Bella at Midnight (25 page)

Now what think you, Father? Was that not a good story?

M
other came to get us at the forge. Father was repairing a broken scythe, and I was working the bellows. We both thought it strange to see her there. She had tasks of her own to attend to and would not normally interrupt us at ours. I wondered if something might have happened to Margaret.

“Martin!” she said, breathing hard. I think she had run all the way. “A page has come, in royal livery. He brought a message from Prince Julian!”

“Is that so?” Father said, pulling the scythe out of the fire, though he had just that minute put it in and it was not nearly hot enough yet to work upon the anvil.

“Yes! He says Julian is on his way here and will arrive soon—and he bid me fetch you home, and Will, too, for he wishes to speak to all of us together!”

Father put down the scythe and took off his leather apron, and I did the same. I could tell he thought the matter as curious as I did. Julian's visits had ever been private and without any pomp or ceremony. Though we were glad to see him again after so many years, the manner of his summons had made us wary. Perhaps he had some grave matter to announce. Had the king died? Had war broken out again?

As we neared the cottage, I saw that Margaret was waiting in the yard, staring up the road at the great cloud of dust in the distance. Julian was traveling with many men and horses, then.

“Has he called the whole village out?” I asked, still trying to make sense of it—though I saw no sign that our neighbors were leaving their work and waiting for the prince to address them.

“No,” Margaret said. “The boy called us by name—he said for Mother to ‘go and fetch Martin and Will.' And then he rode back up the road.” I knitted my brows. Margaret shrugged. We waited.

As they drew closer, we saw that Julian had indeed brought many knights with him, and they were all dressed in full armor, their attendants carrying banners. They were very splendid indeed. I wondered if perhaps he was planning a tournament. But if so, what had that to do with us?

Soon they were near enough that I could tell which one was Julian—for he did not have his helmet on—and I broke into a broad grin. He had ever been such a small boy, and slight. How he had mourned over it, too, saying he wished he could be a big oaf like me! And now here he was, all grown up, taller by two handbreadths at least, with broad shoulders and a nice little beard—the very picture of a manly prince!

I did not know if I ought to wave or call to him, with those other knights about, and so I just stood there and smiled.

Julian reined in his horse and dismounted. While the knights watched, he came forward and embraced us, one by one—saying our names and beaming with joy. It was all so very
odd.
Only Mother kept her composure.

“My dear Julian,” she said, “how we have missed you! Dare we hope you have come back to live again at Castle Down?”

An old nurse has certain privileges, and Mother knew it.

“Only for a time,” he said. “I have important business here, and then I must return to the palace. My brother, the king, has need of me.”

“We have heard somewhat of that,” Father said.

“Then perhaps you have also heard of the Worthy Knight and the miraculous events that averted a war.”

“All the world knows of it,” Father said.

“Would you like to meet him?” How his smile grew then!

“Meet . . . the Worthy Knight?” said Margaret, her eyes wide.

“The very same.” He gestured to one of his companions, who rode forward a little way and nodded in our direction. I saw that his armor was all white, just as we had heard it was, and upon his surcoat was the image of a plumed helmet ringed with fire. He was small for a knight, but he looked very grand indeed.

“Beatrice, Martin, Will, Margaret—I present to you Sir . . . Isabel!”

Then off came the helmet! And such laughter from the other knights at our astonishment! I was never so confused in all my days!

“She
would
come and show off her new armor,” Julian said, laughing, “and could not be persuaded to wait even one more day.”

She had to be helped from her horse. Indeed, she could not even walk unaided.

“Child,” Father said, steadying her with his strong arms, “you are injured! What has happened to you—and why are you dressed so? What does this all mean?”

“But Julian has
told
you, Father—I am a knight!”

“Bella, you are having fun with us!”

“No, Father, not at all! Ask Julian—it was he who knighted me. And isn't it grand?”

“Julian?” Mother said.

The prince nodded and addressed her with great solemnity.

“I think you will like this story,” he said. “Our little Bella here traveled all the way to Brutanna, to warn me of the attack. When I could not stop the battle, and all seemed lost, the Spirit of God came upon this wee daughter of yours, and caused her to ride like a fiery angel through the lines of soldiers. She brought two armies to their knees. Now what think you of that, dear Beatrice? Was it not worthy of a knighting?”

Mother began to weep and nearly crushed poor Bella in her embrace.

“I just
had
to come and tell you right away,” Bella said. “The king has not only granted me a title, but lands and a great estate, as well—and I want you to come and live there, and help me manage it.”

“Bella, you look as if you are about to faint dead away,” I said, for indeed she did look very pale. “Margaret, run and fetch her a stool.”

“It is only the excitement,” Bella said as we helped her sit down, “and the long ride.”

By then most of our neighbors had come out of their houses to see what was afoot. Bella waved and smiled at familiar faces. “It is so good to be back,” she said.

