Clearly taken aback at the request, Edward’s eyes opened wide. “Well, my lord, I would certainly be willing to give my advice.” There was a long moment of silence as the wheels seemed to turn in Edward’s mind. “Mayhap at the evening meal I could share some of my thoughts on the matter.”
“That would be most generous of you, Edward. I look forward to it.” Lord Blackwell nodded in dismissal at the younger knight. “Until then.”
Edward bowed and left the keep, clearly disgruntled that his barbs at Royce had been redirected.
Royce smiled at his departing back. “Will he be suddenly ill prior to the meal?”
Lord Blackwell chuckled and placed his hand on Royce’s shoulder. “Would you care to place a small wager on it?”
***
Alyna watched Royce follow her grandfather into the keep, noting his impossibly broad shoulders, how his light brown hair was streaked by the sun.
And drew a deep breath to slow her pounding heart.
She rubbed the underside of her chin on Nicholas’s soft hair in an effort to erase the sensation Royce had caused with the briefest touch.
Sir Edward came out of the keep, and she realized how very different the two men made her feel. Why was it that Royce drew her, whereas both Lord Tegmont and Edward repelled her? All three men were handsome and strong. Each cut a fine figure and was powerful in his own way. But there, the similarities ended.
She knew not what attracted her to Royce, only that her heart beat quicker when he was near. She was drawn to him in a way she’d never before experienced.
Sir Edward’s attempts to undermine Royce upon their arrival played through her mind. Should she tell Royce what the knight had said? Would Royce believe her? Obviously, he had some confidence in Sir Edward or he wouldn’t have left her in his care for the remainder of her journey.
Well, ’twas not for her to judge if Royce believed her or not. She’d tell him at the first opportunity and let him decide for himself what he believed. If that presented her with a chance to speak alone with him, it was merely an added benefit.
Nicholas wiggled in her arms. “Let’s go play, Mama.”
“Certainly not. You scared me when you ran off. You need to listen better.”
“Mama.” There was a distinct whine in her son’s voice. “The black horse will hurt me,” Nicholas told her with a solemn face, his lower lip protruding, his blue eyes more serious than they should’ve been.
“When? What black horse?”
“Not yet, Mama.”
“When will this horse hurt you?”
A shrug was her only answer. Uncertainty filled her as she thought about his words. “You stay far away from all of the horses. Do you understand? And you’re remaining inside until you can remember to come when I call.”
Alyna made it to her chamber without encountering Royce or her grandfather.
Enid shared Alyna’s fright when told of the near miss. She lifted Nicholas into her arms. “Do you have any idea of the danger you were in?”
Amused that Nicholas had to endure two scoldings, Alyna couldn’t help but smile, which earned her a stern look as well.
“This is no laughing matter, my lady. He could have been killed and I’d thank you to remember that.”
Sometimes, Enid acted more like her mother than her maid. Removing the smile, she reassured the older woman. “Nay, Enid, ’tis nothing to laugh at.” She turned to Nicholas with a more solemn expression and pointed her finger at him. “You need to heed my call the next time.”
He shook his finger back at her, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief, but he agreed. “Aye, Mama.”
Alyna stopped, disgusted with herself. How often had her father jabbed his finger at her? She instructed Enid to keep Nicholas in the chamber until it was time for the evening meal then left the pair to seek her grandfather.
Lady Florence stood at the top of the stairs with her back to Alyna. Somehow, Alyna couldn’t think of the woman as an aunt. Alyna hesitated, hoping she would proceed down the steps so a confrontation could be avoided, but Florence remained there, immobile. Curiosity drew Alyna closer. As she neared Florence, she could hear the murmur of voices coming from below.
Lady Florence was eavesdropping.
Amazed at her audacity, Alyna donned an innocent expression. “Is something wrong, Lady Florence?”
So startled, the woman nearly lost her footing. Alyna reached out and grabbed her arm to prevent her from tumbling down the stairs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Gasping, Florence jerked her arm out of Alyna’s hand. “Why you–you had no right to skulk up on me like that!” The intensity of the snarl on Florence’s face surprised Alyna.
