Isadora scooted over to the panel and opened it. One of their aunt’s servants was standing in the darkened corridor outside, an older woman, and she looked directly at Courtly.
“M’lady,” she said. “Lady Ellice asks you to come to the ward.”
Courtly sighed heavily. She was so depressed that she didn’t even question the servant’s instructions. She simply stood up and left the room, following the woman out into the ward.
Courtly could feel the chill as she stepped outside but she had left the coverlet wrap back in the bedchamber and she pondered returning for it. However, it occurred to her that there were a great many unfamiliar people in the ward and her focus was diverted to the crowd. It took her a moment to realize that there were soldiers in the bailey bearing colors of black and yellow. She had noticed those colors on one of the knights who had accompanied Sir Maximus on the previous evening and her heart suddenly leapt into her throat. She could hardly breathe. Was it possible that Sir Maximus had returned? Suddenly giddy with excitement, yet with some confusion, she made her way towards the group.
As she drew closer, she could see that her father was standing next to a carriage, speaking with a beautiful, young woman inside it. Her aunt was standing several feet away, watching the entire circumstance suspiciously, but Courtly headed in the woman’s direction. It was her aunt who had sent for her, after all. She wanted to know why.
“Auntie?” she said as she approached. “What is happening?”
Ellice, hearing her niece’s voice, whirled around and reached out, grasping the woman by the wrist and pulling her close. That was an unusual move for Ellice who usually kept everyone at arm’s length. Courtly was hit with the smell of rotten, moldering leaves as she drew near her aunt. The woman smelled of compost.
“Your Sir Maximus has returned and he has brought reinforcements,” Ellice hissed at her. “See the woman in the carriage? That is the Earl of Coventry’s wife. She is asking for you.”
Shocked, Courtly looked at the carriage. It was very fine, painted in colors of yellow and black, and the woman inside was quite elegant and lovely. She had very dark hair and a porcelain-like face, now speaking very politely to Kellen. Courtly couldn’t hear the words but she could see that the lady was smiling at Kellen, obviously engaging him in pleasant conversation. Courtly had no idea what to make of the situation.
“But why is she here?” Courtly asked. “Where is Sir Maximus?”
Ellice shook her head. “I do not know him on sight but I heard the lady mention him,” she said quietly. Then, she gave Courtly a shove towards the Coventry carriage. “Go, now. Show yourself. The countess wishes to speak with you!”
Courtly stumbled as her aunt pushed but she caught herself and moved towards the carriage as instructed. She was fixed on the lovely woman speaking to her father, quite curious about her appearance here at Kennington. But she was eager to see Sir Maximus again and her eyes darted about, trying to find him in the group of Coventry men, but they were all dressed in armor and tunics that made them all look alike.
Her hunt for Sir Maximus abruptly ended when she finally locked eyes with the Countess of Coventry and Kellen, seeing the countess’ shift in focus, turned to see that his daughter was nearly standing next to him.
Startled by Courtly’s unexpected appearance, Kellen’s initial reaction was one of anger. He almost ordered her away but realized that he could not, not in front of all of these people. In truth, he had been preparing to tell Lady de Shera that his daughter was unavailable when Courtly appeared. Therefore, he did the only thing he could do. He hastened to make introductions.
“Lady de Shera,” he said, sounding displeased. “This is my daughter, Lady Courtly. It is she who you have been inquiring about.”
Kellen would look back on that moment as the day that changed his life forever.
CHAPTER SIX
In the muddy, cold, and bright bailey of Kennington, Jeniver studied Courtly intently, very curious about the woman who had captured Maximus’ heart.
Lady Courtly was about the same size and shape as she was, with bright, blue eyes and long, dusky lashes. Her hair was a lovely shade of blond that had been swept into a braid, complimenting her sweet, oval face. In truth, Jeniver was not disappointed in what she saw. She could easily understand Maximus’ attraction to the luminous lady.
