Two adjoining rooms opened up, rooms that had been set up with several beds made from wood and rope. There were mattresses on them, stuffed with what turned out to be old rushes. There were a few men there, claiming their beds, and the knight moved into the chamber, scoping out the rooms before taking the bed tucked back into the corner immediately by the door that opened into the entry. It was out of the way, back in an alcove, and he stashed his saddlebags under the bed, feeling some relief that, for the first time in months, he wouldn’t be sleeping in a doorway or a church. A real bed in a real home was most welcome.
As much as he wanted to collapse upon the bed, he was here for a purpose. He kept recalling what the two young women had said yesterday about this feast – how it was for their sister’s day of birth but also how many young men would be in attendance.
Looking around at the two rooms that had been set aside in anticipation of an influx of young men, he could see that he would have to be cleverer than the rest if he was going to have any chance of making his mark on the heiress before someone else did. That meant he would have to find out about her, quickly… and who would know more about the heiress than her sisters?
The kerchief he’d come to return was still in his hand. Looking down at it, an idea occurred to him. Perhaps he could endear himself to the sisters as a chivalrous man who returned their property, but in the meanwhile, he might also impress upon them that somehow, someway, a dream had told him to come to this house.
Wasn’t that what the sisters were going to do to the one that did not want to marry? He’d heard them whispering about his ornate sword… something about speaking to the heiress about it when she was asleep. Aye, he’d heard everything they’d said and, tonight, he was going to seize that opportunity. He was coming to believe, without question, that God had placed an opportunity before him that he must not surrender. Whether he became the husband of the heiress by hook or crook wasn’t the issue; God had put him in this direction and he was going to claim the prize any way he could.
Pulling forth his saddlebags once more, he asked a hovering servant for a bowl of hot water. Flopping the bags onto his borrowed bed, he opened them and pulled out a very small piece of soap, well-used, and a razor-sharp dagger. If he was going to proceed with the prospect before him, then he had better shave the forest off of his face so the woman could get a good look at him. He’d been told, more than once, that he was handsome. Maybe that comeliness would do him some good tonight.
He had an heiress to trap.
{
“Lady Rose?” A servant knocked on the chamber door, pushing it open slightly to admit herself. “Lady Rose, I come bearing a message from a knight who has asked for you. He says he has something that belongs to you.”
Rose and Lily were fully dressed at this point and had been watching the guests arrive through the window that overlooked the courtyard. Rose was dressed in an orange-colored silk with dark green sleeves and dark rabbit’s fur lining the neck while Lily was clad in red.
Both girls had their hair dressed and re-dressed by their maids until their hairstyles were a work of art. Lily was fair and had her hair in braids while Rose, her hair darker like Holly’s, had her tresses woven with strands of gold. They were primped and ready to devour the single young men in attendance, which was why the servant’s message had both ladies bounding away from the windows and towards the chamber door.
“A knight?” Rose was very interested in what the servant had to say. “Who is it? Did he give his name?”
“Sir Rennington of Ashbourne, my lady, from the ancient Saxon House of Osmaston,” the servant said, enunciating each word with grandeur. “He says that he will only take a moment of your time.”
Rose squealed at the name. “Sir Rennington of Ashbourne!” she gasped. “It sounds so… so powerful and important. Is he handsome?”
The female servant nodded. “Verily, my lady,” she said, giving the girl a wink. “Why do you think I came with his message?”
Rose was already flying out of the room, yanking the servant along, as Lily scurried out behind her. “Wait!” Lily cried. “Wait for me!”
Rose heard her sister’s plea but she wasn’t waiting. A handsome knight was asking for her? She couldn’t move fast enough. The servant, however, was tugging on her, trying to slow her down.