“Do you suppose Lady Margaret could act as squire and help Sir Isabel out of her armor?” Julian said. “And do not give me that look, Bella. Your leg is nowhere near healed, and the wounds in your shoulder were treated for weeks with goat dung and sour milk. It is a miracle you are alive. I have indulged you thus far with this grand entrance; you can indulge
me
by taking off the armor, which weighs more than you do, and then coming back out here for a few moments more—after which I suggest we feed you a good meal and put you to bed.”

“Hear how he orders me about!” Bella said. “And me the greatest lady in the land!”

I lifted her up, then, and carried her into the cottage.

“Blacksmith!” I heard Julian say with a laugh. “I believe he could carry her
horse
in there, too, if it were needed!” Then to us: “Take your time! We shall wait!”

We all worked at unbuckling her armor, so far as modesty allowed. Then Father and I went back outside while the women dressed her in Mother's Sunday gown. How small and thin she looked as they helped her back outside and seated her upon the stool.

“Now,” said Julian, taking a deep breath and looking first at Father, then at Mother. “Bella has made her proposal—and I hope you will accept it. Her estate is very large and will require much attention and sound management. She would be very grateful for your help.

“But she also wishes to thank you in this way for your great kindness to her. And truly, you deserve it. You set her upon the right path and taught her all that is good. It is to your credit that she grew up to be the honorable and courageous lady she is—and so you have done the kingdom a service also, and it is fitting that you should share in her good fortune.”

“Oh, won't you come,
please
?” said Bella. “Auntie Maud will be there—you remember her—and my old grandfather, also, and my stepsister Alice! Oh, Margaret, you will like her so much, and both of you shall have such splendid dowries! And Will, there will be horses and a park to hunt in, and Mother, there will be cooks and chamber maids to wait upon you—”

“Bella,” Father interrupted her then, “we have no need of such things, nor would we know what to do with them.” In the pause that followed, we looked at one another in silent council. Then, having agreed just as silently, Father spoke for us all: “We know naught of managing estates, Bella—great or small—but we know the land right enough. If you want our help, such as it be, then it is yours. And if the duke will give us leave, we will go with you gladly.”

She tried to rise to her feet, then, so as to embrace us, but she lost her balance and almost fell, her arms waving wildly and a foolish look upon her face. I caught her and set her back upon the stool. She might have become the greatest lady in the land, but she was still the same old Bella.

“Good!” said Julian. “Then it is decided, and I am well pleased. Bella, I think you would do best to keep your seat for now, so as not to break anything else.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she said, not so very respectfully.

“Now, there remains only one more question to ask, and then we shall take Sir Isabel up to Castle Down, where she can rest.”

Father nodded, waiting.

“Good Martin,” he said, “I speak to you now as Bella's father—”

“Oh, no, Prince Julian—in truth she is not mine. Perhaps you did not know of it, for you left here before—”

“I know
all
about Sir Edward of Burning Wood and care nothing for him at all. It is
your
daughter of whom I would speak. You always called her your little princess. Would you permit me to make her one in earnest?”

Bella gasped, and I forgot myself and laughed out loud at the wonder of it.

“You will consult with her first, of course,” Julian said. “To see if she is willing.”

Father was ever a shy man and not inclined to show much feeling, but a smile crept upon his lips, and he could scarce control it.

“Daughter,” he said, “what think you of this offer?”

“Might I be married here at the village church, among my friends and the people I love?”

“Yes,” said Julian. “I would have it no other way.”

“Might I wear my armor to the wedding?” she asked.

“No,” said Julian.

“He will not allow the armor,” Father said.

“I would like to wear my glass slippers, then—for they were made for a wedding and are strong enough to dance in. Only I fear I lost them in the forest.”

“Know you aught of these slippers?” Father asked, turning back to Julian.

“It is most fortunate,” said the prince, “that since you are inclined to leave precious things lying about in the woods, you have
me
to come along afterward and find them for you. I have your slippers and you shall dance in them.”

Father turned back to Isabel.

“Tell him,” she said, “that I know not how to dance!”

“Tell her,” said Julian, “that once she has recovered, we shall find someone to teach her.”

“Well, then, daughter? If he teaches you to dance—will you have him?”

Bella grinned. “Ought I to consider it for a while, do you think? Keep him guessing?”

“I don't believe you would fool anybody,” Father said. “You have loved him all your life. Are you willing, Bella?”

“I am,” she said.

I would like to thank my dear friend Molly Kelly for that long “walk on the phone” at the beginning of this project that helped so much in getting it off the ground. I am grateful, too, for the countless hours she and her daughter Suzie spent reading the manuscript and for their wise advice.

Thanks to my daughter Tamara and my son, John, who took time out of their busy lives to read all three hundred pages of their mother's latest book. Thanks, John, for insisting I add that last chapter. You were right.

And I am especially grateful to my husband, Peter, who read the book at every stage, caught any number of pesky mistakes, and encouraged me so generously along the way.

Editors never get the recognition they deserve. Special thanks to Rosemary Brosnan for her warmth and her insight and for stepping into some very big slippers.