“And so now my father is making plans to sign the marriage contract,” she admitted. “I should be grateful. Everyone tells me that I should be, for Sir Hervey is charming, ambitious, and fair in looks. But the one thing I am certain is that he does not love me either.” Her eyes dropped to the ground and she let out a small, involuntary sigh. “Once the marriage contract is signed, I will be wed within the month.” A lock of hair fell forward and she caught it before tucking it behind her ear. “I’m sorry to burden you with my troubles, Sir Gareth. I am certain that you would not want to bother yourself with my womanly concerns.”
“Call me Gareth,” he said, offering a smile of reassurance. “Do not worry about your confessions as they will not go beyond these walls,” he said, waving a hand at their surroundings.
She stared at his mouth. Since she first met him, she had never seen him smile, but seeing it now, she was startled at how much it transformed his face. In fact, she caught a glimpse of the man he was before he suffered his downfall.
“If we are to dispense with the formalities,” she said, returning his smile with a shaky one. “You may call me Clarisse.”
“Come, let me take you back to the great hall, Clarisse. There are many people worried about you.”
“I am not certain I want to return at all,” she said with a sigh. But she came back around the worktable and stood beside him. “I wish that all my problems could easily be solved.”
He gave her a thoughtful look. “The solution to your problems might just be to find a new suitor that is more to your liking. He just needs to possess all the qualities that your father and brother are looking for.”
“Aye, but where can I find this man?” She stared at the smoking fire pit. And did this man even exist?
Gareth shrugged. “There is no shortage of unmarried lords and knights here at your cousin’s wedding.”
“You may be right,” she said, giving him a hopeful look. “Perhaps we should go back to the great hall now.”
“After you.” He bent slightly at his waist and made a sweeping motion with his hand, indicating for her to move forward.
Chapter 11
“Are you certain that we should not inform your parents that you’re safe?” Gareth asked.
“I would rather not face them at the moment,” Clarisse said, biting the bottom of her lip.
Gareth guided her through the side entrance and into the great hall. Two hounds wandered the great hall, sniffing out the food that some careless person had dropped. There was still some activity in the great hall, but the majority of the guests had retired to their chambers, and the ones who didn’t want to return to their rooms remained at the tables playing games. Off to the right, a female servant sat on the lap of a knight. The woman leaned forward and whispered something in the man’s ear. He threw his head back, his lusty laughter echoing and mingling with the others sounds in the large chamber. A few paces in front of them, Gareth saw a boy who wore Hervey’s coat-of-arms. The lad beelined toward a group of cheering and shouting pages who were deep in a game of dice.
“Sir Hervey has returned to the castle grounds,” Gareth observed.
“How do you know?” she said, her brows creased in puzzlement.
“His page is over there. The boy would be accompanying your suitor if he still searched for you.”
Clarisse watched the youth, and frowned. “Do you think the others are still looking for me?”
“’Tis likely. We will have the boy tell Sir Hervey that you are found, and that they can call off the search.”
He took her icy hand, placed it at the crook of his arm and led her to the boy.
“I need you to deliver a message for me,” Gareth said, when they neared the page.
The boy spun his head around, and when he saw that it was Gareth, his lip jutted out slightly. “I don’t work for you,” he said, his voice sullen.
“Fine. If your master takes a stick to you for not delivering an important message, then don’t blame me.”
Conflict darted across his countenance. He looked longingly over at his friends. “What’s the important message?” he said glumly.
“Tell him to call off the search. Lady Clarisse is found.”
“Lady Clarisse is found?” he said with disbelief. He turned to look at the woman beside Gareth, and recognition lit his eyes. “I’ll tell him straight away.”
He moved to leave, but Gareth stopped him. “Wait, there’s something else.”
The boy turned back.
“I have a need for dice. Do you carry any in your pouch, boy?”
A shout from the group of boys drew his attention.
“What if I do?” he asked sullenly, now reminded that he was missing out on fun.
Gareth took a copper out of his money pouch and showed it to him. “I’ll pay you for it.”
The insolent look on the youth’s face vanished almost instantly. Digging into the cloth pouch that hung at his belt, he produced wooden dice that were chipped and worn from play. He closed his hands over the game pieces and put out the palm of his other hand.
“I’ll have the coin first.”
Gareth tossed the boy the coin, and unable to catch it in time, the coin fell to the ground. The boy eagerly bent down to pick it up before handing over the game pieces to Gareth.
A shout came from the cluster of boys who huddled on the ground, drawing the page’s attention again. He looked longingly at them.
“Go now, and tell your master that we await for him here.”
Without waiting for the boy’s response, Gareth turned and steered Clarisse to a vacant spot at the end of the table.
“How did you know that he had dice in his pouch?” she asked as she sat down on the wooden bench.
