Love in a Mist

by Patricia Grasso

  “Bloody popinjays,” the boy muttered.

  Honk! Honk! Honk!

  Keely and Henry looked in the direction of that sound. Eluding his keepers, Anthony the goose was waddling as fast as he could toward them.

  “What do you think of the countess’s pet?” Henry asked.

  “Anthony lives better than most,” Keely answered. “I especially love his emerald and diamond collar.”

  The honking goose stopped in front of Keely, who’d begun a practice of feeding him a treat each afternoon. She reached into her pocket and withdrew the slice of bread she’d saved from her dinner. Breaking it into small pieces, she fed the fat goose and then gestured to his keepers, Bart and Jasper, who leashed him and led him away.

  “Friendship is wherever we find it,” Keely said, glancing at her brother. “Even a goose or a pig or a tree can be a worthy friend.”

  Henry smiled. His sister was lovely and charming, but definitely strange. If he had to choose between the two, he’d take Keely over Morgana any day. Lovely, charming, and strange were more pleasant than selfish, shallow, and vicious.

  “Will you be attending my wedding?” Keely asked. “Odo and Hew need someone to watch over them while the earl and I are busy with our guests.”

  “When is it?”

  “The week after Samhuinn.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Samhuinn is what the church now calls All Hallow’s Eve, All Hallow’s Day, and All Soul’s Day,” Keely answered. “Three days of potent magic, when the veil between our world and that of our ancestors draws aside. Those who are prepared can journey to the other world.”

  Henry snorted with disbelief. “Do you actually believe that people can leave this world and—?”

  “The past and the future,” Keely said. “’Tis a marvelous time when chaos reigns. Don’t the English celebrate it?”

  “How do the Welsh celebrate?”

  “With feasts and disguises and pranks.”

  “Disguises and pranks?” he echoed, interested.

  “Great fires are lit inside and outside the house,” Keely told him, her excitement infectious. “The doors are thrown open, and a sumptuous feast is served.”

  “What about the disguises and pranks?”

  “You must wear your clothing turned inside out and blacken your face with soot so evil spirits won’t recognize you,” Keely went on. “For three days, you may trick anyone you want. Without repercussions, I might add.”

  “I can hardly wait,” Henry said, rubbing his hands together.

  “Giving the fig is the only English tradition for All Hallow’s Eve.”

  “What’s that?”

  Henry made a fist with his right hand and stuck his thumb up between his first and second fingers. “See,” he said, holding his hand out. “Give it to family, friend, or lover on All Hallow’s Eve. The fig means ‘I like you.’”

  “What is so special about that?” Keely asked. “I could do that any day.”

  “’Tis the English custom,” Henry said. “You wouldn’t give a friend a New Year’s gift on Midsummer’s Eve, would you?”

  “No.”

  “We give New Year’s gifts on New Year’s and the fig on All Hallow’s Eve. Understand?”

  Keely gifted her brother with a smile and nodded.

  “Pranking the Countess of Cheshire would be fun,” Henry said, thinking of that lady’s pendulous breasts heaving with her fright. “What do you say?” When she nodded, he added, “Lean close. We want no one to overhear us.”

  Keely and Henry bent their heads together and plotted pranks against the inhabitants of Talbot House. So intent were they on their outrageous schemes, they never heard the intruder’s approach.

  “Hello, beauty.”

  Keely snapped her head up at the sound of that voice, and before she thought to mask her feelings, she gifted the earl with a dazzling smile that told him how happy she was to see him. The butterflies’ wings returned to her stomach, but Keely cared not a whit. The sight of the earl’s handsome face cheered her.

  “Did you miss me, dearest?”

  “The countess kept me busy.”

  “You wound me, sweetheart,” Richard said. “Each moment at court felt as long as a day. I feared I’d expire pining for you.”

  Keely arched an ebony brow at him. “How fare the Ladies Sarah and Jane?”

  “Who?”

  Keely laughed, more at his expression of feigned innocence than at what he’d said. How one man could be so devastatingly charming boggled her mind.

