tales of the latter kingdom 08 - moon dance

by Christine Pope

  For a long moment, Mayson said nothing. Once again I saw how his mouth tightened, and a certain anguish entered his dark eyes. I could not say whence that anguish had come, only that I sensed it did not have anything to do with me.

  When he spoke, however, he sounded calm enough, with no trace of anger in his tone. Rather, there was resignation, as if he had finally faced an unpleasant truth he’d been avoiding for too long and decided there was nothing else he could do.

  “You are a wise young woman, Iselda Kelsden. I hope that one day I may find happiness with someone even half as wise.”

  If his father and my aunt and uncle had their way, I rather feared he would not. I loved my cousin, but Carella was certainly not what anyone might call wise. Lighthearted and sweet enough, but no tragedies had ever touched her, nor anything untoward which might bar her from breezing happily through her life. She had no appreciation of the lessons learned from pain, and so, I thought, would not be able to provide any true comfort to someone in need of such a thing.

  I said nothing of that, however. Mayson would have to make his own choices, whatever those might turn out to be. In the meantime, I would only try to be his friend, and hope that he might someday be able to tell me what troubled him so.

  Because the air was so taut between us, I essayed a smile and said, as carelessly as I could, “As for that, I doubt my Aunt Lyselle would think me wise for venturing out of doors on a day when the sun is so fierce. No doubt I will be as brown as a hawthorn branch by the end of the summer.”

  Mayson did not return my smile. “I think not. For you take care to keep in the shade, and besides, your skin is like milk. It is not the type to brown easily.”

  That assessment was true enough. I had given myself a burn once or twice when I was careless, but after it faded, I was as pale as ever. Whereas my cousins had inherited their father’s somewhat deeper complexion, and did have to take care to avoid looking like a gaggle of farmer’s daughters, tanned from working in the fields all day.

  “I suppose you are right,” I said. Because I knew that my aunt and uncle would be displeased if Mayson and I spent much more time alone together, I thought it best that I go back to the castle. He did not seem inclined to end the conversation, and I certainly was not rude enough to pick up my book and begin reading in front of him. “But I still think it is probably time for me to return.”

  So I bent down and gathered up my basket, only to have Mayson hurry to take it from me. When I began to protest, he only shook his head and gave me the first real smile I had yet seen from him that day.

  “You have quite enough work to do managing that hat, I think.”

  Well, I couldn’t argue with that observation. My aunt had returned from a trip to our capital of Bodenskell a month earlier armed with all sorts of insights as to the state of fashion in our fair country of Purth. Skirts were becoming more voluminous, necklines lower — although she would not allow such a trend to take hold in her household — and many of the court ladies had donned large straw hats to protect themselves from the sun.

  She’d been so taken with the hats that she’d brought back several for each of her daughters, and one each for me and Janessa as well. While I did appreciate the way the hat shielded my face from the sun, it was unwieldy enough that if I didn’t keep one hand free at all times, the broad-brimmed straw would take it into its head to go sailing off if the wind was strong enough.

  “Thank you, my lord,” I said sincerely.

  In silence, we headed away from the stream and back toward the castle, which did not look quite so dreary in the bright sunlight as it did at most other times. The structure had been built many centuries earlier, and while I supposed it must have been formidable enough when it came to resisting a siege, it was certainly not the sort of edifice to elicit admiration because of its architectural grace.

  When we were almost to the gates — which always stood open in these times of peace — Mayson gave me a quick bow and an even hastier farewell as he handed me my basket, and headed off toward the stables. It was true that he did love to ride, but in that moment I guessed he was more interested in making sure neither my aunt, nor my uncle, nor any of my cousins saw us walking together, rather than in a brisk afternoon gallop.

