Fearsome Brides

by Kathryn Le Veque

  It was this traveling party that Courtly was referring to. Standing in the doorway of the lower level of the wing where the bedchambers were, she was wrapped in a woolen coverlet against the morning’s chill. She had nothing else to use against the cold. Her father had awoken her and Isadora just after dawn, telling his daughters that they were returning to their home on the marches that day. Then he had turned and walked away, but the news had Courtly on her feet and running after her father to confront him. Now, the confrontation was here as Kellen turned to answer his daughter’s question.

  “You have not done anything,” he said stiffly. “I am sending you home because I do not believe Oxford is a good place for you. With the fire yesterday, now you have nothing at all by way of possessions, and I do not see Ellice providing anything to you so it is best to send you home. It is safer and better for you there.”

  That wasn’t the truth behind the directive and Courtly knew it. She suspected from the onset what was behind her father’s sudden decision to send her home and she would not tactfully couch her accusation. It came out in force as her father tried to turn away from her.

  “That is not true,” she hissed. “Could this have something to do with Maximus de Shera, Papa?”

  Kellen paused to look at her, eyes narrowing. “I do not know what you mean,” he said, trying to turn away again. “Make sure Isadora is ready to leave within the hour.”

  Courtly bolted out of the doorway and grabbed her father by the arm, stopping him from going any further.

  “We are not going anywhere,” she said. “I knew you were watching Maximus last night when he spoke with me. You were watching him from the moment he entered the hall, weren’t you? From the very moment the man said his first word to me, you were watching him with suspicion. How could you do that, Papa? How could you show such mistrust for the man who saved the lives of your children?”

  Kellen grunted. “The man didn’t talk to the rest of us – only to you.”

  “He was our guest! Was I supposed to ignore him?”

  Kellen yanked his arm away from her grasp. Their first conversation of the day had become very brittle, very quickly, and he was caught off-guard by it. He didn’t like fighting with his precious Courtly and wasn’t very adept in handling his emotions where it pertained to her.

  “I never said this decision had anything to do with Maximus de Shera,” he insisted, although it was weakly done. “Why would you accuse me of such a thing?”

  His denial angered her. “Because it is true!” she fired at him. “You always behave the same way when any man comes within ten feet of me. You think every man in England is out to ravage me. It simply isn’t true!”

  Kellen was trying not to lose ground in this argument. Maximus’ attention towards Courtly had him up all night and by morning he’d made his decision what to do about it. He knew he couldn’t chase a de Shera away as he’d done with other suitors. Therefore, it stood to reason that if he couldn’t send the man away, he needed to send his daughter away where the man could not get to her. Still, he would not admit to her accusation. He didn’t like having his decisions questioned.

  “I have no idea what you mean,” he said, again. “I am sending you back to Trelystan because you and your sister have nothing and your aunt has not yet returned this morning, so it is doubtful you will have anything you need to replace what you lost.”

  Courtly threw up her hands in a gesture of utter frustration. “We can just as easily go into Oxford to purchase items to replace what we lost in the fire,” she pointed out. “You would rather send us home, more than two weeks on the road, with absolutely nothing to our name? We would have to stop somewhere, at some time, to purchase something to tide us over. Why not purchase it here?”

  Kellen’s jaw ticked angrily and he was having a difficult time looking at his daughter. “You will be safer at home,” he said, avoiding her question. “I should not have brought you with me to Oxford. There is too much danger here.”

  Courtly grunted with frustration. “There is no danger here,” she said. “You have made up any danger in your mind. Admit it, Papa – you want to send me home because Maximus de Shera was kind to me. He showed me attention. Every time a man shows me attention, you do your very best to send him away. Now, you are sending me away because you cannot send a de Shera away. Admit it!”

  Kellen growled and turned away from her. “You are mad.”

  Courtly watched him march away. “Mayhap I am,” she called after him, furious. “But I am not going home!”

  With that, she stomped back into the building, slamming the door behind her. When she returned to the small, dark chamber she shared with her sister, Isadora was sitting up in bed, sleepily rubbing her eyes.