“Why are you standing here?”
“I owe you no explanation.” With a huff, Florence flicked her skirts and moved to the door of another chamber beyond Alyna’s.
Good riddance Alyna thought. Curious as to whom Florence had listened to, Alyna continued down the stairs.
Her grandfather and Royce stood near the entrance of the keep, discussing the progress of the men’s training. Why Florence would find that of interest, she couldn’t imagine.
Royce halted in mid-sentence when he caught sight of her on the stairs, his gaze following her as she descended. She forced herself to concentrate on the stairs so she didn’t trip. He was an intense man, and when that intensity was focused on her, it was all she could do to remember to breathe.
Lord Blackwell turned to see what held Royce’s attention. “Good day to you, Alyna.”
“And to you, Grandfather.” She felt a flush rise up her cheeks as Royce continued to watch her, those inscrutable gray eyes pale and clear.
“Royce and I were discussing some training. Have a cup of ale with me, Royce. Alyna, will you join us?”
Before Alyna could respond, Royce cleared his throat and at last pulled his gaze from her. “My lord, I had best go check on the men. We will talk more this evening.”
“Until then,” Lord Blackwell agreed. “I’m anxious to see who will win our wager.”
Royce smiled. “As am I.” He bowed to both of them, his eyes lingering on Alyna in a way that set her stomach fluttering before he turned and left.
Lord Blackwell turned to Alyna. “How do you fare, Alyna? Do you have everything you need?”
She drew a deep breath to slow her racing heart. Surely there would be a better opportunity to speak with Royce about Edward. With luck, it would be after she found her tongue. “Aye. My thanks, Grandfather. My chamber is very comfortable.”
“You mean now that it’s clean?”
Alyna paused, uncertain what her response should be. She had no wish to insult him.
He chuckled. “You can be honest with me, Alyna. In all things, you can be honest.”
Emboldened by his comment, she asked what was uppermost in her mind. “I had the...opportunity to meet Lady Florence earlier.”
Her grandfather’s eyes narrowed. “Oh?”
“Aye. She says she is Grandmother’s younger sister.”
Lord Blackwell placed her arm on his and guided her into the hall. “Your great grandfather sired her late in life with his second wife,” he replied, his voice low. “Your grandmother left to marry me before Florence was born.”
“Why is she here?”
“She was here when we returned from France. I don’t think she has anywhere else to go. She has no husband and no other relatives, at least none that I’m aware of.” He looked at Alyna, as though to gauge his words. “Florence is a rather difficult person. The few times your grandmother and I saw her while she was growing up, ’twas always the same. She seems to feel entitled to the things she does not have yet unable to appreciate the things she does.”
A warm feeling filled Alyna at the realization that he trusted her enough to share this information. “I have to say I have yet to see her smile. She doesn’t seem to be a happy person.”
“True.”
“She men
tioned that she’s acting as steward temporarily until you find someone more suitable for the position,” Alyna continued, determined to guide the direction of the conversation.
Lord Blackwell sat down at the head table. He poured them each a cup of ale from a pitcher and handed one to Alyna. “I fear Florence overstepped her bounds when she came here. The steward I left in charge wanted nothing to do with her, so he left.” He shook his head. “I can’t convince him to come back, at least not as long as Florence is here, and I can’t very well ask her to leave without a reason.”
“Perhaps I could be of service in some way.”
He raised a brow in question, his interest obviously caught. “What did you have in mind?”
Alyna took a sip of the ale, partly to quench her thirst, and partly to gain courage. Somehow, she felt the duration of her stay hung on these next few moments. If there was anything she could do for her grandfather, any way to prove her worthiness of his affection, this was it. “I have some experience in the duties of steward. Perhaps I could lend a hand in those areas where Lady Florence is...” Alyna bit her tongue. Incompetent was such a strong word. “Where assistance is needed.”