  Or perhaps he had decided that a long ride outside the castle’s gates was what he needed to clear his head. In that moment, I wished I could go with him. It would be good to ride away, wild and free. But I sensed he wanted to be alone, and I knew I did not have the luxury of indulging in a solitary ride without a chaperone. A walk down to the creek was one thing, and indeed the farthest I was allowed to go unless accompanied by a servant or one of my cousins.

  So I made no protest, and watched Mayson walk away, dark hair catching glints of warm copper and mahogany in the bright sunlight.

  And I wondered if he would ever tell me the real truth behind his desire to marry me.

  CHAPTER 2

  As I had expected — and rather feared — all was chaos in the wing that had been given over to “the girls,” as my somewhat beleaguered uncle liked to refer to the gaggle of young women who lived under his roof. Adalynn, being the eldest, had a room of her own, while her sisters shared the chamber next to that one, and Janessa and I occupied the room across the hall from Carella and Theranne.

  But my chamber was empty as I went there to drop off my hat and my basket, although I didn’t have to look very hard to see where everyone was. No, one of the maids went scurrying past me as I poked my head out into the hallway, and from the open door just beyond, I heard the clamor of feminine voices, apparently all talking at once.

  My first instinct was to quietly close the door to my bedchamber and retrieve my book, and hope that no one would realize where I was hiding. Unfortunately, I knew that particular stratagem would probably not work, or at least not for very long. Sooner or later, someone would come looking for me.

  So after I had taken off my hat and done my best to smooth my windblown curls, I took a deep breath and went out to Adalynn’s room. The door stood open, and I could hear Carella’s rather high-pitched voice, saying,

  “Oh, Addie! You will be the most splendid bride in all of Purth!”

  As I entered, I thought Carella’s assessment might not be that much of an exaggeration. Adalynn had inherited her mother’s beauty, and, with her chestnut hair and green eyes, actually resembled my own sister far more than I did. Now Adalynn stood in front of a tall mirror that had been brought up from her mother’s chambers, and turned this way and that as she inspected the gown of deep rose-colored watered silk she wore. Pearls had been stitched around the neckline and on the slashed sleeves, along with fine embroidery in pale gold.

  Clearly, my aunt and uncle were sparing no expense to ensure their eldest would be wed in a style that befitted both her station and the rank of the man she was marrying. I did not begrudge her the gown, or her future happiness, but at the same time, I could not help but feel a small stab of jealousy as she stood there in her gleaming gown. I doubted very much I would ever have anything so fine…even if I was lucky enough to find someone who would overlook my family’s sullied reputation.

  “It is very beautiful, and so are you,” I said, and everyone looked over in my direction, Janessa and Theranne apparently surprised by my sudden appearance, Carella obviously pleased that I agreed with her.

  But Adalynn’s full mouth thinned slightly. She and I had never gotten along that well. Or rather, I had done my best to be friendly with her, for I knew I was living on her parents’ sufferance and must do all I could to keep the peace, but she seemed to have none of it. I still wasn’t entirely certain as to the reasons for her antipathy. Certainly she could not see me as a rival. Our looks were very different, but I thought she was quite as pretty as I — if not prettier — and so there should not be any jealousy on that point. As for the rest, well, she was the eldest daughter of a baron and engaged to the son of an earl. Whereas I….

  Well, no reason to belabor
that point.

  “Yes, I do think Delanis has done well with the gown,” Adalynn said, after giving me a dismissive glance before turning back to the mirror. “I am still not certain of the color, though.”

  The other girls gave a collective gasp and began vigorously shaking their heads. “Oh, no, Addie,” Carella said at once. “That color makes your skin look like rose petals.”

  “Yes, it’s just lovely,” Janessa put in. Normally, she was quite shy and retiring, as one might expect of someone living in the household as a ward of the baron and baroness. Janessa's mother had died of a terrible wasting sickness, and her father had announced himself quite incapable of looking after a young girl on his own — although he didn’t seem to experience that same deficiency when it came to raising his son — and so she had been living with us for the past three years.

  She and I had that one thing in common, anyway. Neither of our fathers wanted anything to do with us.

