“I will treasure this with my life.” He took my hand and kissed each finger separately.
My cheeks burned, for it reminded me of a gesture Richard had made when he’d come courting. Why was I being so foolish? My embarrassment was sure to set tongues wagging.
Blaybourne nodded to the marshal, who came beside him and whispered something. The marshal signaled to the men from the garrison, and they departed in the direction of the castle. Then Blaybourne turned to the others watching. “Which of you ladies would like to try your hand at archery?”
Isabel went first, but she needed no instruction.
“How deft she is,” remarked Margaret. “I’d no idea she was so talented.”
Then he bowed and asked Margaret to try.
“I don’t know if I should at my age.”
“My lady, you are not old,” he said, “and it will do you good.”
He handed her his gloves and tied a leather arm guard on each arm.
Margaret drew. The arrow hit the ground in front of her with a thud.
“Try to look up, my lady. And pull to your ear.”
This time the arrow whistled off and landed several yards away.
The ladies clapped, but Margaret, breathing heavily, handed the bow and gloves back to the archer.
“I do not wish to tempt fate,” she said smiling. “Let the others try.”
Lisette went next. Turning her head sideways, she gazed up at him through her lashes while he gave instructions.
“Lisette,” murmured Margaret.
The arrow flew but landed only a yard or so away.
“Oh dear,” remarked Lisette. “I don’t feel very stable. Perhaps if you were to steady my arm?”
She gazed at him and crumpled to the ground.
I took a linen napkin from a servant to wipe her face, which was now beaded in sweat.
Margaret knelt beside her and gently unlaced her red gown.
Bess laid a hand on her cheek. “She seems feverish. We should take her inside.”
Lisette opened her eyes. “I don’t wish to go.”
“You’re not well,” said Margaret.
“I shall take her back to the castle,” said Isabel.
She signaled to the servants, who helped Lisette to her feet and divested her of the gloves, arm-guards and bow he had given her. They placed her in a litter and took her back to the castle.
Margaret and Isabel followed.
I remained with Bess and Blaybourne, looking at the retreating figures, when Bess said, “I have always wanted to try my hand at archery. May I?”
“Of course, my lady,” he said. He tied the leather arm-guards on, handed her his gloves, and gave her his bow.
I felt suddenly weary, so I sat down under the oak tree and closed my eyes.
I must have gone out for a moment, for I came to with a start when he called out, “Perfect, my lady. You will be a fine archeress one day.”
“With such an excellent teacher, how could I help that?” Bess replied laughing.
He was silent.
I rose and signaled to the servants to offer them some refreshments.
“I wondered where you were, my lady, I thought perhaps you’d gone,” he said.
“I was seeing about the refreshments. Would you like something? Bess? It is a hot afternoon, and shooting arrows must be tiring work.”
“No thank you,” said Bess as she gave the gloves, arm-guards, and bow back to him. “I will go and see if Margaret needs my help.”
She disappeared in the direction of the castle.
“Do we need the servants here, my lady?”
I looked at him for a long moment. I knew I shouldn’t be alone with him, but—
“Perhaps not,” I murmured and beckoned to the steward.
Soon the servants were disappearing down the path to the castle. A breeze stirred and a bird trilled an arpeggio. We were completely alone.
He touched my arm. “And now it is your turn, Cecylee.”
My head jerked up.
Our gaze held. Then he handed me the bow and the finger-tabs and tied the arm-guards on.
I lifted the bow, drew the string back, and aimed. But my first shot fell in front of my feet.
He came closer and, standing just behind me, put his hands on mine. His hands burned into my skin, yet gave me strength.
“It’s like this,” he murmured softly. “You look up, not down, you draw back as far as you can, and then—”
“You take the consequences?”
“Exactly,” he said, as I fired off a shot that landed several yards away, right in the middle of the painted board that had been chosen as the target.
“That was excellent, Cecylee.”
He was so close that I could inhale the spicy scent and feel his body just touching my back. Now, I felt his breath on my cheek. One step more, and he cradled me in his arms. Ignoring my pounding heart, I fired off another shot.
It landed in the ground several yards away.
“Should we continue?” he murmured, brushing my cheek with a butterfly kiss.
I gave him the bow.
“I must stop now.”
He kissed my cheek again and squeezed me gently.
“You’re not angry with me?”
“No. But this is unwise.”
“Indeed it is. But I’ve longed for this moment, ever since I first saw you.”
His eyes were like a clear pool that refreshed my soul. “I feel so drawn to you,” he said. “I tried to keep away but I could not.”
“You make me feel as if I’ve come home,” I replied.
Our lips met in a kiss.
I melted. Then I pulled back.
“I must go.” I took off the finger tabs and arm-guards, handed them to him, and turned.
He put a hand on my arm.
I gazed into his eyes, my cheeks warming.
“I must go.”
I turned on my heel and forced myself to walk away, feeling his gaze scorching into my back with every step that I took.
Chapter 8
Feast of Saint Clare
August 12, 1441
Lisette’s illness continued, and after ten days, we needed more medicine.
