by Jackie Ivie
But it only worked because he didn’t turn about.
~ ~ ~
“You are very quiet, my lord.”
“I’m thinking.”
“May I ask of what?”
They were almost back to the patch of rosemary. Devon wasn’t holding her in a loving embrace. Perhaps he wished to spare her from his damp clothing, but it felt more like he was trying not to touch her at all. He hadn’t said one word the entire ride. The day had darkened, too, somehow reflecting the change. At the long pause her question caused, she began to wish she’d not asked it.
“I am thinking of my wife...and how to best approach her.”
“Your wife?”
“She’s fond of playing games. I believe it due to her upbringing. I thought she played one. I was wrong. I have even received several clues...but I was too thick-headed to catch them.”
Bessie looked down at her hands holding to Black-Heart’s mane. She was grateful she sat in front of him. The joy spreading through her would have been impossible to miss. It turned the sunlight to rays of glittery gold. Took each new breath to intoxication level. Altered the field of weeds to a vivid array of color. She was amazed her voice didn’t carry it.
“And...now?”
“Oh. That is between her and me. Here. This is where I found you. You may dismount.”
“You are not going to assist me?”
“Very well.”
Devon put his hands about her waist and pulled her off his horse. He didn’t wait for her feet to land before letting go. Bessie stumbled and almost fell into the bushes. “Why, you—!”
“Save your anger for your husband. He deserves it. I leave you now. I’m going to go find my wife. I’ve some explaining to do.”
He moved before he’d even finished speaking. Bessie watched him with wide eyes, her jaw slack. What she’d not thought possible was actually happening! He was choosing his wife over the redhead. He’d as much as said so. He was on his way right now, to find her and explain.
Oh dear!
That’s when she remembered the obvious. She was his wife. Devon was on horseback. She couldn’t possibly overtake him. Bessie held in a screech. She mustn’t waste breath on such a trifle. She had a husband to meet with.
She grabbed two handfuls of skirt and started running.
~ ~ ~
“Augusta! Help...me!”
Bessie couldn’t get two words out without panting. She held to the wall and tried to suck in breath. She’d never run so far and fast in her life. The courtyard in front of her spun, her legs sagged, and then she slid to her knees.
“My lady? What has happened? Have you been overtaken by brigands? I’ll call out the guards!”
Bessie shook her head. And then Regina rushed up.
“Oh, my! You’re her! I mean, she’s you. I mean—I can’t believe this! Does Devon know? Of course, he doesn’t. If he knew, he’d not be away at the swamp. At least, I don’t think he would be. He doesn’t know, does he?”
“You are not to go telling him, either, young lady. I’ll not have it.”
“I wouldn’t do that. I promise. I do. I won’t tell a soul. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to tell them, anyway.”
“You are in good company, then.”
“Why is she pretending to be a servant? I don’t understand.”
“Now Regina. There are some things we are not meant to understand. One is the workings of the heart. Love can sometimes be a difficult thing. You’ll find out when it’s you. Don’t look at me that way. I know what I speak of.”
“She’s pretending to be someone else...because she is in love?”
“Exactly.”
“Now, I truly don’t understand.”
“My lady doesn’t wish to be one of your brother’s...ah, how can I put this delicately? She doesn’t want to be one of his...other interests. Do you know what I speak of?”
“I am fifteen, you know. I am not a child. It’s not at all clear, though. If she’s a servant, what does she expect from him? He couldn’t be more than a lover, could he? And wouldn’t that make her one of his interests?”
Augusta’s eyebrows rose clear to the brow line of her red wig. “My goodness! You are right. You are definitely not a child.”
“I just told you I wasn’t, and you’re not answering me.”
“I’m covering over my shock, Regina, love. You’ve a blunt way of talking that can be off-putting, to say the least. Let me explain. Where to start? Let me see. Court. Yes. That’s it. Your brother was apparently quite the heartbreaker at Queen Elizabeth’s court. Bess here, didn’t wish hers broken. So...she’s been testing him. That boy is a sly one, too. He’d many an assignation with those ladies-in-waiting when he wasn’t attending to—.”
