by Lisa Kleypas
“Aye, just imagine.” Royce sighed as he watched the brunette march his betrothed off around the bend.
“He is—”
“Aye, I know,” Joan interrupted Brinna dryly. “He is a very nice man. You have said so at least ten times since returning to this room.”
“Well, he is,” Brinna insisted determinedly. They had arrived back at Menton nearly an hour ago. Sabrina had rushed her upstairs, then insisted Brinna wait in the hall while she went in and spoke to Joan alone. Brinna had stood there, alternately worrying over what was being said inside the room and fretting over how she would explain why she was loitering about in the hall should anyone happen upon her. Fortunately, no one had come along before Sabrina had reappeared. Stepping into the hall, she had gestured for Brinna to enter the room, then walked off, leaving her staring after.
A moment later, Brinna had straightened her shoulders and slid into the room to find Joan seated in the chair by the fire awaiting her. Brinna had not hesitated then, but had walked determinedly toward her. After rejoining the group, she had spent the better part of that afternoon considering everything she had learned to date. And it had seemed to her that, while Lady Joan was reluctant to marry Royce, it was due to some obvious misconceptions. Someone had misled her. Lord Thurleah was neither a backward oaf nor a country bumpkin given to rough wooing. He was just as polite and polished as any of the other lords. And it seemed to Brinna that she was in a position to correct this situation. All she had to do was tell Lady Joan the truth about Lord Thurleah’s nature and the girl would resign herself to being his bride. Lady Joan, however, did not appear to wish to hear what she was trying to tell her. Still, she’d decided she had to try. “He isn’t what you said. He doesn’t woo roughly. He—”
“Brinna, please.” Joan laughed, digging through her chest for Lord knows what as she went on gently. “My dear girl, you are hardly in a position to judge that. It is not as if you have spent a great deal of time around nobility.”
“Aye, but, he-he spoke real pretty. He—”
“You mean he was very complimentary?” Joan asked, pausing to frown at her as Brinna nodded quickly. “Well, then, say that. Ladies do not say things like ‘he spoke real pretty.’ And do try to slow your speech somewhat. That is when you make the most mistakes.”
Brinna sighed in frustration, then took a moment to calm herself before continuing in the modulated tones Joan had spent that first night trying to hammer into her head. “You are correct, of course,” she enunciated grimly. “I apologize. But he truly is not the way you think he is. He was very complimentary. He said your eyes twinkled, your hair was as soft as down, and your lips—”
“It doesn’t matter. I am not marrying him,” Joan declared firmly, then closed the lid of the chest with a sigh and turned to face her. “Now, Sabrina told me about the little incident of your falling out of the wagon.”
Brinna felt herself flush and sighed unhappily. “Aye. She nudged me and—”
“It doesn’t matter. All I wanted to say was to be more careful in future. And try to remember that you are a lady while pretending to be me and should comport yourself accordingly.”
“Aye, my lady,” she murmured.
“So, you’d best change quickly and make your way down to the meal.”
Brinna’s eyes widened at that. “Should I not go below and fetch you something to eat first?”
Joan arched an eyebrow at that “That would look odd, do you not think? A lady fetching a meal for her servant?”
“Nay, I meant that I could change into my own dress and—”
“That will not be necessary. I have already eaten.”
Brinna stilled at that news, confusion on her face as she considered how that could have come about. One look at Lady Joan’s closed expression told her that she was not to dare ask. Sighing, she shook her head. “Still, I should at least go down to the kitchens for a minute. They will wonder if they don’t see me every once in a while.”
“They saw you today.” When Brinna blinked at that news, the other girl smiled wryly and admitted, “I donned your dress and the cloth you wore over your hair in case anyone came looking for you while you were out on the mistletoe hunt as me. Someone did. I think it was your Aggie. At least she seemed a lot like the old woman you described to me.”
“What happened?” Brinna gasped.
Joan shrugged. “Nothing. She said Cook had said ’twas all right for her to bring you something to eat and check on you. I told her that ‘Lady Joan’ had left a whole list of chores to do while she was gone and thanked her for the food. They won’t expect to see you again today. That is why I told you to inform them that I wanted you to sleep in my room. So they wouldn’t expect to see much of you.”
