His Fair Lady (22 page)

The woman made a moue then turned her
attention to her dinner companion and launched into a fresh topic,
this on how extraordinarily elegant and accomplished the queen was.
“That is, for one so young,” Lady Edith clarified.

Sir Royce expelled a breath that spoke of
impatience then gave his attention to the minstrels in the
hall.

“Look there. Is that not Guy of Lisors?” He
pointed to a man with a plume in his hat, plucking his lute as he
roamed along the tables, entertaining with some verse.

Ana turned her eyes to the knight’s, warmly
aware of his hand still lingering upon her leg. “I hope he’s not
finished the verses he was composing on our journey.”

“You mean the ones of us?” Sir Royce smiled,
then a clouded look came into his eyes as though merely voicing the
word “us” had triggered some thought, some emotion. He withdrew his
hand from her thigh as though startled to find it there.

“Have you ever seen anything such as that,
Lady Juliana?” He directed her attention to a troupe of dancers,
one bending herself into a knot, others twirling about, creating
undulating patterns in the air with long, colorful scarves.

As the knight fell silent, Ana gave her
attention for a time to the jugglers and musicians delighting the
diners while they feasted and chattered. Courses continued to
arrive in dizzying variety, the traffic of servants, squires, and
entertainers endless.

Ana nibbled on a sugared almond, allowing
her gaze to travel slowly around the hall.

The lords and ladies supped and sopped and
downed goblets of the unpalatable wine. The sophistication of the
court ladies intrigued her, yet, like much of the conversation
swirling about her, there was much artifice there. ‘Twas obvious
they added false pieces to their hair. Few could possess such
abundance, Ana deemed, and the color of the extra pieces often did
not match the owner’s own tresses. More curious was the white
powder and vermilion tints the ladies used on their faces, giving
them pallid complexions and bright cheeks.

One could easily become seduced by the
extravagances she found here — furs and jewels, silks and velvets,
tapestries and fine furnishings at every turn. Gold plate gleamed
upon the cupboard standing left of the dais, and the food was
bounteous. Yet as Ana looked about, she found the dogs gnawing on
bones in the rushes, one even rising long enough to relieve
himself. Intermittently, the falcons would flap their wings,
striving to keep their balance, and the monkey threw grapes at the
diners.

Upon the dais, the queen appeared
outwardly devoted to King John, yet she was a flirtatious
creature, Ana noted, especially with the other great nobles
who shared the royal table. Elsewhere in the hall, she saw
secretive looks exchanged and private touches meant to go
unnoticed.

‘Twas a world apart, both wonderful and
appalling, Ana thought, the experience one of extremes. Even if she
were Lady Juliana Mandeville, a noble maid and heiress, she
questioned whether this was truly a life to be desired. ‘Twas
communal, lacking of privacy, having its own strict codes and
mores. Then too, women were ever used as pawns to further men’s
authority, given in wedlock to secure alliances to the most
powerful or highest bidder. ‘Twas a life of refinement, comfort,
and privilege, yet one without freedom, leastwise for a woman.

Ana chewed on her lip. Perhaps that judgment
was unfair. Women were granted little license anywhere, be it in a
hovel or in a castle. Still, she believed she might enjoy more
freedom as a townswoman than as a cosseted noble lady. Certainly,
she would in the matter of love.

A pretty tune reached Ana’s ears as a
minstrel strolled slowly along the length of the table. Her heart
picked up its beat. She recognized the tune, but could not place
it. Still, she held certain she’d heard it before.

A sudden pain stabbed at Ana’s temple. She
recoiled, pressing her fingers there. As she did, a woman’s face
flashed before her mind’s eyes — a woman with golden hair and wide
arching brows. In the next breath, the image was gone.

“Lady Juliana, is aught the matter?”

Ana looked up and found the knight studying
her.

“I’m not sure,” she said in a shaky whisper,
glancing about her. The lords and ladies were presently engaged
with the antics of the court fool, laughing at his exaggerated
lunacy.

Ana reached for the goblet and took a
generous drink, then grimaced at the taste. Wiping her mouth with
the back of her hand, she drew a sharp look from Lady Edith.

