Those words seemed to convince her, for she smiled then and picked up her teacup. “Thank you so much, Iselda. For yes, there is still a great deal to do.”
The meal was quiet after that exchange, as everyone ate quickly — presumably so they could get on with all their very important tasks. Once I was done with my bread and fruit and eggs, I excused myself from the table, then ran upstairs to my room so I might fetch my hat. As I did so, I cast a wary glance outside, trying to gauge whether I had overreached by saying that the sun should not be any trouble at all.
But some high, thin clouds had drifted in during the past hour, making me think that it would not be so very difficult to spend a half hour or so outdoors. If the clouds could only hold until I was done….
Tying the ribbons of my hat under my chin, I went back down the stairs, then out the nearest doorway that opened onto the gardens. Against the opposite wall, mostly obscured by a hedge, was a small shed that contained gardening implements; from there I fetched a pair of clippers and a basket. Then I went back out into the sun and began walking down one of the paths, eyes roving from side to side in search of the most likely specimens. Since Aunt Lyselle had not specified a certain type or color of rose, I was not all the discriminating, and only made sure that I snipped off flowers which were nearly at their peak.
Because the summer sun had been warm and the nights mild, I found an almost overwhelming number of worthy blooms. My basket began to fill up very quickly, and I thought I should be able to get indoors before I had even been out here a half hour.
“Iselda.”
My heart sank, but I arranged a smile on my features and turned to face him. “Lord Mayson.”
His gaze moved to the basket of flowers I held. “Let me take that for you.”
“It’s really not necessary — ”
“I insist.”
I subsided then, for I knew there was not much point in arguing. He would do the chivalrous thing, and despite our friendship — and the new intimacy of that shared kiss — I understood that it was not entirely wise to argue with the son of an earl.
So I surrendered the basket, saying, “I fear that poor Aunt Lyselle is rather in a state, what with so many guests about to descend upon the castle.”
Mayson chuckled. “Yes, she is not her usual calm self. But I suppose it is not every day that one sees their eldest child married.”
“True.” I feared the topic of marriage was fraught with pitfalls, so I hastened to say, hoping I could steer the conversation elsewhere, “Do you think it will rain? For it seems that more and more clouds have begun to gather?”
One corner of his mouth went up in the lopsided smile that had become so familiar to me over the past few weeks. If his amusement stemmed from my obvious attempt to change the subject, he gave no sign of it. He replied, his voice grave, “Perhaps. But rain will cool things down for everyone, and your aunt does not have anything planned for out of doors, does she?”
“Not today,” I said, relieved that he had decided to play along. “But tomorrow she intends to have an evening reception here in the rose garden, after more guests arrive.”
Mayson tilted his head to look up at the sky. At that angle, the lines of his jaw and throat were thrown into sharp relief, and I had to force myself not to stare. He really was such a fine-looking man. Why, then, was I so reluctant?
I did not have the chance to puzzle out that particular conundrum, for in the next moment he turned back to me and said, “If we are to have any rain, I doubt it will stay with us long. Perhaps some brief showers this evening, but certainly not enough to inconvenience your aunt or her guests.”
“That is good to hear.” Whether he truly was one of those gifted at reading the signs that indicated whether rain would fall or move past without gracing us with a single drop, or whether he was merely trying to reassure me, I did not know. And perhaps it did not matter so very much. Even if we had a torrential summer storm move in, my aunt could always change her plans and have the reception moved to one of the great salons within the castle. It was not as if we lacked the space.
We had been moving slowly from spot to spot so I might stop here and there to clip off another rose, but Mayson stopped then and looked around, a small smile touching his lips.
“Do you know where we are, Iselda?”
Confused, I glanced from side to side, attempting to locate something that appeared out of the ordinary, but I could find nothing. “Other than in my aunt’s rose garden, no, I fear not.”
He shook his head at me, but when he replied, his tone was mild enough. “This is where I kissed you.”
Oh, dear. Surely he was not going to attempt the same thing now, not when it was bright daylight and anyone might see us. True, it seemed the rest of the family — and the castle’s servants — were occupied elsewhere, the entire reason why I was the one out in the rose garden with the basket and the clippers. Even so, I found myself praying that he would not forget himself in such a way. If he were to kiss me, and were anyone to witness it, then we would be as good as betrothed. No one would allow me to be compromised in such a way. My family might have had its own disgraces, but I was still a young woman of good birth, one whose virtue had never been questioned.
“Why, so it is,” I said with a silly little giggle, one that sounded very unlike me. But I was so fearful of what he might do next that I was not quite in possession of all my senses.
“Have you thought of it since, Iselda?” he asked. His voice was soft, persuasive, but he made no move to come closer to me, which was something of a relief.
Of course I had. However, I could not admit such a thing to Mayson, for then he would believe that I recalled his kiss because I desired another one, and that was simply not the situation at all.
“I — ”
He took one of the roses from the basket and held it to his nose so he might inhale its fragrance. “So very sweet,” he said, “but not as sweet as the taste of your lips.”