“Nay. That won’t be necessary.”
Stunned at his refusal when Florence seemed to do so little, Alyna couldn’t help but feel he rejected her right along with her offer of help. “As you wish.”
He covered her hand with his. “I did not bring you here to put you to work.”
Relief filled Alyna. Many times over the past few years she had feared the only reason her father kept her with him was for just that purpose. “I would be happy to help.” Somehow she had to convince him to let her do something to prove her worth. “Truly.”
“Well.” He rubbed his finger above his lip. “I suppose it wouldn’t cause any harm for you to provide assistance where you see fit.”
“I thought I might have a few words with the cook and see what can be done there first.”
He squeezed her hand, his amber eyes warm with what she hoped was affection. “I look forward to enjoying the results of your efforts.”
Determined to make improvements on the meal that evening, Alyna took her leave and went directly to the kitchen. She hated to admit it, but she wanted to impress Royce as desperately as she wanted to impress her grandfather. She shook her head, annoyed with herself. Had the worry over her future caused her to latch on to the first solid and dependable person she’d met?
She pushed aside the uncomfortable thought and entered the kitchen. A young boy stood near the hearth turning the spit of roasting hens. He returned her smile with a shy one of his own, his face reddened with the effort. She introduced herself to the cook, and after a few minutes of conversation, found out the woman had known Alyna’s mother well.
Preparations had already begun for meat tiles and stuffed pheasant. Before long, Alyna had charmed her into trying a few new seasonings. With only a small selection of dried herbs to choose from, Alyna suggested using thyme and rosemary on the dishes and discussed other possibilities as well.
The tantalizing aroma of freshly baked bread scented the air. Alyna took the cook’s young helper to cut some of the parsley she’d spotted in the garden earlier. They returned with enough to season the vegetables to be served that night.
With a promise to visit again on the morrow, Alyna moved into the great hall, still empty except for a few servants setting up the long trestle tables and benches for the evening meal. A few words had some of the maids clearing the old rushes from the floor and going in search of fresh ones. She had the other servants line up the tables at an angle to the head table so all who dined there could see her grandfather. Clean tablecloths were found. A more thorough cleaning of the hall would have to wait until the next day. She and Enid had their work cut out for them.
Alyna returned to her chamber to make herself presentable but found the room empty. Her kirtle was dirty from her activities so she searched inside the chest Enid and Charles had brought. Her thoughts drifted back to the scare with Nicholas. The incident would give her nightmares for weeks. Thank goodness Royce had been able to control his mount and avoid trampling her son.
What had Nicholas meant when he spoke of a black horse hurting him? Was it merely something from a child’s overactive imagination or an event he knew of because of his second sight?
She longed to have someone to discuss his budding gift with, for what else could it be? Someone who understood and could help make sense of the things Nicholas said or did. There was no point in discussing it with Enid. The maid refused to believe in Myranda’s abilities, let alone a young boy just past four years of age having that kind of gift.
The chest revealed little that caught her fancy. The garments all held the familiar scent of lavender, but nothing there could compete with what Florence had worn earlier in the day. She wondered what Royce thought of Lady Florence.
Just thinking of him made her catch her breath. Lord, but he was handsome. Not just his face was pleasant to look upon. Her cheeks warmed at the thought of his broad shoulders and narrow hips. Something about him stirred her in a way she hadn’t known she was capable of feeling.
She shed her gown but kept on her linen shift as she pondered her meager choices.
Enid entered the room. “There you are, my lady. I’d wondered where you’d gone. I’ve left Nicholas with Charles for a time with stern instructions to keep an eye on him.” She watched Alyna sort through the chest. “What is it you hope to find in there?”
Somewhat embarrassed at being caught in her indecision, Alyna merely shrugged. “There is another lady here–my great-aunt. She dresses quite nicely, and, by way of comparison, I didn’t want to look as though I’m better suited to scrub the floor.”
