His Fair Lady (23 page)

Ana gasped, falling back a pace from the
window. She continued to look out for a moment, assuring Sir Royce
had sustained no injury. Satisfied, she then gazed out over
Wallingford and all she could see from her vantage. ‘Twas a grand
place, but so foreign to her in every way.

Of a sudden, the events of last night
flooded back in all their splendor and horror. Ana bowed her head,
sighing as she remembered how she’d beat upon Sir Royce’s chest in
her frenzy to escape the hall.

“Is aught the matter, child?” Lord Gilbert
called, worry creasing his voice.

Ana withdrew from the window and slowly
returned to the chair beside his bed. “Last night, toward the end
of the feasting, a great pie was brought into the hall. It
contained live birds.”

“I can guess the rest,” Lord Gilbert
grunted, sounding none too pleased.

“‘
Twas horrible. I fled the hall and
disgraced myself in the eyes of the others, but I could not bear to
stay.”

“Poor child. I wish I could have foreseen
that and spared you. I should have, I suppose. Our king is an avid
hunter, and I’d not be surprised if the queen arranged the
spectacle for his delight.”

“Everyone seemed to enjoy it, the lords and
ladies alike.” She pulled at her hands, a nervous gesture.

“Not everyone I’m sure, and today the court
ladies will be complaining over their ruined gowns. The laundresses
will never be able to remove the stains.”

“I know,” Ana uttered, saddened to think of
her own gown, having no hope it could be restored.

“Let us speak of happier things, shall
we?” Lord Gilbert cheered, patting her hand. “I’ve engaged a
personal maid for you, Luvena is her name. She is — or,
rather,
was
— Lady Edwina
Hornstead’s maid, who assures the woman is of excellent character
and talent.”

“Am I to understand Lady Edwina discharged
the maid from her own service to attend me?” Ana asked
perplexed.

“Lady Edwina confided only that she desired
a maid with more height.” He huffed a laugh. “‘Tis curious is it
not, but I did not quibble. ‘Tis difficult to find a maid with
Luvena’s recommendations. Her Majesty vouched for the woman as
well. I employed the maid unseen, I fear, but if you find objection
to her, you are to tell me at once and we will find another more
suited.”

“My lord, you are all kindness, but as I’ve
never required a maid before, I cannot see how I shall need one
now.”

“I believe you will find that you will and
very quickly. Besides, ‘twill be good for you to have such a
companion to depend upon. Castle life, at times, can be very
impersonal.”

Ana could offer no argument there.

Lord Gilbert shifted against his pillows.
“Now, I’ve engaged several tutors to instruct you in a number of
areas. You will be overseeing Penhurst, and likely other estates in
your lifetime. ‘Twould be wise to know the basics of reading and
ciphering, so no one may mislead you in important matters.”

He continued on before Ana could voice a
single word. “You will also need training in the running of a
castle and its servants, and be given the refinements expected of a
noble lady — music, painting, needlework, of course. Your diction
could use a little polishing, if you will forgive me for saying so.
Do you think archery would interest you? Many ladies enjoy it as a
pastime.”

Ana wished to object but found herself
laughing instead, overwhelmed by the lord’s generosity. He
certainly held her interests at heart. On the other hand, the
matter of her identity had yet to be resolved. She couldn’t let
Lord Gilbert deceive himself by continuing to think she was his
granddaughter. But how could she broach the subject without
breaking his heart? Sir Royce had been right in that.

Ana was still mulling her thoughts when a
knock sounded at the door. When Godric opened it, a dark-haired
page stepped through the portal and bowed from the waist. He
appeared to be all of eight.

“Queen Isabella requests Lady Juliana to
join her in the garden. I am to escort her there,” he said
importantly, his little chest puffed out.

Lord Gilbert gave Ana a nod and smiled. “Go
along, my dear. Mustn’t keep the queen waiting.”

Ana reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’ll
return later, I promise.”

“Better still, I’m feeling much invigorated
since your return, Juliana. I believe I can abide being carried
down to the hall for dinner. We shall dine together this night,” he
proclaimed happily. “I shall join you there.”

