“Nonsense.” Étienne waved his hand through the air dismissively. “He is just as healthy as you and me. The only thing wrong with him is a negligent father and an overprotective, doting sister who thinks she is the boy’s mother.”
“If you don’t mind me saying, mayhap you should concentrate on the reason you are truly here,” said Brother Paul. “If I’m not mistaken, you promised your brother that you would find out information about Lady Philippa to determine if she is a good match for him or not.”
“To be honest, I don’t think anyone in their right mind would be a good match for either of them,” said Étienne, keeping his focus on the baron. “My brother is much too arrogant and Lady Pippa is too controlling for a woman.”
“Didn’t you say she told you not to call her Lady Pippa?”
“Oui. And that is why I am going to do it.”
“Lord Étienne, for the past few months, you have been acting very unruly for a novice. And you haven’t even been paying attention at mass since we got to Grimsthorpe Castle. You have more or less ignored your own training to be a monk.”
“Brother Paul, this is not about my training. It is about helping the boy. Now, if you see Lady Martha, try to distract her and keep her far away from the baron. I have a plan that I’m sure will get the baron to agree to let me mentor the boy after all.”
“What’s that?” asked the monk.
“Just leave it to me,” he answered with a smile, making a beeline over to the baron.
“My lord,” he said, bowing and greeting the baron respectfully. The baron held a tankard of ale in his hand and was speaking to one of his knights.
“What do you want?” he growled.
“May I request an audience with you in private, my lord?”
“If this has to do with your silly notion of teaching my weakling son to fight, then the answer is no.”
“On the contrary, it is about your daughter.”
“My daughter?” He dismissed the knight and sat down on a bench, motioning for a serving wench to give Étienne a tankard of ale.
“Merci,” said Étienne with a nod of his head to the serving girl.
“She’s a servant and you are a lord,” growled the baron. “There is no need to thank her.”
“I suppose it’s just a habit of mine . . . being a novice of the monastery and all.” He sat down next to the baron.
“Hrmph.” The baron blew air from his mouth. “You certainly don’t look like a monk in training anymore. Especially with a weapon strapped to your side. If you have the skills you claim to possess, then I am surprised you are training to be a monk at all. It is a waste as far as I’m concerned. A good fighting man is hard to come by.” He lifted his tankard and drank down some ale. “And I thought all the sons of Earl de Beynac were known to be strong warriors.”
“Then you have heard of us, Monsieur?” Étienne hoped his reputation had not preceded him,
“Heard of you? Of course I have. Or did you forget I have secured a betrothal between your brother and my daughter?”
“Aye, of course. And that is what I wanted to speak to you about.”
The man slowly lowered his tankard. “What is it?” he asked, seeming leery of him. “Your father didn’t send you here to break the betrothal, did he? After all, we have an agreement and have made an alliance.”
“Nay, of course not,” Étienne said to put his mind at ease. “My father would never think of such a thing. However . . . I am not so sure about my brother, Giles.”
“What are you saying? He can’t break the betrothal. What kind of a dishonorable man would do such a thing?”
“May I speak freely, my lord?”
“Go on.”
“I admit, I was, indeed, sent here by my brother, Giles, because he is not sure your daughter is – shall I say, a proper lady that he wants to marry.”
“What?” The baron’s eyes opened wide and then narrowed to slits. “Who is calling Philippa improper?”
“If I’m not mistaken, you did, my lord, just the other day. I heard it for myself.”
“Well, mayhap I did and, perhaps, she isn’t quite the shining image of a proper lady, but what does it matter? Your brother will put her in her place.”
Étienne let out a sigh and shook his head. “That is my point, my lord. My brother thinks Lady Philippa is a little . . . addled.”
“Addled?” He banged his cup down on the table. “Where would he get an idea like that?”
“It’s only idle gossip, I am sure.”
“Gossip that has traveled all the way across the channel?”
“Oui. There has been talk of your daughter, even in France.”
“Nay,” he spat. “I knew her matchmaking and hosting so many wild gatherings would come back to bite me. I thought by betrothing her to someone far away, there would be no chance for her reputation to be known.”
The baron’s words made Étienne feel sorry for Pippa. This situation was not unlike his own. It didn’t feel good for him and certainly must feel worse for a lady. “I can help with that, my lord.”
“You can?” He looked up in question. “What can you do?”
“I not only have the skills of a trained warrior, but also know how to approach a person in a manner that will help them to want to change.”
“I suppose they taught you that at the monastery.” He nodded as if in deep thought.
“I can make sure that my brother will agree to marry your daughter.”
“How?”
“If you let me mentor your son in sword fighting and weaponry, I will also mentor your daughter in how to be a proper lady.”
“What? That is absurd! What do you know about training a woman to be a proper lady?”
“I suppose I don’t know everything there is to know, but I can certainly keep her distracted so she’ll stop matchmaking villagers and planning so many gatherings that are talked about all the way across the channel.”
“You could do that?” He looked at Étienne from the corners of his eyes, considering his proposal.
