Authors: Catherine Emm
* * *
It had been very difficult for Jewel to pretend that Amery was not lounging comfortably on the bed while she stoked the fire or that he was not watching as she appeared to casually remove her clothes and step into the tub—almost as difficult as it had been pretending that he had not been anywhere around for the past two days. But it had been something she had had to do. She had reasoned that by being away from him for hours at a time, her sudden disappearance this eve would go unnoticed by him until it was too late and she and Hadwin would be given enough of a start to be far away before he came looking for her. What she had not counted on was how her treatment of Amery would affect her. With the exception of last night when he had come stumbling into their chambers with the intention of speaking to her about something that was on his mind— something that concerned her—he had otherwise ignored her. He had never come to the kitchen looking for her. He had not attempted to sit next to her during a meal, and while everyone else had laughed and joked, he had silently gotten up from the table and left the hall. Had it been Hadwin who acted in that manner, she would have thought him jealous. But Hadwin was far different from Amery, and perhaps her claim that Amery could not so easily put her from his mind had been an exaggeration.
"Lady Jewel," Aselma said, bringing Jewel out of her rueful musings, "wouldst thou like for me to braid your hair?"
Jewel nodded as she stepped into the fox-trimmed, dark green velvet gunna that she had selected to wear, thinking that this would be the last time she ever wore something Amery had given her. Earlier this afternoon, she had taken her old clothes to the kitchen hidden in a basket of laundry, then smuggled then to the stable where she would change before leaving with Hadwin. When she left Burchard, she would be going without a single thing Amery could claim as his, and in the morning she would be free of him and could then set her mind on matters more important rather than have it clouded with thoughts of a man who cared so little for her.
Her toilette completed. Jewel thanked Aselma for her help and stood, immensely aware of the other who shared the chamber and the fact that Amery had yet to look at her. Dismissing the maid, Jewel waited until Aselma had closed the door behind her before turning to Amery.
"Wilt thou be coming down, Amery?" she asked, oddly hoping he would tell her nay. If he had truly grown tired of her, she could endure the knowledge better if he did not show her by flirting with another while she stood close enough to see. The ache in her heart deepened when he yawned and would not grace her with his full attention but continued to stare at the cloth canopy above him.
"Yea," he sighed as though bored. "I have not eaten and 'twould be rude of me not to when, I am a guest in Gunther's home!"
"Shall I wait?"
He shook his head. "Nay. I will join the feast later."
Jewel swallowed the lump in her throat. Why had he not said he would join her later? Did it mean he would not spend his time with her? Tis best he didn't anyway, she reasoned silently. She would find it difficult to slip away if he were constantly at her side. "Very well, sir," she murmured, turning for the door, her head down and her gaze focused on the steps she took. She missed the devilish smile he gave her and when she paused to lift the latch and glance back at him one more time, he had already rolled onto his side and closed his eyes as if he were planning to nap awhile longer.
Amery forced himself not to move until after he had heard her close the door, and then he bolted from the bed with more enthusiasm for what he was about to do than he had ever felt going into battle. And in a way this was a battle—a battle of wits, a man against a woman. He knew who would be victorious, for he had yet to lose a fight.
He dressed in record time, choosing a soft-brown shade for his attire that would not attract too much attention upon first glance but was rich enough to hold it once seen. Then he moved to stand near the door where he could listen to the sounds in the great hall. He must not seem too anxious, but then again not allow too much time to pass before joining the festivities.
Let her miss my presence for awhile, he mused, grinning wickedly. Let her explain my absence, then turn and watch me descend the stairs, wondering why my eyes never search the crowd for her. Yea, let her wonder then discover for herself why I appear not to care. She will learn her lesson and I shall be the teacher.
* * *
"You are the most beautiful woman here, Jewel," Hadwin said with a smile, handing her a chalice of wine. "Green is your color."
"Thank you, sir." Jewel nodded, blushing at his gentle compliment as she took the cup.
They were silent for a moment while they watched the activity going on around them. Being a kind and generous lord, Gunther had summoned all of the people at Burchard to attend the feast and the great hall was crowded as Jewel had never seen it before. In a time when England's king was held prisoner by his enemies and the country's fate was uncertain, its people put their faith in God and joyously celebrated the birth of Christ. The tables were full of meats and cheeses, breads, jams, and boiled eggs. Wine was plentiful and the gentle tones of the rate filled the air. Everyone laughed and shared in the fellowship of this glorious eve, and remained unaware of the sadness that filled Jewel's heart.
"Where is Amery?" Hadwin asked, the chalice raised to his lips and his voice held to a whisper.
"In his chambers," Jewel told him, careful that no one other than Hadwin heard her reply.
"Is he ill?"
"Nay, he lounges as though nothing concerns him," she answered, taking a square of cheese a serving maid offered from her tray of assortments. "He will be down later."
