by Anton, Shari
Wilmont was the largest fortress Marian had ever seen. A huge keep sat on a large center mound, surrounded by two thick curtain walls, lofty towers guarded the corners and either side of the gate. A wide moat separated the fortress from the vast clearing around it—a defensive measure, Marian knew, so those within could readily see attackers from without.
At the moment, the clearing was dotted with colorful tents.
The wagon driver chuckled. “Seems the baron saw fit to invite half of England.”
“I like the green one!” Audra proclaimed. “’Tis huge!”
“Should be. Belongs to the earl of Warwick.”
Marian thought he must be mistaken. “The earl of Warwick brings a tent to Wilmont?”
“Aye. Most visitors do, unless they like sleepin’ on a pallet in the hall. The baron, he likes his privacy. Not too many people allowed up the stairs at Wilmont, ’cept family and the personal servants. ’Course, if the king sees fit to come, then his lordship might give way. Maybe.”
Audra poked her head between her mother and the driver. “Will our tent be set up down there, next to the green one?”
The driver smiled at her. “Like that green one, do you? Might be a spot down there yet. We got orders to drop you off at the keep, then go down to set up the tent. I will look for a level spot by the green one.”
“Who does the blue one belong to?”
For the next little while, the driver pointed out tents and named their owners. Earls. Barons. England’s high nobility. She may be of noble blood, but these people were far above her in rank—and Edwin of Tinfield’s and Carolyn de Grasse’s.
And Hugo de Lacy’s, her father, who would have been invited to these festivities if his daughter had married Stephen of Wilmont. How he would love to rub with earls and barons, possibly obtain some position at court for her older brother through their good offices. She’d denied him a rise in rank.
A pang of longing for her mother and sisters hit hard and nearly drew forth tears. Would she even recognize her younger sisters? They would be all grown-up now. Marian swallowed the lump in her throat, knowing the near death experience of last eve brought all this on. Still, ’twas hard to shake off.
“You all hold on, now,” the driver said. “Gets a bit bumpy here for a bit till we get beyond the gate.”
Marian faced forward as the wagon driver snapped the reins to urge the oxen over the drawbridge. With Stephen in the lead, Carolyn beside him, the company soon traversed the bailey and the inner yard to pull up at the stairway to the stone keep. A small army of servants surrounded the company, their general a brusk, gray-haired man who Marian assumed must be Wilmont’s steward.
“Hail, Walter,” Stephen called out. “The lead wagon carries my possessions. The others belong to Lady Carolyn. Have someone find a level piece of ground for her tent.”
“At once, my lord. Lady Ardith awaits you in the hall.”
“Gerard?”
“Not yet returned from hunting.”
Stephen dismounted, then reached up to help Carolyn down, grasping her about the waist—a mannerly yet personal gesture performed toward the woman he intended to marry.
Did his “intention” make Carolyn deserving of a bed in the family apartments? Likely, Edwin would take a pallet in the hall. Which left the tent to her and the girls.
“Lady Marian, if I may be of assistance?”
Edwin stood ready to help her down from the wagon. She could barely look at him, either, remembering her threat flung at Stephen to show Edwin her gratitude. The driver unloaded the girls. Determined to get through whatever she must until she could escape to the tent, Marian gathered her skirt of rough-weave brown, slid her feet more firmly into overlarge black felt slippers borrowed from Carolyn, and climbed out of the wagon.
With as much dignity as she could manage, with gracious Edwin’s arm for support, she crossed to the bottom stair where Stephen and Carolyn waited. Climbing the steep stairway proved no mean feat. The twins, of course, scampered right up.
Stephen grasped the brass handle on the huge oak door and swung it open. Marian entered the great hall with a shuffle, then stopped abruptly to avoid bumping into Carolyn.
“’Tis magnificent,” Carolyn told Stephen, awed.
“Impressive.” Edwin’s nonchalance didn’t ring true; his eyes reflected concern.
Marian perused the hall and understood. Edwin now witnessed the full wealth and power of the baron of Wilmont, against whose brother he contended for Carolyn. ’Twould knock the wind out of any man—or woman.