Trumpets sounded anew, causing Ana to
wince. Yet another procession commenced at the lower end of the
hall. There, four men entered carrying an enormous pie encased in a
pastry
coffyn
. ‘Twas so
large, the men bore it on a litter, formed of two planks suspended
between them and braced on their shoulders.

Conveying the pie to the center of the
chamber, they lowered it onto a table with great ceremony. Again
the horn sounded as one of the men, appearing to be of senior rank,
drew out his knife and made a large, X-shaped incision in the
crust’s domed top. Within seconds, the pastry flew into bits as a
host of live birds escaped the pie and flapped furiously up toward
the ceiling.

Clamoring from their benches, the nobles
hastened to free their falcons of their jesses and hoods and
release them. To Ana’s horror the hawks swept into the rafters and
attacked the birds. A great screeching and crying ensued overhead,
whilst bird blood rained down on those below. Ana scrambled from
the bench, appalled as blood pelted her hair and gown, streaking
the fabric red.

The hounds barked excitedly as the chaos
continued in the rafters, pouncing on any wounded or lifeless birds
that plummeted to the rushes. Inconceivably, the people laughed and
cheered the spectacle, finding great amusement in the barbaric
game, even as they continued to be spattered with blood. Ana fled,
stumbling across the rushes and ran gracelessly on.

“Lady Juliana!” Sir Royce’s voice sounded
directly behind her.

Ana hastened toward the doors, slowing not a
whit. But in an instant, the knight’s fingers closed on her upper
arm and he whirled her around against him. Without thinking, Ana
pummeled his chest and struggled against his strength.

“Let me go! I don’t belong here, I
don’t
want
to belong here.
‘Tis your fault I’m here at all. Take me back to Chinon. Take me
back!” she cried desperately, fighting down tears.

“And break Lord Gilbert’s heart?”

When she continued to hit at his chest, he
gave her a firm shake then drew her aside for a measure of
privacy.

“Listen to me. Despite this night, and no
matter who you believe Lord Gilbert to be — your grandfather or a
deluded old man — he is failing. That much I learned from the
queen’s physick, before we went to his chambers. Leave and you will
quicken him to his grave.”

Ana wrenched free of the knight’s hold and
rubbed at her arms, then swiped at a wetness she felt on her
face.

“You trap me with words and sentiments for
someone I do not know.” She hurled the accusation, trembling where
she stood. “I’ve no wish to be a lady, especially if it means being
present to such vile practices.”

Sir Royce took a step toward her, and she
saw now how his own clothes were spattered too.

“Juliana, I was unprepared for this, as
well, though I’ve heard of such things.”

He reached a hand toward her, but Ana shook
her head and fell back a pace. She dropped her gaze to her
beautiful rose-colored gown, befouled with blood.

“Look at me, my fine kirtle, ‘tis ruined.
Ruined, like so much else in my life.” Tears spilled over her
cheeks and wet the fabric, mingling with the stains. “Blood does
not come out, you know. Some things in life are impossible to
repair.”

Ana withdrew into herself falling silent,
and, at last, allowed the knight to conduct her back to her
chamber.

The knight moves two spaces forward, then one
to either side.”

“Two spaces forward, but in any direction
you say?” Ana concentrated on the checkered board, her brows
knitted.

“That’s right, like so.” Lord Gilbert placed
the horseman on a red square.

“‘
Tis very beautiful.” Ana admired the
small marble carving, plucking it up and turning it in her
fingers.

Lord Gilbert chuckled. “In the midst of a
game, dear child, I must caution you to leave the gaming pieces in
position or you will gain your partner’s ire.”

“Oh yes, of course.” Embarrassed, Ana
quickly replaced the little knight on the square.

“‘
Tis no matter, Juliana. We play only
a practice game, and I fear I’ve wearied you long enough with its
many rules for one day.” He gestured for his servant, Godric, to
take the board and pieces away.

The man was not the same as the quarrelsome
one with the purplish nose whom she’d encountered yesterday.
Instead, Godric was large and solidly built, having sand-colored
hair and a passive nature.

“I would have that item you laid out for me
earlier,” Lord Gilbert called after the servant, retreating across
the chamber.

“Chess is a most interesting game, my lord.”
Ana smiled, bringing the lord’s attention back to her. “Thank you
for your patience with me. ‘Tis very complex.”