“Augusta!” Bess interjected. “Please! You’ve got...to help me. Both of you! I need...to get to my room...and quickly!”
“I’m sorry, my lady. My tongue was getting away with me for a spell. We’ll just have you up the stairs in no time.”
“I can’t go up the stairs. He’ll see me!”
“How do you expect to do it, then? Fly?”
“Perhaps I could try...climbing the walls?”
“Climbing the walls?” Regina asked. “I don’t think that’s possible. If it were, my brothers would have been doing it long before this.”
Bessie looked away for a moment to hide any expression.
“What have you done to your dress, my lady? Has there been an accident?” Augusta asked.
Bess stood up. The courtyard was no longer spinning. That was one thing gained. She also had her breath back. “I have to change. That’s why I must get to my chamber. I have to be changed before Devon finds me.”
“Devon isn’t home. He doesn’t come back in until sunset. That’s hours yet.”
“He’s home, Regina. Trust me. He’s looking for me. He just told me so.”
“He just what?”
“I told you it doesn’t make much sense at times, Regina. What can we do to help you, my lady?”
“I’ve got to meet with him as myself. You’ve got to help me!”
“She’s got to meet with him as whom?”
“It will confuse a body, no matter how old they are. She’s got to get all covered up as Lady Hilde, and Devon somehow figures in it. Scout ahead, young lady. Make certain the stairway is clear. We’ll be behind you, awaiting your signal.”
“Right. Follow me, then.”
Regina put her fingers to her lips and ran to the side of the keep. Bessie had to smile at the way the girl checked about before slinking through the garden door. Regina’s actions were so calculated-looking, she was impossible to miss.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Devon wasn’t hard to spot. He was in Bessie’s chamber. With the door open. Regina rushed around the corner and apprised them of it.
“He’s in your room! He almost saw me! I had to duck.”
Her words were followed by Devon’s voice.
“You tell me she’s gone? To where? I’ve searched the entire keep and the grounds outside. None have seen her. I insist on speaking with my wife. I’m not leaving this chamber.”
“You can’t go in there,” Regina said. “Especially without a veil. And with your clothing all rumpled...and covered with grass stains.”
Bess looked down at her skirt. She didn’t need a looking-glass to know how pink her face must be. Augusta answered.
“Well. We can’t stay out here awaiting discovery. This is a fine puzzle you’ve got, my lady. What to do now?”
“Perhaps there is something in the laundry?” Regina asked.
“Oh my heavens, that it! You are very bright, Regina, love. It worries me for the future.”
“Why so?”
Roberta’s sister snorted lightly. “The young! They think they invented all this sneaking about. Come along. We’d best hurry. His lordship does not sound in a patient mood. I’ll go and search the laundry shed. But then, you’ve got another issue,
my lady. Where will you change?”
“She can use my chamber,” Regina offered. “Devon won’t think to look for you there. It’s in one of the turrets. Come on!”
“Augusta? Find me something pretty.”
“What about a headdress? And veil?”
“Yes! I’ll need those. At least...to start with. Just think of it, Augusta! Today may be the day!”
“Oh! I’ll find you a perfect dress. Never you fear. Now, quick! Follow Regina. And you might wish to attend to your hair. It’s a bit...mussed. You may also have to pull a bit of water for the ewer. You could use...a bit of freshening up.”
“Freshening up?”
“Well, I wasn’t going to mention it, my lady, but you’ve got a touch of mud beneath your chin. Looks about the size of a thumbprint to me.”
Bessie made an inarticulate sound. Regina grabbed her arm.
“Come along already! Before someone sees us!”
And then Bessie was running again.
