Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume II

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “It is agreeable to see you again, also. I was hoping….”

  “Sir Garret!”

  Both Lyssa and Garret looked over to see Rose approaching. She was coming from the direction of a group of servants clustered near the house and Garret assumed she had been there the whole time and he simply hadn’t seen her. If he had, he would have approached her first before approaching Lyssa, purely for propriety’s sake, but he had to admit that Rose was the last person he’d been looking for. The woman could have been standing in front of him when he’d come into the garden and he probably still wouldn’t have seen her, his attention was only for Lyssa. From the look on Rose’s face, he was quite certain he was about to get an earful about his behavior. He braced himself.

  “My lady,” he greeted Rose politely as she came near. “It is agreeable to….”

  She cut him off. “Come with me, please,” she said, crooking a finger at him. “Now, Sir Garret.”

  Garret looked the least bit contrite, glancing at Lyssa as he complied and rolling his eyes to suggest he knew he was in for it. Lyssa lowered her head, giggling, as Garret obeyed Rose’s summons.

  In truth, Garret was glad for the opportunity to speak with Rose, for there was much to tell. Before he could open his mouth, however, Rose spoke in a firm, quiet voice.

  “Before you speak to any of the ladies in my charge, you must first seek my permission,” she said. “Is that clear?”

  He nodded sharply, once, as a man does when receiving orders from a higher source. “It is, my lady.”

  “I do not want anyone gossiping about you and my niece because you refused to follow protocol. The Wix is a hotbed of rumors and gossip, and I’ll not have it.”

  “Aye, my lady.”

  Rose cocked an eyebrow at him. “Now,” she said, slowing her irritation at him. “On to other business. Have you had the opportunity to speak to anyone who might be willing to take Lyssa into their home?”

  Again, he nodded. “I have, my lady,” he said, relaxing more with this line of conversation. “I spoke with the Earl of Worcester this morning. Christopher de Lohr has given me a missive for Lyssa to take to his wife, introducing her and asking his wife to place her in a position of respect and responsibility.”

  Rose’s taut expression slackened with astonishment. “De Lohr?” she repeated. “You mentioned him yesterday.”

  “He brought his army into London this morning and I was able to speak with him personally.”

  “And he will take Lyssa?”

  “He said that he would be honored.”

  Rose was staring harshly at him one moment, tearing up in the next. She blinked her eyes rapidly, struggling to overcome the emotion she was feeling. “Praise God,” she murmured. “I was so fearful it would be weeks or even months before we could send her away, but thank God that is not the case.”

  Garret stole a glance at Lyssa, still sitting where he had left her. Even at a distance, he could see that she was smiling at him and it was an effort not to smile in return. He doubted Rose would take it well.

  “Nay, it is not,” he said. “How soon can she be ready to leave?”

  Rose was still struggling with her emotions in the situation, now fighting to think clearly. “I should think by tomorrow,” she said. “She must have time to pack her possessions and mayhap wash a few things. Tomorrow should be soon enough. But who will escort her to the earl’s home?”

  Garret hadn’t really gotten that far in his plans but as he considered her question, there was no other answer he could give. He would have to take Lyssa because he didn’t want to trust her to anyone else. Even though it would mean perhaps two or more weeks away from London, he trusted his men at Westminster to manage the situation in his absence. He doubted John, or even Colchester, would do anything foolish at this point in time, so he wasn’t too worried about being away. Besides… there was no other choice.

  He was going.

  “I will,” he said after a moment’s consideration. “I will take a small escort with me and I will take her myself. Now, before you tell me how improper it is for me to escort her, given that I am an unmarried man and she is an unmarried woman, I swear to you that I shall behave properly at all times. I will not take advantage of the situation. But I feel very strongly that I should be the one to take her, for I would be uncomfortable to simply send her off with an escort, even if that escort was hand-selected. I feel strongly that I must protect her, personally.”

