Seeing a Ghost - a Medieval Romance (The Sword of Glastonbury Series Book 13)

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Seeing a Ghost - a Medieval Romance (The Sword of Glastonbury Series Book 13) Page 7

by Lisa Shea


  “Hold on to the glass. Hold on to –”

  She gasped, and it took all her attention to keep the lens within her fingers. Suddenly it was as if the world around her had rearranged and become crisp. She could see the delicate shapes hanging in Joseph’s window. She could see the Templar uniform on the man riding past on his bay stallion. She could see the delicate pinholes in the lantern cover across the way.

  Joseph chuckled, turning to Mathilde. “At first, I didn’t warn people before letting them take that first look,” he explained. “Lost a number of lenses that way. Then I tried warning them, ‘Don’t drop the lens.’ It seems that having them repeat the word ‘drop’ over and over was counterproductive as well. This seems to be the phrasing that does the job.”

  Alicia continued to turn here and there, peering through her magical circle. “This is amazing!”

  Joseph put out his hand. “Here, give that one back to me.”

  Sharp pain lanced through Alicia’s heart, and it took all her will to put the circle back into Joseph’s hand. This new view of the world was so fresh and startling that she felt she could soak it in for hours.

  Joseph put that circle back into its spot and selected out another one. “Here, is this one better or worse?”

  Alicia was ready for the effect this time, and even so it took her breath away. The shimmers and smears of color resolved instantly into a delicate icicle hanging from a thread; into the cornflower-blue eyes of a child dancing by in the street. It took her a minute to remember she was supposed to be evaluating this experience. “I think it’s not as good,” she stated at last.

  “Hmmmm. How about this one?”

  The minutes flew by as Alicia tried one after the other, basking in the beauty of the world. She finally settled on the one which had the best combination of clarity and brightness. She sat back on the bench by the counter, gazing in contented bliss at the passers-by, at the row of candlesticks in the tinsmith’s shop, and anything else she could lay her eyes on.

  Mathilde was speaking. “… and add that lens to our tab.”

  Alicia looked up in surprise. “Wait! No, I couldn’t possibly accept. I’d need to talk with Benet, to see –”

  Mathilde waved a hand at her. “Nonsense, child. I handle the finances in our home, and the small amount for the lens is far worth the joy in Gilbert’s face at seeing his old friend. He’s been talking about nothing else ever since he received that message of your visit. He won’t talk of anything else for the next six months, believe me. Consider it a token of our thanks, that you helped bring him here.”

  Alicia turned the lens over in her hands, staring at it with joy. “I don’t know how to thank you”

  Mathilde grinned. “Maybe you could make it a regular trip you three take, to come up and see us.”

  “Absolutely,” agreed Alicia. “I think Benet would like that as well.”

  Joseph handed over a small, velvet bag with a draw-string. “Here you go, lass. And keep the glove. Take good care of your lens.”

  “Oh, I will,” promised Alicia.

  Joseph looked to Mathilde. “Shall I be seeing you all tomorrow night for dinner?”

  “Indeed you shall,” agreed Mathilde. “It all starts right at sundown!”

  He grinned. “Sundown it is. I’ll be in my best sapphire-blue tunic.”

  “I’m sure you will be dashing.” She turned to Alicia. “Come, lass, we best get home and feed the men some lunch. Otherwise they’ll waste away and forget about all else.”

  Alicia held her precious bag with both hands as they stepped out onto the cobblestone street. Half of her wanted to take the lens out and look at everything in sight, while the other half wanted to keep the precious object safely within its holder. Aiming to distract herself, she turned to Mathilde. “So are we to dine at Joseph’s house tomorrow evening?”

  Mathilde’s laughter echoed down the street. “What? Good Lord, no, lass. The man could burn water. He has got to be the worst cook in London.” She wiped at her eyes. “No, no, it’s a local Lord who is throwing a farewell party. Seems he’s heading out of the city soon. Gilbert and Joseph get invited due to the Lord’s appreciation for their artistry. When we let him know we had friends coming up from Canterbury, he graciously extended the invitation to you three as well.”

