Bessie

by Jackie Ivie

  “You haven’t any idea what you’re looking for, that’s why.”

  “Yes, I do. I want to look innocent yet wicked at the same time. I want him to notice me and be unable to keep away, but afraid to touch me. It shouldn’t be that difficult.”

  “You are describing the dress you designed for the masque.”

  “Goodness! You’re right. I am. I never thought of that one. Do I have another one close to it?”

  “I’d rather know why you’re so insistent on wearing so little, if you’re not seducing him.”

  “I’m not. I already told you. I just want to entice him a little. Make him aware of my intentions.”

  “Oh. He’ll be aware of those, all right.”

  “I want him to know I’ll only be his, if he loves me.”

  “You are going to have your hands full.”

  “He’ll know what you’re up to the moment he sees you without one layer of petticoat on.”

  “What about my yellow one? You didn’t bring it out.”

  “It’s much too costly. The material is worth what we make in a season and you pay well. He’ll spot that immediately, he will.”

  “You two are no help at all!”

  Bess plopped down her bed, looked down at the sheer chemise she was wearing, and blushed. Roberta was right. She was looking for seduction, and she wasn’t even sure what it entailed.

  “The green will work. Look. Now, that it’s without that expensive collar and minus the under-sleeves, it’s quite serviceable. Why, I could even wear it myself.”

  “Where? On your right leg?” Robert asked it.

  Augusta gave her a sidelong glare.

  “That might do. Let me see it.” Bess stood.

  “He’ll spot the slashes. No servant woman shreds her clothing. It’s wasteful.”

  “You’re such a doomsayer, Roberta. I don’t know how she puts up with you. I don’t. Even if he spots them, he’ll think she cut them out a-purpose.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “To show more skin, of course.”

  “Oh, Augusta! That’s absolutely ingenious. I’ll wear it.”

  “As much as I’d argue, I’m too tired. Dressing you in your various costumes takes the breath out of a body. All these gowns I have to re-hang, and for what? You wear nothing more than a chemise and one gown. It’s much too low-cut, my lady. You’ll frighten him.”

  “I’m wearing an apron, remember?”

  “Use one of Augusta’s, then. They’re larger.”

  “My Lymon likes me this size, I’ll have you know. He does not fancy stick-like women.”

  “I don’t wish to hear it. I keep telling you two. Hook me up. Oh! This is perfect. This is exactly how I wanted to look.”

  The fabric barely skimmed her nipples. It created a problem with their sensitivity. Augusta probably guessed it as she fastened the apron. The woman had a barely-there smile hovering about her lips, and more than once she pursed them.

  “I only hope you don’t run across anyone before you reach your man. There’s too many men-folk about this castle to run about dressed in such a fashion. Besides, you might catch a chill. No under-things! I can’t believe what the world’s coming to. I can’t.”

  “It does feel strange…and a bit naughty.”

  Augusta grinned. Roberta shook her head.

  “The poor man. Here. Put a shawl over yourself. A big one.”

  “Wish me luck.” Bessie turned at the door to blow them a kiss.

  ~ ~ ~

  Bess clung to the shadows, using the new tapestries for camouflage. It wasn’t necessary. Sup had been an abbreviated affair, with few attending. Everyone should be in their chambers now, soon to be abed. Devon hadn’t been seen all day. Neither had James. She wondered what could keep them away. She fervently hoped it didn’t have anything to do with her.

  She didn’t have long to wonder.

  The moment she passed the inner gate, she came across James. He was leading the bay-colored stallion in a wide circle. The horse was flecked with foam. James had either taken a dunking recently or was as sweaty as his horse. Devon wasn’t anywhere near. Bessie clung to a shadow and checked. It didn’t work. And she should have waited a bit longer. James spotted her on his next circuit.

  “Good eve. I suppose you’re looking for my brother?” he asked.

  “Have...you seen him?”

  “Of course. I’ve been with him all day. He’s a difficult taskmaster. And a worthy opponent.”