  Rose was eyeing him dubiously but, to her credit, she didn’t immediately refute him. Her attention moved back and forth between Lyssa and Garret as she contemplated the situation. In truth, she didn’t see a better option, either. In fact, she rather wanted Garret to be Lyssa’s escort because then she would know that her niece was in the best of hands.

  “Very well,” she said. “You have done so much to help her, Sir Garret, that I know you will protect her with your life. Now, you will do something else for her.”

  “Anything, my lady.”

  Rose’s gaze moved to Lyssa, who by now had returned to her violets. “Take her away from The Wix and keep her away for the day,” she said in a low voice. “I know that the duke is not in residence at the moment, but I also know that he can return at any time. I would feel better if she was away. I will provide you with some coinage, so take her someplace that she can purchase whatever she needs for this coming journey and for her new life serving the House of de Lohr. She does not have many fine garments but she can sew exquisitely, so mayhap she can select some fabric for cotes. I should like to have her well-dressed in the House of de Lohr.”

  Garret could see, in that statement, how much Rose adored her niece. Beyond all of the strictness and protocol was a genuine affection for Lyssa because there was a good deal of emotion in her voice as she spoke. It also occurred to him that Rose would miss Lyssa, no matter how unaffected she tried to appear.

  Deep down, there was sentiment.

  “No need,” he said quietly. “I shall purchase anything she wishes. As her future husband, I would happily provide her trousseau and anything else she wishes to have. I have no one else to spend my money on, my lady, so please do not deny me the pleasure of spoiling Lyssa the way she deserves to be spoiled. I beseech you.”

  A twinkle came to Rose’s eye. It was hard to deny the man when he begged so beautifully. “You always know the right things to say, do you not?”

  He gave her a half-grin. “Not always. Your niece makes me feel quite speechless at times.”

  A smile threatened on Rose’s lips, but that was quickly gone. “Then do what you must,” she said. “I will not stop you. But keep her away from here until after supper. Then, bring her back under the cover of darkness and I shall lock her away for the night, until you come for her in the morning.”

  Garret couldn’t have been more thrilled with the prospect of spending the day with Lyssa. He couldn’t ever remember spending an extended amount of time with someone he was genuinely eager to be with. Now, he even had the grumpy aunt’s permission. He couldn’t begin to describe the happiness in his heart.

  “I will, my lady,” he said. “And… thank you. For your gracious approval, I thank you.”

  Gazing into his handsome face, Rose could see he meant it. He was being genuine. She could feel her cold spinster heart warming to the man, just a little. There was part of her that was, perhaps, the least bit jealous, as well. Jealous that Lyssa would have the happiness she herself had been denied.

  “You have my approval until you go back on your word to behave properly with her,” she said. “Treat her with the care you would take with the Virgin Mary because if you ever go back on your word, then you had better be looking over your shoulder every hour of every day, because I will come for you. Is that understood?”

  “It is, my lady.”

  “Excellent. Now, go and wait for her by the servant’s entrance on the north side of the manse. That is where she will meet you.”

  “Aye, my lady.”<
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  As he turned and headed for the garden gate, Rose called after him. “And let that be a lesson to you, Sir Garret,” she said imperiously. “You shall not treat any of my ladies without respect ever again or I shall throw you from the garden just as I am now.”

  Garret thought it was rather humorous that she should make it look as if she were kicking him out. Better to stave off the gossips, he assumed. He simply paused, bowed to her, and then continued on his way, quitting the garden and heading out into the bailey beyond.

  Rickard, meanwhile, was feeling rather concerned that Lady Rose had publicly chastised his brother for his bad manners. When he left his wife to follow, Rose turned her iron will on him.

  “Sit with your wife, Rickard,” she commanded. When he immediately sat back down, Rose’s focus moved to Lyssa. “And you; come here immediately.”

  Fearful of her aunt’s tone, Lyssa did as she was told. When she obediently made her way to Rose, her aunt reached out and took her by the wrist, pulling her into the manse and leaving the impression that she was to be somehow punished for speaking to a man she was not entitled to speak to.