I could have sent a servant to the Abbey of Saint-Ouen, but I was longing for fresh air. I should have gone with an escort, for Richard had enjoined me never to ride abroad without protection. But I was tired of being surrounded by various people. Bess agreed to accompany me, and so, leaving Lisette in the care of Margaret and Isabel, we set off early one morning just after dawn while it was cool.
As we came into the courtyard where our horses waited, a tall figure detached itself from the shadows and came forward. Bess gasped and clutched at my arm, but as soon as the light fell on the figure she relaxed into a smile.
“Ladies,” Blaybourne called, bowing low. “What brings you out so early?”
“Lisette is not well,” replied Bess going up to him. “She continues feverish, and we are riding off to the Abbey of Saint-Ouen to get fresh medicines.”
“Allow me to escort you,” said Blaybourne. He looked at me.
I opened my mouth to decline, but Bess assented.
Blaybourne helped us onto our horses, vaulted onto his white gelding, and we set off.
It was a glorious morning, the air was fresh and cool, the meadows a riot of flowers, with blue cornflowers, pink heather, and yellow meadow-rue. The trees were thickly leaved, and their leaves rustled as we rode past. I held back so that I rode behind Blaybourne and Bess. They spent the entire journey riding side by side, chattering amiably.
I remained silent. I spent ten days devoting myself to Lisette, amusing the children, and playing the gracious hostess to the merchants and aristocrats passing through Rouen, wanting to visit with the governor of Normandy’s wife. I expended an enormous effort on keeping my mind off the one thing that kept powerfully drawing me towards it, like a lodestone: my feelings for Blaybourne.
Blaybourne meant many th
ings to me. For one, he was a pleasure to look at. Now he sat gracefully on his gelding, using subtle motions of his long fingers to guide it. Everything he did had a kind of ease and charm, so different from Richard. Richard rarely vaulted onto his horse, for he was becoming stout and often needed his groom to help him up.
Then he was so well tuned to me, he seemed able to read my thoughts before I was aware of having them. I remembered his kindness and sensitivity at the archery tournament, when my fiery blushes had given me away. Every time we talked, our interactions were like a duet, alternating effortlessly with perfect timing, without one having to wait for the other to catch up. With Richard, I had always to remember to be patient, for he ran at a slower speed.
Most alarming of all, I felt the stirrings of something I didn’t even know I could feel. It made my affection for Richard seem pallid by comparison. I didn’t understand it. How could I feel so passionate about someone I scarcely knew?
And there he was, riding a few feet in front of me, being courteously gallant to Bess. Yet Bess did not seem to be making much progress. She was trying hard enough, telling amusing stories, and little morsels of gossip, but Blaybourne seemed distracted, sometimes asking her to repeat things, sometimes not getting her jests.
I sighed. How was I going to make him go away? And what had he been doing in the courtyard at that hour? Had he been waiting for someone? Had he been waiting for me? At that thought, my heart leapt in my throat and started thudding. What was wrong? I never felt this disquieted. I was noted for being serene, yet every time I thought about Blaybourne, my heart interrupted.
I was in such a brown study I didn’t notice how far we’d come until Bess pulled on my bridle.
“Cecylee!” she exclaimed. “We’re here. Do you not see that?”
I pulled myself out of my thoughts with an effort and attempted to smile, although I felt more like weeping.
Blaybourne walked up to me, frowning. “You look pale, my lady. Perhaps you should sit under this horse chestnut. It provides a goodly shade, and I will get you some refreshment.”
This was the last thing I wanted, but conflicting thoughts and feelings left me dumbstruck. I looked at Bess in silent appeal, sure that she wouldn’t want to leave me alone with the attractive young man she’d been cultivating for the last half-hour.
But Bess jumped down and said, “I’ll get the medicines then.” And blowing me a kiss, she disappeared.
I set my mouth grimly as Blaybourne helped me down, willing myself not to notice how it felt to be in his arms. I wandered over to the bench and sat down, examining the patch of dusty ground beneath my feet, each blade of grass, the marks on my boots, the white dust dredging the hem of my gown. At length, Blaybourne returned bearing a tray of cider with pastries warm from the oven. The aroma of those pastries was so seductive, I could not help looking up.
It was a mistake.
Blaybourne’s eyes were warm, soft, and deep. His mouth curved into a tender smile.
My heart resumed its hammering.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t feel well. I should’ve let Bess come by herself.”
“But then I would have missed seeing you,” he remarked, as he set the tray down and handed me a cup of cider. “Or is that what you are trying to say?”
“Just what were you doing in the castle courtyard at that hour?”
“Waiting for you. What else could I possibly have been doing?”
“You could have been doing any of a number of things.” I lowered my lashes and sipped my cider. Finally, I looked into his face.
His eyes were warm, and his mouth curved into its gentle smile.
I smiled back.
He leaned over and kissed me on the lips, a long, luxurious, and increasingly passionate kiss. “My sweet,” he murmured. “You know very well I can’t keep away from you. I’ve been waiting for more than a week for you to appear.”
“What about Bess?”
He caressed my cheek with a long finger. The sensation made me tingle all over. “No, the question is, do I mean anything to you?”