Wilmont’s great hall was designed to impress all who entered. Torches lit up the vast room. Marble carvings graced towering pillars that supported the vaulted ceiling, from which streamed gold-flecked scarlet banners. Weapons of war vied for space with exquisite tapestries along the whitewashed stone walls.
’Twas near time for the evening meal, and though no meat roasted within the massive hearth, Marian could envision an entire cow turning on the thick spit. Due to the heat, the cooking would be done in the outdoor kitchen.
Behind linen-draped tables on the dais sat two throne-like chairs of heavily carved dark wood. Behind them stood several perches, only two occupied by magnificent falcons.
Everywhere milled finely clad nobles, their jeweled chains and brooches atwinkle, gold or pewter goblets in hand, either awaiting the meal or the baron’s return from hunting.
Marian released Edwin’s arm and whispered, “You have duties to attend. The girls and I will be fine.”
He looked at her askance. She shooed Edwin toward his rightful place beside Carolyn, then held out her hands for Audra and Lyssa.
From near the dais, a woman broke away from a group and headed for the doorway at a brisk pace. Gowned and veiled in saffron, her auburn hair pulled back in a single braid, she was utterly lovely. A genuinely pleased smile lit her face.
Stephen released Carolyn’s arm and bowed toward the woman. “Ah, Ardith. My dear, I do believe I can once again get my arms around you.”
The woman laughed lightly and stood up on tiptoe to hug Stephen. “Did I not know you meant that as praise, I would have the guards toss your handsome hide out the door. Gerard will be sorry he missed your arrival.”
“Only if his hunt proves unsuccessful, and we both know how unlikely that is. He could have waited for me.”
Ardith backed away. “Oh, you will have your chance. Come now, introduce me to your guests.”
As rank dictated, Stephen presented Edwin, then Carolyn, then Marian and her daughters to his sister-by-marriage.
Marian’s opinion of the woman rose higher when her smile never faltered for the “lady” clad as a ragamuffin.
“Gerard and I are most pleased you could attend,” Ardith said, her statement meant for all but mainly addressed to Carolyn.
Carolyn gave a slight bow. “I fear there are more of us than you bargained for, my lady. I hope ’twill cause no hardship.”
Ardith waved a dismissing hand. “With so many about, what matter a few more? ’Tis of no import, I assure you.” Then she bent over, heedless of ceremony and her saffron gown, to face the girls. “And who have we here?”
“This is Audra.” Marian gave Audra’s hand a slight tug. Taking the hint, Audra immediately dropped into a curtsey. “And Lyssa.” Who followed her sister’s lead.
“How adorable!” Ardith said, glancing between them. “But how shall I ever tell you apart? Ah, here.” She reached out to touch Lyssa’s forehead. “You have a mark…oh, dear, a dirt smudge.” Ardith chuckled. “Never fear, I shall find some telling sign so I do not mistake your names.”
Lyssa shrugged. “Most people cannot tell which is which. Only Mama always gets it right.”
Stephen crossed his arms. “Now hold a moment. Have I ever called either of you by the incorrect name?”
Audra smiled. “Not as yet.”
A shiver slithered down Marian’s spine. Not even those who’d known the girls since birth always named the
girls correctly, not even Carolyn. Bah! ’Twas merely through acute observation that Stephen had no trouble identifying the girls, not by some mystical knowledge simply because he’d sired them.
Lady Ardith tilted her head. “Mayhap that is because Stephen has some experience with twins. I am a twin, you know, though my twin is a brother.”
“Any news on Corwin?” Stephen asked.
Ardith straightened. “He and Lady Judith left here for London yesterday. Gerard thought to send a messenger to you, but then realized you would be here nearly as soon as someone could reach you.”
“Been here and gone already?” he asked, both disappointed and visibly relieved.
“’Tis quite a story, but best left until Gerard returns. We tarry overlong in the doorway when you must all be weary and parched from your journey. The meal will be served upon Gerard’s return, but until then, please partake of the wine and ale.”
Ardith took a step, then stopped and stared at Lyssa. Marian’s stomach flipped at the intensity of the lady’s scrutiny.