  Alicia flushed, looking down at her mint-green dress. It was certainly finer than anything she had ever owned back in Wales, but she knew that it was not nearly up to the level of many she’d seen even in Canterbury. She imagined that a Lord’s residence here in London must have a higher level of expectation all together.

  “Oh, I don’t know if I –”

  “Pshaw,” waved Mathilde before she could finish. “Not to worry. My daughter, Rohesia, is nearly ready to burst with her fourth child. She won’t be going with us – and she has a wall full of fine dresses. You, Ethelfleda, and she are all about the same size.” She grinned. “Well, you and your cousin are both about the size she deflates to when she’s in between children,” she amended. “That man of hers is the size of a bear, and the children seem to come out of her ready to walk. But in any case, I’m sure she’d be thrilled to have you two borrow a few of her dresses. We’ll go by tomorrow afternoon and you can see what you think.”

  Alicia opened her mouth to protest … then shut it again. She would not do anything to interfere with Benet’s precious time with his dear friend. If the two of them wanted to go out to dinner with this Lord, then she would go along and do what she could to make the evening a memorable one.

  Her grin grew as she fondled the velvet pouch in her hands.

  In the meantime, she had a lot of looking to do.

  Chapter 11

  Alicia’s heart pounded against her chest as she walked with Mathilde through the busy streets of London. Benet and Gilbert had barely noticed when the two women left after breakfast. The men were deep into a discussion of exactly which angle to hold an awl at when doing some sort of intricate edging work. Ethelfleda, of course, was knee-deep in kittens.

  Mathilde hooked her arm into Alicia’s with a smile. “It’s so nice having someone to spend time with. Gilbert is a wonderful man, but he can be very focused when he works on one of those projects. He decided to carve a dog-sized tiger one time, after hearing about the beasts from a pair of mercenaries. I barely saw him for three months!”

  Alicia stayed close at her side. Coming from a quiet village in Wales, she had thought Canterbury was a huge city full of a wealth of languages and peoples. But London was a complete level beyond that. There were exotic smells, unknown accents, and a whirl of colors and shapes that boggled her mind.

  A man walked by her with jet-black hair, and she turned to look after him. His nose was long and hooked; he had a scar across one cheek.

  She blinked.

  Mathilde looked at her. “Is something wrong, my dear?”

  A sense of wonder eased over Alicia. “Not too long ago, I would have sworn that was Dylan.”

  “That was the love you lost in the Crusades? I’m so sorry, my sweet. It seems that every third woman has lost a son, a husband, or a loved one in the Crusades. The fighting sucked away entire villages – entire regions. I’m just fortunate that my husband was a craftsman and never heeded that call.”

  Alicia looked down to her hands. “My Dylan was a craftsman, too. His family made candles. He could create the most exquisite designs you’ve ever seen. Layers of sapphire, crimson, and gold wax decorating along a pillar. It was a work of art.”

  Her eyes threatened to well with tears, and she brushed at them. “But, when the priest gave his sermon, Dylan knew where he had to be. He could not hide in a quiet village when God’s work needed to be done. So he went, and I vowed to be true to him until he returned to me.”

  Mathilde patted her arm. “We all make promises that life ruptures,” she murmured. “I’m sure your beloved died nobly.”

  Alicia nodded. “The messenger said he was slain doing God’s bidding.”
<
br />   Mathilde gave a gentle smile. “There is not a higher calling than that, my dear. We will light a candle in his memory. And I know he would want you to find fresh joy in your life.”

  Alicia drew in a breath, the idea filling her.

  Mathilde looked up. “Here we are! My daughter married a blacksmith, and they do all right for themselves.” She gave Alicia a wry grin. “Although, I’ll warn you, keeping the house neat is not one of Rohesia’s priorities.”

  Mathilde pushed open the door.

  Alicia laughed. Three young boys raced around the room, each wielding a wooden sword, screaming at the top of their lungs. A pair of hunting dogs sprawled in the middle of the room, quite at peace with the bedlam. There were toys and clothes spread in all corners of the room. And lounging on a sofa was a very round, very content woman with long, auburn hair.

  She waved a hand at her mother. “There you are! Boys – grandma has arrived.”