Enid smiled and shook her head. “Should you be dressed in sack cloth, you wouldn’t look like that.” She reached into the chest. “How about the plum-colored bliaut, my lady? We could use the cream riband to lace it.”
A short time later, Alyna pushed her feet into her soft leather shoes, and smoothed her hands down her gown, pleased with her appearance. The gown clung tightly to her slim figure and the color was quite complimentary. Enid placed a circlet with a sheer veil over her hair. Alyna felt better, knowing she looked her best.
“You look lovely, my lady.”
“Why, thank you, Enid. Will you be sitting by Charles this eve?”
The maid gave her a suspicious glare. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m just surprised how well the two of you traveled together without shredding each other to pieces,” she said, delighted when Enid’s cheeks flushed. “You haven’t said an unkind thing about Charles since you arrived.”
“Well, of late, he seems to have found some intelligent and rather interesting things to say.” Enid took a thorough survey of Alyna, then pinched her cheeks to give them some color, adjusted her gown one last time, and turned her toward the door. “Be off with you.”
Alyna entered the hall with resolve. Somehow, before the night was over, she would find a way to speak with Royce and tell him of Edward’s comments. She would remain calm and not act like the simpleton she always felt like when he was near.
Her breath caught in her throat when she saw him. She’d never seen him without his mail–and she had to say he looked even more dangerous without it. Amazingly, his shoulders and chest looked no narrower covered by the burgundy tunic he wore than they had when covered with mail. The deep color set off the steel gray of his eyes and the light streaks in his hair.
The only thing marring his appearance was the hand of Lady Florence, which rested possessively on his arm. Unless Alyna was mistaken, the older woman flirted with Royce. Lord Blackwell sat on Royce’s other side, sipping from a cup as he looked about the hall.
Just as Alyna had feared, Florence had outdone herself with her attire. She favored the color gold this time, though Alyna wasn’t certain why as it didn’t flatter her fair coloring. There was gold in her hair net and matching c
irclet, her bliaut, and gold trim on her shoes. She tipped her head back and laughed at something Royce said, as though he was the cleverest person she’d ever set eyes upon.
As for Royce, he gave her the barest of nods when she moved past him. Florence spared her a glance, but only to look with disdain at Alyna’s gown. Uncomfortable, Alyna moved toward the opposite side of her grandfather and hoped for a warmer welcome.
He greeted her with a sparkle in his eyes as he rose to take her hand. “You look lovely, my dear. That color suits you.”
“Thank you, Grandfather.” She shared a smile with him. The more time she spent in his company, the more her affection for him grew. Her mother had been very lucky to have a father such as he.
As they exchanged pleasantries, servants made their way into the hall with trenchers of food. They spread the trenchers among the tables, each dish containing enough food for two and some, four, people. There were herbed vegetables, miniature pastries filled with cod liver, broth with bacon and sops, and meat tile. The latter was prepared as Alyna had instructed, consisting of simmered pieces of chicken served in a spiced sauce of almonds, toasted bread, and garnished with more almonds. Wine flowed freely.
Hugh sat at one of the lower tables and sent her a grin and a wink, brightening her mood. Edward wasn’t present, but she caught sight of Matthew and gave him a smile that he returned with a shy one of his own.
Her grandfather spoke with her between his conversations with Royce, but Royce spoke only to him or to Florence, never to Alyna. The rest of his attention was absorbed by the food placed before him. What had changed from earlier when they had spoken? Had she caused him some offense? She told herself it mattered not, but the evening carried a shadow because of his odd behavior.
Still, the meal was different than the ones at home. At Montvue, her time was spent aiding the servants. Her father never discussed anything with her. He merely barked out orders for her to do his bidding. But here, she enjoyed chatting with her grandfather who seemed truly interested in her opinion on a variety of topics.
“Alyna, the taste of the meat tiles is remarkable,” Blackwell commented. “Even these vegetables are...I can’t quite think of the word.”
A VOW TO KEEP (The Vengeance Trilogy) Page 9
