"Ah. Despite your words, you sound like a woman who loved her husband very much. Did you know him long, or did your father arrange your marriage with a stranger?"
"My father left the choice to me. He trusted my judgment, you see. David and I knew each other as children. I loved him all my life, and I will never love another."
The queen's expression became clouded for a moment, as if she knew something was to happen. She smiled once more and patted Ellen's hand. “You are still young. One day you will learn to love again, and marry.” Isabella turned her attention to the questioning nobleman sitting to her husband's right, leaving the young widow to fend for herself among strangers.
What can she know of lost love? She is barely free of her childhood, and she offers me her wisdom on loving again? Ellen knew her thoughts were uncharitable, but being summoned to court and put on display at the king's table made her most uncomfortable and angry.
Ellen studied her surroundings, committing them to memory. She did not want to be here, but neither did she wish to squander the experience. The guests were dressed in bright colors, silks and satins, velvets and brocades. They reminded her of birds with gaily colored plummage. They also chattered like magpies. Ellen found the excessive noise offensive and wished she could have supped in her room. She wanted no part of this charade. If Gordon were here, he would know what to do, but Gordon would never have the opportunity to sit at a king's table, never be able to trade tales with other young knights. She shoved the thought away. Her brother was not dead. Something had happened to him and David, but they were not dead. She refused to believe it.
She pushed the plate about in front of her, moving it slightly so it was out of line with the others. A line of cooks and serving maids demanded her attention as they brought forth platters heaped with all sorts of food. Ellen's stomach rumbled softly, at war with her mind, which emphatically stated she was not hungry.
Torches burned erratically, a draft teasing at the flames, as smoke added to the soot stains on the walls behind them. Musicians wandered about, playing softly. Ellen wondered how anyone could hear them above the grating voices. She turned her attention to the hall entrance, where there seemed to be a disturbance of sorts, but was quickly settled.
"Forgive me for being late, my lady. I was unforgivably delayed. Had I known you were waiting patiently for me, I would have hurried away from my business."
Ellen stiffened at the familiar voice near her ear, but did not want to believe. She turned slowly, hoping it was nothing more than her imagination. “What are you doing here?"
"Why, dining with you, my sweet. King John has been gracious in partnering us for the time we are here. Did you think he looks on you with special favor?"v
"I do not know why I am sitting here, at his table, when I would prefer to be in Ravencliff with my family."
"You are here, because he has given me leave to court you.” Nicholas held up one hand to stop her from saying anything, then took her hand in his and kissed it. “He does not recognize your so called marriage to that heathen Scot. Before the year is out, my dear, Ellen. You will be my wife, and no one will dare interfere."
Nicholas turned to the platter in the middle of the table, then used his dirk to stab a piece of venison. “Would you like a morsel, my sweet? No? Pity.” He bit the meat and chewed it, thoughtfully. Nicholas glanced at Ellen's whitened face and burst into laughter.
Ellen seethed with anger and began to rise from her seat, only to have Nicholas grip her arm and hold her in place. She sat down again, and glanced about, hoping no one was paying any attention to her. When Nicholas released her arm, she casually rubbed the spot, sure he must have left bruises. How was she going to get out of this mess?
She was used to being allowed to make her own decisions, asking for guidance when she needed it. Nicholas never did approve of permitting a female to make her own decisions, and now he fully intended to see to it that right taken from her. He reminded her too much of Father Bernard. She half expected the priest to be hiding close by. She was tempted to peek under the table to see if he lurked there, and started to lean as if to take a quick look, but thought better of it. How was she going to avoid Nicholas if the king had given his permission, allowing him to court her? Ideas flooded her mind. Perhaps Stephen could help her.
Nicholas interrupted her scheming. “You see, my dear Ellen. With your brother gone, your father has no heir, except through you. I fully intend to be the next to control Ravencliff. King John has promised it to me. I shall be as kind to your family as they were to me when I fostered there."
"What do you know of my brother?"
Nicholas chuckled. “Did you think the king would not tell me of your brother's death? It is perhaps, an unfortunate circumstance for you, but will benefit me greatly. Do not think to go to your father for help, for there is nothing he can do. King John has given me his word. I will have you and Ravencliff."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Ellen paced the floor of the small room, feeling much like a caged animal. The other women had left to break their fast, and Kitty had returned for a few moments, bringing with her two rolls and a piece of cheese. Even for a king's hall, breakfast was a very simple affair. Ellen rather missed the porridge served for breakfast every morning in Scotland. The Scottish breakfast had been simple, but was heartier than this bread and cheese.
She pushed away thoughts of the home that had been hers for a short time, but would never know again. Did David's death not cancel out the vow she had made never to return there? Foolish girl. Dead or not, there is no longer a reason to even think about returning to Scotland. Her one slender tie to that country was gone, torn away in some foolish battle, or so others would have her believe. A battle to protect one's home can not be considered foolish. But why did it cause David to send me back to England? And why was Muriel not sent back as well? Can a man-at-arms better protect his wife than a nobleman?