"Until he arrives, may I share thy company?" Hadwin tilted his head slightly to get a better view of her lovely face. "You seem sad."
Jewel laughed lightly. " Tis sorrow I feel, Sir Hadwin, nothing more. 'Tis the first Yuletide I must celebrate without my family at my side." She graced him with a soft smile. "But thy presence and kindness will see me through it."
"Yea, I too feel the pain of loneliness, Jewel. 'Tis my first time as well. My father died in the Crusade two winters past, and my mother's grief over her loss was too much to bear. My brothers, knights as I, are scattered over England and the only family left to me are my cousins, Rickward and Stafford. They are good and kind to me, and I respect Sir Gunther as my own father, but they cannot ease the sense of loss I feel."
A worried frown wrinkled Jewel's brow. "And next Yuletide you will not have your cousins by your side—or Sir Gunther. Perhaps you—"
"Nay, Lady Jewel, do not say it, for I know what you intend. I will not and do not regret my decision. My loyalty now lies with you and I would gladly sacrifice all I possess in exchange. I will even lay down my life for you, Jewel." His blue eyes glowed with unmistakable affection for her, and tears welled in hers.
"Cod has blessed me to find someone like you, Hadwin," she confessed, touching his hand. "I shall bend my knee in prayer to thank Him."
Hadwin started to speak when Gunther's jovial shout rose above the noise in the great hall and all attention fell on the tall, handsome knight at the top of the stairs. Amery had decided to honor Burchard with his presence, and though few noticed where his gaze rested, young Hadwin instantly felt the silent warning Amery's emerald eyes gave him and he quickly lowered his own.
"He makes his claim on you, Jewel," Hadwin whispered before taking a sip of wine.
Jewel, too, had seen the way Amery had glared at Hadwin, and although the satisfied smile never reached her lips, it shone brightly in her eyes. She had begun to think he truly did not care about her. Now she knew otherwise.
"He has no right, Hadwin," she replied, turning her back to Amery. "We decided shortly after he returned to England. But we must not anger him this eve, for his wrath could spoil our plans. Have you readied the steeds?"
"Yea," Hadwin replied, casually looking off across the hall as if they chatted about the snowfall.
"And food?"
"Enough to see us to Harcourt."
"Then we must not remain together anymore this night. Amery will watch us too-closely if we do. I will meet you by the gate when it is safe."
"I will be there," he assured her. "And I must warn you not to worry about my actions in the hour to come, for I plan to fool everyone into thinking I drank more than my share of. wine. It will allow me to leave the hall without anyone's curiosity being aroused." Lifting the chalice to his lips, he spoke into it. "Clothe thyself warmly, Jewel. The ride will be long and cold." Without waiting for her reply, he leisurely walked away.
Amery watched the young man stroll toward his cousins and only then realized how his feelings had betrayed him. The instant he had seen Jewel and how she had fondly laid her hand on Had win's, he had felt oddly, cheated, believing he should have been the one receiving her attention, not some young fool. But then, he had decided, that was what she wanted him to feel. Relaxing with the knowledge that it was only a ploy, he smiled lopsidedly and descended the stairs to meet Gunther and take the cup of wine he offered.
"She is beautiful this eve," Gunther said with a sigh as he turned to study Jewel. "More than when we first saw her."
Amery knew who he meant, but he was not going to let on that he had ever seen Jewel, much less agree with his friend. "Who?" he casually asked as he pretended to scour the room for the one Gunther appraised.
"The hag in the corner," Gunther mocked testily. "Why Jewel, of course. I saw where your attention flew the moment you paused."
Amery shrugged his wide shoulders. "Oh, I suppose. But there have been others to rival her."
"Perhaps in the color of her hair, her eyes, or the delicate features of her face, but none rival the beauty in her heart. She is a treasure and you're the fool not to see it," Gunther barked.
Amery took a long drink of wine, then slowly walked toward the fireplace and away from where Jewel stood talking to Lady Anne. "If I wanted the chains of wedlock wrapped around my neck, I would look for such qualities. But I do not, so they mean nothing to me."
"And you will spend your graying years alone if you do not change your ways, for no other will feel for you the way! Jewel—" Gunther froze in midsentence. He had not meant to reveal his suspicions about Jewel. He swallowed, frowned, and raised the chalice. "Might," he wisely corrected, then took a drink.
"Might, you say?" Amery repeated, taking a piece of meat from the table he passed by, then slowly lowering his huge frame into one of the chairs by the hearth. He waited until Gunther sat next to him, and added, "Do you think it would matter to me if she did?"
"Yea," Gunther quickly returned. "Worry that she finds another more appealing than you has blackened your moods, and I can name no other cause. Were she any other wench, you would have turned from her by now—cast her aside for one who swoons at your feet, begs your attention, and vows undying devotion. Jewel does none of that and it disturbs you. Not because she is defiant, but because you care."