“You look puzzled, Lyssa,” Ardith commented. “Is something amiss?”
Marian told her racing heart to slow down. A mother herself, Ardith had only noticed a little girl’s puzzlement, not the raven hair so close a match to Stephen’s. Sweet heaven, if she didn’t tamp down her terror at every innocent look or comment, she’d go mad within hours, or possibly give her fears away by her reactions.
Indeed, Lyssa wore an expression of fierce concentration. “I wondered…” she began, then glanced upward. “Mama, would it be bad manners to ask her ladyship if we could see the new baby?”
“’Tis never bad manners to ask a mother to show off her children,” Ardith answered. “Is that not right, Marian?”
The phrasing made Marian smile. “Never. You must be very busy with your guests, so perhaps another time would be best.”
Ardith shook her head. “Now would truly be a good time, since I should check on Matthew anyway. The tyke is adamant about timely meals. Stephen, dear, would you do me the favor of extending Wilmont hospitality to Lord Edwin and Lady Carolyn while Marian and I take the girls upstairs?” She glanced toward the hearth. “Your mother is looking this way. Best you do the honors there, too.”
Stephen’s eyes rolled upward. “Duty calls.”
“Be gracious, Stephen. She tries hard to change her ways.”
“Only because you insist.”
Ardith’s expression turned stern, but she said not a word of reprimand. She didn’t have to. Stephen’s hands soon rose in surrender.
“Oh, very well. Carolyn, Edwin, shall we?”
Ardith’s features softened as the three left. “I hope I did not overstep, Lady Marian. I merely assumed you would prefer to come with us.”
Marian did, for several reasons, not the least of which was her state of improper dress, which bolstered her desire to get out of the keep quickly, encountering as few people as possible. Perhaps this might also be a good time to discuss Lyssa’s headaches. With that over, she and the girls could go to the tent and not have to come back into the keep.
“You assumed correctly, my lady.”
Ardith led the way toward the stairway. Marian released the girls to follow and brought up the rear, shuffling along as best she could. Curiosity turned her head toward the hearth, where Stephen presented Carolyn and Edwin to a raven-haired woman of middling years. The resemblance between Stephen and his mother was striking. His reluctance to greet her indicated the two didn’t get along well. Marian wondered why, then decided ’twas none of her affair.
Ardith called over her shoulder, “Have a care on the stairs. They are narrow and steep.”
Built for defense against intruders attempting to gain the upper floors, the stairway spiraled tightly upward. Marian couldn’t imagine trying to fight one’s way up them with a sword in hand, encumbered by heavy chain mail. ’Struth, she had a hard enough time climbing them with her only encumbrance her floppy slippers.
Halfway up, after nearly falling, Marian kicked the slippers off and carried them. Better the embarrassment of Ardith seeing her guest barefooted than having her tumble down the stairs.
Marian slipped them back on at the top of the stairs. To Ardith’s raised eyebrow, she explained simply. “Borrowed.”
“Mama lost her boots when she nearly drowned in the river,” Lyssa added.
“Lost her gown, too. Stephen saved her, but not the gown,” Audra continued.
“Stephen took off his sherte before he jumped in the water so Mama wore his tunic back to camp.”
“But she could not find her boots so she borrowed Carolyn’s slippers.”
Ardith’s eyes went wide, her jaw slackened.
Marian’s cheeks burned. “Enough, girls.”
Ardith composed herself. “My word, you did have a wearisome journey. No wonder…well, we shall have to find you better fitting footwear, at the least.”
“Oh, please, do not take the trouble.”
“’Tis no bother at all! And you must tell me the whole of this tale.”
Marian’s reluctance to relate any of the story caused her to hesitate. Too long.
“Lyssa scared me with a snake, so I ran into the rushes.”
“Mama ran into the water. Then Audra came out. Then Mama fell over. Stephen told us to stay put and he dove in the river to rescue Mama.”
“So we obeyed and screamed ’cause we were scared.”
Ardith glanced from twin to twin. “I imagine you were terribly frightened.”
Lyssa nodded. “Then men came running to the river from camp and they looked for Mama but they could not find her. Then Mama came out of the woods. Stephen, too. And then we were not scared anymore.”