  Lyssa thought that, perhaps, that was going to be her fate as well. In fact, the entire way to her chamber, she was fearful that her aunt might even try to spank her for her breach in manners. But once they reached her chamber and Rose bolted the door, the truth of the matter came out.

  Lyssa wept tears of joy as Rose told her that the House of de Lohr would be her future destination and that Garret was to take her to collect necessary – and even a few unnecessary – items for her new life. It was better than she had hoped for and more than she could have dreamed of.

  Within a half-hour, Garret and Lyssa were heading from the gates of The Wix and towards the Street of the Merchants.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Inside a rather large merchant shop on the Street of the Merchants, known as Threeneedle Street, Lyssa was watching an old merchant and his wife string out rolls and rolls of fabric to show her the quality, color, and durability of it. Since Lyssa needed to inspect the product and it took two of them to bring out the rolls of material, Garret ended up being the dummy.

  Truthfully, he wasn’t quite sure how he ended up permitting fabric to be draped on his big body, but the expression on Lyssa’s face didn’t make it seem so bad. She was trying so hard not to laugh as the old man with the long white beard and his equally old wife with a visibly white mustache hung blue silk fabric over one shoulder and then green brocade fabric over the other. Lyssa didn’t want the blue but she loved the green, so the green was set aside. Just when Garret thought he had a reprieve, the merchants brought out more fabric and he found himself swathed in mustard yellow.

  “What do you think, my lady?” the merchant asked. “Beautiful, is it not?”

  The merchant and his wife were Jewish, as were most of the merchants on the street, and their accents were very heavy. “Think” sounded like “deenk”, so sometimes he had to ask the question twice before Lyssa understood him. But she and Garret had been here almost an hour, the very first merchant stall they stopped at after leaving The Wix, so now she was becoming more adept at understanding the old couple. They’d stopped repeating themselves for the most part, and Lyssa thought they were rather sweet. And they had a horde of stock in their stall, filled with more treasures than the royal treasury.

  Or, at least, it seemed that way.

  “I-It is very beautiful,” Lyssa said. “I-I should like to have it.”

  Triumphant, the old man pulled the fabric away from Garret while his wife pulled forth something else. Garret could see that they would continue to use him for a dummy as long as he stood there so, at that point, he thought to defend himself somewhat.

  “Do you truly need to have me show off these goods before you’ll buy them?” he asked, half-pleading, half-demanding.

  But Lyssa laughed softly at his misery. “T-Those fabrics would not look half as beautiful if you were not showing them to me,” she said. “Y-Yellow is truly your color. Y-You should have a tunic of that color.”

  He shook his head quickly. “Nay, lady, I shall leave the yellow to the women.”

  “B-But why? I-It is such a lovely color.”

  He smiled thinly. “On you, but not on me.”

  Lyssa could see that he was he was embarrassed and trying very hard to act like he wasn’t. “I-It is quite fashionable for men and women to wear clothing of matching color,” she said. “I-It is most impressive to see at feasts and gatherings.”

  He was shaking his head even as she said it. “Not me.”

  “N-Not even to show all men that I belong to you if we wear a matching color?”

  He looked at her then, seeing the glimmer of mirth in her eye. But there was also hope; hope that he was willing to play his part in this relationship that was forming between them. His uncertainty in just how to comply with the rules of a relationship had him rethinking his stance on matching colors. If that was what men and women did together, then perhaps he shouldn’t be so stubborn. Therefore, he pursed his lips, irritably, before breaking down into a grin.

  “If I thought I could get away with writing my name across your forehead, I would do so in order to tell all men to whom you belong,” he said softly, warmly. “But wearing clothing that match….”

  “A-All of the proper couples do that these days.”

  “She is right, my lord,” the old woman merchant agreed emphatically. She had a big stretch of a beautiful wine-colored silk in her hands. “Many young lords and ladies have matching clothing made. Would you not do it for your lady? If you do not, some man may think she does not have anyone. That would be terrible!”