“And she didn’t suspect that you were not me?” Brinna asked with disbelief.
“Who else would she have thought I was?” Joan laughed dryly. “No one would suspect that a lady of nobility would willingly don the clothes of the servant class.”
“Nay, I suppose not,” Brinna agreed slowly, but felt an odd pinch somewhere in the vicinity of her chest. Aggie had raised her. Watched her grow into womanhood. Surely the woman could tell the difference between her own daughter and an impostor?
“Come now.” Joan clapped her hands together. “Change and get downstairs, else you will be late for the meal.”
“Aye, my lady.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Riding? On that great beast?”
Brinna stared at the mount before her with nothing short of terror. This was the fourth day of her escapade, but it was the first day that she did not have Sabrina dragging her about, lecturing her as she avoided the rest of the guests while a frustrated Lord Thurleah trailed them, doing his best to be charming and friendly to the back of Brinna’s head. Brinna had actually begun to feel sorry for the poor man as he’d tried to shower attendance on her while Sabrina blocked his every advance. His Lordship was not finding this courting easy. Or at least he hadn’t been until this morning, for this morning Sabrina was bundled up in bed, attempting to fight off the same chills and nausea that had kept Lady Joan’s maid and father from accompanying the others to Menton for Christmas.
Sabrina had started coming down ill the day before, and it had shown. She had lacked her usual bulldog-like promptness in blocking any speech between Brinna and the others, to the point that Brinna had actually had the opportunity to murmur, “Aye, my lord,” twice. Brinna had also made their excuses when, after sitting down to sup with the others, Sabrina had stared at the food before them, her face turning several shades of an interesting green before she had suddenly clawed at Brinna’s arm, gasping that they had to leave the table…at once!
Recognizing the urgency to her tone, Brinna had risen quickly and escorted Joan’s cousin upstairs, where thee girl had made brief friends with the chamber pot before collapsing onto the bed clutching the stomach she had just emptied, proclaiming that she was surely dying. And if she wasn’t, she wished she were.
She hadn’t looked much better this morning. If anything she had seemed weaker, which was hardly surprising since she had spent the better part of the night with her head hanging over the chamber pot until there had simply been nothing left for her stomach to toss into it. Perhaps it was due to that weakness that she had not fought too hard to convince Joan to keep Brinna from impersonating her that day and to send a message that they were both ill. What ever the case, she had not argued too vigorously, and Joan had decided that Brinna should go ahead, saying that Brinna had had several days in the company of the other nobles and would most likely be fine. Joan had merely reminded Brinna to try to say as little as possible, keep her head bowed, and not allow herself to be alone with Lord Thurleah.
Trying to tamp down the excitement whirling inside her, Brinna had nodded solemnly, then gone to the door to greet Lord Thurleah as he had arrived to escort her to Mass. If she had felt a secret plea sure at the idea of spending the day alone with Lord Thurleah, well,
as alone as one could be in the company of the rest of the Menton guests, he had looked decidedly pleased by the news that Sabrina was too ill to accompany them that day.
Smiling charmingly, he had clasped her hand on his arm and escorted her to Mass as usual, but afterward, rather than steer her toward the great hall as he had every other morning, he instead had led her here to the stables, explaining that he had planned a surprise for her and Sabrina that morning. He had thought that a ride might be a nice change and had sent word to the stables to prepare their horses. Which was how she found herself standing before the three great beasts now eyeing her suspiciously, her heart stuck somewhere in the vicinity of her throat as she contemplated dying trampled beneath their hooves. For surely that was what would happen should she attempt to ride one of the saddled animals before her. Lord Thurleah might think that a ride would be a nice change, but Brinna could not help but disagree with him. Scullery maids did not have reason to be around the beasts much, and certainly didn’t get the chance to ride them.
“Did I make a mistake, m’lady? This is your mount, isn’t it?” the stable boy asked anxiously. Brinna cleared her throat and forced a smile.
