Joust of Hearts (12 page)

“So now we go. Cheer up, young lady, for we have a grand day ahead of us.” Helena nodded with mock seriousness.

By Helena’s making the situation seem not so tedious, a diminutive smile parted Melisande’s lips. Helena had been nothing but kind to her, with the exception of withholding Devin’s title from her. She supposed Helena hadn’t meant to hurt her. Melisande heaved a sigh, deciding that she couldn’t be angry with Helena.

She nodded. “Very well, Helena.”

Helena left the room, calling to Melisande’s maids to finish dressing their mistress.

Maggie and Tilly selected a rich burgundy velvet robe to go over her rose-colored tunic. The matching veils were long and sheer with large, faceted amethyst stones dotting the headband.

The ladies boarded the wagon straightaway and took cheese, bread and fruit to eat along the way.

“I’m delighted you’ve attended me. I’ve not journeyed to London since last spring,” Helena commented lightheartedly in between delicate nibbles of her cheese.

Melisande’s only remarks were on the weather and the fare before them. She did her best to avert her thoughts of Devin’s safety.
Why, he does not even deserve a single sentence of the Lord’s Prayer said on his behalf because of how he deceived me.
And she dismissed the vision of his twinkling green eyes and devastating smile from her mind.

When the meal was finished, the constant motion and noise from the wheels lulled Melisande to sleep.

What seemed to her like moments later, the driver cleared his throat loudly so as to gain their attention. “M’lady, we shall be arriving at the first stop on your tour shortly.”

“Thank you, Ian,” Helena said as the two ladies did their best to smooth out their surcoats.

A fabric shop, which specialized in imports, was only the first of many shops down the long main thoroughfare. The streets were filthy to say the least and Melisande wondered at the thought of living so close to countless people. True, a good many inhabitants lived in and around Dupree. However, one could still find a place to be alone if one truly desired. Liam had told her of London a few times, but of these things, including the waste that was tossed into the streets and the odors that the debris emitted, she’d had no idea.

Helena purchased what seemed like yards of expensive embroidered fabrics, soft shiny materials and bolts of wool from France in a variety of colors. Farther down the thoroughfare she was measured by a dressmaker and ordered three gowns to be made for her.

“My maid Mabel’s eyes are failing her of late,” she confided in Melisande in hushed tones. “She only does light mending for me now.”

Melisande had to admit, it was very kind of Helena to treat her servant so gently.

To the back of the dressmaker’s storeroom, Melisande saw a deep cream-colored gown with gold wire embroidery throughout the garment that made it glow like the stars on a warm summer’s night. When the pattern that had been sewn onto the fabric caught the light from the flickering candles of the otherwise dark little shop, it caused the dress to wink at her. It had a low neckline that was bordered by the same gold thread and sleeves long and wide with white short fur around the cuffs. Its arched bodice was so heavily decorated with gold beads and pearls that it would have been fit for a queen. The headpiece that hung on a peg protruding from the wall nearby had a thin band of the same white fur of the cuffs and a short length of fine gold chain mail that hung down the back that was long enough to reach the nape of one’s neck.

“Helena, have you ever seen such beautiful craftsmanship?” Melisande asked as she stroked the fabric.

Helena gained the attention of the head seamstress. “What of that gown in the corner?”

“’Tis been here nigh over a fortnight now. The
lady
who ordered the thing be made decided against it,” the woman said with no small amount of spite. To say that she was unhappy with the person who had not picked up or paid for the expensive garment would have been a grand misstatement.

Helena nodded to the woman and whispered to Melisande, “’Twould be a most comely gown worn by you. But do not let on that you are interested. The shopkeeper might overhear and come up with an outrageous price.”

“On what occasion would I wear it, were I to acquire it?” Melisande asked, turning from the beautiful gown to face Helena.

“My dear, when one shops, one also makes purchases for future events, whether known to one or not,” Helena stated with an air of mystery in her voice.

“Besides, I fear I did not bring a purse of coins or other means to make purchases,” Melisande confessed.

“Permit me to make this purchase for you and mayhaps at a later date—”

“But you and Lord Bergavny have done so much for me these past three days, I could not ask you to—”

“You did not ask, Melisande, I offered and insist that you agree,” Helena whispered, her tone motherly.

