Jessamy nodded thoughtfully. «That will be Alyce and Marie. Goodness, I've hardly seen those children since their mother died. Where are they, Anjelica?»
«There, m'lady, under the lilac tree with Lady Jesiana».
Affecting only casual interest, Jessamy turned her gaze in the direction indicated by her maid, far across the lawns, to where three young girls were chattering with a pair of handsome, somewhat older squires, all of them seated on the shady grass and with the girls' bright skirts spread like blossoms. The youngest of the girls was her own Jesiana, the nine-year-old, dark curls loosely tied back by a yellow ribbon.
The other two were clearly older, but not by much. One was fair and delicate of feature, golden hair tumbling around her shoulders and bound across the brow with a rose-pink ribbon-fillet that matched her simple gown; the other, clad in tender leaf-green, had hair more resembling bronze. Seeing them there, all full of hope and youthful innocence, Jessamy was reminded of a similar pair of girls in a similar season, that dreadful summer of her own passing into adolescence, when her father had died and everything in her life had changed.
That long-ago summer had borne Jessamy betimes into marriage and motherhood — estates that had come somewhat later to that other girl, the heiress Stevana de Corwyn: eventually abducted and married by force to the man now standing with their son and heir, young Ahern. (The boy was, in fact, a twin to young Marie — Stevana's second set, though Alyce's twin very sadly had died shortly after birth.) In the early years, when both their families were young, Jessamy had visited her friend as often as she could, and had brushed the minds of all three Corwyn children. The two women had remained friends until the day Stevana died, miscarried of yet another set of twins that would have been more boys for Corwyn's line-but sadly, not meant to be.
Jessamy had seen Stevana's surviving children but rarely in the years since then, but she was heartened to see that they appeared to be growing into handsome young adults — and now, apparently, were being prepared to enter the adult roles to which their birth entitled them.
Thoughtful, Jessamy handed young Krispin back into the care of Seffira and his nurse and rose, smoothing her skirts as she made her way toward the lilac tree. The squires, who were wearing the livery of Lendour, scrambled to their feet at her approach, as did the girls, and Jesiana darted into her mother's embrace with a glad cry.
«Maman! We saw your ship this morning, from the tower atop the house!»
«Yes, well, there was very little wind», Jessamy replied, kissing her daughter's cheek and nodding acknowledgment to the older girls' curtsies and the bows of the two squires. «Young sirs, should you not be about your duties?» she said mildly to the latter.
The pair took their leave with alacrity, to the obvious regret of the girls, and Jessamy opened her arms to Stevana's daughters.
«Dear Alyce, and darling Marie, come and give your Tante Jessamy a kiss», she said. «Do you not remember me? Your mother and I were of an age with you when first we met. She was like the sister I had never had».
Relieved recognition lit both young faces, and the girls crowded eagerly into her embrace.
«Of course we remember!» said the shorter of the two, the one with bronze-colored hair, as she bestowed a kiss on Jessamy's cheek.
The blonder one simply laid her head briefly against Jessamy's shoulder and breathed a sigh of contentment.
«My, but you have turned into quite the beauties», Jessamy said, drawing back to look at them. «Alyce, you are the image of your dear mother. And Marie… lovely. Simply lovely. Stevana would be so proud of you».
Alyce nodded her blond head. «Would that Papa agreed. He intends to marry again. Unfortunately, his intended bride does not like the idea of grown stepdaughters», she said bleakly.
«She's very vain», Marie chimed in, with a wrinkle of her tip-tilted nose. «We don't much like her».
«I see», Jessamy said, containing a smile of gentle amusement at Alyce's description of the two of them as «grown». But she could sympathize with the girls' recognition of their incipient stepmother's resentment. «Jesiana, why don't you go and see if your sister and Mistress Anjelica need help with Krispin?»
«Yes, Maman».
As the younger girl dipped her a curtsy and headed off at her mother's bidding, Jessamy drew Stevana's daughters farther under the shade of the lilac tree and sank down, patting the cool grass beside her.
«Sit down, my dears. I understand that you are to be fostered at court».
Marie's rosy lips parted in amazement.
«How did you know? You've only just got here».
«It often happens», Jessamy replied, not unkindly. «Do keep your voice down, child. Your father's new wife will wish to establish her own children in their father's affections. It is the natural wish of any mother».
«She shall not have our brother's title for her own sons, no matter what she does!» Alyce said in a fierce whisper.
«Of course she shall not», Jessamy agreed, patting her hand. «Your brother shall be Duke of Corwyn by right of your dear mother. Nothing can change that. In due time, he also shall be Earl of Lendour, for that is the right of your father's eldest son. And if, by chance, dear Ahern were to form an affection for a half-brother by this new marriage of your father's, it would be his right to decline the secondary title in favor of his brother — but that would be his decision, and no other's».
«As for you» — she drew the two of them into her embrace again — «your father does you a great service as well, by fostering you to court, for brilliant marriages can be made for the sisters of the next Duke of Corwyn».
«Aye, to some whiskered old graybeard who only wants our dowries», Marie pouted, as Alyce made a moue. «I want to marry for love!»