“Stephen said he was proud of us because we stayed put. Oh, and Mama, too, ’cause we were all so brave.”
Ardith smiled and put a hand on Audra’s head. “You were very brave and obedient. I am proud of you both, too.” The twins fairly beamed. “I must say I am proud of Stephen, as well. He can be very comforting to have around when one is frightened. You see, he once gave me courage when I was badly in need.”
“Did you almost drowned?” Audra asked.
“Nay, but I was in danger.” The lady’s smile faded, her eyes clouded, as if haunted. “I have been ever grateful Stephen was with me and Daymon that day to give me hope and courage. And even though he was terribly wounded, he came to help rescue us. Would that I could convince him I consider him a hero.”
“Did you tell him?” Lyssa asked.
“Oh, aye, many times, and will continue to do so until he truly hears.” Ardith’s smile returned. “I love him as dearly as my own brother, but the man can be obstinate! Now, shall we go see if the babe is awake?”
Terribly wounded.
Marian followed along, envisioning Stephen’s scarred shoulder, the notch in his earlobe. If he’d suffered those wounds in Ardith’s defense, then why didn’t Stephen accept his due? Most men thrived on praise for their daring.
He’d certainly performed heroically yesterday. She owed him her life, her praise and thanks, but not her gratitude.
Chapter Eleven
Stephen swirled the wine in his goblet, playing the part of attentive suitor, half listening to Carolyn and Lady Ursula, his mother, prattle on about the high cost of silk.
What matter? Some goods commanded a high price. A suit of chain mail, a steadfast horse, a well-honed sword. Salt, jewels, a length of silk. Since both Carolyn and his mother possessed coin aplenty to afford whatever luxuries they craved, why complain?
He envied Edwin, who’d had the good sense to offer to see to the setting up of Branwick’s tent and thus escaped this inane discussion. Armand had escaped, too, probably gone to the armory to check on his own pallet and belongings.
Oh, he could probably wander over to some other group of nobles. As a member of the family, he’d be heartily greeted—then fawned over by someone wishing to ingratiate himself to the baron through his b
rother. No fun there.
His gaze wandered over to the stairway, as it had several times in the past little while. Marian hadn’t yet come down. He didn’t worry over her, not while she visited privately with Ardith. Marian would ooh and aah over the baby, then Marian might talk to Ardith about Lyssa’s headaches, the reason she’d come to Wilmont.
’Twas afterward that worried him, the only reason he remained near his mother, hoping for a private word. If not for Marian’s needs, and Carolyn’s apparent disinterest in her cousin’s plight, he wouldn’t bother.
When was the last time he’d wanted to speak to his mother? Not in forever. The woman had been the bane of his life since his birth. She’d not wanted to bear him, hardly spoken to him as a child, tried to manipulate him as a young man. He avoided her sharp, merciless tongue whenever possible.
Lady Ursula may have gentled somewhat over the past few years, but Stephen remembered too many shouting matches, too many vicious insults to trust her “changed” nature entirely. She’d agree to aid Marian out of a sense of duty, not compassion, but as long as Marian benefited, Stephen wouldn’t quibble over why or how.
Now, if he could only think of a way to tell Carolyn to take herself elsewhere.
“Is that not right, Stephen?”
His attention snapped back. “My pardon, Carolyn. I fear my mind wandered. You were saying?”
She smiled and waved a dismissive hand. “’Tis of no import.”
Lady Ursula tilted her head. “Indeed, Stephen, I am surprised that you have not wandered off. Our conversation was beyond the realm of your usual interests.”
Stephen had to admit the reprimand for his inattention a rather gentle one for his mother.
“I admit distraction. I fear I am simply not accustomed to witnessing so large and agreeable a gathering in Wilmont’s hall. ’Tis quite a change from…before.”
Before Gerard became baron and established his rights, before he married and installed his wife as chatelaine. It had galled his mother to hand over the keys, but Gerard hadn’t given her a choice. Ursula lived at Wilmont at Gerard’s sufferance. Stephen firmly believed that fear of Gerard’s power over her, not a change of heart, checked his mother’s behavior.