  The old woman had a way of making it sound like Garret was a rotten lover for not wanting to match his lady. He could see Lyssa giggling out of the corner of his eye. In truth, his resistance was gone because he could see that it meant something to her. He meant something to her. Understanding that it was important, he surrendered.

  It made his heart joyful to see her happy.

  “Very well,” he sighed heavily. “If it means so much to you, then I will wear a tunic to match you.”

  Lyssa squealed with delight, grabbing the old woman by the arm. “T-The dark blue silk that you showed me,” she said quickly. “Y-You know the one? I-I will take that. M-Make sure there is enough for a cote for me and a tunic for him.”

  The old woman began moving quickly, snatching up a lovely blue silk from a pile draped on a nearby table. “It will be beautiful on you both,” she said happily. “Now, come and see my ribbons!”

  Flashing Garret a grin, Lyssa rushed off after the old woman, who evidently had a treasure trove of ribbons, threads, and other items that could be sewn onto a cote for embellishment. Even though the old man was trying to show Lyssa more fabric, she was swept up in gold thread and semi-precious stones that would adorn her garments, and Garret watched from afar. He couldn’t stop watching her.

  He didn’t want to.

  It was surreal, this moment in time. He’d never experienced anything like it – spending time with a woman who he was more attracted to by the second. His life had always been one of such rigorous training and duty and, most of all, surrounded by men. He was proud of his relationships with his fellow knights. But now, he was spending time with a woman and even at his advanced years, he felt like a giddy squire, as if he were just coming to learn about women for the first time.

  In truth, he was. He was feeling terribly awkward but he was more than willing to learn what he needed to know about making a woman happy, and if that meant she had to make a tunic for him that matched her dress, then so be it. He would feel stupid, but she would be happy, and that was all that mattered to him.

  “G-Garret,” Lyssa called out to him, breaking him from his train of thought. She was holding up a beautiful silver belt that had tassels on it. “W-What do you think?”

  He shrugged. “If you like it, I like it.”

  She beamed
at him and handed the belt over to the old woman, who was accumulating quite a pile from the young lady’s shopping. The old woman tugged her over to another part of the shop.

  “Come, meyn zis,” she said in her heavy accent. “See what more I have for you!”

  Garret’s eyes tracked Lyssa as she scurried after the old woman, happily leafing through all the merchant had to show her. Scarves joined the pile, and more fabric, and even hose. Ribbons joined the hose. Garret knew he was about to spend a good deal of money but he truthfully didn’t care; he’d never had so much fun spending it.

  It was a small price to pay for such happiness.

  It was another hour before they finally left the merchant’s shop, with Garret carrying a big trunk over one broad shoulder. The trunk wasn’t full because he was certain they weren’t finished shopping, and he was right. Passing by the tanner as the street bustled around them, they noted that the man had several pairs of doe-skin slippers displayed, shoes he could size to the lady who wished to purchase them, and he sized two pairs for Lyssa. They were durable and well-made, and they joined the rest of the booty in the trunk. The trunk then went back over Garret’s shoulder as they continued down the dusty road on the hunt for more treasures.

  “W-Would you like for me to help you carry the trunk?” Lyssa asked as they walked beneath the shade of a big yew tree, the only tree on the entire street. “I-It must be getting quite heavy by now.”

  He looked at her, grinning. “Do you think you can carry it?”

  She laughed softly. “I-I did not mean by myself,” she said. “B-But I can take one end of it and you can take the other. I-It would not be so much of a burden for you.”

  He shook his head, his gaze upon her was soft. “It is no burden,” he said quietly. “It is pure joy. I have waited many years to carry my lady’s trunk.”

  Lyssa gazed up at him, her cheeks flushing a gentle pink. “H-Has there ever been another lady for you?” she asked. Then, she quickly lowered her head. “T-That was a foolish question. P-Please forgive me.”