Candace C. Bowen - Knight Series 03

by A Knight of Valour

  “Nay, he is still to arrive on the morrow.”

  “Then I am barred from bidding adieu to Mylla, is that it?”

  “My father feels it best under the circumstances,” Leofrick said. “I am sorry for it, Talan.”

  “I suppose it is for the best.” Raking his hands roughly through his tousled hair, Talan crossed to the window. “I honestly do not think I could bid a final farewell to her.”

  “If you have a message for her, I would gladly convey it.”

  “Please tell her I am sorry that I have failed her.” Talan watched the rising sun without seeing it. “And tell her, I will love her until I cease to draw breath, even beyond that if it is truly possible.”

  Chapter Four

  Leofrick softly pulled Mylla’s chamber door closed and turned to their mother who was waiting for him in the passageway. “I conveyed Talan’s message.”

  “Should I go to her?” Lightly clasping Leofrick’s forearm, Emmaline searched his sad blue eyes.

  “Nay, mother.” Leofrick shook his head. “Soon enough she will not have you to comfort her.”

  “Then she will have no one.”

  †

  Mylla wept until there were no more tears left in her. Ignoring a light rapping on her door, she dutifully sat up when her father entered.

  Lightly clearing his throat, he began to pace the floorboards. “Mylla, I know how you feel about being wed to the justice. I also know the depth of your feelings for Sir Talan. What you should know is that men and women are oftentimes beholden at one time or another in their lives to make sacrifices.”

  “Aye, Da.” Tears slipped down Mylla’s cheeks.

  “Your mother’s and my union was arranged yet we have found happiness together.” Her father’s pace slowed. “What I am trying to say is that the justice is a man of great influence, you shall want for nothing. A father could ask for no more in a suitor when it comes to his only daughter.” Stopping altogether, he faced her. “It is my greatest hope that in time you will find a small measure of happiness in your union.” A look of anguish crossed her father’s craggy features. “La-La, if there were any other way—”

  “I know there is not,” Mylla softly interrupted him. “I shall do my best to make you and mother proud.”

  Tipping Mylla’s chin up with his forefinger, her father gently kissed her forehead. “Find happiness in your future children. It is they who will bring joy to your life.”

  †

  Mylla was fumbling with the side lacings on her finest green brocade kirtle when her mother’s maidservant, Cristine, knocked timidly on the door. “May I be of assist to you, Mistress Mylla?”

  “Please, Cristine.” On the verge of tears, Mylla dragged her hair over her shoulder. “I fear my fingers are not cooperating with me this day.”

  “Your mother sent me for you.” Cristine deftly worked the lacings on Mylla’s gown. “The justice’s clerk is waiting to greet you in the solar.”

  Mylla knew Cristine had become more than a maidservant to her mother over the years, they had become close friends. On impulse, she embraced the elder woman. “Please tell mother I will be fine. I am her daughter after all.”

  “It will be a comfort for her to hear it,” Cristine said.

  “I shall miss you, Cristine.” Mylla straightened to her full height with a fixed smile. “Shall we go below? I am as ready as I will ever be.” Leading the way, Mylla heard masculine voices coming from the solar. With an encouraging look from Cristine, she entered.

  Her father stood to greet her while his younger male guest quickly followed suit. Dressed all in black bearing the embroidered insignia of the realm’s lord justice on his surcoat, the man’s fingertips were permanently stained by the ink he used.

  Recognizing the wiry red-haired clerk, Mylla remained aloof.

  “Tis a pleasure to see you again, Mistress Mylla,” the clerk said with a slight smile. “Though we were not formally introduced, we were in the other’s company once afore.”

  “Actually, I believe we have encountered each other twice prior,” Mylla corrected him. “Once was at the village fair, and the other occasion at the trial of my dearest friend.”

  “I am flattered that you remember me.” The clerk dipped his head. “I trust your friend has suffered no lasting effects from the unfortunate incident involving the justice?”

  “Not only did Lecie survive her acquaintance with your employer, she has thrived in the time since,” Mylla said. “She and Sir Albin are expecting their first child soon.”