  Bessie gasped. “Opponent? He isn’t hurt, is he?”

  “Do I look like I’ve hurt anyone? I can barely lift my legs! And I still have to finish cooling off my horse.”

  “You received the documents then?”

  “Aye. I did. And he’s a fine animal. He will make me proud on a jousting field some day. Just not today. I think I fell more than I stayed in the saddle.”

  “You’ve been jousting with Devon? That was...foolish. He is the best I’ve ever seen.”

  “You haven’t seen me.”

  “True enough.”

  “You won’t either, if I can’t knock Devon off at least once. I don’t know how he does it. I can only hope to gain the same seat someday.”

  “Why?”

  “I’d like to apply for knighthood. Do you think Her Majesty would notice me? And perhaps allow me into her guard?”

  “I think she’d spot you before you even reached the palace. So would everyone else. You look too much like your brother. A place at court is a certainty.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Is that is what you want?”

  “Does the Baroness of Danford go to court?”

  “I’ve seen her there. Why do you ask?”

  “To listen as you give yourself away, my lady. Don’t bother with denials. I’ve known since last night who you were.”

  “You...know?”

  “I am not a dunce. There was no other explanation. Beautiful redheaded servant women are hard to find. Especially near Hilde. You speak with an elegance no village wench could possess...and I might as well confess. Henry told me. Just after sup. If I’d known before, I would not have tried to make Devon jealous. That was rather stupid. He’s already strong. It’s worse when he is angered. Then, he is unbeatable. That’s why we were jousting. It kept him at arm’s length. I’d have been a-feared to wrestle with him.”

  “Henry told you?”

  “He was trying to stop my mooning over you. He swore me to secrecy. You’ll not hold it against him, will you?”

  James stopped walking his horse at the question. His upraised eyebrows and lowered chin made him look the image of Devon. Bessie darted her glance away for a moment over her silliness. He was still awaiting her reply when she looked back.

  “That is a stupid question for one in my position, wouldn’t you say?”

  “You see? What village wench would say such a thing?”

  “You needn’t wait to visit court for a glimpse of your baroness, James.”

  “Why is that? Has she taken to visiting the local gentry?”

  “The baron and his wife accepted my invitation to the masque. I do not expect her husband, however. His health...may not allow it.”

  James stopped. His horse took a tentative step before stopping, too. James reached an arm to place it atop his steed’s neck. They were going to be a fine team.

  “Bless you, my lady.”

  “I wouldn’t want it on her conscience for anything dishonorable to happen, James.”

  “I am no knave. I’d toss a vicar for his tithe coin before I’d harm a hair on her head! How dare you say such a thing?”

  For a man soaked in sweat and too tired to lift his legs, he looked angry enough to do harm. Bessie looked away for a moment. “Forgive me. I shouldn’t have said that. It isn’t my right to speak such things. Yearning...does strange things, I’m finding.”

  “Aye. That it does.” He moved to the other side of his horse so they could walk in the opposite
direction. “Don’t look so crestfallen. You weren’t entirely wrong. I am capable of what you inferred. I shall just continue it in my dreams. For now.”

  “Have you named your horse yet?”

  “I’ll name him when he earns it.” The horse whinnied and tossed his head.

  “Did he do poorly? Would you like another in his stead?”

  “No and no. I like him fine. Besides, I’m little more than a training partner for Devon, regardless of which horse I ride. It won’t always be thus. I’ll best him yet. He’ll need to be in fairer mood than today, though.”

  “He was not in a fair mood?”

  “Don’t take my word for it. Go. See for yourself. You’ll find Black-Heart at the stables. Not the main ones. He’s in the lower bailey.”

  “Why is he stabling Black-Heart so far?”

  “Offhand, I would say it has something to do with you.”

  “Me?”

  “He intends to be impossible to locate, on the off-chance anyone with red hair is looking for him.”

  “What makes him think I’d go...looking for him?”