“Aye. ’Tis my horse. I.…I just thought.…Well, ’twas a long journey here. Mayhap ’twould be better if she was allowed to rest,” she finished lamely, and wasn’t surprised when the stable lad and Royce exchanged slightly amused smiles before Royce murmured, “I was told you arrived at noon the day before I did. If so, then your mount has had four days to rest, my lady. No doubt she would enjoy a bit of exercise about now.”
“Oh, aye,” she murmured reluctantly, and wondered what to do. Lady Joan had not prepared her for a situation like this. Though she probably would have had she had a horse handy in her room at the time, Brinna thought wryly. She blinked suddenly as a thought came to her. Mayhap the girl had prepared her. Managing a grimace of disappointment, she turned to face Royce and the stable boy.
“What a lovely surprise, and it would have made a nice change too,” she said, careful to enunciate clearly as Joan had taught her. “But as Sabrina is too ill to accompany us, and it isn’t proper for a lady to be alone with a man who isn’t her husband, well…” She paused to add a dramatic little sigh before finishing with, “I fear the ride shall have to be put off until Sabrina can accompany us.”
“Aye, you are right, of course.” Frowning thoughtfully, Royce turned to pace several steps away, and Brinna was just beginning to relax when he suddenly snapped his fingers and whirled back. “My man can accompany us.”
“What?” she cried in alarm.
“My man Cedric can accompany us. He will make a fine chaperon. Unsaddle Lady Sabrina’s mount, lad, and prepare Cedric’s instead,” he instructed as Brinna’s eyes widened in horror.
“Oh, but—” she began, panic stealing any sensible argument she might have come up with. She was left gaping after him as he strode out of the stables determinedly.
“Bloody hell,” she breathed as he disappeared, then turned back to eye the mount that would be hers as the stable boy led Sabrina’s horse off. Joan’s mare didn’t look any happier at this turn of events than she felt. The beast was eyeing her rather suspiciously, and Brinna couldn’t help thinking the horse knew that she wasn’t Joan and was wondering what had become of the girl. Brinna was so sure of what the look in the beast’s eyes meant that she shifted uncomfortably and murmured, “I haven’t harmed ’er. Yer lady’s alive and well.” Noting that the horse didn’t look particularly convinced, Brinna frowned. “It’s true. ’Sides, this is all her doin’. She—”
“Who are you talking to?”
Brinna gave a start at that question, and glanced over her shoulder to find that Royce had returned and now towered over her shoulder. He was big. Very big. Why, she imagined if they stood in the sun side by side, he would cast a fine patch of shade for her to stand in. “My mare,” she murmured absently, trying to judge how much wider he was. Probably twice as wide as she, she decided a bit breathlessly, not noticing the way he shook his head before sharing an amused glance with the older man who now accompanied him.
“This is my man Cedric. You may remember him from the mistletoe hunt?”
“Oh, aye. Greetings, my lord,” Brinna murmured, and recalling her lessons on greeting people, started to sweep into a graceful curtsy that Lord Thurleah halted by catching her elbow. “He is a knight, not a lord,” Thurleah explained gently, and Brinna felt herself flush.
“Oh, well.” She hesitated, unsure how to greet the man now, then merely nodded and offered a smile, which was gently returned.
“Here you are, m’lord. I returned the lady’s horse to its stall and prepared Sir Cedric’s.” The stable lad led the new horse forward to join the other two.
“Ah. Very good. Fast work, boy,” Giving him an approving nod, Royce turned Brinna toward the door and led her out of the stables, offering her a smile as he went. Swallowing, Brinna managed a weak smile in return, but her attention was on the three horses Sir Cedric was now leading out behind them.
“I…” Brinna began faintly as he brought the horses to a halt beside them, but what ever she would have said died in her throat and she nearly bit her tongue off as Royce suddenly turned, caught her at the waist, and lifted her up onto the animal that was Lady Joan’s. Once he had set her down on the sidesaddle, he paused to eye her solemnly, his eyebrows rising slightly.
“Are you all right, Lady Joan? You have gone white as a clean linen.”