  “It pleases me greatly to hear it.”

  “Mylla,” her father said. “Chaucey has been recording the details of your dowaire for Justice de Glanville—”

  Chaucey cleared his throat loudly. “Begging your pardon, Sheriff Richard, the justice would not approve of you sharing financial matters with a female.”

  “The justice has not yet wed my daughter.” The sheriff’s tone was harsh. “Whilst she remains in my care, and I choose to share something with her, it remains my right to do so.”

  “I meant no offense.” Chaucey lowered his eyes.

  “Da, I am sure you were more than generous on my behalf,” Mylla said. “The details do not at all matter to me.”

  “I see I have timed my arrival perfectly.” Leofrick entered with a grin. “Mother has sent me to summon you all to dine.”

  “I had not realized how late it has become.” The sheriff stood to present his arm to Mylla. “We shall discuss the matter further after the meal.”

  Leofrick fell into step beside Chaucey. “What say I stand you a pint or two at the tavern after supper?”

  “The justice does not approve of my imbibing spirits in public houses. Thank you all the same, Mister Leofrick.”

  “There is no mister about me.” Leofrick wrapped his arm around Chaucey’s bowed shoulders. “You and I are friends now so you can call me Leofrick, or Leo if you prefer.”

  “I do not have any friends.” Drawing his bottom lip between his overlapping teeth, Chaucey appeared uncertain.

  “Well you have a friend now.” Leofrick pressed his advantage. “I warrant the justice would not begrudge you a pint after all you do for him.”

  “I would beg to differ,” Chaucey said. “The justice does not approve of my being social.”

  “It saddens me to hear how unjustly you are treated.” Leofrick shook his head. “The justice should appreciate all you do for him.”

  “I consider myself fortunate to have such an illustrious position,” Chaucey hedged.

  “Are you given leisure time to enjoy yourself?”

  “On occasion, I am afforded time to myself when the justice is called upon to attend celebratory events at the palace.”

  “If you have not noticed, you are fortunate to have some leisure time to yourself right now.” Leofrick proceeded to clinch the deal. “Being one of your hosts, I have a duty to see to your welfare. I would be remiss if I did not provide you with some sort of amusement.”

  “I suppose one cup of ale could not hurt,” Chaucey said, “if the justice were to remain unaware of it.”

  “My lips will remain forever sealed.” Leofrick clapped the

  slighter man on the shoulder nearly knocking him over.

  Taking their places at the table, the meal consisting of roasted meat and vegetables commenced with mild social banter.

  To ascertain what kind of man his daughter would be marrying, Sheriff Richard would occasionally ply Chaucey with questions about the justice. For his part, Chaucey evaded the more personal questions. Keeping the conversation on safer grounds, he spoke about the life of leisure Mylla could expect.

  Noticing Mylla’s persisting melancholy, Chaucey made another attempt to cheer her. “Have you ever been to court, Mistress Mylla?”

  Surprised to be directly called upon, Mylla looked up from her untouched platter. “I have not.”

  “After your marriage you will come to know its delights quite well,” Chaucey said.
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  “The justice’s London residence is only a short carriage ride from the palace.”

  “Thank you for sharing that with me,” Mylla murmured.

  “There is no finer place than Westminster Palace,” Chaucey went on. “The king often has feasts, and all kinds of entertainment are provided for the nobles in residence. Are you partial to troubadours?”

  “I have only had the pleasure of listening to a few in my time,” Mylla said. “They were traveling troubadours who came to Rochester for the annual harvest festivals.”

  “Traveling troubadours cannot compare to the storytellers our good King Henry keeps in residence,” Chaucey said. “They are well versed in all current happenings and court gossip.”

  “I am not at all familiar with idle gossip.”

  “Oh, you will be.” Chaucey raised his cup to toast her. “Indeed. There will be no end to the goings-on you will have privy to once you are the justice’s wife. He will nevertheless expect your total discretion. Whereas the justice enjoys listening to gossip, he does not abide being the subject of it.”

  “How very duplicitous of him,” Mylla observed.

  Sheriff Richard coughed lightly in warning.