  Adalynn honored Janessa's comment with a faint nod and then went back to the inspection of her appearance. Looking past my cousin, I saw that the bed and several of the room’s chairs were piled high with various high-waisted gowns and chemises, seeming to indicate that she had been trying on her wardrobe all afternoon and had decided to have the wedding dress be the climax of the activity.

  Logically, I knew this all made sense. The ceremony was now only a few days away, and so if any further alterations were required, then best she find out now while there was still some time to do something about it. On the other hand, I couldn’t prevent the uncharitable thought that Adalynn was indulging in this frenzy of peacocking about in her gowns so her sisters could see everything she had and they did not.

  No wonder that all of Carella’s interactions with Mayson lately had had a definite air of desperation about them. Adalynn would not be quite so high and mighty if her younger sister also managed to betroth herself to the son of an earl.

  And no wonder that Mayson himself was beginning to feel a bit desperate. It was clear enough to me that he felt no real attraction to her, although she was nearly as lovely as her older sister.

  Well, he was a grown man of twenty-two. He was not bound to stay here, could make his excuses at any time and leave. Such a departure might lead to some recriminations from his father, but after all, Carella was not the only unmarried woman of good birth in the kingdom. My uncle was quite wealthy, apart from his title, because of the tin mines located on his lands, and so I supposed that made Carella somewhat more of a catch. Still….

  My aunt appeared then, pausing in the doorway so she could take a look at Adalynn. Her expression was generally one of amiability, but it softened even more than usual as she took in the sight of her daughter resplendent in rose and pearls. In the next instant, however, she became all briskness and business, and strode toward the bed with an air of exasperation.

  “Look at these gowns!” she cried. “All thrown willy-nilly! Where is Delanis, and why has she allowed things to be left in such a state?”

  “I wanted her to take in the bodice slightly, and she had left her sewing basket in her room,” Adalynn said carelessly. “She will set all this to rights when she returns.”

  Aunt Lyselle did not appear mollified by this reply. She gave her daughter a more critical look this time, then shook her head. “My dear, if you take in the seams of that bodice any more, you will not be able to breathe. That, or you may find yourself exposing more of yourself than you would like if you do take a deep breath.”

  Her sisters and even Janessa giggled at this remark, but Adalynn did not seem at all pleased by her mother’s observation. “It will be fine,” she said. “I do not plan to take it in much, as that would disturb the embroidery at the neckline. But the side seams could do with an extra half inch.”

  “Hmm.” Lyselle went closer to her daughter and inspected the seams in question, then gave a sigh. “If you must. But if Delanis is going to be occupied with tearing out those seams for the tenth time, then perhaps the rest of us should tidy up this mess. Come girls,” she added briskly, “let us do what we can to make order from chaos.”

  For the barest second, Carella’s lower lip stuck out in mutiny, but then she did as she was bidden, and went over to the bed and began gathering up the discarded gowns. Likewise, Theranne and Janessa put themselves to work picking up chemises and stockings. I made a move to help, but my aunt shook her head at me. Adalynn and I were of an age, and for that reason my aunt was careful to avoid asking me to do much in her service, of doing anything that might make it seem as if I were her inferior.

  So I stayed where I was, in my post not too far away from the door, while Aunt Lyselle busied herself with tidying up the rather dizzying array of slippers that lay scattered on the floor. She put away several pairs, then picked up the next and let out a sound of dismay.

  “Goodness, Adalynn! Whatever have you been doing with your shoes? They look as if you’ve been sweeping the stable yard in them!”

  “What?” Adalynn demanded in annoyance, finally turning away from the mirror so she could inspect the shoes in question. At once her expression altered to one of consternation. “The new embroidered ones you brought me back from Bodenskell?”

  “The very ones,” my aunt said, looking none too pleased. The slippers she held were very pretty indeed, or at least had been once upon a time. Now I could see that the soles had been shredded almost to nonexistence, and the delicate embroidery in shades of blush and ivory and pale green had been torn, with loose threads hanging everywhere.