“When I was in training, every page that I knew carried a set.” Gareth shrugged. “I assume that things haven’t changed that much over the years.” He sat down beside her. “We’ll play a game of Three Throws while we wait for Sir Hervey to arrive.” He handed her the game pieces. “Here, you go first.”
She picked up the dice and dropped them, the wooden pieces rolling on the table. Then it was his turn. By the time the first round ended, she was in the lead with a total score of eight.
“It appears that I am winning,” she said, a dimple appearing at the side of her cheek. His gaze lingered on her smiling lips, but she was too occupied to notice his focus. Grabbing the game pieces, she shook the dice vigorously between her palms. She then let the pieces loose on the table, her eyes and face flushed and shining with anticipation.
“A six!” she exclaimed.
“It may appear that you’re ahead, but the game isn’t over yet,” he said, amused. Her excitement was contagious, and for the first time in a long while, he felt pleasure gladdening his heart. Scooping up the dice, he shook them in his hand. “With this last toss, Lady Fortune may still favor me with a win. The Lady, you see, is forever changing her mind.” He dropped the dice on the table.
She watched carefully as the dice danced, bouncing into each other, and finally revealing their numbers. “A three,” she said, a mischievous smile flashing on her lips. “The Lady is still on my side.”
“And so she is.” He leaned back, allowing himself to really look at her. Clarisse had her elbows bent over the table, the heel of her hands underneath her chin as she waited for him to roll the game pieces. She seemed to have forgotten about the drama that played out just hours before. But Gareth remembered all too well the uproar that her disappearance had caused. He knew that once Hervey received the news that Clarisse waited for him in the great hall, he would come quickly. But Gareth loathed to remind her of this fact.
But it was only a few minutes later, an expected disturbance at the hall’s entrance caught his attention.
“Your lover has arrived,” Gareth said quietly.
“My lover?” she asked, a small crease forming between her eyes. “I do not —” But then she stopped herself as she realized to whom he was referring.
She looked at him, her eyes wide. But she didn’t turn her head. It was almost as if she feared to have a visual confirmation that Hervey was indeed headed their way.
“He is not my lover,” she said, her lips white. The joy and lightheartedness that he witnessed just minutes ago was definitely gone.
“All right, your suitor then. He is approaching with one of his men, and his page too,” he added.
The page spotted them and pointed in their direction. Hervey frowned fiercely and walked toward them. Each step he took was forceful and menacing, a sure indication of his barely contained fury.
“Does he seem very angry?” she asked. The hand that held the dice trembled slightly, and she clenched her fist to stop it from trembling. Gareth opened his mouth to answer her when she shook her head. “Nay, do not tell me. Perhaps I should have gone to the solar after all,” she said, her voice full of regret. She carefully placed the dice on the table, both of her hands covering the game pieces. “However ‘tis too late now.”
“We can still leave —” Gareth began.
“What is happening here?” Hervey demanded, his voice cutting across the great hall.
Clarisse turned her head along with everyone else and stared at the knight.
“There is nothing happening,” Gareth said, standing up. “’Tis only a game that we were playing.”
The few people in the great hall watched the exchange with open curiosity, as if they were glad to witness another form of entertainment before the next repast.
In a few short steps, he and his companions crossed the hall and were upon them.
“I despise games.” Hervey drew back his lips and all but snarled.
“Then ‘tis fortunate that you’re not playing Three Throws with us,” Gareth said casually.
He stared at Gareth, the pupils of his eyes constricted to tiny pinpricks. “Who is this man?” he asked, his teeth clenched.
“I didn’t ask for his name,” his page began.
As if he didn’t hear his attendant, he continued to stare at Gareth. “Why was I not immediately informed when Lady Clarisse was found?”
Gareth went to stand in front of Clarisse, folding his arms across his chest. “I sent your page after you, did I not? If he did not run fast enough to you give you the message, then ‘twas not my fault.”
He heard Clarisse let out a loud sigh from behind him. She came to stand beside him.
“This is Sir Gareth de Mowbrey,” she said, her voice trembling slightly, although she held her ground. “He is a friend of Sir Derrik d’Evant, and mine as well.”
“Sir Gareth de Mowbrey,” Hervey repeated, almost spitting out the name. With open disdain, he inspected Gareth from his head down to his toes. “I’ve heard of you. You’re that disgraced knight that threw away his life to avenge his brother.” He peered at Gareth and then finding the truth on his face, he looked down the length of his nose and sneered. “How does it feel to be exiled, and forever declared a fallen knight?”
“You would do well to keep your comments to yourself,” Gareth said calmly even as he felt his shoulders tighten. The contempt in the other man’s tone was evident, and he clenched his hands into tight balls, desiring to wipe that sneer away with his fists. In another time and place, he would have done it too, but there was a lady present. And then there was the fact that he didn’t want to ruin his friend’s wedding celebrations by killing this fool.