  “Henry and I were plotting our Samh—I mean, our All Hallow’s Eve pranks.”

  Henry stood up and offered the earl his seat on the bench beside Keely. “Congratulations on your forthcoming marriage, my lord. Any good hunting at court?”

  “I’ve quit that sport,” Richard answered. He looked at Keely and lost his good humor. “What’s wrong with your mouth? And your eyelids are heavy. Have you been crying?”

  “I fell,” Keely said. “The pain brought me tears.”

  Richard surprised her by putting his arm around her shoulder and drawing her close. “Do you see how much you need me to protect you, dearest?”

  “No one could have protected her from the bitch’s wrath,” Henry said, earning himself a censorious frown. “Morgana smacked her.”

  “Henry.” Keely’s voice held a warning note.

  “Give us a few moments of privacy,” Richard said to the boy, his irritation apparent. It was a command, not a request.

  “Certainly.” Henry turned to Keely. “I do wish you weren’t my sister so we could practice my new hobby together.”

  “I can help you,” Keely offered.

  “Not with this hobby.”

  “Why can’t I?”

  Henry winked at the earl and then walked away, calling over his shoulder, “’Tis making love.”

  Keely blushed scarlet. She refused to look at the earl.

  “Never lie to me again,” Richard said, close to her ear. “I despise liars.”

  “I didn’t lie. I fell because Morgana slapped me,” Keely tried to explain, her gaze pleading for understanding. “You neglected to tell me that Morgana and you had intended to wed.”

  “Morgana intended to marry me, but after passing the longest week of my life at Ludlow Castle, I had no such intention toward her,” Richard said. “Only a man enamored of misery would offer for that one.”

  Keely felt relieved. “Disagreeable people are usually unhappy. Try to be more sympathetic.”

  Richard raised his brows, a habit of his that was becoming more endearing to her with each passing day. “What were Henry and you planning?”

  “A special All Hallow’s Eve celebration.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “A surprise.”

  Richard planted a chaste kiss on the uninjured side of her mouth. “Share it with me, dearest.”

  Keely shook her head. “’Tis a secret between my brother and me.”

  Richard longed to press his lips on hers but controlled the urge because of her injury. He contented himself with nuzzling her neck instead.

  Keely wondered what to do as delicious shivers of desire danced down her spine. Should she allow him this liberty because of their betrothal? Or ought she to stop him—something she didn’t want to do?

  “Several reports await me,” he murmured against her ear, “but I’ll sup with you tonight.”

  “That’s not a good idea,” she said. “Morgana—”

  “Baron Smythe will keep her occupied,” Richard said, brushing his lips against her temple. “Willis is interested in Morgana.”

  Keely suffered a chill feeling of dread at the mention of the black-haired baron. Worry etched itself across her delicate features.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t like the baron,” she answered.

  “You scarcely know him.”

  “’Tis a feeling I have—and trust.”

  “Woman’s in
tuition?”

  Keely didn’t smile. “The aura of untimely death surrounds him like a shroud. The baron is a dangerous, untrustworthy man.”

  “Are you a fortune-telling gypsy?” Richard asked. “Or a witch?”

  “I am a—” Keely broke off, unwilling to jeopardize their marriage.

  “You’re a what?”

  “A silly woman.”

  “Not so,” Richard said, kissing her hand. “You are as lovely as the legendary goddess Venus and as sweet as marchpane, but you are wrong about Willis.”

  Keely managed a smile. “I’m certain you’re correct.”

  “Until supper, dearest.” Richard walked away. Almost home, he stopped short as he recalled Burghley’s warning to him at Kenilworth Castle. Richard whirled around and retraced his steps back to the garden, but Keely had already vanished inside Talbot House. Was it coincidence that she’d used the exact words to describe Smythe that Burghley had?

  * * *

  Early evening’s supper hour found Keely lingering in her bedchamber. Her reluctance to face her sister’s hatred had imprisoned her there all afternoon, but delaying the inevitable was now impossible. Only the delivery of her new gowns cheered her flagging spirit.