Jessamy regarded them with sympathy, but it would do no good to pretend that their station did not carry duties and responsibilities.
«Of course you do», she agreed. «But being who and what you are, that may not be possible». She cast a quick glance around to be certain she could not be overheard. «Even were you merely human, your ducal bloodline would demand that you marry to a certain station — that, else take the veil — and that you may not do until and unless your brother produces an heir».
Alyce lowered her gaze, shaking her head bleakly. «It matters little. I have no call to the religious life — and Marie certainly does not».
«I did not suppose that either of you did, child», Jessamy replied. «That grace is given to few — though I am told that you are to spend some time in the convent to finish your education. Don't pout; you may find that a very rewarding time. I understand that you are to go to Notre Dame d'Arc-en-Ciel — Our Lady of the Rainbow. It is just north of Rhemuth. Did you know that one of my daughters resides there?»
Marie looked startled, and Alyce's jaw dropped.
«She does?»
«Aye, my second daughter Jessilde — or Sister Iris Jessilde, as she is now called. She has found great contentment there».
Alyce bit at her lower lip, clearly taken aback.
«If she has a true vocation, then I am glad for her», she murmured, «though I cannot imagine it is a comfortable place for those of our kind».
«Actually», Jessamy said, with another glance over her shoulder, «the Church is quite happy for women of our kind to take up the religious life. Shut away in a convent, we are unlikely to reproduce more of our race». At the girls' scandalized expressions, she added, «You needn't look shocked, my dears. It does happen. Not all are able keep a vow of chastity. But such a life does have its compensations, of course. A cloister provides safety, sustenance, and ample time for study and contemplation. There are far worse fates».
After a pause, Alyce whispered, «Mother told me how you were forced to marry when you were near our age. Will the king force us to marry so young, do you think?»
«I shall do my best to see that he does not», Jessamy replied. «He will certainly weigh any prospect of your marriages with gr
eat care. Never forget that, as Deryni and the sisters of a future duke, your continued existence will always be, first and foremost, a matter of expedience. I cannot stress enough the narrow knife-edge upon which all those of our race are forever balanced — and any stumble could mean your deaths, or the deaths of others.
«But be of good cheer», she added, at their glum expressions. «I cannot promise regarding the demands of state, of course, but I count myself fortunate that both their Majesties regard me as a friend as well as a servant of the court».
«The queen looks a kind woman», Marie said hopefully.
«Darlings, she is hardly more than a girl like you, for all that she is already a mother», Jessamy reminded them, laughing gently. «She was not yet fifteen when she married the king, and she conceived almost at once. Come November, she will be but seventeen. But — you've not yet been presented to her, have you? Of course you have not; we've only just arrived».
The two girls shook their heads, eyes wide.
«Then, come, you must make her acquaintance», Jessamy went on, as the three of them got to their feet. «She will be glad of company closer to her own age. Most of us in the royal household served one or both of the queens before her, and are old enough to be her mother — or yours. And the young men at court will adore you».
Smiling encouragement as she moved between them, Jessamy shepherded them back toward where the queen and Prince Brion's nurse had taken over the glad occupation of leading the young prince in a few halting steps, his little hands supported from either side. The king had drawn apart with Earl Keryell and his son for earnest discussion, but kept glancing back at his son.
Brion was a sturdy, handsome child, with clear gray eyes and a shock of straight, silky black hair cut short across the forehead and all around his head in imitation of his father's. On hearing his happy chortle, Donal turned and crouched to hold out both hands, beckoning for Brion to come to him. With an exultant squeal, the boy let go of both supporting hands and toddled confidently into the arms of his sire.
«Jessamy, would you look?» the queen cried, looking up at her and the demoiselles de Corwyn. «My little man is walking! I can't believe how much he's grown while we were away. It has only been a few weeks».
Jessamy smiled. «He has, indeed, grown, Majesty. A proper prince he is».
«I see that your Krispin thrives as well», Richeldis observed, with a glance toward the baby's basket. «He's a fine, fat babe! And who are these pretty maids?» she added, jutting her chin at the girls.
«Majesty, these are Earl Keryell's daughters, Lady Alyce — and Lady Marie». The girls made grave curtsies as their names were spoken. «They tell me that their father wishes to foster them to court».
«So the king has informed me», the queen replied, leaving Brion to his nurse as she came to let the girls kiss her hand. «Ladies, you are most welcome — and you mustn't be afraid of his Majesty», she added, in a conspiratorial whisper. «If he sometimes seems gruff, it is only because he cares so much for all those under his protection. I hope you will be very happy as part of my court».
The girls curtsied again, eyes wide as saucers, and Richeldis gave a gentle laugh.
«You needn't look so serious. I'm sure we shall be good friends. Since you already know Lady Jessamy, I shall place you in her charge — if that is agreeable to you?» she added, with a glance at Jessamy.
«I shall regard them as my own daughters, Majesty», Jessamy replied. «I am certain they will prove a credit to your Majesty's household».
«I am certain they shall», the queen agreed, with a nod of dismissal to the three of them as she returned her regard to her son.
Thus did the demoiselles de Corwyn begin their life at the court of the King and Queen of Gwynedd.