  Falling silent, Mylla again studied her food.

  The meal progressed with Chaucey droning on about court life. The longer he spoke, the more sullen Mylla appeared.

  When the topic turned to how many gowns his sister could look forward to having, Leofrick casually interjected his plans to visit the tavern after supper. Inviting Frederick and Caine to join them for a drink, he purposefully overlooked Edmund.

  Sensing Leofrick was up to something, Edmund studied Leofrick’s cocky demeanor. “I would not mind joining you for a pint, brother.”

  “Then tis a pity you are not invited,” Leofrick said. “I have seen enough of your dour countenance for one day.”

  Edmund remained silent when he caught his father’s warning look. Angrily stuffing his mouth with a piece of meat, he swallowed too soon and began to choke. He coughed raggedly until he managed to dislodge the obstruction. His face a mottled red, he glared his anger at Leofrick.

  “You need to take smaller bites.” Frederick belatedly reached over to thump his brother soundly on the back.

  Leofrick passed Edmund his cup of ale. “Best make sure you swallow it down lest you choke to death in front of our guest.”

  The meal resumed in an uncomfortable silence until Chaucey excused himself to use the garderobe located at the back of the manor.

  “Are you mad, Leofrick?” Edmund hissed the moment the family was left alone. “Talan has yet to leave the village. If Chaucey sees him at the tavern and reports back to the justice—”

  “Ease up, Edmund,” Leofrick whispered. “Talan is more honorable than you give him credit for. He gave his word he will abide by father’s wishes to stay away, and I would wager my life that he will.”

  “Then what game do you play at with the clerk?”

  “Chaucey has the ability at allay our fears where Mylla is concerned,” Leofrick said. “I merely would like to know what kind of man the justice is afore we blindly hand her over to him.”

  “So what are you planning to do?” Edmund appeared skeptical. “Ply him with drink until he begins to spill the justice’s secrets?”

  “Do you have a better idea?” Leofrick cocked a blond eyebrow.

  “I believe Leofrick’s plan is sound,” Emmaline said, lightly touching her husband’s sleeve. “My mind would rest easier if we knew more about the justice’s character.”

  “I do not see there being any harm in it.” Richard shifted to address Leofrick. “Be discreet.”

  “He shan’t suspect a thing, Da.”

  “Tell me this, Leo.” Edmund gripped his cup with white knuckles. “What if the news the clerk has to impart is not something you wish to hear? What could you possibly do about it? What can any of us do?”

  Leofrick was spared from replying by Chaucey’s return.

  Declining Leofrick’s invitation, Frederick and Caine remained behind with the family.

  Still seething with anger at Edmund, Leofrick did his best to conceal it from Chaucey when bidding his family a good evening.

  It was well after dark when the pair approached the tavern. His step slowing, Chaucey muttered to himself, “One drink will do no harm.”

  Glad for the cover of darkness, Leofrick grinned.

  After supper had been served the tavern’s crowd had thinned considerably. His eyes scanning the common room for any sight of Talan, Leofrick selected a table beside the hearth. Within sight of the steps leading to the guest chambers, he sat with his back to the wall.

  Smoothing the curls of her ash-blonde hair away from her face, Anne hastened from the back to serve them. Her pace slowed when she recognized the justice’s steward. “Will you be joining us for supper this eve, Mister Leofrick? Winifred has some vegetable stew left in the cookpot.”

  “No thank you, Anne. My friend Chaucey here and I have already supped with my family.” Leofrick’s brows drew together in concern. “Are you not faring well? You do not seem your usual cheery self this eve.”

  “Mary and I have been a tad melancholy since the children departed for Hitchin. The twins and Master Clayton are bound to be unrecognizable the next we see them.” Childless themselves, the women had bonded with Lecie’s siblings since being employed by Albin.

  “I am sure they miss you both,” Leofrick soothed. “Mayhap it shan’t be too long afore they return for a visit.”

  “Though we are parted, we are grateful that Lecie lives to look after them.” Her eyes narrowed on Chaucey. “I shall fetch you both a cup of ale.”

  “It appears I am not well liked in Rochester,” Chaucey said.