~ ~ ~
Less than a half-hour later, Bess stood outside her chamber door. She smoothed down the gold brocade skirt, and then worked on calming her breathing. Augusta had been efficient, but the dress she’d brought was far too ostentatious for the occasion. The gown she’d brought was worthy of an audience with royalty. The gold brocade outer-dress had sleeves that ended at Bessie’s elbows, where scarlet-colored lace had been attached. The inner dress was fashioned of tightly-woven cream linen, embroidered throughout with scarlet-colored thread. The same linen puffed from between every slash on the sleeves. A high white collar framed her head before dipping down the front, becoming a bosom-encasing squared neckline.
Bessie could barely remember ordering such a dress. She wasn’t surprised Roberta had seen it packed and sent to Hilde Castle, though. The maid was doing her best to foil every bit of Bessie’s plot. Then again...her maids had made certain she was beautifully gowned and ready for this moment. The gown’s only detraction was the beige-and-blue striped headdress about her head. The veil ended just below her jaw. Bessie almost sent Augusta back for a different color, but she didn’t want to wait. And it might not stay on long, anyway.
Oh!
Her dreams were about to come true!
It was so exciting! And slightly scary.
Bess took a deep breath, turned the door knob, and went in. The legs of Devon’s stool hit the floor with a thud as he stood. Bess had prepared herself to exhibit surprise at his presence in her chamber. It wasn’t difficult. He overpowered everything. He had his hair tied back, his jaw set, and his arms folded, mimicking patience. She could tell it for a lie. She didn’t question how. He seemed to radiate a strange intensity. She shouldn’t blame him for attracting women. He was impossible to miss, difficult to avoid, and hard to forget. He’d changed from his damp clothing. He now wore charcoal-colored tights, the same shade of shirt, and a black silk jupon. That knee-length tunic was ornately embroidered with silver thread into quilt thickness. And it was laced from the hem to neckline with silver cord.
Her hands went to her throat.
“Why...Devon,” she stuttered.
“Where have you been? And dressed in such a fashion?”
He took a step toward her. Bessie backed one. Her answer was tremulous. “This old thing? Why...I’d quite forgotten I had it, actually.”
Devon’s gaze ran her entire frame, from the embroidered cloth shoes peeking from beneath her skirts to the top of her headdress. He didn’t look like he was fooled.
“Answer the other portion of my query, then.”
“What...was it?”
“Your whereabouts. I’ve looked all over Hilde for you and I’m out of patience. I might be able to draw some, if your maid hadn’t finished off the last of it.”
“My maid?”
“The one called Roberta. She fusses too much. I sent her to find more gainful duties, like watching clouds move across the sky. So, answer me. Where have you been?”
He took another step toward her and Bessie backed two this time. She wouldn’t be able to do it again. She’d reached the door, and the handle was digging into her spine.
“You’re frightening me.”
“The day I do that, is the day I see your face. You are not afraid of anything, least of all me. You’re also avoiding answering.”
Bessie watched the silver embroidered crest on his tunic for a long moment. Then, she lifted her head. She itched to lift the span of material covering her face, leap into his arms, and show him exactly where she’d been. And with whom!
No! Wait Bessie.
She wanted to hear his declaration. Needed to. She’d dreamt of it. She knew it would be perfect. Because then, she could speak hers.
“I...I was overseeing the parade grounds,” she finally answered, inventing what sounded like a plausible story.
“We don’t have any parade grounds.”
“That’s exactly what I was seeing to.” Her voice warmed to the fib. “And I think the fields to the south of the castle are perfect.”
“Wheat and barley are growing there. What would you have the ale made from? And what would you use for the bread leavening if you destroy the field?”
“Oh. I suppose we could find a different field...if you have other cleared land?”
“Why? What are you planning?”
“The queen does not support the court, Devon. Surely you noted that. She gives titles to her favorites, grants them rich lands, and gives them the right to tax their towns. In return, she expects to have the court accommodated...usually with little notice. It’s very frugal. Her ministers applaud it, but they’re the only ones. She’s not a welcome sight to any member of the aristocracy. It is quite expensive to put her up. I should know. She uses the Twin Keeps often, remember?”