Chapter 8
«The elder women as mothers; the younger as sisters, with all purity».[9]
Keryell Earl of Lendour departed for his own lands on the day following the queen's arrival at Carthanelle, taking with him his son and household and leaving his daughters behind.
The king bade him farewell at the great hall steps, his heir in his arms and his queen at his side, and sent him on his way with the Duke of Cassan and his own brother for escort. Alyce and Marie were permitted to accompany them as far as the harbor for a final adieu, riding with their brother and the two squires, but that only made the final parting more difficult, as they kissed father and brother good-bye and watched their galley sail out of Nyford.
They were in tears for most of the ride back to Carthanelle, though both dukes tried to cajole their young charges into better spirits. Alyce had mostly contained her misery by the time they got back, but Marie was less successful. They ate little at supper, and Marie cried herself to sleep that night, seeking comfort in her elder sister's arms, but finding it only in the stuffed dog that one of the children thrust at her after supper, seeing her sadness.
The royal household remained at Carthanelle until mid-October, when the weather finally broke. Meanwhile, the heat kept tempers short and often frayed. Though both demoiselles de Corwyn were dreadfully homesick for the first few days, they tried gamely to take their minds from their misery by pitching in with the care of the children of the household, and gradually succeeded. The little girl who had given Marie the stuffed dog, a daughter of one of the queen's ladies, developed a particular affection for both girls, and often came to climb onto one of their laps and beg for a story, when she was not trying to coax a smile from them with her winsome antics.
The other children soon followed suit, particularly Prince Brion. At least with the children, both Alyce and Marie soon made themselves favorite playmates, for they were hardly more than children themselves.
They were less successful with the children's mothers, though Jessamy and her daughters did their best to make the newcomers feel welcome, as did the queen. But the other women were caught up in their own concerns, and remained mostly aloof. It was a pattern that would repeat itself often, as the two girls gradually moved farther and farther from the life they had known in their father’s house.
The change of weather, when it finally came, was marked by more than a week of solid rain, when very little moved. It heralded a flurry of preparations for the journey back to Rhemuth, made more exasperating by bored children underfoot, cranky at being kept indoors, and by grown men grumbling about the rain, eager to be on their way. The king was as bad as any of them.
But finally came word that the river again was running at near-normal levels, fit for the royal barges to make their way back up the Eirian to Rhemuth. The trip northward was hardly better than being cooped up at Carthanelle, for each day still saw at least one deluge, but at least the scenery was different, and the rain was good for the land. Alyce tried to remember that, on the day they docked at Desse and switched to horses and litters to complete the journey to the capital. Rhemuth Castle proved to be damp and chill after weeks of rain, and it was growing colder as autumn began giving way to winter.
One reprieve they were granted: that their convent education should not commence until after the festivities of Christmas and Twelfth Night court, which were fast approaching. This was a mixed blessing, for the foothold they had gained while resident at Carthanelle was soon swallowed up in the expanded court that dwelt year-round in Rhemuth.
Marie coped by casting her lot with the other children, all younger than herself, letting herself be swept up in their festal preparations. Alyce, a year older, found herself caught in a curious limbo, no longer a child but not yet a woman, unable to fully embrace either state — and owing to the transitory nature of her residence at court, few made much effort to get acquainted or to help her through it. The queen herself was probably closest to Alyce in age, but her young son and her own duties occupied most of her available time and energy.
As autumn gave way to winter, the weeks of Advent seemed to stretch forever, as cheerless as the shortening winter days. But for Alyce, this time of preparation for the birth of the Chr
istmas King also marked the necessary shift in her frame of mind. The solemnities of Christmas brought a kind of respite, as she dutifully turned her thoughts to the wondrous birth in Bethlehem, and she found herself becoming caught up in some of the excitement as Twelfth Night approached, the most important court in the cycle of the year.
It would be her first at the Haldane court, made all the more special because it would mark the knighting of two of her father's squires, sent from Lendour to receive the accolade from the king's own hand. The two honorees were friends of her childhood: Sé Trelawney and Jovett Chandos, the squires who had had been with her father's party at Carthanelle. Since the conferral of this honor had been set long before Keryell Earl of Lendour decided to take a new wife at Twelfth Night, he had delegated his elder daughter to stand witness in his stead, with her hand on the sword with that of the king, and had directed that she and her sister should perform the office of investing the two young men with the white belts of their knighthood.
«Ahern said to tell you that he would far rather have been here with us», the newly dubbed Sir Sé Trelawney told her that evening, seated beside her at the feast following the court. Marie had started out sitting on his other side, but had moved to sit with Jesiana.
Alyce rolled her eyes and gave him a sidelong glance as he passed her a platter of fine manchet bread, saying nothing as she took a thick slice and started tearing out the soft center. Both Se and Jovett were Deryni, though not known to be so, and Se was well aware of her feelings about the wedding festivities no doubt in progress back at Castle Cynfyn — and Ahern's feelings as well.
«She will probably be wearing our mother's jewels!» she muttered so that only Se could hear her.
«She will be sleeping in your mother's bed», he returned, in the same low tone. «But there's nothing you or I or anyone can do about that. It's what your father wants».
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