  Keely wore a pale gray velvet gown with an underskirt and an underblouse of ivory silk. Its subdued color reminded her of the mountain mists in Wales and matched her mood. The only splashes of bright color were the violet of her eyes and the glittering dragon pendant she always wore.

  How humiliated she would be if Morgana hurled insults at her in the presence of the earl. Though, it could be for the best. The earl needed to learn what marriage to a bastard meant. He’d either break their betrothal or arm himself against the gossip that would follow her through life.

  Thinking of Richard reminded Keely that Baron Smythe would also be a supper guest that evening. Though she disliked the baron, she’d set her revulsion aside for the earl’s sake.

  Keely gave herself a mental shake and rubbed the palm of her hand across an imaginary wrinkle on the skirt of her gown. To hide from her sister’s hatred would be impossible. She lifted her chin a notch, squared her shoulders, and left her chamber.

  “Hello, beauty.” With his arms folded across his chest, Richard leaned against the wall in the foyer. His emerald gaze swept over her petite form and gleamed with an emotion she failed to recognize.

  “What are you doing?” Keely asked, seeing him loitering there.

  “Waiting for you, of course.”

  Keely gave him a pleased smile. “I know the way to the hall.”

  Richard raised his copper brows. “Brave knights always protect their ladies from dragons. I thought you would want me by your side when we enter her company.”

  “How gallant of you,” Keely said, warmed by his thoughtfulness. “How could you know what my feelings would be?”

  “My heart is attuned to yours, dearest.”

  “My lord, you do possess the most outrageous tongue.”

  Richard gave her a wolfish grin. “After we’re wed, I’ll show you how truly outrageous my tongue can be.”

  Keely blushed. She had no idea what he meant, but her short experience with the earl had shown her that his words usually had secret meanings.

  “You do blush prettily.” Richard planted a kiss on her flushed cheek.

  Instead of escorting her into the hall, Richard led Keely to a small family dining chamber, where the others awaited them. Seated at each end of the table were Duke Robert and Lady Dawn. Morgana and Willis Smythe were already seated on one side while Henry sat on the other. Beside him two places were set for them. Keely sat down between Richard and her brother.

  “Latecomers get no supper,” Morgana announced. “They must wait until the next meal.”

  “I’ll decide who eats and who doesn’t,” Duke Robert said.

  Steeling herself against her fears, Keely smiled at the baron. “Seeing you again is a pleasure, sir.”

  “Willis,” he corrected, returning her smile. “You’ve injured your lip?”

  Keely nodded. “I fell.”

  On either side of her, Richard and Henry cleared their throats to indicate their disapproval. Morgana’s blue-eyed gaze shot daggers at them. Keely gave her full attention to her meal.

  A medley of appetizing dishes were laid out on the table in front of her. Cabbage chowder was the first course, followed by roasted chicken with rice and almonds. Braised spring greens and golden leeks with onions accompanied the chicken.

  “You look lovely in your new gown,” Duke Robert complimented Keely.

  “Like a tiny gray pigeon,” Morgana added, her smile malicious.

  “Or a pretty mourning dove,” Richard said.

  Henry cleared his throat. “Lady Dawn, I would know all about the wedding preparations.”

  “’Twill be the wedding of the decade,” the countess said, ignoring the duke’s warning frown. “Just think, Henry. Our darling Keely will be wed to England's premier earl, one of the queen’s favorites, amid the splendor of Hampton Court.”

  “Elizabeth plans to make this a grand affair,” Richard added, taking his cue from the countess.

  “I am honored to serve as your best man,” Willis said, raising his wine goblet in a salute to his friend.

  “Is the queen paying for it?” Morgana asked.

  “The bride’s father assumes the expenses,” Duke Robert answered. “You know that.”

  “Such fuss and bother for a bastard?”

  “Morgana.” Duke Robert’s voice held a note of warning.

  Keely crimsoned but sat erect in her chair. Though her sister’s cruelty angered her, Keely refused to respond to it and ruin the meal for the others. Besides, how did one refute the truth? She was, in fact, a bastard. Refusing to look at anyone, she kept her eyes downcast and folded her hands in her lap.