“Fine,” Brinna squeaked.
“You are not afraid of horses, are you?”
“Nay, nay,” she gasped.
“Nay, of course not,” he murmured to himself “You rode here on this beast.”
“Ahhhaye.” The lie came out as a moan.
Royce nodded almost to himself, then cleared his throat and murmured, “Then, if you are not afraid, my lady, why is it you are clutching me so tightly?”
Brinna blinked at the question, then shot her eyes to her hands. They had tangled themselves in the material of his golden tunic and now clawed into it with all the determination of someone who was positive that should he release her, she would surely fall to her death. Lady Joan would not do that, of course, she told herself firmly. Forcing a smile that felt as stiff as wood, she forced her hands to release their death grip and smoothed the material down. “ ’Tis fair soft material, my lord. Quite good quality.”
“Ah.” Looking unsure as to what to make of her behavior, he released his hold on her waist and started to move away, only to step quickly back and catch her once more as she immediately started to slip off the sidesaddle. “I am sorry, I thought you had already braced your feet,” he muttered, easing her back onto the saddle again.
Swallowing, Brinna dug about the animal’s side with her feet under her skirts in search of what ever it was he thought would be there to brace her feet. She found it after a moment, an inch or so higher than her feet fell. Of course, Lady Joan was a couple of inches shorter than her, and of course that would have been the perfect height for her. For Brinna it meant bending her legs more than she should have had to and resting at a most awkward position. This time when he released her, she managed to keep her seat, and even summoned a wobbly smile as she accepted the reins he handed her.
As he turned to mount his own horse, Brinna wrapped the reins desperately around her hands to be sure she did not lose them. Only then did she risk a glance toward the ground. As she had feared, it appeared to be a mile or more away. Aye, the ground was a long, long way down, and she could actually almost see it rushing toward her as if she were already falling off the beast. Shutting her eyes, she sat perfectly still, afraid to even breathe as she frantically wondered what the order was to make the animal move when the time came to do so. She needn’t have worried. The moment Royce urged his own mount forward, and his man Cedric followed, the mare fell into line behind them.
They started at a sedate pace, but even that was enough to make Brinna wobble precariously
in her seat and tighten her grasp on the reins desperately as they moved through the bailey. She was positive she would not make it out of the gates, but much to her amazement she did, and even began to relax a bit. But then they crossed the bridge and reached the land surrounding the castle and Royce suddenly urged his mount into a canter.
Brinna’s horse followed suit at once, and she began to bounce around on the animal’s back like a sack of turnips in the back of a cart on a rutted path. Every bone in her body was soon aching from the jarring they were taking. Still, she held on, her teeth gritting together, as she told herself that it would soon be over. It seemed to her that they had been riding for hours when Royce and his man suddenly turned to glance back at her. Forcing her lips into a tight smile, she freed a hand to wave at them in what she hoped was a careless manner. They had barely turned forward again when her foot slipped off the bar brace and she slid off the horse. All would have been well had she not wrapped the reins around her hands as she had. She would have tumbled from the horse into a nice pile of snow and that would have been that. Unfortunately, the reins were wrapped around her hand and she didn’t at first have the presence of mind to unwrap them. She hung down the side of the mount, shrieking in terror as her feet and lower legs were dragged through the snow. Her shrieks, of course, just managed to terrify her mount and urge it into a faster run, which made her scream all the louder.
Royce glanced over his shoulder toward Lady Laythem, saw her wave, and glanced back the way he was heading. He had decided on this ride in an effort to get her alone. He had heard a great deal about her being spoiled and snobbish from his cousin, but so far the woman had not quite fit that description. While it was true she was silent most of the time, which could be mistaken for snobbery, he was beginning to think it merely shyness. Truly, the girl seemed to shrink within herself when in the company of others. Of course, that cousin of hers didn’t help any. Sabrina answered every question he addressed to the girl in an effort to draw her out, and usually positioned herself between the two of them. It was most annoying. He was hoping that once alone Lady Laythem would shed some of that shyness and show her true nature.