“Gracefully, my lady, gracefully,” the servant said as they reached the top of the stairs. She put her hands on Rose so the woman wouldn’t charge down the steps and either break her neck or embarrass herself. She pleaded for calm. “He is standing at the base of the stairs dressed in dark clothing. He looks a bit bedraggled but I suppose that is to be understood considering the weather. Be polite but do not be eager. That is the surest way to scare off a man.”
Rose listened seriously to the old servant who had practically raised her. “I promise, I will not be eager,” she said, but by the tone of her voice it was obvious that she was already making herself out to be a liar. “I will be graceful.”
The servant doubted that but she stood aside, making the way clear to the stairs. “Then proceed, my lady.”
Rose did, with Lily clutching at her. Together, they made their way down the stairs that were near the entry, hearing the people down below and smelling the scents of the season. Fresh rushes and mistletoe were strung about everywhere and, in particular, around the doorways. Mistletoe, full of white berries, hung heavily from the top of every doorframe and the girls giggled eagerly, hoping that they would receive a berry upon this night. They both knew the old kissing bough legend, very well.
In exchange for a kiss, one berry must be removed from the mistletoe.
With thoughts of the kissing bough on their eager young minds, Rose was the first to spy a big man in somewhat worn clothing standing near the doorway to the room that had been designated for bachelor knights. Coming off the stairs, she nearly tripped Lily in her haste as the two of them moved towards the man.
He was tall and very broad shouldered with a head of dark blonde hair. He had a very handsome face, clean-shaven, and as Rose approached with her sister hanging on her arm, she could see that the man had green eyes. They were very nice eyes, she thought, and she smiled expectantly when he caught sight of her. She didn’t recognize him in the least but that didn’t matter; he had asked for her.
A man had asked for her!
“My lord?” she greeted boldly. “I am Rose St. Maur and this is my younger sister, Lily. I understand that you were asking for me?”
The knight gazed steadily at the two young women, who were looking at him with an annoyingly hungry expression. He couldn’t say that he recognized them as being the women in the church who had dropped the kerchief, but he did recognize Rose’s voice. She had been the one doing most of the talking. He bowed formally.
“Sir Rennington of Ashbourne at your service, my lady,” he said. “Thank you for agreeing to see me. I know we have not been formally introduced, so I do apologize for my impudence in sending for you. But I have something I believe belongs to you and I wanted to return it.”
Rose’s eyes were glittering. “I am not sure what you could possibly have of mine, but you are very gallant, sirrah, in returning it to me.”
Rennington smiled, a devastating gesture that was known to weaken the knees of many a maiden. “It is my pleasure, my lady,” he said. “Mayhap… mayhap you will allow me to tell you how I came to acquire it?”
He was very polite and Rose nodded eagerly, indicating a small alcove near the entry door. It was usually meant for the door servants, as there was a small hearth there, but at the moment there were no servants in it. She began to walk towards it, backwards to make sure the knight was following.
“Please,” she said. “Let us sit by the fire and become acquainted. Lily, dear, did you have something to attend to?”
It was an invitation for Lily to make herself scarce but Lily was oblivious to the suggestion. “Nay,” she said, smiling at Rennington as he politely walked behind her.
“I have nothing to attend to. Where did you come from, Sir Rennington? Have you traveled far?”
Questions that Rose wanted to ask him and as Lily drew near, she pinched the girl on the back of the arm. Lily yelped and put a hand to the offended area, smiling weakly when the knight looked at her with concern.
“I have traveled quite far, my lady,” he said, not oblivious to the contention between the sisters. “But first, wouldn’t you like to see what I have that belongs to you?”
Embarrassed that they’d all but forgotten his very reason for contacting them, the young women nodded. “Of course,” Rose said, perching herself on the stone bench near the hearth. “I will thank you for returning it even though I do not know what it is that you have brought back to me.”
She was chattering nervously, which Rennington always saw as a weakness in women. He knew he could manipulate a weak woman. He pulled forth the silk kerchief from his sleeve, extending it to Rose.