“Greetings, my lady,” Jeniver said. “I am honored to meet you. As I was telling your father, my husband’s brother, Maximus, told us of your harrowing adventure yesterday and also of the wonderful feast he attended last night. He is most impressed with your father’s hospitality and also by your culinary skills.”
The countess had a sweet, honeyed voice, and Courtly curtsied smoothly. “I am the one who is honored, Lady de Shera,” she said. “Sir Maximus surely saved my life and the life of my sister. Providing him with a meal was the least we could do to thank him for his efforts.”
Jeniver laughed softly. “And he was very thankful for it,” she said. “We are staying at The One-Eyed Raven in town and the food there has not been particularly good, unfortunately. I think he was very grateful for an excellent meal by your hand.”
Courtly smiled because Jeniver was. Already, the woman had a way of making her feel at ease. She didn’t act like any countess Courtly had ever met. Lady de Shera was friendly and warm, and given that Courtly spent nearly all of her time with either her father or sister, she didn’t have much opportunity to make new friends. Immediately, she felt drawn to her.
“As I said, we were honored to provide it, my lady,” she said. “I am very glad Sir Maximus enjoyed it.”
Jeniver nodded. “Indeed,” she said. “Wherever did you learn to cook?”
“I fostered for a time at Prudhoe Castle, my lady. Lady d’Umfraville learned the culinary arts in France and taught us.”
Jeniver watched Courtly as she spoke. She was well-spoken and polite. She could see how the young woman had entranced Maximus. She knew for a fact that her brother-in-law was behind her, grouped among the de Shera men, waiting very impatiently for Jeniver to make her move and ask for Lady Courtly’s company on a shopping excursion. The time for small talk and meaningless chatter was over. It was time to move to the point of their visit before the situation became awkward.
“Lady d’Umfraville taught you very well,” Jeniver said. Then, she eyed both Kellen and Courtly as she spoke. “In fact, that is why I have come. Lord de Lara, I am alone in Oxford save my husband and his brothers, with no lady to attend me. It has come to my attention that your daughter is cultured and knowledgeable, and I wonder if I could beg you to allow me to take Lady Courtly with me into town. I must do some shopping and I very much need a lady by my side. For my position, after all, it is unseemly that I do not have any ladies-in-waiting. I pray upon your good graces that you will allow me the company of your daughter for the duration of my stay in Oxford.”
Kellen looked at Jeniver, shocked and speechless by the request. He knew the request was one of honor. For the wife of an earl to ask for the service of a daughter was honorable, indeed, but Kellen wasn’t sure he could agree for two very good reasons – the first being that he did not like his children out of his sight where he could not keep a watchful eye over them. That was the main reason he had recalled Courtly from Prudhoe Castle, in fact. True, he wanted her home, but it was mostly so he could watch over her and keep his daughters under the same roof. His roof.
But the second reason, of course, was that Maximus de Shera was Lady de Shera’s brother-in law. If Courtly was around Lady de Shera, then Maximus would be there, too. Nay, he could not allow that, not in the least. He struggled to refuse without insulting the countess.
“That is a most gracious offer, Lady de Shera,” he said, stumbling. “But… you see, I have a younger daughter and Courtly must tend her. I surely cannot let her go or I will have no one to tend my younger child.”
“I will look after her.”
They all turned around to see Ellice standing
a few feet away. It was she who had offered. Kellen scowled at his sister.
“You?” he asked. “You? You do not know anything about tending children, Ellice.”
Ellice’s expression upon her brother was one of abject hatred. “And that is your fault, is it not?” she volleyed, with Lady de Shera listening. As Kellen struggled not to explode at her, Ellice walked up beside her niece and looked to Lady de Shera. “My niece would be an excellent companion, my lady. There is no reason why you cannot take her right now, in fact. I will look after the younger girl.”
Kellen was beside himself with outrage but he dare not vent his anger in front of the countess. As it was, he was straddling a very fine line of courtesy versus insult. He knew Lady de Shera was watching him, awaiting his answer, but he was having a very difficult time giving one.