  There was a chorus of delighted shrieks and three small missiles went flying toward Mathilde, wrapping themselves around legs and arms. Mathilde dropped to a knee, warmly drawing in her grandsons. “There you are! Look at how you’ve grown! Yes, yes, I’ll play Templar Knight with you in a few minutes. I just have to head upstairs with my friend here, first.”

  Alicia looked to Rohesia. “Thank you again, so much, for the loan of the dresses.”

  Rohesia rubbed her swollen belly, giving a wry smile. “I’m glad to see them put to good use. It’ll be a while before I can fit in those again!” She looked fondly across her tumult of children. “And I don’t mind one bit. I would gladly wear tents every day, if it meant I could enjoy the laughter of my darlings.”

  Mathilde headed to the stairs. “You stay put. We can find our own way.” In a minute Alicia had followed her into a bedroom. The blankets were askew and the door to the wardrobe stood open, with clothes strewn about.

  Mathilde chuckled. “I did warn you.” She stepped over a pair of leggings and reached into the wardrobe. She emerged with four dresses draped over one arm. Turning, she laid each one out on top of the tumbled sheets.

  Alicia looked between them with awe. Clearly Rohesia’s husband was doing very well in the blacksmith business. Even on the finest days in Canterbury, Alicia couldn’t remember seeing more than a handful of women dressed like this.

  She ran her hand along the fabric. She had a sense that she would enjoy this party immensely.

  Only one additional thing could make it just perfect.

  If Martinus could be there.

  Chapter 12

  Benet and Gilbert must have finally collapsed asleep at some point in the deep night, because the lower floor was quiet when Alicia descended in the dusky dawn. She had gotten familiar enough with the layout to gather a few eggs and get breakfast started. Her heart warmed when Mathilde’s smile beamed at her from the corner.

  Mathilde set out the plates. “You are a good lass. It’s a shame you live down in Canterbury – imagine what our lives might be like if we were neighbors!”

  Alicia grinned. “Benet and Gilbert would never get any woodcarving done,” she countered. “They’d always be deep in discussion about the use of a tool or the burl of a wood.”

  An amused growl came from the hallway. “Not at all true,” countered Benet. “Sometimes we’d have to talk about the way humidity impacts a carving!”

  The morning passed in laughter and smiles, but Alicia found her gaze drifting to the front door. Every shadow that passed made her heart leap up in hope that Martinus was returning to her. She pushed it down with resolution. Whatever his business was at the docks with Tibault and Simon, she would be patient.

  After all, he had promised to return to her.

  A large, wooden tub was set up in the kitchen for baths, and the men needed little urging to head out to Gilbert’s son-in-law’s to examine his collection of delicate latches and hinges. Alicia soaked in the hot water, savoring every moment. The rose-scented soap was absolutely lovely. At last she emerged, toweled off, and slipped into her borrowed outfit.

  Mathilde stepped in, her mouth going round. “Oh, my darling. I know a mother is supposed to say her own daughter is the most beautiful woman in the world, but you are stunning. That fair skin of yours, and blonde hair, sets off the blue color in a way that she never could. Here, let your cousin bathe, and then it’s my turn. After that I’ll help you both with your hair.”

  It seemed the blink of an eye before Mathilde was back at Alicia’s side, dressed in a soft rose dress of demure cut. “And now, my dear, let’s get some braids into those beautiful golden locks of yours.”

  Afternoon was fading into evening when there was a soft knock on the door. Benet’s voice sounded through the wood. “I’m sure you three are lovely – but we have to go. We don’t want to miss the festivities!”

  Mathilde winked at Alicia, then waved to Ethelfleda. “Ethelfleda, dear, go ahead and let your father in.”

  Ethelfleda was adorned in a beautiful dress of sunshine yellow which matched the warm smile on her lips. She drew open the door. “We’re ready, Father.”

  He gave her a hug. “You are beautiful, as always, my sweet.”

  Mathilde nudged her head. “And what do you think of your niece?”

  Benet’s warm smile turned – and came to a stunned halt. He stared at Alicia as if he’d never seen her before. “My dear, is that really you?”