  “But I have only worn them twice!” Adalynn protested. She left the mirror and went to her mother so she could take one of the shoes and inspect it for herself. “And both times only indoors. I wanted to make sure that they stayed pretty so I might wear them with my new green gown.”

  Her mother frowned as she turned the shoe she held over in her hands. “Are you sure, my dear? For I have slippers that I’ve owned for five years which are in far better condition than these.”

  “Of course I’m sure.” Now Adalynn wore a frown to match her mother’s, her full mouth pursed in irritation. “It must be shoddy workmanship. You should complain to the shoemaker the next time you are in town.”

  “But he’s made all your other fancy shoes,” Aunt Lyselle pointed out. She went to the wardrobe and withdrew another pair, these ones in fine pale blue kid hand-painted in delicate swirls and arabesques. “These ones look as if they’ve never even been worn.”

  A shrug, the fine silk covering Adalynn’s shoulders glinting with the movement. “Perhaps he has a new apprentice, one who is not so skilled as he. All I can say is that I only wore those slippers twice, and so nothing I have done could have possibly put them in that state.”

  For a few seconds, my aunt appeared as if she wanted to pursue the topic. Then she, too, shrugged, and put the shoes she held back into the wardrobe. “Very well. I will take the matter up with him the next time I am in town.” She glanced over at her daughters and at Janessa, who had finished their tidying-up and stood all in a row beside the bed, looking rather like cadets awaiting a military review. “Thank you very much, girls. Run along to the solarium and attend to your own needlework, for it will be supper soon enough.”

  They ducked their heads and rushed out, giggling and whispering amongst themselves. Although I had not been specifically included in that command, I thought I should follow them as well. My sister was fabulously talented with her needle; I, on the other hand, possessed neither the skill nor the will to sit and make flowers bloom on cloth, or even manage the far more prosaic task of darning socks. But I was treated as a daughter of this household, and so I was expected to put in my daily hours at the activity, much as I might loathe it.

  Now, though, my aunt put her hand on my sleeve as I went past and said in low tones, so Adalynn might not overhear, “Go to your room, Iselda. I would have conversation with you there.”

  My heart sank. Perhaps the feeling of foreboding which came over me then
was only my conscience, somewhat burdened already because of what had passed between Lord Mayson and myself. It had to have been perhaps the most oblique marriage proposal ever delivered, but if my aunt inquired, I knew I could not lie and tell her that his lordship and I had spoken only of inconsequentials.

  As I knew it would be useless to protest, I bowed my head slightly and said, perhaps in a louder tone than was required, “Oh, I must go and fetch that chemise with the torn lace from my chamber.”

  The other girls did not appear terribly interested by my pronouncement, since they cared little which project would occupy my next hour. But my aunt gave the barest of approving nods, obviously glad that I had come up with an excuse not to head immediately to the solar, where the abundant light provided a good space for working on embroidery or mending.

  I headed toward my room, and, once inside, began to make rather a show of rummaging through the chest of drawers there, just in case any of the girls should lag behind and take a peek inside to see what I was up to. A moment later, though, I heard the last of their giggling and whispering recede as they descended the stairs. Soon after, my aunt came into my chamber and closed the door.

  “So Lord Mayson met you down by the stream?”

  Resisting the urge to sigh, I turned away from the dresser and nodded. My aunt might have given the impression of one who was light-headed in the extreme, concerned only with fashion and gossip and the marital futures of her daughters, but six years of sharing the same household with her had taught me something quite different. She missed very little, especially when it came to the young man everyone hoped would marry her middle daughter.

  “It is a good place to escape the heat of the day,” I said, my tone noncommittal. Yes, I knew that I would have to tell her the truth eventually, but her possible reaction worried me. I thought I might as well put it off for as long as possible.