“You mean the whole world to me. I’ve been miserable without you.”
He held me close, brushing my hair and cheeks with his lips. “Would you meet me in the garden this evening, around compline? It’ll be quieter then, and we can spend some precious moments together.”
“I’ll be there,” I promised as he kissed every finger of my hand, front and back.
“I’m the happiest man in the world,” he murmured, and then Bess appeared.
Blaybourne rose to help her with her packages. As before, I hung back so Blaybourne and Bess again rode side-by-side, chatting. I had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, as if a large piece of lead had lodged itself there. I could hardly believe I was taking such a risk. And what of Blaybourne and the risk he was taking? He was a good archer, but could he fight with a sword? Richard was an excellent swordsman—
My mind veered off into these depths as I attempted to keep my horse from wandering off the track.
Eventually we reached the castle, and Blaybourne helped Bess down and summoned a servant to look after her packages.
Then he came for me.
He slowly led my horse into a secluded nook between the stables and the gardens, and gently he carried me in his arms as he lifted me down off my horse. We lingered.
Reluctantly, I pulled away. “I must go.” I gave him one final kiss.
“I’ll be in the garden, my love, at compline.”
“By the fountain?”
“By the fountain.” And clasping his hand one last time, I flew across the courtyard and up the stairs, tearing myself away from him.
As I entered my chamber, Jenet rose and curtseyed. She was now around thirty, but looked as slender as she had at fourteen. Her black eyes grazed me, intense and direct.
“My lady, whatever has happened?”
I blushed.
“An attractive young man?”
“Really, Jenet! What has happened to you? You used to be as quiet as a mouse.”
Jenet busied herself in unpinning my veil and removing my headdress.
“I beg your pardon, my lady. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that I’ve never seen you look so radiant.”
“You never used to be so lively and so free with your opinions when Audrey was around.”
“If you remember, my lady, Audrey loved to talk. It was difficult to get a word in edgewise.” She brushed my hair. “I miss my aunt and your lady mother. It is hard to believe they are no longer here.”
After Mama died nine months ago at her manor of Howden-le-Wear, near Castle Raby, Audrey was soon dead herself.
“Audrey was devoted to Mama,” I said slowly, stumbling through thoughts as Jenet's fingers worked at my hair. “She was her best friend and confidante. She nursed her through all her pregnancies and comforted her when Alainor was snatched away as a child-bride. I remember Mama saying once that she didn’t know what she would’ve done without Audrey.”
“And your lady mother was so kind to my aunt,” said Jenet. “She allowed her to stay on, even though she had a child out of wedlock. She saw to it that he was trained as a cook, so that he could work in the castle kitchens.”
An image of Perrequin’s elaborate sugar sculptures filled my head. He’d made two of them the day of my betrothal.
There was a pause while Jenet braided my hair into plaits and fashioned them into an elaborate hairdo.
“What did the young gentleman say?”
“It has nothing to do with you.”
“Indeed it does, my lady.” She paused to look into my face.
I lowered my lashes and set my mouth into a line.
Jenet sighed. “He didn’t make any suggestions—”
My lashes flew up as my cheeks warmed.
Jenet’s mouth opened.
I turned away and studied my jewels.
“My lady, I know I am bold for saying this, but you plunge h
eadlong into things—”
“Have you ever been in love?”
“My lady—”
“I am powerless—”
“But you’re not, my lady. Don’t go to him. He doesn’t have anything to lose. You do.”
I glared.
“I heard a story this very morning,” said Jenet. “I was breaking my fast in the kitchens when a traveler told me a story about an Italian count who murdered his lady wife after he found her in bed with a lover. Chopped off her head, he did—”
“My lord would never do something like that!”
“Of course not, my lady,” said Jenet, gently turning my head so that she could continue making the hairdo. “I never meant to suggest so. But—”
“We will talk no more of this,” I said.
And I kept silence while Jenet finished dressing my hair, washed my face and hands in rosewater, and arrayed me in a richly embroidered green silk dress.
During the rest of that long, hot day, I kept to my seat in the solar next to Isabel as I sewed the children’s clothes. My needle flew with an eerie energy as I embroidered flowers, made buttonholes, and ran up hems and seams.
The time for compline came and went.
I heard laughter coming from the garden below, and looking down, saw Lisette with Blaybourne. I blinked. I hadn’t known Lisette was well enough to get up. When Margaret flew to her side, trying to convince her to return to her room, I understood.
Lisette put her hand on Blaybourne’s sleeve. “It’s such a lovely evening, will you not walk?”
I did not hear his reply, but Lisette threw her head back, laughter bubbling up from her throat. Blowing him a kiss, she was escorted back into the castle by Margaret.
Without thinking, I got up and craned my head through the window.
Blaybourne raised his hand and beckoned.
I clutched at the heavy draperies.
“Is something wrong, Cecylee?” said Isabel. “You mustn’t let silly little Lisette get on your nerves. She’s not worth your time.”
I resumed my seat. “You are quite right,” I murmured when the door flew open and Lisette came in, supported by Margaret.
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