Melisande looked back at the artistry of the dress and sighed. “It is lovely, is it not?”

“’Tis settled then.” Helena turned toward the shopkeeper to haggle over a price while Melisande caressed the stiff threads of the design with her fingers.

“Sold.” Helena dismissed the woman, turned back to Melisande and smiled. “I had expected to pay twice what she originally offered,” Helena whispered. “I brought the price down by another third. I should have been a merchant.” She chuckled.

When the woman returned, Helena called Melisande over. “Have Lady Dupree measured and the gold dress altered to her specifications. If the project can be finished quickly, there will be a few extra coins for you.”

“Aye, my lady.” The gray-haired woman bobbed a curtsy to Helena, then shoved aside a curtain. “There’s work to be done here. Quit your gossiping of the King’s Garter and get to thy needles,” she called out to the young girls under her employ.

Melisande was somewhat excited about the new gown, but her actions still lacked fervor owing to the brief visions of Devin that she had to continually dismiss from her mind.

Helena and Melisande left the women to their work. Halfway through the portal of the next shop, Ian hailed them. “Pray forgive me, m’lady,” he said, trying to catch his breath from the run across the thoroughfare. “I just come from speaking with a messenger of the King’s who came upon your conveyance with m’self aboard. It seems that Lord Bergavny has told our good king that you and your talented young guest are about town this day. The King requests yours and the Lady Dupree’s presence for supper tonight at his Royal Majesty’s high table.”

“Thank you, Ian. That is the best news we have heard all day. Is that not right, Melisande?” Lady Helena sounded elated.

“Grand,” Melisande said rather flatly, though she didn’t mean to show her displeasure. Her preference remained to be at Dupree, alone with her thoughts.

“Ian.” Helena tossed her driver a coin. “Go pay a visit to that pub across the way and meet us after you have quenched your thirst.”

The man grinned and tipped his hat, which bore the colors of Willowbrook. “Oh, gramercy, Lady Bergavny. An’ God save yer ladyship,” he said with a tip of his cap and a sincere smile.

In each shop the two ladies visited, Lady Helena had to let everyone know about Melisande’s personal invitation from King Henry. The shopkeepers were so impressed that they practically gave away remnants of sheer chiffon cloths, satin ribbons and shiny trimmings to Melisande and Helena, hoping that they would wear their items before His Majesty.

Later, Ian loaded the last of the ladies’ packages onto the wagon, which he had picked up from along the route.

“I’ll be toppled over if the horses make it all the way to Windsor Castle, let alone to Willowbrook,” Ian half jested.

“Which reminds me, Ian, you will need to make two more trips to the tailor’s shop. One on the morrow for a purchase made for Melisande and one in two days hence for my goods.”

Ian stole a sideways glance at Lady Helena and asked, “Pray tell, m’lady, does Lord Bergavny know of yer purchases?”

“Not as of yet, Ian. I do, though, hope he is sitting when he finds out!”

As she listened to their tinkling laughter, it occurred to her how kind Lord and Lady Bergavny were, even to their serfs. In such grand yet humble company, Melisande at once became eager to arrive at Windsor, and to experience court for the first time.

They drove along the Thames for quite a while. Lady Helena allowed Melisande the window with the view of the river, having seen it many times herself. When they finally reached the gates of Windsor, Melisande wished she could ride up top with Ian.

They alighted from the wagon and Melisande was in awe. Windsor Castle was massive in comparison to Dupree or even Willowbrook. The palace guards stood like statues, not looking one way or the other. Helena and Melisande marveled at the grand structure from the center of the courtyard.

Melisande was to be presented to King Henry just before supper, so she and Helena refreshed themselves in Lord Bergavny’s guest chambers.

As the ladies were conversing about the grounds, the décor of the room and the King himself, Melisande felt the excitement mounting and only thought of Devin once, when she wished that he would be by her side when she met King Henry. She pictured him escorting her down a long stretch of polished marble to where the King sat on a bejeweled chair. In her vision, Melisande looked up at Devin only to find him in his full suit of armor, holding a bloody sword.