“I look forward to it, my lord.” Ana gave a
bow of her head then followed the page from the chamber.

»«

Lord Gilbert drummed his fingers on the bed.
“Godric, go to the window to see if you can determine what
interested my granddaughter so.”

Following his bidding, the servant traversed
the chamber and gazed out on the ward below.

“I would guess the knights working out on
the lists might have drawn her interest,” Godric observed.

‘Twould be natural, I suppose.” Lord Gilbert
pulled at his chin. “She’s a healthy young woman, after all. Is
there anyone there you recognize?”

Godric turned back to the window, staring
intently outside. “There is the knight who arrived with Lady
Juliana, Sir Royce de Warrene. He has just finished with one of the
squires and is gathering up his tunic to leave the lists. It
appears he bears some injury.”

Lord Gilbert’s eyebrows rose at that. “You
can see his bruises from this distance?”

“Nay, my lord, not bruises. Sir Royce’s
forearm is bound from wrist to elbow as though wounded there.”

Lord Gilbert pondered that, thinking too of
the cut over the knight’s brow and what must have been a much more
extensive bruise over his face.

‘Twould seem Sir Royce and Juliana’s journey
from Chinon was more perilous than they gave me to know.”

»«

Royce toweled off his chest as he quit the
lists then pulled on his tunic. As he passed through the gate into
the inner ward he spied Juliana following one of the pages across
the courtyard. They headed in the direction of the gardens behind
the keep. ‘Twould seem the queen had not forgotten the maid, he
thought with some pleasure.

He’d taken no more than three strides when a
young man with a cap of curly blond hair darted across the
courtyard in ardent pursuit of Juliana. Skidding to a halt in front
of her, he dropped on one knee and offered her a small cluster of
pink campion.

God’s teeth, don’t take
it.
Royce ground his mental teeth as he
watched.
The pup will think you accept his
suit, and thus himself. Don’t touch it.

Oblivious to his thoughts, Juliana smiled
her angelic smile and, taking the flowers, lifted them to her nose.
The swain looked stunned at first, then overjoyed. Kissing the hem
of her gown, he leaped to his feet and skipped away in a fit of
ecstasy.

Royce simmered. Glancing back to the maid he
found her blinking after the fool, as if wondering what all the
fuss was about. Then she turned, calmly no less, and continued on,
trailing the page escorting her until both were out of sight.

Royce ground his teeth, his real teeth this
time. He would need to have a talk with the maid — a very long talk
— and inform her of the subtler customs and mannerisms of court
life. As for the pasty-faced stripling who danced across the yard,
Royce had a mind to escort him to the lists and take some of the
curl out of that mop of his. He looked like the bookish type who
could benefit from a little “knightly” instruction.

Lucklessly, he could not spare the time. He
was due to speak with the king’s counselor. Despite the king’s
words last night, Royce had been put off this morn and told to
return in three hours’ time. Even once he settled his affairs, he
had no time to search out the lad. There was another matter of
import he must see to, one concerning Juliana.

»«

Ana followed the page’s lead through an iron
gate and into a walled garden attached to the great keep. She
recognized it at once as the same garden that was visible from her
chamber window.

Fruit trees lined the inner perimeter, their
leaves turned to gold and their bounty gone, excepting a few crab
apples that lingered. Thrushes rummaged for berries in the low
hedge that lined the path, pausing at times to drive away a pair of
redwings who sought to thieve the treasures.

Arriving at the center of the garden, Ana
came upon the queen and her noble companions seated before a large,
ornate fountain. The women gathered around a tapestry, stretched on
an oaken frame, plying their needles as they spoke of some matter
amongst themselves. Nearby, a female harpist played a soft melody,
her long fingers caressing the strings as if a lover.

Ana dropped into a deep curtsy before the
queen, one she’d practiced after observing the ladies in the hall
last night. ‘Twas still imperfect, she new, but at least she
managed it without falling on her backside.

Queen Isabella paused in her stitching and
turned. “Welcome Lady Juliana. Rise and join us.” She looked to her
companions. “I’m sure you all recall our dear Juliana from her
presentation at the feast last night.”