Ellen realized there were too many questions begging for answers. Better to consider the present and the untenable situation she now found herself in. How could she avoid Nicholas? His presence offended her, and he thought he would court her? What about her year of mourning? Was she not entitled to that time, if not for her husband, at least for her brother? Would King John make a mockery of this time for her? If the rumors were true, the king might be many things, but surely he would not intrude upon a family's grief before their year was past.
* * * *
Ellen's face brightened. Searching through one of her trunks, which were stacked in a corner, she pulled out her boy's attire, and quickly changed her clothes. Rather than pulling a gown on over the rough clothing, she brought out a cloak and wrapped it around her body, tugging the large hood over her eyes to hide her face. Ellen opened the door slightly and peered into the corridor. A servant turned a corner and disappeared down a flight of stairs at the far end of the hall. Laughter echoed off the walls and she saw a young woman hanging on to the arm of an older man. Ellen recognized one of her room mates, and quickly drew back out of sight. She shook her head and thought it was rather early in the day for an assignation.
Their footsteps passed her by, then Ellen peeked out the door again. The corridor was clear. She opened the door a little wider, then stepped out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind her. If she could escape the palace without being caught, she knew where she could go.
Ellen found Stephen busy in the stables, grooming the Ravencliff horses. “Stephen, saddle up two horses, quickly."
The hunter turned quickly at the half-whispered words and held up the edge of the hood to get a better look at the face hidden in shadow. “What are you doing here, Lady Ellen?"
"Shh,” she warned sharply. “I wish to ride out of this place for a few hours."
"Are you into mischief so soon?” he laughed.
"Please, Stephen. I will explain when we are gone from here."
"Does your father know?"
"No, but he will understand when he finds
out.” Ellen glanced around. They were alone for the moment. She watched Stephen saddle two horses, and fervently wished he would hurry. If Nicholas knew she were here, he would see to it a close watch was kept on her. Once he knew she had ridden off for a few hours, he would most likely try to have her confined, for ‘her own safety'. Ellen was fairly sure of the excuses he would undoubtedly invent to control her, but she preferred to face a band of outlaws rather than be confined to a crowded bedchamber, like some criminal.
"Are you so unhappy after only one day in the king's house? I would have thought you would see this as a great adventure."
Ellen turned a black look on him, from the shadows of her hood.
"'Tis not the king's house that makes me unhappy, but the company he keeps.” Ellen stared straight ahead and kept too tight a grip on her mare's reins. “I do admit, I would much prefer to be home in Ravencliff, than remain here with the king's favorites."
"Forgive me, Ellen, I did not mean to make light of the situation. I know this is a trying time for you and your family.” Stephen gave her a quick look, then let her led the way out the courtyard.
Ellen waited until they had put some distance between themselves and Windsor Castle. “Nicholas has been granted permission to court me. King John does not recognize my marriage to a ‘heathen’ Scot. He would have terminated the marriage himself, had David not been so considerate as to get himself killed in battle.” Her words dripped with bitterness.
"I thought you were done with David when you left Scotland."
"As did I. I do not know, Stephen. Circumstances have left me so confused, I am not sure how I feel about him. I am his widow, but the king says nay. He would also interfere in my mourning time for my brother. I wish to heaven we had not been summoned to Windsor. My life is no longer my own. Now I am at the mercy of a king whose whim is being manipulated by a ... by a...” Ellen sighed. “I can not find the words to adequately express how I feel.” She struck the saddle's pommel with the side of her fist, making her frustration evident.
Stephen chuckled. “You seem to be doing well, my lady.” He hesitated a moment, then continued. “If you should need my help, you have only to ask."
"I intend to. I wish to stay away from the castle as much as possible. The less I see of Nicholas, the better I feel about it. Of course, I shall have to speak to my family so they will not worry about my disappearances.” Ellen looked up at Stephen, pushing her hood back a bit. “Perhaps we can use the time to continue our lessons?” She was hopeful he would agree.
Stephen smiled at the young woman. “Perhaps we can, my lady. We are in a strange land, at least this part of England is unfamiliar to us. It could provide some new lessons."
"My horse is in sore need of a good run.” She looked up at her companion, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Shall we?” She flicked the end of the reins against her mare's withers, sending the horse into a gallop. Ellen glanced over her shoulder and laughed at Stephen. Catching him off guard was always fun.
Ellen's hood fell back as her laughter was lost to the wind. Strands of hair floated across her face, interfering with her vision. Determined to reach the forest, she gradually slowed the mare's pace to a walk, and waited for Stephen to join her.
"What do you hear?” he asked, as his gelding stopped beside her mare.
Ellen looked up into the trees, admiring the young green leaves. She urged her horse into the forest and made her way between the thickly grown trees. When they were completely surrounded, she stopped and looked around again. A sense of peace overcame her and she smiled. “I hear the silence."
"What else do you hear?"
Ellen cocked her head and listened carefully. “I hear someone approaching. They are trying to walk softly, but their steps fall heavily, as it they were tired. There may be more than one person."