“Oui. But it would have to be in secret, of course. If Lady Philippa knew we agreed to this, she wouldn’t be happy and certainly would not be willing to change.”
“Nay, she wouldn’t.” The baron took another swig of ale, looking over the rim in thought. “Do you think you can get her to act accordingly in time for the arrival of your brother? I don’t want him to reject the betrothal. That wouldn’t be good for my reputation.”
“Of course it wouldn’t. And, oui, I believe if you left me free rein to do with your daughter what I will, I can get her to come around in time for the wedding.”
“Free rein? To do what you will?”
“No need to worry,” said Étienne with a chuckle. “I assure you that your daughter’s virtue is safe with me. Remember, I’m a novice, someday soon to become a monk.”
“I don’t know.” The baron looked at Étienne’s apparel and cringed. “You certainly don’t look or act like a monk.”
“Appearances can be deceiving.” He smiled. “Besides, I thought dressed like this it would be easier to train the boy. After all, I can hardly fight in a long robe.”
“I suppose not.” The baron thought about it for a moment and finally nodded. “I will agree to our arrangement,” said the man.
“Très bien. Then I can train Frank to someday be a knight?”
“Frank?” The baron’s head snapped up in surprise. “I haven’t heard anyone call my son by that name.”
“It’s what the boy asked me to call him. I’m surprised you didn’t know he prefers to be called Frank. After all, you are the boy’s father.”
“You can train him in weaponry, but don’t go putting any absurd ideas in his head about someday becoming a knight. As much as I’d like it, I am sure that will never happen.”
The baron fidgeted, seeming to become unsettled. Étienne decided he’d better hurriedly close the deal before the man changed his mind.
“To
proper ladies and strong sons,” said Étienne, lifting up his tankard in a toast.
The baron hesitated, and then slowly raised his cup as well. “Why not? If you can change my daughter as well as my son, it’ll be a miracle. And if anyone can bring about a miracle, I suppose it will be a monk.” He toasted to the agreement, making Étienne smile. Perhaps by doing this, Étienne’s life would change as well.
* * *
Pippa hurried down the stairs, her long cloak dragging over the steps as she made her way to the first floor. Her maidservant hurried after her with Pippa’s gloves in her hand. Marie was dressed for the outdoors as well and would accompany Pippa on her trip to town.
“My lady, don’t forget your gloves. It is cold outside and the ride to town will be chilly.”
Pippa got to the bottom of the stairs and stopped just outside the great hall. “Of course,” she said. “Where is my head?” She turned to take the gloves from Marie. When she did, she spied something from the corner of her eyes that interested her. Inside the great hall were Étienne and her father, raising their tankards in a toast.
“What do suppose that is all about?” she asked Marie, pulling on one glove at a time.
“What do you mean, my lady?” Marie’s gaze followed hers. “Oh, Lord Étienne is talking with your father, how nice. They seem to be smiling and happy.”
“Aye, they do.” She finished donning her gloves and secured the brooch holding closed her cape. “Odd, since I am sure my father wanted naught to do with Étienne mentoring my brother.”
“It might have naught to do with your brother at all.”
“If not, what would they have to celebrate?”
“I am sure I don’t know, my lady.”
“I’m going to find out.” Pippa burst into the great hall, causing many of the knights and servants to look up as she entered.
“My lady, I am not sure this is a good idea,” said Marie, running behind her. “After all, you and your father just had a spat. Mayhap, you should give it some time before you talk with him again.”
“Nonsense. This is my home and I need to know everything that goes on here.”
As she approached the men, her father looked up and stopped laughing. Étienne turned around to see her and jumped up off the bench to greet her.
“My lady,” he said with a bow of his head. “Bonjour.”
“Father, what were you two talking about?” Pippa demanded to know, ignoring Étienne altogether.
“Philippa, is that any way to behave around our guest?” The baron got to his feet as well. “You haven’t even acknowledged Brother Étienne.”
“Lord Étienne,” Étienne corrected him. “I won’t be considered a brother until I have been accepted into the Order.”
Pippa didn’t know if that was true, but neither did she care right now. It irked her to have to acknowledge the man but she would do it if it got her what she wanted. And right now, she wanted to know what was going on between Étienne and her father.
“Good Morning, Lord Étienne,” she said with a slight nod of her head and forcing a smile. “I didn’t expect to find you here celebrating with my father so early in the morning.”
“You should know by now that Brother Paul has trained me to rise before the sun. I’ve already been to prayer sessions in the chapel and even mass.”
Once again, she thought he was lying, but didn’t think it wise to challenge him with her father standing right there. Besides, what did it matter? “I saw you raising your cups in a toast,” she said, looking back and forth between the men.
“Aye, so we were,” said her father.
“What were you celebrating?” When she asked, she saw Étienne and her father’s eyes meet as if they had a secret. They hesitated for a moment before Étienne answered.
“I’m happy to tell you that your father has agreed to let me mentor your brother in weapon training.”
“What?” This surprised as well as shocked her. “Father? Did you really agree to this even though you have disputed it for years?”
“It is what Frank wants,” said her father, surprising her once again.