Green eyes settled on Gunther. "Do I?" he challenged.
"If not," Gunther countered, "then explain the envious look you cast young Hadwin for merely talking with her."
Amery leisurely bit off a piece of the meat and slowly chewed it as he lounged comfortably in the chair and watched the feminine curves of a nearby serving maid. " 'Twas not envy you saw, friend, but a warning that Jewel is mine until I say otherwise, and he must tread lightly or pay the consequences. If Jewel wishes to allow the knight to court her, 'tis her decision, but only when I no longer desire her."
"Ah, then you admit she sparks your interest," Gunther triumphantly pointed out, a bright smile gleaming in his blue eyes. Turning his gaze upon Gunther, Amery nodded. "For now." His hopes dashed, for Gunther could not see more in his companion's words than what Amery stated, Gunther's anger rose. "You are, indeed, the callous knight, Amery of Wellington, and I pledge thee are not worthy of the love of fair Lady Jewel." He came abruptly to his feet and stalked away, Missing the surprised look on Amery's face.
Worthy of her love? What did he mean? Twice he had spoken of Jewel's feelings as though he did not have to guess but knew the truth. Amery's eyes shifted to the one who plagued his every hour to find her laughing at something Rickward had said. And when her attention fell his way, she quickly set it elsewhere. Gunther was wrong. He was sure of it. And even if he weren't, what would such knowledge award him? After all, he did not wish to have the bonds of love wrapped around him, restricting him. He had more important things with which to deal—such as clearing his name and regaining his lands. Nay, Jewel did not care for him. She would have been at his side right now if she did. He raised the chalice and stared into it. And why would she? What had he done to earn even her respect? Lowering the cup, he closed his eyes and rested his head back against the chair. But more than anything, why did it matter?
* * *
Just as Hadwin had said, less than an hour passed before he began showing signs of having overindulged in his share of wine, and while the others who observed laughed and teased the young knight, Jewel fought not to show her uneasiness. They had not talked to each other since Amery had joined the festivities, but even so, she worried be suspected what they planned and would stop them, or worse yet, punish Hadwin. Frowning,' she moved away from the group of boisterous knights and went to where Anne sat holding Ella on her lap.
"I cannot remember when Hadwin has allowed himself too much wine." Anne laughed, watching the young man awkwardly clear a spot on one of the tables where he and Stafford could test each other in a match of arm wrestling, "But it's good to see. He has never been a very happy boy."
"Yuletide has a way of curing one's troubles," Jewel replied, hoisting the blond-haired girl to her hip when Ella held out her arms to her. "I hope he will not regret his actions on the morrow."
"Oh, be sure he will," Anne remarked with a chuckle, missing Jewel's perplexed frown. Had she not, she surely would have suspected Jewel's true meaning. "'Twill be most difficult for him to face the dawn when the fiercest of thunderstorms rattles around in his head each time he moves or draws a single breath. I hope the good friar will forgive him if he does not attend the Mass."
Hugging little Mia to her when the child laid her small head on her shoulder, Jewel murmured, "Yea ... when he does not—"
"You have not met Brother Howard, have you, Jewel?" Anne continued, her eyes still trained on the antics of the men. "He is very outspoken and many times tests his limit on a good draught of wine from our cellar. Methinks he chose the wrong way of life and envies his friends their knighthood, for when they speak of battles fought, Brother Howard listens more intently than any child." Laughing, she looked at Jewel. "You'll like him, as we all do. He comes to Burchard once a month to say Mass and we expect him this eve." She frowned thoughtfully and looked toward the heavy door leading into the great hall. "It surprises me that he has not come by now. Perhaps the snow has slowed his journey."
"Perhaps," Jewel agreed and turned to watch the men as a roar went up.
Hadwin, in his seemingly drunken state, had lost the contest with Stafford and in the process had also lost his balance and tumbled to the floor. Deciding the young man had had enough celebration, Rickward grabbed his cousin's arm, jerked him to his feet, and tossed him over his shoulder, vowing to see Hadwin put abed, then return to challenge Stafford. Jewel watched them cross the room, her nerves tingling and sending a shiver through her, for she knew their plan had begun to unfold. Without realizing it, she kissed Ella's cheek. She would miss the little girl and doubted she would ever see her again after tonight. Then Jewel sensed someone watched her and when she turned her head to find the source, her breath caught in her throat, for there by the huge hearth stood Amery, his elbow propped against a protruding stone in the face of the fireplace, his chalice dangling in one hand, and his other arm draped around the neck of a very pretty, very young, serving girl. Had his gaze not rested on Jewel, she would have thought he had not noticed her at all. The ache in her heart made her wish he had not. She dropped her eyes away from him as she looked for a place to sit down with Ella.