“Your kerchief, I believe,” he said. “It was most strange; I was asleep in the cathedral in Derby and when I awoke, your kerchief was by my feet. I took it as a sign from God and asked the priest if he knew the crest so lovingly embroidered upon the silk. He recognized your family immediately.”
Rose looked at the kerchief in surprise before looking to Lily. “This is yours.”
It was almost an accusation. Lily, thrilled that the knight in question had brought back her kerchief, snatched it from her sister’s grip. “My thanks, sirrah,” she said, beaming at him. “I am so pleased that so honest a knight found my kerchief. You are to be commended.”
Rennington smiled politely at the young woman, no more than sixteen years of age. “It was my pleasure, my lady,” he said. “And it was truly no bother at all. Forgive me if I am too bold, but I felt compelled to return it. As I said, when I awoke at the church, it was at my feet, which was very strange because I had only just dreamt of a lady and I could not quite see her face. It was snowing and we were in the forest, covered in white. She had a kerchief covering her face and when I tried to speak to her in my dream, she dropped the kerchief and ran. As you can understand, awaking to the sight of a kerchief at my feet was surely a sign that my dream was mayhap not such a dream, after all.”
Rose and Lily were listening intently to his fabricated story. “Indeed,” Rose said, hoping she might have been the woman he was speaking of. “Did the woman in your dreams speak to you? Did she have a name?”
Rennington could hear the hope in her voice and he was oh-so-crafty in his reply. “She did speak, but it was a whisper, like a breath of air that quickly vanished,” he said. “I am not certain that I heard her correctly but I received the impression that she was named after the flora and the fauna. I could see mistletoe and holly in my dreams, and trees covered in white. I do not suppose her name was Mistletoe… but mayhap it could have been Holly?”
Rose’s face fell. “Holly?” she repeated, great disappointment in her tone. “Our eldest sister’s name is Holly.”
Rennington feigned surprise, being very calculated in what he said next. “Holly,” he repeated. “It is an unusual name.”
Rose was very close to sulking now. “Her name is Hollen, after the bush with the red berries that grows this time of year,” she said. “Mother named us all after flowers or bushes, and Holly was named after the bush that grew on her day of birth.”
Rennington pretended to be interested in what she was telling him. “Then, surely, my dream must have been divine providence,” he said. “Now I am convinced more than ever that God has led me to her. Mayhap you will be kind enough to introduce me to your sister to see if she is, indeed, the lady I have dreamt of. I would be most grateful.”
Rose and Lily were thoroughly disheartened with the turn of the conversation. Instead of the knight dreaming of either one of them, he dreamt of a woman who had no interest in men. Rose thought that she should point that out.
“You would be wasting your time,” she said sullenly. “Even if you did dream of her, my sister has no interest in marrying.”
Rennington pretended he hadn’t heard that before. In fact, this was where he was going to be particularly adept at manipulating the conversation. “Is that so?” he asked. “’Tis a pity. If she was the woman of my dreams and I could convince her to marry me, then I am sure all of the eligible young men at this feast would fall at your feet. I would imagine it is quite rude for your older sister not to marry. That does not make the way easy for either of you to receive male interest.”
Rose’s eyes widened, thinking that he had read her mind, and Lily began nodding eagerly. “Papa says that Holly must marry before Rose or I can entertain suitors,” she said. “It is rude of her not to want to marry. Rose and I will not be made spinsters just because she will not marry.”
Rennington nodded. “I do not blame you in the least,” he said sympathetically. “Has she given a reason why she does not wish to marry?”
Rose nodded, increasingly disinterested in the conversation now that the subject was her eldest sister. “She was betrothed once but he died on crusade,” she said. “She received a missive this past summer telling her that he had died two year ago. Now, she has refused to entertain another betrothal and my father is furious about it.”
He died on crusade. Rennington mulled those words over for a moment. So did my best friend and thousands of other men, he thought. It made him feel a little less enthused given that now he was dealing with a dead crusader’s betrothed, but he’d come this far. He had to see it through.