  James grinned. “Instinct. You may wish to tread lightly, my lady. He’s heart-sore and confused and a devil in a bout. I wish I’d tossed him today. Just once. Once!”

  “You didn’t tell him...did you?”

  “If he hadn’t been so surly, I might have.”

  “You truly didn’t?”

  “Come now. You are looking at the proof. Would he have trounced me into a mass of weak bones if he wasn’t angry? And maybe...a little jealous? I may not be as good as he is, but I can usually keep a seat. And just so you know, he swore me to secrecy.”

  “That seems to have a different meaning to you Hildebrands,” Bessie commented.

  “Not so.” He put a hand up. “I didn’t say a word about my brother. I merely told you where to find Black-Heart. Yes?”

  “Oh, thank you, James! Thank you.”

  James waved a hand in her direction before returning to walking his horse. Bessie lifted her skirt and apron and started jogging. The lower bailey was farther than she’d planned on walking. If she didn’t hurry, Devon might have finished and she’d lose her chance.

  And her nerve.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  This was extremely foolish. Imprudent. Unwise.

  Bessie almost turned back twice. There were guards milling everywhere. One false step and she’d have been caught. She was thankful no one saw her, and annoyed at the same time. She’d hate to replace any of them, but a bit of training might be in order. No woman should be able to run about the castle grounds at night without a challenge to her passage.

  Bess hugged the shawl to her and ran with her arms crossed before her. If she hadn’t been over Henry’s construction drawings, she wouldn’t know which buildings were the stables. She wondered if James had known that. The lower bailey housed the guards, stable hands, dog handlers, groundskeepers, and any visiting peddlers Hilde might have. The path needed work. She stubbed her toe on a rough patch and hopped for a bit on one leg. She should have worn boots, not cloth slippers.

  Oh. This was ridiculous. The entire affair was.

  She’d almost changed her mind when she finally heard him. She stood at the stable entrance and listened to his whistling. He didn’t sound heart-sore or confused. He actually sounded cheerful. Bessie stood at the entrance to the stables to catch her breath, and wondered why she wasn’t surprised.

  “You’ll be fine, Black-Heart. Think of all the fillies you can introduce yourself to. It’s only for a night or two. Don’t look at me that way.”

  Bess heard the horse’s snort and shook her head. Black-Heart didn’t sound like he was having any of Devon’s explanation. She wasn’t sure she didn’t share the horse’s disgust as she walked past stall after stall of work horses. There didn’t seem any that would catch a randy stallion’s eye.

  “There. You will do. You think this bad, wait until I braid your mane and tail. I understand all the centurions did so.”

  There were two sources of light at the back of the stable. Both torches. Both in sconces on the walls of Black-Heart’s stable. Devon had his back to her as he brushed an already gleaming side. His horse didn’t look near as tired as the bay James had ridden had. Devon didn’t look it, either.

  She couldn’t be certain, however. She was viewing his back. He was wearing an outfit resembling his hunting one. This thigh-grazing jerkin was sleeveless, leaving his arms bare. The leather hugged him, delineating size and power, before it was cinched by a belt. From there it looked fashioned as if to display the narrowness of his hips and length of his legs. He wore thigh boots, and what appeared to be tan chausses.

  Oh! This was so exciting! Bessie stopped for a moment and just watched him. What should she do? Say? She silently slipped the latch on the stall door, pushed it open. Slid inside. Gathered a breath. And greeted him.

  “Good eve, your lordship.”

  Devon squealed, pivoted, dropped the brush, and shoved back from the horse so quickly, he stumbled. Black-Heart didn’t have much reaction, although he turned his head toward her.

  “What...do you want?”

  Devon’s voice had started on a high-pitched note. That was encouraging. His actions were even more so. They helped embolden her. Bessie took a step closer.

  “To see you.”

  Bessie slipped the leather loop back over the peg, shutting the gate. Then, she undid her shawl. This was thrilling! Illicit!

  And scary.