In that moment, I wished someone would come into the garden, for Mayson had not kissed me yet, and perhaps the presence of another person would help him to guard his emotions. But of course no one appeared. I was left to manage him myself.
“I do not think this is an appropriate topic of conversation,” I said primly.
Those words only made him laugh outright. “Oh, do not take that tone with me, Iselda,” he returned. “For I think I know you well enough now, and while you are many things, priggish is certainly not one of them.”
No, I supposed not. Perhaps I had erred in being open and friendly with him, but I had not thought I would see such a shift in his demeanor, especially since only a few days earlier we had both resolved to be friends and nothing more. Could one kiss change a person so?
“Not priggish,” I said, “but cautious. Forgive me, Mayson, but your sudden ardor takes me aback somewhat. At any rate, I do not think this is the time to be discussing such things. There is far too much happening to worry about whatever it is that you think you and I have shared. After the wedding is over — ”
His eyes lit with sudden hope, and I realized I had said the wrong thing. “So once this is all done, we can go to your aunt and uncle and let them know this house will soon be blessed with another wedding?”
Even if I had truly wished to marry Mayson, I did not think Uncle Danly and Aunt Lyselle would be overjoyed to hear of such a match. They would be glad for me, of course, but their happiness would have to be tempered with disappointment, since they had wanted the heir to Bellender Rise to be their daughter’s husband, not mine.
I did not look at him as I said, “That is not what I meant. I only meant to say that all is now in an uproar, and perhaps the very idea of marriage is preying more on your mind than it usually would. This is not the time to be making any decisions.”
His hand tightened on the handle of the basket he held. The gold and ruby ring he wore on his little finger seemed to wink up at me like a baleful eye, and I selected a stem at
random and snipped it, then deposited the yellow rose with its edging of deep coral along with the rest of the blooms already resting in the basket.
A silence fell, one too heavy and uncomfortable for such a mild summer day. A finch trilled away in a tree off to one side from where we stood, but the sound was certainly not enough to break up the pregnant pause.
At last Mayson said, “I cannot pretend to understand your reticence, but I will respect it. Only promise me one thing.”
“What is that?” For I had read far too many stories to ever blindly promise anything, even if I was making that promise to Lord Mayson of Bellender Rise, and not some witch I had met at a crossroads.
He seemed to wince at my caution. When he spoke, his voice sounded almost too even, as if he was holding his anger in check. “It is a simple enough promise. All I ask is that, once the wedding is over and Adalynn has departed with her husband, you will meet with me here again in the moonlight. Let me kiss you once more, Iselda, and see if that will not change your mind.”
Did he really think I was so easily swayed that a single kiss could make me alter my opinion of him? But his expression was so pleading that I relented, and said, “Yes, Mayson. I will make you that promise — if you will promise me in return that if my mind is not changed, then you will abandon this subject forever.”
“I will make that promise,” he said. “For I do not fear its outcome.”
Perhaps he did not…but I thought I rather did.
CHAPTER 8
The Earl and Countess of Delmayne arrived just before noon, bringing with them a sizable retinue, as well as their son Coryn. I had met him previously and thought him to be amiable enough, although not particularly handsome, with his long nose and rather close-set eyes. However, his smile did a great deal to improve his countenance, and it was clear from the way he looked at Adalynn that he thought himself very lucky to have been betrothed to her, even though his family outranked hers by a good deal.
Settling in these august visitors and their attendants took a good deal of time, and so we did not all sit down for luncheon until well after one in the afternoon. No thought of using the smaller, less formal dining chamber for such a function; we all gathered in the great hall we used for grand events, even though the table there could easily have accommodated more than twice our number.
As usual, I was relegated nearly to the foot of the table, and so, since our group had swelled to nearly double its normal count, I was even farther away from where Mayson sat. As Coryn’s equal, he had been placed across from the other one-day Earl, with Adalynn at Coryn’s side.
The separation relieved me, for it gave me time to gather my thoughts and sit quietly as I ate the delicious food that had been set in front of me, the cold pheasant and the melon salad with its dressing of mustard and honey, and all manner of other dishes that had been selected for both their flavor and their ability to prevent any of us from becoming over-warm in the heat of the day. All around, the roses I had brought in bloomed from a number of vases, filling the air with their sweet scent.
Indeed, they seemed to have impressed the countess, for she said to my aunt, “You do have very fine gardens here, do you not?”
I was too far away to see if Aunt Lyselle blushed, but she did give an airy wave of one hand and replied, “Oh, well, they have been here for many years, having been laid out by the late baroness. I only had to make sure that they continued to flourish.”
“It seems that all things flourish here,” said the countess, her clear blue eyes taking in the complement of young women sitting at the table. She was one who could be called more elegant than beautiful, with a long nose nearly identical to her son’s, and the same thin, proud bones to her face. But her gaze was kindly enough. If anything, there was something almost pitying in it, as if she wondered how in the world my aunt and uncle would manage to marry off all those girls to anyone even remotely suitable.