  “Take no offense.” Leaning back in his seat, Leofrick stretched out his long legs. “Women tend to be overly protective when it comes to children.”

  “Everywhere I go I tend to run into such temperamental people.”

  Returning with their ales, Anne purposely tipped the cup while serving Chaucey spilling some of the amber liquid onto his lap. “Forgive my clumsiness,” she said halfheartedly.

  Chaucey jumped up to brush the excess liquid from his surcoat. “The justice is bound to notice. He has a keen sense of smell and the eyes of a hawk.”

  “Do not fret, Chaucey.” Leofrick frowned at Anne. “My mother shall have it laundered for you prior to his arrival.”

  “My husband is tending the bar this evening.” Anne begrudgingly handed Chaucey a stained linen rag. “Let him or me know if you need anything else.”

  Resuming his seat, Chaucey tossed the rag on the table. “Do you still believe I should not take offense?”

  “Perhaps you should,” Leofrick acknowledged with a grin. “Are you often treated thusly?”

  “I oftentimes take the brunt of the dislike people feel for the justice.” Taking a small sip of ale, Chaucey set his cup on the table. “I am treated far better at court. With so many sycophants seeking my employer’s notice, I tend to be quite popular.”

  “I have never been inside Westminster myself. Closest I ever came was to an inn just beyond the gates.”

  “Mayhap that will change in the future,” Chaucey said. “You and your family shall have an influential connection at court.”

  “Let us hope the justice remains in King Henry’s favor.”

  “You have nothing to fear on that account,” Chaucey assured him. “The justice has known the king since they were both young lads.”

  Draining his cup, Leofrick signaled for two refills. “I had no idea they were on such affable terms.”

  “The justice does not like for me to speak about his personal affairs.” Finishing his ale, Chaucey reached for the refill. “I must ask for your discretion in all matters spoken here.”

  “I am nothing if not discreet,” Leofrick assured him.

  “I must say, it is nice to confide in someone.” Taking a swallow, Chaucey belched. “The jus
tice is not always the most amiable of men.”

  “Amiable would be the last word I would use to describe him.”

  “I consider that odd,” Chaucey admitted. “In an attempt to impress your father, the justice has been naught but kind to your family.”

  Leofrick’s look of dismay turned to one of alarm when he spotted Talan on the steps. Coughing loudly, he pounded a fist against his chest until he gained his attention. Darting a glance toward his guest, he shook his head.

  Recognizing the clerk, Talan quickly returned the way he had come.

  Concern had Chaucey half rising from his seat. “Leofrick, are you choking?”

  “No need to worry.” Leofrick relaxed back in his seat. “I often tend to swallow too swiftly.”

  “You certainly do seem to have a hearty disposition for the brew.” Chaucey’s hand shook as he sought to catch up.

  “You are wrong on that account.” Leofrick chuckled. “When it comes to ale, Sir Albin could drink every man here under the table, me included.”

  “If that is the case, it must have been preordained for him to wed an alewife.”

  “After his and Lady Lecie’s recent troubles, I would say they are both deserving of a boon,” Leofrick said.

  “I hope you do not blame me for—”

  “Speak no more about the matter.” Leofrick signaled to Simon for more ale. “What is done is done.”

  Surprised by the speed of the request, Simon caught Anne’s eye. When his wife shrugged, he filled an earthenware pitcher from the keg and brought it to the table. Glaring his disapproval at Chaucey, he set it beside Leofrick.

  Leofrick picked up the pitcher to replenish the mugs. “This will save you some time, eh Simon?”

  “Summon me if you need anything else, Mister Leofrick.” With a last look of loathing at Chaucey, Simon returned to the bar.

  “It would be nice if more people believed as you.” Chaucey picked up his cup with a look of resignation. “It is not easy being so despised.”

  “Take heart,” Leofrick said, “tis the justice they despise, not you.”

  “And well they should. He is a despicable man and everyone knows it.” Chaucey belched again. “If he does not manipulate events to his advantage through fear, he uses outright intimidation. I have seen highborn nobles cower afore the justice.”