“This is all so sudden,” he finally said, backing away from the carriage so he would have more room to think and to breathe. He couldn’t do either with Lady de Shera’s attention on him. “My daughters’ stay in Oxford has not been a pleasant one. You heard of the fire yesterday, no doubt, and all of their possessions were lost. I was preparing to send them both back to Trelystan Castle, this morning in fact. They will be much safer at home.”
He was speaking quickly, as if he were scrambling for a reason to deny Lady de Shera’s request, and Jeniver was coming to sense something more than mere reluctance in the man. Her request for the company of Lady Courtly had rattled him deeply and she didn’t understand why. Surely any father would have been happy for his daughter to be taken into the house of a countess as her lady, but it was clear de Lara didn’t think that way. There was something very odd with the man, indeed.
“You do not have to decide at this moment, Lord de Lara,” she said, trying to salvage the situation somehow, “but at least let me take her to town with me and shop. I require her company and her opinion on many things. Will you please do this for me? My husband will be very pleased if you do.”
She purposely brought up her husband to force de Lara’s hand. Gallus de Shera was not only the Earl of Coventry, but he was also the right hand of Simon de Montfort. To have connections to such a man during this dark and turbulent time would be a prideful thing, indeed. Jeniver was also, not so subtly, telling Lord de Lara that Gallus would be quite displeased if the man denied her request. Therefore, Kellen had no choice and he knew it. His jaw began to tick, struggling not to become angry over the situation and over Lady de Shera’s control. He didn’t like a woman, any woman, to have control over his decisions.
“Very well,” he said, smiling thinly. “You may take her to shop but I would have her returned home before nightfall. I will insist, my lady.”
Courtly, who had been watching the exchange carefully, was so relieved and excited when he gave permission that she nearly shouted, but she managed to keep control. If her father saw that she was too happy, he might do his best to go back on his word. Therefore, she remained demure and polite as a de Shera knight opened the door to the cab and Courtly quickly climbed in. She looked to see if it was Maximus who had opened the door but it was not. It was a very young knight with brilliant, blue eyes.
The carriage pulled away without another word to Kellen, as if they were anxious to get away from him and remove themselves from Kennington’s bailey. The de Lara escort formed loose ranks and followed the carriage, thundering out of the ward. As the big, iron gates lurched closed, Kellen turned to his sister.
Gazing into his hard eyes, it was the first time Ellice had every truly been afraid of her brother.
Oxford
Not a word was spoken between Jeniver and Courtly until they were well away from Kennington. In fact, the carriage was awkwardly quiet for several long minutes. Courtly would not speak until the countess did and Jeniver wasn’t sure how she was going to start the conversation. They were strangers, after all, and Jeniver had essentially abducted the woman from her father. She had given the man no choice, but she wasn’t sorry in the least. As she observed Courtly as the woman watched the passing landscape through the cab window, she was coming to think there was something rather downcast about the woman. She was both concerned and intrigued.
“It is very kind of you to accompany me, my lady,” Jeniver finally said, smiling when Courtly looked at her. “It looks as if the weather will hold. It should be a fine day.”
Courtly nodded. “Indeed, Lady de Shera,” she said, returning her gaze to the carriage window. “I… I would like to thank you for inviting me to attend you. I have never attended a fine lady before. Well, except for Lady d’Umfraville, but she had several ladies-in-waiting and a half-dozen wards. I was one of many.”
Jeniver grinned. “It sounds as if she had an entire court at her disposal.”
Courtly laughed softly. “She did,” she agreed. “And she behaved much like a queen would. She was gracious and generous, but she was not afraid to take a switch to you if the situation warranted.”
Now it was Jeniver’s turn to laugh. “God’s Bones,” she said. “That is positively tyrannical.”
Courtly shook her head. “Not really,” she said. “She was a very kind woman. Having lost my mother at a young age, I appreciated her guidance.”