  “Why were you shouting?” Isadora wanted to know, yawning. “Why was Papa here?”

  Courtly was hurt, frustrated, and angry. She sat heavily on the end of the bed, near tears. She knew what her father was capable of but this was one suitor she did not wish for him to chase away. Speaking with Maximus the night before, it was as if they were the only two people in the entire hall. Her father had been right. Maximus had only spoken to her for most of the night. He had been attentive, kind, and humorous. It was true that she had done most of the talking, but he had listened most carefully. And when he spoke in that deep, melodious voice, it was enough to send bolts of excitement coursing up her spine. She could have listened to that voice forever.

  But she knew her father had been watching. He’d been watching both of them since the moment they came back from the kitchens. Although Maximus’ brother was able to engage Kellen in conversation, monopolizing the man for the entire evening, it was clear that Kellen had been distracted by the conversation going on between Maximus and his daughter. Courtly had been fully expecting her father to make a comment about it but she certainly hadn’t expected the man to make an attempt to send her home. Well, she wasn’t going no matter what he said.

  “Papa wants to send us back to Trelystan,” she finally said, answering her sister’s question. “I told him we are not going.”

  Isadora appeared puzzled. “Why does he want to send us back?”

  Courtly looked at her sister, then. “Because he wants to send me away from Sir Maximus,” she said. “He did not like the attention the man paid to me last night. We knew this would happen, Issie. It always does.”

  Isadora yawned again although she was becoming more lucid. “I saw Papa,” she said. “He watched you and Sir Maximus all night.”

  Courtly sighed heavily and hung her head. Her frustration and anger was wearing off, being replaced by a powerful sense of disappointment. Not this time, Papa. I will not let you do it this time!

  “Why does he do it, Is?” she sighed. “I did not much care when he chased away my first two suitors, old men who had summoned me because they had heard I was beautiful. I did not even care when he chased away that young knight who had been traveling from Ireland. What was his name? De Royans? And if Papa knew that Kirk St. Héver has tried to show me attention, he would dismiss the man forever. But with Sir Maximus, I do not want to go home and never see him again.”

  Isadora watched her sister’s sad expression and felt very sorry for her, as sorry as a child could feel. She didn’t yet understand the allure of men and of marriage, but someday she would. She didn’t want to face what her sister was facing. Climbing out of bed, she went to her sister, snuggling against her, trying to give the woman some comfort.

  “Papa is afraid,” she said simply. “He is afraid someone will take you away from him.”

  Courtly sighed. “I wish it was that simple,” she said. “It seems as if there is something more than that, something….”

  She was cut off when the door to the chamber suddenly swung open, revealing Ellice in the doorway. Isadora gasped with fright at the unexpected sight of her aunt, who looked damp and disheveled, as if she had been running all night long. Her eyes had an edgy gleam to them. Courtly, however, did nothing mor
e than meet the woman’s gaze. She was in no mood for the woman’s games, now appearing as if Lazarus had just returned from the dead, when she had been missing all night.

  “Greetings, Auntie,” she said without enthusiasm. “We missed you last eve.”

  Ellice eyed her niece. “I was told you cooked the meal,” she said. “Is this true?”

  Courtly looked away. “I had little choice,” she said. “You ran off and took your servants with you, including the cook. We could only find one girl to help. I suppose she was the one who told you that I cooked.”

  Ellice remained in the doorway, the stench of moldering leaves wafting into the room, so much so that Isadora actually put her fingers to her nose. Ellice smelled as terrible as she looked.

  “There were others,” Ellice said vaguely. “I will commend you for doing what needed to be done. I did not know you had such strength in you.”

  It was as close to a compliment as Ellice had ever come, a surprising comment, but Courtly was unimpressed. “It does not matter,” she said. “Papa wants to send us home so you will not have to worry over us any longer. I am sure Papa will leave Kennington, too, so you can return to your normal life without all of us underfoot.”