  Alicia blushed, drawing to her feet. “I’m the one with the cloudy vision,” she teased. “You always had the eyes of a hawk.”

  He shook his head, stepping forward. “I will have to fight off every man for fifty miles, tonight. You are enchanting.”

  Her cheeks flared with heat. “It’s Rohesia’s dress,” she murmured. “I’m just fortunate enough that she let me borrow it.”

  Benet shook his head. “It’s not just that. It’s your entire countenance since Martinus arrived in our life. The light in your eyes. The glow in your cheeks. You have been brought to life from within.”

  If possible, Alicia’s face burned even hotter.

  Mathilde chuckled with amusement. “Now, now, stop torturing the girl. Let’s get downstairs and on to the party. From what I hear, this is her first time attending a proper London event. We might as well make the most of it!”

  A glimmer caught Alicia’s eye, and she turned. Her sword was propped up against the far wall. It almost called to her. She glanced at her uncle.

  He smiled. “Go ahead, put it on. It’s a fine blade. Well suited for an introduction to a Lord.”

  In short order the group was walking along the cobblestones, the glow of torches lighting their way. The streets were glistening in the dusk, with a wealth of people passing to and fro. It seemed that London was a town which never slept.

  A turn of a corner, and an imposing wall came up before them. Alicia could see a gate at the mid-point in its length. A pair of neatly dressed guards stood on either side of its open gap.

  Gilbert waved a piece of paper in his hand as they approached. “Gilbert the wood carver, here with my lovely wife. And we have guests with us.”

  One of the guards, tall with a shock of red hair, took the paper and looked it over. He nodded in approval. “Welcome to the evening. Please enjoy yourselves.”

  Gilbert grinned. “Oh, I am sure we will.” He swept a hand to guide his group through the gates.

  Alicia looked around her, her mouth falling open. Canterbury had been a level above her hometown, and London yet another level beyond that. But whoever this Lord was must have owned silver spoons and golden chariots, to live like this.

  There were granite fountains carved in beautiful shapes of fish and mermaids. Rows upon rows of beautiful red roses. The home towered a full three stories above them in marble and stone.

  Suddenly her beautiful dress seemed quite inadequate.

  Mathilde stepped nearer to her, pressing a warm hand on her arm. “Not to worry, my dear,” she murmured. “I have no doubt you will make an impression
.”

  They walked up the short flight of steps to the main foyer. Down a marble-tiled hall …

  Alicia was in another world.

  Never in her wildest dreams could she imagine a room like this. Sparkling candles in every corner, laced in gold and silver. Stunning silver plates of pork, beef, and chicken on all sides. Raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, and items she couldn’t even put a name to. A group of red-tuniced musicians played heart-achingly beautiful music in the far corner.

  And all around swirled people in ivory, deep blue, ruby red, and colors she had only dreamt of. The outfits here each cost enough to feed her family back home for a full year.

  A warm voice sounded at their shoulder. “Gilbert! So glad you could make it! I was starting to feel out of my league.”

  Alicia turned. It was Joseph, the glass-maker. He wore a pendant at his chest which was a delicate sphere swirled with color. She wondered that it didn’t break just from contact with his tunic.

  Joseph’s gaze warmed as he took her in. “Ah, my lass, you look stunning. And how are you enjoying that lens?”

  She smiled. “I can’t thank you enough. You have changed how I view the world.”

  His grin grew. “One could hope for no higher praise. Just remember that looks are not everything. They are simply one aspect of what makes an item whole. It is what is inside that truly matters.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  There was a swirl of motion to her right, and she turned. A dark blue tunic. Black embroidery.

  Ice blue eyes.

  She blinked. Was it the man who had accosted her at the inn? The man who had attempted to ambush Martinus on the road north from Canterbury?

  Another swirl, and he vanished from view.

  Benet looked down in concern. “My dear, what is it? Not another Dylan sighting, I hope.”

  She shook her head, bringing a smile to her lips. “I realize now that my fuzzy vision was responsible for most of those,” she sighed. “I probably would have thought a dancing bear was Dylan, in the right light.”

  Benet gave her a warm hug. “Until you saw those sharp teeth,” he teased.

 

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