“Your father has no sons?” he asked.
Both girls shook their heads. “Nay,” Rose said.
Rennington nodded knowingly. “Then your sister must wed because she is your father’s heiress,” he said. “If you will introduce me to her, I will do my best to change her mind. If I did, indeed, dream about her, then mayhap we are destined to be together. Will you at least let me try?”
It sounded reasonable enough and, suddenly, they’d found an ally in Sir Rennington of Ashbourne. Perhaps the situation wasn’t exactly as they had hoped, that he’d have interest in one of them, but his having interest in Holly would clear the way for them to receive suitors. It was a very good idea, actually, and Rose and Lily were in agreement.
“Aye,” Rose said. “When she comes to the party, I will introduce you.”
“She is not at her own party?”
Rose and Lily shook their heads, glancing at each other hesitantly. “Do not tell anyone, Sir Rennington,” Rose said. “Holly is… difficult these days. She does not want to come to her party because Papa is having the party so many eligible young men can see Holly and, hopefully, ask for her hand.”
He already knew that, too. “Please,” he said. “In private, you may call me Ren. Everyone does. I have not heard anyone call me Rennington in years. So she does not wish to come to her own party? I cannot say that I blame her. If the woman does not wish to be wed, then she certain does not want to parade out for all to see.”
He was endearing himself to them even more by asking them to call him Ren. It was a friendly gesture, one that Rose and Lily soaked up. They were honored. “That is what Holly said,” Lily insisted. “She feels that Papa wants to show her like a prize mare and she is very reluctant. So she sits in her chamber and she sews or draws or plays with her box of memories. When she is not doing that, she is out managing the estate. She is a very good chatelaine.”
Rennington was listening with great interest. They spoke of that memory box again, the one he’d heard them mention in the church. He could tell that Rose was jealous of her elder sister, and embittered, while Lily was torn between siding with Rose and sympathy for Holly.
He didn’t care much for the dynamics between the women; all he cared about was finally being introduced to the heiress before anyone else was. This entire feast was full of predators, each one of them stalking the woman who would inherit everything. He had to be the dominant predator.
“I would be honored
to be introduced to her,” he repeated, thinking that he was starting to sound too eager so he softened his statement a bit. “The sooner your sister is focused on one man, the sooner the two of you can have the focus of many men. Mayhap, you should encourage your sister to come to her own feast. I will be here, waiting.”
It was a command cushioned as a gentle request. Rose and Lily were receptive. They liked the idea of having the attention of several men if Holly was, indeed, occupied with Rennington. Lily stood up first and pulled Rose to her feet. The ladies were preparing to go and do as Rennington had asked when Lily caught sight of something on the stairs.
“Oh!” she gasped. “Look! There she is!”
Rose and Rennington turned to see what had her so excited. Indeed, descending the stairs in a gown of deep royal blue was a lush, slender woman with dark hair and skin like cream. Her beauty was beyond compare and as she moved, she radiated a grace and dignity that was difficult to describe. Rennington couldn’t take his eyes off her as Lily continued to point.
“That is Holly!” she said. “I shall go and bring her to you!”
Rennington couldn’t even respond; the first glimpse of Lady Holly St. Maur had him positively smitten. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. Was it possible that this was the angel he was planning to seduce? As he struggled to find his tongue, Lily started to move towards her sister. But Holly, who had come to the last step and gazed into the room beyond, to the great chamber where guests were mingling, suddenly came off the stairs and darted to her right, disappearing down a corridor and out of sight.
“Wait,” Rennington gently grasped Lily by the elbow before the girl could go in pursuit. “Let me retrieve her. You both should mingle with your father’s guests and not chase after your sister. I shall bring her back.”
Lily looked at him, confused. “I thought you wanted us to introduce you?”
Under The Kissing Bough: 15 Romantic Holiday Novellas Page 19