  Ellice was only interested in a small part of that statement. “Why is he sending you home?”

  Courtly simply shook her head. She had no intention of telling the woman the truth, but Isadora, being unable to keep her mouth shut, spoke.

  “Because Papa does not like that Maximus de Shera paid attention to Courtly,” she told her aunt. “Sir Maximus was our guest last night at the feast. He is the one who helped save us from the fire. Papa wants to send us home so Sir Maximus will forget about my sister.”

  Ellice stared at the girl. At that moment, something shifted in her eyes. A twinkle, a glimmer, perhaps an inkling of remembrance came to the woman’s expression. Her pale, damp face seemed to change also and her cheeks began to grow pink. Flushed, even. Coming into the room, she slammed the door behind her and focused on Courtly.

  “Tell me everything,” she demanded quietly. “What did my brother do?”

  Courtly wasn’t sure why her aunt was asking such questions, questions she surely didn’t want to answer. She glanced at the woman but made no real move to respond.

  “He did not do anything,” she said, looking away. “Papa simply said he wants to send us home.”

  Isadora jumped into the conversation because Courtly didn’t seem apt to tell their aunt what she knew. She didn’t stop to think that it was because Courtly didn’t want the woman to know.

  “Papa does not like it when men pay attention to Courtly,” she said. “He has sent away six suitors already and last night, Sir Maximus was very kind to my sister. Papa does not like that and he wants to send us both home.”

  Ellice digested what Isadora told her. “Did he say anything to your guest? To Sir Maximus?”

  Isadora shook her head. “I do not think so,” he said. “Papa spoke with Sir Maximus’ brother all night long. I do not think he spoke to Sir Maximus at all.”

  “What is this to you?” Courtly asked, interrupting Isadora. Her gaze was both pleading and frustrated upon her aunt. “This is not your business, Auntie. This is between Papa and me. You do not need to know these things. Surely you do not care.”

  Ellice gazed steadily at her niece, her lips twitching with a shade of a snarl. She was very good at snarling when provoked, something that was both intimidating and frightening. But instead of snapping off a bitter retort, she abruptly turned for the door, muttering to herself as she moved.

  “He will not do this again,” she hissed. “Not again. I will not let him do this again.”

  With that, she was gone, leaving Courtly and Isadora looking rather perplexed by her abrupt departure. But the mumbling had Courtly on edge and she stood up, going to the door and watching as her aunt disappeared through the doorway that led out into the ward. She could still hear the woman muttering.

  “What is wrong with Auntie?” Isadora wanted to know.

  Courtly shook her head, puzzled. “I do not know,” she said. “But mayhap I should follow her and find out.”

  Leaving Isadora still upon the bed, Courtly followed her aunt’s trail, pursuing the woman out of the building and into the ward of Kennington. The day was deepening and the sun had risen, casting its golden rays across the land. The mud, which had been so heavy in the early morning, was starting to dry up a little. Smoke, heavy from the cooking fires, blanketed the complex. As Courtly looked around for her aunt, she began to hear yelling. Following the sounds, she came to the northwest corner of the two-storied building, noting her aunt and father several feet away. Ellice was clearly livid as she spoke to her brother.

  “Will you do this again, Kellen?” Ellice was saying. “First with me and now with your own daughter? Will you be the one to drive men away from her so that she grows up embittered and lonely? You cannot do this to her.”

  Kellen’s back was to Courtly as he angrily waved his sister off. “You speak of things long past,” he said. “You are speaking of things that happened twenty years ago.”

  Ellice was nearly shrieking. “Twenty years, aye!” she cried. “But to me, it was yesterday. It was yesterday when you sent my love away and he never came back. Don’t you realize what that did to me and to my life? I had to hear that he married another and I wanted to die from the sorrow I felt. And now you will do the same thing to your own daughter? I cannot allow it. You are a selfish, cruel man to want to keep the womenfolk in your family alone and unattached and utterly dependent upon you. Still, I am dependent upon you and ever will be. I hate you for it!”