  Both Richard and Henry reached over to give her hand an encouraging squeeze, but they caught each other’s instead. Seeing their hands entwined across her lap, Keely giggled and placed her two hands on the table. Realizing their mistake, the man and the boy snatched their hands back.

  “I hope I’m allowed to attend,” Henry said to his father. “Keely needs someone to watch over her cousins.”

  Richard snapped his head around to stare at Keely. That she expected the two giants to attend his wedding surprised him. The thought of those bumbling blockheads mingling at court filled him with dread.

  Catching the earl’s reaction, Morgana asked, “You intend to present those louts at court?”

  “Odo and Hew are family,” Keely told her. “Of course they will see me married.” She looked at the earl for confirmation. “Won’t they?”

  “I never intended otherwise, dearest,” Richard assured her. “May, June, and Henry will guard—I mean, keep them company.”

  “May and June?” Willis asked.

  “Richard hired two cousins to serve as Keely’s tiringwomen,” Lady Dawn told him.

  “Why does she need two?” Morgana whined. “One will suffice.”

  “Dear Richard is twice as wealthy as any other Englishman, so Keely requires twice as many women,” Lady Dawn answered, confident in her nonsensical logic. “Have you seen her betrothal ring?”

  Keely hid her left hand on her lap. Annoying her sister made no sense.

  “Let’s see.” Henry yanked her hand high into the air for all to see. “Diamonds, emeralds—”

  “Papa,” Morgana interrupted, enraged by her brother’s baiting, “did you know that Henry’s been futtering Ludlow’s maids?”

  Richard and Willis burst out laughing. The Countess of Cheshire chuckled throatily. Keely bit her lip to keep from laughing, then regretted doing so when she felt the pain. Only the duke appeared unamused.

  “’Tis an unfit topic for the table,” the duke informed his daughter. Turning to his son, he added, “We’ll discuss this later.”

  “Now, Tally,” the countess drawled, coming to the boy’s defense. “’Tis natural
for boys to—”

  “Chessy, the last thing I need is a castle filled with my son’s b—” Duke Robert broke off. As far as the world knew, his own bastard sat at the table with them.

  Morgana broke the uncomfortable silence that followed. “What made you decide to marry our dear, lamentably illegitimate sister?” she asked the earl.

  “Devereux wanted her so badly,” Henry blurted, “he tricked her into a compromising situation.”

  “How difficult could that have been?” Morgana sneered. “She probably inherited her mother’s wanton habits.”

  As the duke reached out to slap his daughter, Keely leaped out of her chair so quickly, it toppled over. Glorious in her fury, she placed the palms of her hands on the table and glared with murderous intent at her sister.

  “Heed my words,” Keely warned the other girl. “I can and will bear the insults you heap at my feet, but speaking ill of my mother is quite another matter. Megan was the gentlest woman who ever walked upon this earth and would forgive whatever you said. However, Englishness taints my blood, and I am decidedly less forgiving than she. If you even whisper her name, ’twill be your final earthly act, for I will kill you. Understand?”

  Morgana could only stare at her.

  “Answer my question,” Keely shouted. “Do you understand?”

  “Y-y-yes,” the blonde stammered, bobbing her head up and down.

  “Your continued good health depends upon your remembering that,” Keely threatened. Then, with her head held high, she quit the chamber.

  Richard saw the tears that welled in Keely’s eyes as she turned to leave the chamber. “Bloody hell,” he muttered and went after her.

  Slowly and deliberately, Duke Robert rose from his chair. His gaze never wavered from Morgana’s as he walked around the table. Grasping her upper arm, the duke yanked her out of the chair and dragged her out of the chamber.

  “More leeks, baron?” Lady Dawn asked, her smile feline.

  His lips quirked. “No, thank you, my lady.”

  “Tell me, darling,” she said, her gaze sliding to the younger Talbot. “However did you become interested in futtering maids?”

  Henry choked on his wine . . .

  Richard caught up with Keely in the foyer as she was about to run up the stairs. He reached out and grabbed her upper arm to prevent her flight.