Well, I knew they themselves had wondered the same thing on more than one occasion. And here I was, stealing away Lord Mayson and dashing their hopes for Carella. No, I would not take that burden on myself. I had done nothing to encourage him.
Except kiss him, but he had initiated that contact as well. I was sure if my cousin had been put in that same situation, she would have kissed him back soundly — and probably would have also made sure there were witnesses to the act, so he had no chance of making an escape.
My aunt smiled, but I thought I could detect a bit of strain in her expression. However, she deftly maneuvered the conversation to the countess’ journey here with her family and servitors, and said how lovely it was that they had arrived before there was any rain.
The discussion was mainly commonplaces after that, and so I only listened with half an ear as I ate my luncheon. From time to time I would look up from my plate and catch a smoldering stare sent by Lord Mayson in my direction, but of course he was sitting too far away to even attempt to engage me in conversation, so I was allowed to eat more or less in peace.
Afterward, my aunt took the earl and the countess, my uncle, and Adalynn and her betrothed away so they could inspect the site of the wedding ceremony, as well as the ball to be held afterward. I took advantage of the measured chaos to head back up to my room, since it seemed to be the only place where I was safe from being accosted by Mayson. He had glanced in my direction as I left, but I was too quick for him, and was already out the door while he was still excusing himself from the table.
Once in my room, I let out a relieved breath and prayed that Janessa would not come and make her escape here. But I thought not, for by doing so she might miss out on something interesting, and so she would most likely stay downstairs with the rest of the girls.
For myself, I was glad enough to retrieve one of my books and settle down on the bed with it. Rereading one of my favorite tales would pass the time until supper. I was also glad that dinner promised to be another quiet meal, much like the one which had just ended. It was tomorrow that the rest of the guests would arrive, and the peace of the castle shattered until two days hence, when Adalynn would ride forth with her new husband and we would all be able to settle back down into our regular routines.
At least, I prayed that was what would happen…just as I very much hoped that Mayson would forget the promise I had made him earlier that afternoon.
* * *
As I had thought, dinner passed without incident. The addition of the earl and countess and their son seemed to have a sobering effect on Lord Mayson, for he was very proper and correct, and spent far more time conversing with Carella and Janessa and Theranne than he did speaking to me. This attention was enough to make Carella’s cheeks flush and her eyes twinkle as she stood next to him.
I should have been relieved, except I was fairly certain that he did so only to avoid attracting any particular notice. He and Coryn, Adalynn’s betrothed, also seemed acquainted, and they spoke of getting together a hunting party in the autumn, once the season was upon us again.
All in all, it was quite an unexceptional evening, albeit one that did not pass swiftly enough for my taste. But at last it was time to go upstairs, although Janessa kept chattering away, saying what a gentleman she thought Lord Coryn was, and how she was certain Adalynn would be very happy. I supposed she would, if she would allow herself to be; while her betrothed was not the handsomest man in the room — that honor must go by default to Lord Mayson — still he seemed all amiability, and very much besotted with her. In general, I thought it must be easier to be in love with a man when he was already in love with you.
Except, of course, for my conundrum with Mayson. But I sensed something strange about the intensity of his regard, as if it had grown from some cause I could not quite identify. If he really was madly in love with me, why had that emotion blossomed into being only during the last few days? Surely there must be something more to his attraction than that, for we had been living under the same roof for nearly a month now.
Unfortunately, I could no
t deduce whence had come this sudden ardor, and so I had to push the problem away for now, and arrange a placid expression on my features, lest Janessa ask me what the matter was. It was hard enough to say good night to her in ordinary tones, and pretend to fall asleep without actually doing so.
By that evening, I was almost used to the ritual. Some time later, she sat up in bed, eyes blank and unfocused. And then she climbed out from under the covers, pulled on her slippers, and headed into the hallway.
I had prepared myself this time. As soon as I had determined she was asleep, I slipped out from under the covers, then went to the wardrobe and got out my oldest frock, the one the laundress had saved from my previous depredations, even though there were still some faint stains along the hem. I pulled the dress over my nightgown, as it only differed from my daytime chemises in the thickness of the fabric. Finally came my shoes, which I had stowed under the bed so they might be immediately to hand.
The other girls had already begun to descend the staircase by the time I emerged in the hallway, but no matter, since I knew exactly where they were going. Once more I trailed after them, and once more emerged into the cool night air and headed out toward the forest.
Even though I had managed to slip out without being noticed several times before, on this night I was more tense than usual, probably because we had so many new people sleeping under the castle’s roof. What if the spell used to keep them all slumbering and unawares lost its effect when it had to be cast on that many?
But no one stopped us. The castle slept under the nearly full moon, indifferent to the comings and goings of the young women who lived there.
The air was warmer tonight, the night breeze almost a caress against my cheek. As I followed Janessa and my cousins across the stream and then deeper into the forest, I listened carefully, but heard nothing, not the hooting of an owl, nor even the faint rustlings in the undergrowth that I’d come to associate with the movements of mice or chipmunks or other small denizens of the woodlands.
tales of the latter kingdom 08 - moon dance Page 11