  Her fingers trembled as she pulled the shawl away. Her belly tightened. Her skin rippled with gooseflesh. She tried to catch his eye, but his gaze kept skittering away. He reached the rear of his horse and backed farther as she advanced.

  “How...did you find me?” he asked.

  “I was looking. And your horse is hard to mistake.”

  “You shouldn’t be looking for me.”

  “Why not?”

  It was getting easier to make words. Much easier. Bess reached Black-Heart’s side. Devon started side-stepping his way up the opposite side.

  “Because nothing can come of it.”

  “Surely that’s for me to decide.”

  Bessie tossed her shawl over Black-Heart’s back. It slid off Devon’s cheek. She hadn’t meant to, but it was so perfectly timed and executed, she’d have claimed the maneuver if he asked.

  Devon jumped back as if he’d been slapped. Bessie smiled. She took a step toward Black-Heart’s flank. Devon took a corresponding one forward. She took two sideways, hopping-style steps in the other direction, toward the horse’s neck. Devon backed the opposite direction.

  Bessie was close to laughing at his antics. “Do you wish me to chase you?”

  “What?”

  “You needn’t run. I won’t harm you.”

  “I am...not running.”

  “I don’t think he’s telling the truth. What do you think, Blackie?” Bessie swiveled under the horse’s head, using the halter straps. She could have sworn his horse answered with several head nods.

  “His name is Black-Heart.”

  “I know what you named him. That is too angry for everyday use. Save it for the tourneys.”

  “Who gave you a choice?” Devon scooted around the horse’s rear.

  “No one. My lord...if you are not running, why are you over there, now?”

  “Uh...the gate is on this side.”

  “What do you need a gate for?”

  “Strange you should ask. I am not running.”

  “Prove it. Stand still and let me approach.”

  He swallowed hard. Bess heard and saw it. The horse halter slipped from her fingers. She stepped to the front of his horse.

  “This...is not a good idea.”

  “Why not?” Bessie took a tentative step toward the stall door, paralleling Devon.

  “What do you want?” His voice was even-toned. A bit tremulous. But he hadn’t moved.

  “I heard that I no longer appeal to you.�
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  “Damn that James. He gave me his word.”

  “I didn’t hear it from your brother. You announced as much at your sup. Just last eve. Your servants have ears, too. So...do you?”

  “Do I what?”

  He appeared to be having trouble with his hands. Bessie watched as he ran one up the lacing of his leather doublet and rubbed the other one along a thigh before fitting both of them to his hips. He looked uncomfortable the entire time.

  “No longer find me appealing?”

  Bessie tossed her hair off her shoulder and started untying the apron strings that crossed at her belly. She didn’t take her eyes off him the entire time.

  “I—uh. Must you do this?”

  “Do what?”

  “Whatever you are doing.”

  “Does it bother you?”

  Black-Heart was watching her, as well. The stallion had moved several steps to the side and swiveled his head in order to do so. Bessie unfastened the apron, lifted the neck strap over her head, and dropped it. She stepped over it without looking. She was watching Devon.

  He appeared to be having trouble breathing now. She watched his chest rise and fall with quick heavy movements. His glance flicked from her cleavage, to the horse, to her face, and back to her exposed bosom. For some reason, it felt just like he touched her.

  It didn’t seem possible, but this was even more exciting than she’d imagined!

  “You didn’t answer my question.” She tilted her head to one side as she said it.

  “What...was it?”

  He was making small hissed sounds. His hands weren’t on his hips anymore. They were balled into fists at his side. Bessie knew he was exerting effort on it. His bare arms bulged with tight muscle. She licked her lips. If he didn’t wish women’s adoration, he should wear more.

  “Do you like what you see?” she asked.

  “Oh.”

  He touched his gaze to hers for a moment before lifting it somewhere above her head.

  “Is that a yes?”

  Since he wasn’t watching, Bessie took two steps toward him. She knew he hadn’t heard or suspected it when he dropped his head back down. He jerked back from her.

  “Why don’t you just stand still...so we shall see for ourselves?”

  “See what?”