  Kellen shook his head, trying to move away from her. “I will not discuss this with you.”

  Ellice followed. “If you do not, I will follow you around and speak of terrible and private things until you listen to me. Do you want your men to hear how you chased off every suitor I ever had until no one came? Do you want them to hear how you controlled me and used money to either reward or punish me, so long as I did what you wanted?”

  Kellen whirled on her, bellowing. “You are chattel,” he roared. “You are my responsibility and I did what I felt best for you. I will do it for my daughters as well and you will not question me, you ungrateful cow.”

  Ellice had that snarling expression upon her lips again as she watched her brother yell at her but, at this point, Courtly stopped listening. She’d heard far too much already. It was shocking to hear how her father had treated his sister, how he had chased away the man she loved. Now, so much was clear as to why Ellice behaved the way she did. If what she said was true, and Kellen’s answers seemed to support it, then Ellice’s manner was a direct result of Kellen’s control over every aspect of her life, even suitors. It was little wonder why Ellice was the way she was. Now, it was all starting to make some sense. And that thought scared Courtly to death.

  I do not want to be like my aunt, she thought to herself as she scurried back for the door that would lead back inside the structure. Is it really true? Did Papa chase off all of Auntie’s marital prospects? But even as she thought it, she knew it was true because her father behaved the same way with her. Old patterns repeating themselves, now with his own daughters. But if Courtly had anything to say about it, the pattern would not be the same. She intended to destroy it for her sake as well as for Isadora’s sake. She couldn’t let the man deliberately turn them into spinsters. The mere thought was sickening.

  As she headed back to the house and to her sister, she heard commotion at the gate but she didn’t pay any attention. Soldiers were calling to one another and somewhere in the middle of it she heard St. Héver’s distinctive bellow. But she entered the building after that and heard no more, moving into the small bedchamber where Isadora was pulling on her stockings and shoes. The girl looked up from her right foot when her sister entered the room.

  “Where did you go?” Isadora asked. “What is Auntie doing?”

  Cou
rtly was lost in thought, mulling over what she had just heard and the implications of it. She looked at Isadora, shock and confusion on her face.

  “She is talking to Papa,” she said. “Oh, Issie, you would not believe what they are speaking of. Auntie said… she said that Papa chased away all of her suitors and that is why she is so unhappy and nasty. She said she is lonely and bitter and that Papa is the cause.”

  Isadora’s brow furrowed. “Papa chased men away from her, too?”

  Courtly nodded. “That is what she said,” she replied. “He is doing the same thing to me and will do the same thing to you. I do not want to end up like Auntie, old and alone and mean.”

  Isadora was still a bit too young to fully grasp what Courtly was saying. Suitors and men had no real meaning in her world. But she knew that someday, they would mean a great deal.

  “What will you do?” she asked, concerned.

  Courtly shook her head, trying not to become despondent. “I do not know yet,” she said, running her hand over her hair, which was mussed from sleep and also from the fact that she had no comb. She began to run her fingers through it, trying to smooth it down. “But I know that I will not become a spinster. Why does he do it, Is? Why does he chase men away? He knows that I want to marry someday. Why is no man good enough?”

  Isadora didn’t have an answer for her. She put her other shoe on and stood up, going to her sister and running her hands over Courtly’s hair. She liked brushing her sister’s hair, and braiding it, so she took over the duties as her sister stewed about their father’s predilection towards running off suitors. It was of much greater concern to Courtly than to Isadora, especially since there was now a knight that Courtly was interested in. She could sense her sister’s sadness and disappointment.

  They fell silent as Courtly brooded and Isadora brushed her sister’s hair with her fingers. She was able to smooth it enough so that it looked moderately combed and then she braided it into an elaborate braid. Having nothing to secure it with, she ended up tearing a strip of linen off the end of the coverlet and using the piece to tie off her sister’s hair. Having no clean clothing, soap or water to wash with, it was the best they could do in order to groom themselves. As Isadora finished with the braid, there was a knock on the chamber door.