Hervey’s nostrils flared, and he looked like he might have said more, but he suddenly seemed aware that they were at the center of attention. The two men were the same height and were evenly matched. His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward. “Are you threatening me?”
“If you feel threatened, then that is your problem.” Gareth said.
Hervey locked gazes with Gareth; they assessed one another as if they were mortal enemies.
“I do not care who you are,” he said finally, a dark shadow passing over his handsome visage. “Do not mettle in my affairs.”
Clarisse held her breath as she watched Gareth stare back at her suitor, their assessment of each other silent and cool.
“Sir Gareth has nothing to do with my disappearance, sire,” she said, trying to break through the tension. She looked nervously from one man to the other. “I had gone to speak with the cook. I did not think that my absence would cause so much trouble.”
“It appears that you don’t think at all.” Hervey turned his glacial gaze at her.
“Aye, sire,” she said, blinking at him. Unconsciously she moved closer to Gareth. “’Twas true that I did not think this through.”
“I suggest that you rein in the search party,” Gareth said. Then turning to Clarisse, he inclined his head. “I will take you to the solar now, my lady. I’m certain that your parents are worried about your safety.”
“Aye, that is a good idea.” A look of relief crossed her face.
“We will speak again, Clarisse,” Hervey said, his words sounding almost like a threat.
As they left, he could feel Hervey’s glare boring a heated hole into his back. There was violence in that man, and for some reason, he wanted to shield her from it.
Chapter 12
“My ladies, the search is finished,” Gareth announced at the door of the solar. “Lady Clarisse is found safe.”
Clarisse reluctantly stepped out from behind him. She had tried to delay the inevitable as much as possible, but now she had no choice but to deal with the aftermath. There were about a dozen women in the room. Lady Edeline sat with her sister, reading while Amelie, and three other women stitched patterns on their embroidery hoops. Still more women were engaged in a game of cards.
At the sound of Gareth’s voice, the chattering stopped, and all the occupants paused to look over at him. When they saw him standing at the door, the women began to murmur amongst themselves.
“I was speaking with the servants in the castle kitchen,” Clarisse said, hoping against all hope that everyone would believe in her fib.
“The castle kitchen?” Lady Chantal asked, astonished. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “You were there all this time?”
“Aye — nay, I was waiting for Sir Hervey to call off the search party,” she said, a small flush blooming at her cheeks.
Her mother compressed her lips into a thin white, angry line. “A search party should not have been assembled in the first place.”
Everyone watched their exchange, although no one said a word. She wished that the forest pixies would suddenly appear and whisk her away. Alas, that was unlikely to happen except in fables, so she was forced to contend with her dilemma. Unfortunately she didn’t know where to start.
Gareth gave her a sympathetic glance, and she was glad that he lingered. However once he was gone, she would have to face her parents on her own.
Lady Edeline got up from her stool and looked over at the women in the room. “Come, my ladies,” she said, “Let us grant my sister and her husband a moment with their daughter.”
“My lord father is here?” Clarisse squeaked. A streak of fear ran through her as she saw the lone figure by the window for the first time. It was true that this was the women’s solar and not many men ventured here, but her father’s form was unmistakable, even in its weakened state. How did she fail to notice his presence? She could deal with her mother’s hysterics, but her father’s disapproving gaze was an altogether different matter.
“Aye, let us leave them to their privacy,” Amelie said, getting up from her stool. She stuck her needle into the embroidery hoop and set it aside. The other women, including Edith, murmured their agreement, and one by one, they gathered up their things and filed out of the room.
As her nursemaid passed her, she squeezed her arm. “All will be well, my lady,” she whispered. “I shall wait for you in your bedchamber.”
Even though her nursemaid meant well, her words gave her little comfort. She stood as still as she could, her head bowed low, her hair hanging forward. She already knew what she
would find if she looked up and saw the expressions on the faces of her parents.
The door closed behind her with a dull thud.
“How could you do this to us, Clarisse?” her mother asked, her voice ringing in the small room. “You had the entire castle looking for you, and all this time you were dallying in the kitchen! How could you go, and embarrass us yet again?” She brought both palms to her reddened cheeks. “Did you see the look on the faces of those women? They will now go to their husbands, and spread tales about what an unruly and ungrateful daughter that I have.”
“I am sorry you feel that way, my lady.” Clarisse stared at the cracks on the stone floor. If she had the means to disappear, she would have done it long ago.
“The bigger question is: what will Sir Hervey think about your latest antic?” her father asked, his voice wheezy, although there was still a hard edge to his words. “If I were him, I would certainly not be impressed.”
A silence filled the solar, since no one had an answer to his question.
“Will the damage be irreparable, Theobald?” her mother asked tiredly, pressing the palm of her hand on her forehead.
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