“Very
, for
everyone, child. ‘Tis meant to be so. Sharpens the mind.” He tapped
a finger to his forehead. “Ah, here we are.”

Lord Gilbert reached out to accept a small
bundle wrapped in blue silk from Godric. In turn, he placed it in
Ana’s hands.

“Open it, child, open it,” he urged, his
voice bright with excitement as though he were a young boy.

His enthusiasm catching, Ana fingered the
lustrous silk, her curiosity rising. Feeling something hard and
flat within the folds, something having little thickness, she began
to unwind the fabric. A creamy object appeared. ‘Twas an elegant
ivory comb, its spine carved with a profusion of flowers.

“How beautiful,” Ana voiced softly as she
turned it over in her hand.

Lord Gilbert’s gaze remained firmly fixed on
her. “Do you remember it, Juliana?”

“No, not really. Should I?”

“‘
Twas your mother’s, the Lady Alyce.
She would comb your hair with it each evening before you went to
bed, and she would sing soothing songs, so you’d sleep peacefully
and no nightmares would plague you.”

Ana drew a finger over the comb’s delicate
carving. “And did little Juliana have nightmares?” she asked,
curious.

“At times, but Lady Alyce and your
faithful nursemaid, Aldis, were ever near and would chase them
away.
^”

Aldis?
Ana
sensed she knew that name.

“Of course, there are other things of your
mother’s at Penhurst. Your father’s too. I’ve preserved it all. As
soon as I can manage it, we will travel there. Penhurst will one
day be yours. ‘Tis nothing so grand as Wallingford, of course, but
a fine estate all the same. You once loved your visits there as a
young girl.” He smiled, then gestured to the piece in her hands.
“Keep the comb with you, Juliana. Perhaps ‘twill awaken some memory
when you least expect it.”

“But I couldn’t.”

“Indeed, you must.” He stretched to pat her
hand. “Humor me, Juliana. ‘Twill give me great pleasure knowing
‘tis with you.”

Ana held no wish to take the comb, knowing
it to be so precious to the old lord, but at his continued
insistence she relented.

“Thank you. I promise to take special care
of it.” Wrapping the blue silk about the comb, she then fitted it
into her purse, suspended from her corded belt.

Strains of music drifted through the window,
rising, it seemed, from directly below the tower. As a young man’s
voice sounded, Ana realized with a ripple of surprise that he sang
words of longing and unrequited love.

“I believe you have an admirer.” Lord
Gilbert smiled. “The lad sounds to have been sorely wounded by
Venus’s arrow.” He gave a small laugh. “Ah, to be young.”

Her interest piqued, Ana rose and crossed to
the window.

“Take care not to encourage these
love-smitten swains,” Lord Gilbert advised in a light but earnest
tone. “Enjoy their suits and flatteries, but take care in how you
respond. They have been known to go to strange and ridiculous
excesses — sometimes dangerous — to win a lady’s attentions. ‘Tis
the plague of ‘courtly love’ that afflicts our young men these
days.”

“Courtly love? I’m not sure what that is
exactly.”

Ana gazed down on the youth below, then
smiled. Instantly, he ceased his song, sinking to the ground as his
hand moved over his heart. For a moment, she feared he had
collapsed of some malady, but next saw he was well and smiling,
staring up at her with great calf eyes.

The clash of metal and movement on the other
side of the curtain wall jerked Ana’s attention away. From the
tower, she could easily see over the ramparts to a space of open
ground on the other side of the wall. This she understood to be the
lists where the knights honed their skills. Indeed she could see a
dozen men gathered there now, challenging themselves and each other
at varied tasks.

Almost at once, she spied Sir Royce. He
stood tall and bare chested, his muscled frame disturbingly
magnificent as he wielded his sword against that of his younger
opponent. Ana thought the latter to be one of the squires she’d
seen in the hall last night. Surely, he was no match for Sir Royce.
Presumably, the knight only tested him.

As though he could feel her gaze, Sir Royce
turned his eyes briefly toward the tower, spotting Ana at the
window. She smiled widely and lifted her hand in a wave, wondering
if he’d purposely sought her there. But when his attention lingered
a moment too long, his young partner bested him, jabbing the blunt
end of his sword into the knight’s stomach to claim a win.