“Frank? You have never called him that in your life.”
“Things are changing, Daughter. And with Étienne here,” he looked over to Étienne and smiled, “I think there will be lots of changes from now on.”
She was about to ask him what he meant when Étienne interrupted.
“I see you are dressed for the outdoors. Were you going somewhere, my lady?”
“Aye, where are you headed, Philippa?” asked her father.
Pippa wet her dry lips with her tongue, not sure what to say. She had planned on sneaking off to town and being back before her father noticed. Now she would have to tell him. She raised her chin and answered boldly, “I am off on an errand to town.”
“To town? In this weather?” asked the baron. “Whatever for? And why aren’t your servants attending to your chores for you?”
“I need to visit the cordwainer,” she told him. “I like to ride in the cool, crisp air and wanted to clear my head.”
“Shoes?” asked her father. “You don’t need another pair of shoes. That’s nonsense, Philippa. If you want to feel cool air and clear your head, take a walk up to the battlements instead. Nay, you are not going anywhere. You’ll stay right here.”
Pippa’s eyes shot over to Marie who shifted from foot to foot. The whole reason why Pippa was going to the cordwainer’s shop had nothing to do with shoes. It was because both Marie and the cordwainer, Auden, were about the same age and had both lost their spouses. She decided they would be a good couple. Marie had mentioned on more than one occasion that she thought the man was handsome. She had purposely been visiting the shop a lot lately, trying to matchmake the two. Pippa had to visit there today because she planned on suggesting that the two of them spend time together. Rosa, the baker’s widow, had been eying the man lately and there was no way Pippa was going to let that strumpet get her claws into such a nice man like Auden. It was crucial she visit town today so she had to find a way for her father to agree to it.
“I have to go,” she told her father. “I . . . have a pair of shoes he repaired for me and I need them for the St. Valentine’s Day dance I am planning.”
Once again, Étienne and her father exchanged glances that could only mean there was something between them that they didn’t want her to know.
“Cannot your maidservant pick them up for you? Or perhaps one of the pages?” asked Étienne.
“Aye,” agreed her father, lifting his hand in the air and looking across the room. “I’ll summon a page to do your errands.”
“Nay!” She shot forward and grabbed her father’s wrist, earning her a scowl from him in return. “Please, Father.” She slowly let go of his arm and stepped back. “I need to try on the shoes to make sure they fit properly. I will never be able to dance if they don’t.”
“I don’t like you going out in this weather without an escort. Neither do I want you planning a silly St. Valentine’s Day celebration. There is no need for it. It’ll only be a large expense for me.”
“But St. Valentine’s Day is the day of love, Father. It is the most important holiday of the year. I won’t miss it.”
“Most important? That is blasphemy,” snarled her father. “Think of what you are saying.”
“It’s also the celebration of a saint,” she added, hoping that bringing religion into this would help ease the situation.
“My lord, if I may?” Étienne stepped forward.
“What is it, de Beynac?” asked her father.
“I wanted to say that, perhaps, it would be a good idea for your daughter to hold the St. Valentine’s Day gathering. That way, when my brother arrives to marry her, he will be able to join in the festive celebration.”
“Marry me?” Pippa shook her head. “Nay. Father, I already told you that I will not marry the man.”
“We’ll see about that,” said the baron into his tankard
as he raised it to his mouth.
“What is going on here?” she asked suspiciously. Again, the two men looked at each other quickly.
“I can escort Lady Philippa to town,” offered Étienne.
“Nay,” said Pippa. This was a horrible idea because then he would know that she was off to matchmake and he would tell her father.
“Splendid,” agreed her father.
“No need for your handmaid to have to venture out in the snow since I will be with you,” added Étienne.
“I will not be alone with you when I barely know you,” she spat. “Father, if he is going to escort me to town, I insist my handmaid go along as well.”
“So be it,” said the baron, spying Lady Martha and Wilbur entering the great hall. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have more important matters to attend to.”
“Shall we, my lady?” Étienne got off the bench, donned his cloak and held out his arm.
Pippa turned away from him in a huff and stormed across the room. “Come, Marie. We have important matters to attend to as well.”
Chapter 6
Étienne didn’t understand why Pippa was so adamant about getting her shoes when it was snowing and could have waited until the weather let up. That is, he didn’t understand until they arrived at the cordwainer’s shop.
“Allow me, my lady,” he said, holding out his hand to help Pippa off the horse. She begrudgingly reached out and put her arms on his shoulders. He gently placed his hands around her waist, liking the feel of her body, and placed her on the ground. “You’re shivering,” he said, noticing her body trembling.
She looked up at him with wide hazel eyes that looked so innocent and gentle that it made him want to run his hand down the soft, smooth skin of her cheek. A stray golden curl of hair fell across her eye and he couldn’t stop himself from brushing it back behind her ear. It felt soft and silky. Peeking up at him from under her hood, she looked nothing like the brash, outspoken woman who stuck her nose in others’ business and loved to have a good time.
Matchmade Hearts: Holiday Knights Series Book 2 - Valentine’s Day Page 5