Stephen nodded approval, then quickly drew a dagger as the sounds came closer. He relaxed when he saw two men approach. “It has been a long time, John,” he called out. “What brings you to this part of England?"
Ellen stared in wonder at the bear of a man who stood before them. She glanced at his companion, who was shorter, and leaned heavily on a wooden staff. The bigger man must have been close to seven feet tall. He was huge through the shoulders and had thick arms. Beefy hands held a long bow with a nocked arrow. His hair and beard were shaggy and gray. Lines creased the corners of his still sharp dark eyes, and the rest of his weathered face. He made Ellen a little nervous as he looked from her to Stephen, and back again.
"Ho, Stephen. Been long time we ha’ bumped heads. Not since—” The man let out a bellow of pain, as his companion thumped him with his heavy staff. He glared at the smaller man.
"Only one man, have I heard of in all England to match your size,” Ellen finally said as the words rushed from her lips.
She realized she had said too much when Stephen gave her a sharp look. The men continued their conversation, while Ellen feigned disinterest and gave her attention over to her surroundings. A short time later, the big man and his silent companion ambled away, disappearing around a turn in the woods.
"Say nothing,” Stephen advised. “Some words are better left unspoken.” He headed in the opposite direction of the strangers.
Ellen followed silently, keeping her mount to a leisurely pace. This ride, had improved her mood and provided her with some unexpected adventure. The thought of returning to the castle was one she cared not to linger on.
Stephen spent the rest of the morning teaching her a few new tricks in tracking. Ellen embraced the lessons with enthusiasm. If only she could return home, and lead the same sort of life she had before she married David. She valued the freedom her father had allowed her; it was the kind of freedom denied to most women. If her marriage had survived, would David have been like her father, or would he have tried to tame her? It was a useless exercise to think on it now, for she would never know.
* * * *
By the time they returned to Windsor, Ellen's mood was a good deal more cheerful then it had been earlier in the morning. Her heart was lighter, and she knew, somehow, her brother Gordon was still with her, and always would be. She felt a sense of peace as she peeked around corners to be sure the corridors were clear. Everyone should be in the hall below stairs partaking of the noon meal. Ellen was too happy to worry about eating. After she changed into appropriate clothing, she would seek out her father and tell him what was going on. She did not want him worrying over her disappearances. In fact, she thought, mayhap her family could help cover her absences with one excuse or another—anything to avoid Nicholas.
A young page, no more than ten or twelve years of age, waited impatiently in the corridor, then bowed at Ellen's approach. Ellen self-consciously held the ends of her cloak together. It would never do now, to start new gossip. She waited a moment for him to speak, wondering why he would seek her out.
"Lady Ellen?” he asked politely.
"Yes.” Her reply was cautious. Why would anyone be seeking her out? Unless...
"His Majesty wished me to tell you, that you, Lady Katherine and Lady Margaret have been assigned to another room. He hopes the three of you will find it more comfortable. He bid me show you to your new quarters."
"Thank you, kind sir,” she smiled and gestured for him to lead the way.
"Your personal belongings have already been sent on,” he assured her, then led the way down the corridor and took a turn into another narrow hall. At the far end he pushed a door open and stood aside as she cautiously entered.
The room was a little larger than the one she had just left, but the far corner was cast in deep shadow. Ellen had the strange feeling someone was here, but shook it off.
"This room is to be yours. Lady Margaret and Lady Katherine will be sharing the adjoining room."
"There must be some mistake..."
"No mistake, my lady. It is as the king wishes."
"Then I must thank the king for his kindness.” Ellen followed the boy back to the
corridor, then surreptitiously reached into the small purse at her belt and withdrew a coin for the page. “And thank you for your help, young sir.” Why would the king be so generous now?
The page looked at the coin with surprise and gave her a wide smile of thanks, before running off.
Ellen felt a twinge of guilt, that her aunt and sister should be sharing another room while she had this one to herself; it made no sense. Her thoughts drifted back to the more immediate problem of her family helping her evade Nicholas’ attention. Thinking about her family doing this for her, filled her again with a sense of guilt, but at the same time, she knew they shared her distrust of the Earl of Fair Haven. Ellen darted into her room. She quickly shut the door, then leaned against it and let out a sigh of relief. If the page had noticed anything unusual, he showed no sign.
The room lay in shadow, and she waited a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimness. She tossed her cloak onto the bed and looked about for her black gown. She had left it on the top of her clothes chest, but it was not there. Mayhap it had been misplaced when the chests were moved. Where could it have been placed? She glanced back at the small bed in the corner of the room. The gown was nowhere to be seen. If someone had decided to play a trick on her, she would be quick to repay them in kind. She peeked under the bed, where only a thick layer of dirt hid. This was her only black dress until she could have another made. The castle seamstress was busy, making gowns for the other ladies. Her mourning dress would have to wait.
"Is this what you seek?” A voice came out of the shadows, and something hit her in the face. Her dress.
"Did you think I would not find out about your little excursion beyond the castle wall?"
"How did you get in here?” Ellen knew it was a foolish question, the moment it passed her lips. She would have to be more careful next time.
To Every Love, There is a Season Page 15