by Sarah Hegger
Air rushed up Beatrice’s shift and cooled her. Nurse mustn’t find out about Garrett. Nurse would tell her mother for sure. Then, her mother would tell her father and—Beatrice shied away from the direction her thoughts were taking.
“Your uncle brings a party with him.” Nurse waved a pudgy finger at her. “There could be a young knight amongst them. A young knight desperately needing a wife.”
“He would have to be desperate, indeed, to come courting here.” Men looking for a wife stayed clear of Anglesea and the Lady Beatrice. Three failed betrothals took care of that.
“You will never be wed if you think like that.” Nurse never gave up. “Your sister, bless her sweet heart, stood always ready to receive her suitor.”
Beatrice rolled her eyes. It wouldn’t do any good to interrupt. Nurse would have her say. The sun was still high, forming patterns on the gleaming stone floor.
“And Lady Faye was ready, looking pretty as can be, when ill weather blew the Earl of Calder into the keep. And what happened?”
“He fell in love with her,” Beatrice recited.
“I know not of love.” Nurse stopped fussing with the hem and swayed to her feet on a lusty groan.
Beatrice held out a hand and steadied her rise.
“But what I do know is Lady Faye was ready, looking every inch a nobleman’s wife.”
“Faye was born looking that way.” Beatrice couldn’t quite control the surly note to her voice.
Her sister had been married for seven years and still Nurse carped on about her perfection. The entire kingdom knew of the beauteous Lady Faye. No less than eight ballads were written in her honor. Eight. Beatrice snorted. What was any sensible girl to do with eight ballads caroling her beauty?
“Faye never snorted like some vulgar trollop.” Nurse snatched up her brush from the oak chest in the corner. “And Faye did not go traipsing around the countryside wearing her best gown, sneaking back home with her pretty eyes full of secrets.”
“Faye was a saint.” Beatrice glared back at Nurse.
“And she still is.” Nurse nodded. “She is the image of her mother.”
“She is my mother, too.” Beatrice winced as Nurse dragged the brush through the snarl the breeze had made of her fine, straight hair.
“That she is.” Nurse tugged at a stubborn knot. “And you should make it a point to be just like your mother.”
Beatrice tried, she honestly tried, to be demure and mild-mannered and tranquil. But there was an awful lot of sitting about to being a lady. Sooner or later, the itch would start somewhere within and end in her breaking for freedom as fast as her legs could carry her.
She yelped as Nurse hit another tangle and pulled. It was hard to be the family disappointment. Of the five living children Sir Arthur and Lady Mary had sired, it stood to reason all five could not be exceptional. Her only outstanding characteristic appeared to be a propensity for finding mischief. She didn’t have to try. Every time there was mischief about, it landed at her feet.
Blessedly, Nurse found no more snarls and brushed Beatrice’s hair in long, soothing strokes.
Garrett loved her hair. He thought her beautiful and passionate and clever.
He was leaving.
Beatrice’s heart sank.
“What is that face?”
Beatrice smoothed her expression, but not fast enough to stop the interrogation.
“You are having a mope again, are you not?”
“I am not moping.” Beatrice ducked her chin to hide her face. “I do not like to be constantly reminded I am not Faye.”
It worked like a magic potion. Nurse’s expression softened. “There, there, pet.” Nurse grasped her chin. “You will find your own way.” She gave Beatrice’s cheek a pat as she released her. “You will find what makes you special.”
She already had, Beatrice wanted to yell. Garrett made her special. She shrugged and let Nurse draw whatever conclusions she wanted. Anything was better than letting Nurse get a hint of the true reason for her sudden glum mood. “How is Mother today?”
“Too old to be having another babe.” Nurse’s gaze flew to Beatrice’s and away again. “She will be fine. She has brought five healthy babes into this world and only two stillborn. She is a strong woman, your mother, and she will bear this one fine.”
Nurse sounded too hearty. The old besom was hiding something. “Will she meet Sir Godfrey?”
“Nay. Lady Mary is not having a good day, and I have tucked her up in bed. Henry will have to do what is needed.”
“Shall I go and see her?”
“Nay.” Nurse squeezed her hand. “She is resting. It is the best medicine for her.”
“She has been resting a lot of late,” Beatrice said.
“Aye.” Nurse turned her back and smoothed the bed linens. There was naught wrong with the bed linens.
Beatrice stepped closer to see Nurse’s face better. “Mother will be all right, will she not?”
“Aye, aye.” Nurse moved to smoothing the furs. She chewed on her bottom lip like she did when something troubled her. Nurse caught her looking and stopped. “Wipe your face.” Nurse swiped the cloth over her cheeks.
“Nurse.” She grabbed the cloth and pulled it away from her face. “Tell me true. Mother will be all right, will she not?”
Nurse opened her mouth and shut it again.
“Tell me.”
Nurse sighed. “I do not know.”
She snatched back the cloth and tucked it into her pocket.
Beatrice’s belly dropped. How could Nurse not know? Her mother was a constant in her life, always there and always capable and beautiful. She searched Nurse’s face for comfort.
“Nurse, you are not scared Mother will…” That horrible word lodged in her throat.
“I am not saying anything, pet.” Nurse cradled her face between her palms. “I am a foolish old woman, and why would you mind me now, when you never have before.”
Suddenly, Beatrice wanted to run to Garrett. To have him hold her and tell her all would be well. Nay. She was a selfish, wicked girl to be thinking of a man of whom her mother would, surely, not approve. She should’ve been by her mother’s side today. She would do better, be a better daughter in every way.
“There is no sense fretting,” Nurse said. “God’s will shall prevail.”
God wouldn’t take Lady Mary from this earth. Would he? Lady Mary was good and kind and beautiful.
Nurse adjusted Beatrice’s girdle, then stood back and surveyed her handiwork. “There, now you are ready.”
The King Arthur’s Legacy series
My Lady Faye
The fair Lady Faye has always played the role allotted her. She denied herself the love of her heart so she could marry the match her family wanted, yet all it brought her was years of abuse and heartache. Now, finally free of her tyrannical husband, she is able to live her own life for the first time. But someone from the past has returned. Someone she has never been able to forget.
Conquering William
He married for convenience, but William of Anglesea had hoped for more than piety from his new bride. Raised in a convent and thrice widowed, prim Lady Alice of Tarnwych seems like an innocent when it comes to the marriage bed—except for the tentative passion he senses in her touch, and sees in her eyes. It seems the bold knight has a new challenge in alluring Alice. But will seducing his intriguing wife lead to his downfall?
Meet the Author
Born British and raised in South Africa, Sarah Hegger currently lives in Colorado with her teenage daughters, two Golden Retrievers and husband. Part footloose buccaneer, part quixotic observer of life, Sarah’s restless heart is most content when reading or writing books. Visit her website at www.sarahhegger.com, find her on Facebook, and follow her on Twitter.