Melisande walked over to the gleaming brass washbasin and splashed the clear, cool water onto her face as if to rinse away the daydream. She resigned herself to the fact that Devin was a long way from London, and had not been invited to come. Even if he were to suddenly arrive, she reminded herself, she would have nothing to do with the knight.

Chapter Eleven

Melisande’s newly gained elation reached a fevered peak moments before she and Helena were announced as she saw Lord Bergavny at King Henry’s right, their heads together in conversation. As she and Helena approached the dais, the King and Lord Bergavny stood. He must have held the Bergavnys in high regard for His Majesty to have done so.

“Your Majesty, may I once again present my wife, the Lady Helena Bergavny.”

“Your Most Royal Majesty.” Helena bowed her head and executed a flawless curtsy that nearly left her prostrate on the ground.

“Pray recover, Lady Helena. It seems like only yesterday when you and Lord Bergavny were at the festival of All Souls we held here at Windsor,” the King said, reaching for her hand.

“A wonderful time was had by both Lord Bergavny and myself at the festival, Your Majesty,” Helena replied sweetly as her fingers slipped into his palm.

“And may we say you look lovely as usual,” he said in earnest.

“I thank you, Your Highness, for the generosity of your compliment. Now may I present to you the Lady Melisande Dupree, a most talented young woman and a dear friend.” Helena stepped aside and indicated Melisande.

Melisande emulated the curtsy Helena had moments ago offered the King. “I am honored to make your acquaintance, Your Most Royal Majesty.”

“Recover and come here, my child.”

Melisande stepped forward and stood within arm’s reach of him. She felt an odd surge of pride to be so close to the King and kept her gaze reverently diverted from his.

“Lord Bergavny has told us that you are widow to Sir Liam Dupree. He was one of the finest knights we’ve ever had the honor of fighting by our side.” The King paused. “Forgive us, Lady Dupree, for that was a long time ago. How have
you
been faring?”

Melisande knew King Henry was a peace-loving man. She admired the fact that he’d taken a bride of his family’s enemy in order to end the civil wars that had been continuous for over thirty years. “I have been very well, Your Highness. The Lord and Lady Bergavny have helped me through my grief a tremendous amount of late.”

“Good, good,” the King replied genuinely. “Now, my dear, we are very much in the mood for a fresh musician to play for the court this eve following our repast. We oft grow tired of the selections that make up the litany of our royal musicians.” He chuckled. “Mayhaps you will teach them some recent pieces to play for us.”

“I will do so to the best of my abilities. I am your humble servant.” Melisande curtsied again.

“Excellent. Now, let us sup together at our table.”

Elizabeth Stuart of York, now Queen Elizabeth Tudor since her marriage to the King, joined them at the high table. Melisande was then presented to her and found her most gracious.

Along with the Queen was a relative of hers by the name of Corin Sinclair.

Upon her introduction to Corin, he took Melisande by the hand and brushed his lips just below her knuckles, at the juncture where her fingers met. “M’lady, if you are half as talented as you are beautiful, we are in for quite a treat.”

Melisande’s cheeks heated and she felt a strange fluttering of her insides at the handsome visage before her. “Gramercy.” She hoped she didn’t sound like the village idiot. She couldn’t think of a single phrase witty enough with which to rejoin him.

Corin was tall and solidly built, one could tell by the cut of his richly embroidered tunic, for he had wide shoulders and a broad chest that tapered to slim hips. The warm color of his eyes resembled a rich, creamy brown that could melt a woman’s heart at twenty paces. He had smooth, glowing skin that would certainly make the most beautiful
femmes à la cour
jealous. His smile revealed straight teeth that were as white as virgin snow. His hair was just a tad darker than Devin’s…
And almost as long,
she mused, finding herself comparing the two men. Nearly in the same instant, she chastised herself.
Melisande, stop dwelling on things that cannot be.
Then again, how could it have been her fault?
’Tis the Black Knave who invades my thoughts, and at the most inopportune moments.
Melisande painfully pushed Devin to the back of her mind and smiled up at Corin Sinclair who, for some reason, still held her hand.

“Your eyes hold such immense expression, my lady,” he commented as he helped her to her seat.