Jeniver’s smile faded. “Then you and I have a great deal in common,” she said. “I lost my mother at a young age, also.”
It was common ground that immediately bonded them. “Do you remember your mother, my lady?” Courtly asked. “I was fostering when my mother died. My memories of her are distant, almost as if I have dreamt her.”
Jeniver understood. “I have very little memory of my mother,” she said. “I was very young when she passed away. It was only my father and me for many years until I met my husband.”
Courtly was feeling comfortable with the conversation and with Lady de Shera. It was very rare when she had the opportunity to converse with women and, as she’d felt almost immediately upon meeting Lady de Shera, she was drawn to the woman’s warmth and kindness.
“We have more in common than you realize, my lady,” she said. “It has only been my father and my younger sister all of these years.”
Jeniver cocked her head curiously. “What of the woman who offered to tend your sister?” she asked. “Who was that?”
Courtly lifted her eyebrows in an ironic gesture that only she understood. “That is my father’s sister, Lady Ellice,” she said. “My aunt and my father do not get on well. They fight constantly. She did not have a hand in raising me.”
There was something both ironic and bitter in that statement but Jeniver ignored it without making it seem too obvious that she was. “I am sure your father did a fine job on his own,” she said. Then, she shifted the subject a bit. “Your name is very pretty and very unusual. Is it a family name?”
Courtly grinned. “It is not,” she said. “My mother named me Courtly Love because she was a woman who was quite enamored with all things romantic and chivalrous. I cannot tell you how much I detest my own name, however. I had always wished for something elegant and lovely, like Elizabeth or Eleanor.”
Jeniver shook her head. “Pah,” she scoffed softly. “Boring names, both of those. Your name is unique and lovely. It is very regal, I think.”
Courtly shrugged, flattered. “My mother chose the name because she said that every woman should know courtly love and thought that the name would bring me great love in my life.”
Jeniver giggled softly. “Has it?”
Courtly immediately thought of Maximus and her cheeks flushed unexpectedly. Startled at her reaction, she looked at her lap, trying not to appear too embarrassed.
“Not yet,” she admitted. “But I hope it will, my lady.”
Jeniver watched the woman, her head lowered with her pink cheeks, and she could see that perhaps the lady was as taken with Maximus as Maximus was with her. The red cheeks, the sudden inclination to demure… it was just a feeling she had. And it gave her great hope for Maximus’ sake.
“Surely you
have more than one prospect, my lady,” she said leading.
Courtly shrugged. “I have had suitors,” she said, fighting off the giddy flush that thoughts of Maximus provoked. “Unfortunately, my father is not keen to me having a suitor. He has chased them all away. But I hope that someday there will be a man he will be unable to chase away.”
Jeniver studied her carefully as she delivered her reply. “Do you have anyone particular in mind?”
“Mayhap.”
“Have you considered Maximus?”
Courtly’s head shot up, her eyes wide. “Why… why would you ask, my lady?” she asked, almost fearfully. “I have never… that is to say, Sir Maximus saved my life yesterday and I have the utmost respect and gratitude towards him. I have never indicated anything else.”
Jeniver could see, quite clearly, that she had struck a nerve. Courtly had the same look that Maximus did when the idea of attraction between the two had been broached. She put up her hand to ease the woman.
“I know you have not been improper with him,” she assured her. “That is not what I mean. What I meant was… if Maximus were to call upon you, then I doubt your father would be able to chase him away. No one chases Maximus de Shera away, in any case. He is a fine, noble, and compassionate man, and he is the greatest warrior in England. Aside from my husband, that is. Maximus will make some fortunate woman an excellent husband.”
Courtly was back to looking at her lap as Lady de Shera’s words rolled over and over in her mind. Her fingers were fidgeting but beyond her slender fingers and chapped skin, she could see the dusty, dark green dress that she had been wearing since yesterday. It didn’t smell too much like smoke any longer but it was still rather dirty and worn. She sighed faintly, brushing at the dress.
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