The three nodded in unison. Ana could only
wonder if they remembered her from the scene she made in the hall,
beating upon Sir Royce’s chest.

“This is Lady Blythe, Lady Arietta, and Lady
Mertise,” the queen introduced the others.

Lady Blythe, a round and dimpled woman,
smiled with small bright eyes and scooted to one side. “There is
room on the bench beside me, Lady Juliana. You can help me work the
birds and vines.”

No sooner did Ana seat herself than Lady
Blythe handed her a needle and a measured strand of brownish-red
wool. Ana placed the bouquet of campion on her lap and, with some
effort, forced the bulky thread through the eye of the needle.

Ill-at-ease, Ana moistened her lips. She
knew how to sew a straight line, of course, but as she surveyed the
tapestry she realized these ladies were embroidering with a great
variety of intricate stitches and with far more skill than she
possessed. Drawing a breath, Ana applied her needle to the canvas,
hoping she would not ruin the piece.

“We were just discussing Andre the
Chaplain’s
Treatise on Love
,”
the queen informed Ana, picking up the conversation. “He writes
that marriage should be no barrier to love. What do you think, Lady
Juliana?”

Ana blenched to be asked her opinion by the
queen and to voice it before these noble ladies.

“I-I agree, totally,” she forced the words
past her lips. To her relief, the other ladies smiled unanimously.
Emboldened, Ana pressed on.

“There is no reason not to love. My foster
parents, for example, share a great love between them. There should
ever be love between a husband and a wife. ‘Tis the greatest
happiness of all.”

The women remained silent, Lady Mertise
raising her brow.

“I believe Lady Juliana
misunderstands,” Lady Arietta submitted to the others, then turned
to Ana. “The
Treatise
states,
‘Marriage is no real excuse for not loving.’ Chaplain Andre does
not refer to love between a married couple, but states that
marriage is no impediment for a husband or wife to find love with
another.”

“Outside the bounds of marriage?” Ana’s jaw
dropped open.

Queen Isabella caught the gazes of the other
three and smiled gently. “Lady Juliana rightly leads us to the very
proper topic of whether love can exist between a husband and wife.
What say you of that, ladies?”

The three exchanged glances, avoided Ana’s
gaze, and looked back to the queen.

“Well, yes,” Lady Mertise began.
“The
Treatise
does say the
only ones unable to know true love — as it ideally exists between a
man and a woman — are the very young, those too old, the blind, and
those possessing an excess of passion.”

Ana looked at the woman, dumfounded. “I
understand the first, but none of the rest.”

“The old are incapable because they lose
their ‘natural heat,’“ Lady Blythe offered.

“And the blind cannot see the lover’s beauty
on which their mind can then reflect,” Lady Arietta said quickly,
then added, “So Andre the Chaplain writes.”

“And one who has an excess of passion is its
slave and therefore ‘cannot be held in the bonds of love,’“ Lady
Mertise quoted. “They are ruled only by their lowest nature and
thus cannot appreciate the ‘mysteries of love’s realm.’“

Horse apples, Ana thought. Is there any love
more deep or beautiful than that yet shared by two aging people
after many long years, or than among those who saw with their hands
and minds and hearts in a way far more profound than with their
eyes? As to the last point, she agreed with the chaplain. Lust was
not love.

“But even if love can exist between a
husband and wife, it has naught to do with the contracting of a
marriage,” Lady Arietta observed. “Naturally, one hopes affection
will grow in time. True love does in rare cases — very rare.”

An impulse suddenly possessed Ana to give
her head a sound shake and clear it of these women’s misbegotten
notions. ‘Twould do little good, she knew. Ana decided to attempt a
different approach.

“But what of marrying for love’s sake?”

“For love’s sake?” Lady Mertise appeared
genuinely shocked by the suggestion. “Oh, no, no, dispel the
thought, Lady Juliana. ‘Twould be risky and naive to make a choice
based upon feelings alone.”

“True,” Lady Arietta interjected. “Love
would not survive, if the choice was poorly made, particularly if
done so in the heat of fickle passion.”