“The queen moves the court to keep from paying the expense herself?”
“She learned it from her father, King Henry. If the stories are correct, he was much worse. His visits were extremely taxing.”
“So. We are expecting a visit from the queen and her court now? Is that what I am hearing?”
“My missive yesterday contained word that she’s on her way to Stansbury. She may decide to visit Hilde next. That would be disastrous. There is not enough room in the keep. Even if I get every room made habitable and refurbished, there still isn’t enough. I’ve counted, checked, and re-checked. So...I thought if we have a parade ground, there will be plenty of room for the tents. You should be thinking of such things.”
“Why do you suppose I’ve drained my swamp?”
“Oh. That never occurred to—”
Bessie caught her mistake and stopped the words. Every bit of color drained from her face. She didn’t have to see it. She felt it. Devon’s raised eyebrows didn’t help. When she spoke again, she used her calm, collected, cool tone. It was a learned response. And right now, it was the best she could manage. “Did I hear you right? You are draining the swamp?”
“Of course. ’Tis what I’ve been doing all day. Every day. Would you like to see it?”
“Thank you, but no. I’ve had...enough fresh air for one day.” And her legs were still trembling.
“Hmm. Perhaps you know of another pursuit that might grant me a little bit of fresh...air?”
He separated the last word as if it had import. Bessie frowned. She had to find something else to look at. Devon was too close. His proximity unraveled what was left of her composure. She wasn’t getting much sleep. She’d had an emotionally charged morn. And she’d been running what seemed like leagues. She lifted one of her hands and examined the lace at her fingertips.
“Air?” she finally repeated.
“Well. I do hope for a glimpse of you, although Byron told me it shouldn’t be necessary. He said a man can fall in love with a voice, or a touch, or even a scent. Blind folks do it all the time.”
“Your brother is a very skilled poet. He needs an audience. We’ll have to see about that after the masque at Stansbury.”
&
nbsp; “Why is everything hinging on this gala, of a sudden?”
“What makes you think that?”
“Alicia told me last night that everything would be clear after the masque, and that I shouldn’t rush anything.”
“The girl has insight as well as charm and beauty. I’ll be careful with whom I betroth her.”
“So, what’s to be cleared? Will I finally see you? Since you’re intent on emptying the castle of my siblings, it would bode well if I can actually talk to a person, instead of a veil. Do you know why I don’t rip that accursed bit of material from you?”
She shook her head.
“I am trying to regain your trust. Once lost, ’tis a powerfully difficult thing to regain.”
“Why would you...care about my trust?” Her heart was singing with the joy. She was vibrating with it. Now. She was going to hear his declaration!
“Henry took me to task over that very subject just yester-morn. Before I’d even breakfasted.”
“What...did he say?”
“That I am a blind fool. He spoke all about trust and honor and duty. I’m beginning to think James is the only sane one left in my family.”
“Why so?”
“He listens to me, and doesn’t try to twist my words about. He doesn’t upbraid me on my life, or my wife, or the current status of the household, or anything like that. You know...I cannot recall a stranger day. I came to fetch my wife. No one can find her. And all I wanted was a bit of a lesson.”
“Lesson?” She didn’t have to pretend the confusion.
“The girls told me you are teaching them how to read and write. So, I started wondering...is it possible—? Would you consider—?”
“You wish to learn how to read and write?” Bessie asked.
“Aye. I would. So. You think it possible?”
“I think it will prove...rather providential to all concerned, actually.”
“Should we start at the library, then?”
Bess settled her hand atop his. Her hand trembled and her fingers felt ice cold. Clammy. Devon didn’t seem to notice. He smiled down at her and opened the door.
“Wait.”
He stopped.
“The library may not be the best place. Byron and the workmen might be there. Hasn’t this castle a schoolroom of its own?”
