Jeniver didn’t seem to take it too seriously. “Mayhap when we leave for Isenhall, Lady Courtly can go with me,” she said. “Mayhap I will speak to her father and tell him that I am in great need of a lady-in-waiting. I am a countess, after all, with only menfolk about me. That is reason enough to ask for her to come.”
Maximus was overwhelmed with the thought. “You would do that?”
Jeniver nodded firmly. “Indeed, I would, if it will please you.”
Maximus stared at her a moment, trying to imagine returning to Isenhall with Lady Courtly as company. He was nearly overcome with the joy and excitement the mere thought seemed to provoke.
“It would,” he finally confessed. “You have no idea how much it would. But if she comes with us, then I should speak to her father about courting her. I… I do believe I would like to marry a woman such as Lady Courtly. I never imagined I would have a marriage that was anything other than a convenience, but when I see you and Gallus together, I realize that I hope for such happiness, too. Mayhap Lady Courtly would bring me such joy. It would be a miraculous thing, indeed.”
Jeniver smiled at the man who seemed to have deeper thoughts than she believed him capable of. Was it true that, perhaps, there was a bit of a dreamer in Maximus de Shera? It seemed impossible from his usually warring manner but from his words, now it was seemingly probable. She squeezed his arm encouragingly.
“I hope so, truly,” she said softly, sincerely. “It is wonderful to wake up every morning next to the person you love most. I pray you know that feeling, Max. I truly do. Meanwhile, do not let Tiberius upset you so. I believe that if he truly knew the depths of your feelings on the matter of Lady Courtly that he would not be so quick to taunt.”
Maximus grunted unhappy. “I hope so,” he said. “I do not wish to kill my own brother, but if he continues along his path, it may come to that.”
Jeniver laughed softly. “Let us pray it does not,” she said. “I will make sure he understands that there is to be no mention of Lady Courtly from his lips. I am sure he will see reason.”
Maximus cast her a long glance. “You will not tell him what told you?” he asked hesitantly. “I… I do not wish for him to know what I am feeling, at least not yet. I will tell him in time.”
Jeniver shook her head firmly. “I will not breathe a word of it,” she said. “But may I tell Gallus? He will want to know. He will not taunt you. Moreover, he will want to know why I am going into town to buy gifts for a woman I have never met.”
Maximus was forced to agree. “Then you must tell him,” he agreed. “He will not be able to go with us because de Montfort has sent for him this morning. Did he tell you?”
“He did.”
“I do not want Tiberius going with us, either.”
Jeniver laughed softly. “As you say,” she said. “He can go with Gallus to meet with de Montfort.”
“De Montfort called for Gallus only. Tiberius can remain here for all I care. Whatever he does, I do not want him going with us.”
“I will make sure he does not.”
Satisfied, Maximus turned back to his horse, slapping the big neck affectionately. “Let me tend to my horse first and then we shall gather gifts when I am finished. Will you be ready in an hour?”
Jeniver was already moving from the stable. “I am ready now,” she said. “But tend your horse. I will tell Gallus where we are going.”
Maximus watched Jeniver as she moved halfway across the yard before coming to a halt. Slowly, thoughtfully, she turned back in his direction.
“Max,” she said pensively, as if she were stewing on a great idea. “What if I were to invite Lady Courtly to come shopping with me rather than taking gifts to her? Your time with her would probably be better spent. How much will you really be able to speak with her if we take gifts to her home and her father is around? What if we deliver the gifts and he asks us to leave immediately? You will not be able to spend any time with her at all.”
Maximus cocked his head curiously. “What makes you think her father will not let me speak to her?” he asked. “I spent a good deal of time speaking to her last evening.”
Jeniver shrugged. “But if we bring her with us to town, then your time with her would be… uninterrupted, I would think,” she said, rather slyly. “You may even take her shopping, alone, while I go about my business. You could not do that if her father was around. I am simply suggesting that you might like some time alone with her.”
Maximus liked her idea very much. “And you would be correct,” he said. “Very well, then. We shall go to Kennington and invite her to go to town with us and shop for her needs.”
With a clever grin, Jeniver turned back for the inn, and Maximus watched her until she disappeared inside. Then, he turned back to his horse, bending over to feel for the swollen tendon he felt last night. All the while, his thoughts were lingering on the anticipation of shopping with Lady Courtly. He didn’t tell Jeniver about the rose oil. He didn’t know why. Perhaps because it was the first gift he had ever given a woman and it seemed like such a deeply personal thing, just between the two of them. He wanted to keep that memory private for the moment, something to savor.
As he headed back into the inn to make a poultice for his horse’s swollen leg, he imagined all of the grand things he would purchase for Lady Courtly. He was eager to see her expression when he bought them for her, lavishing gifts upon a woman who had lost everything. He hoped that de Lara wouldn’t be insulted by the gifts but he told himself that de Lara’s angst didn’t matter. He planned to ask for permission to court Courtly and he was sure Kellen would have no reason to deny him. He had, after all, saved the woman’s life and Kellen had declared that they were all in Maximus’ debt. Perhaps it was time for the debt to be paid.
As he thought on the joys of seeing Courtly again, he could not have imagined a very different scene happening that moment at Kennington. Had he known, he would have stopped what he was doing and raced for the manor.
He didn’t know he was about to lose Courtly before he ever truly had a chance to gain her.
“But, Papa… I do not understand,” Courtly pleaded. “Why are you sending us home? What have we done?”
It was after sunrise following the evening with Maximus de Shera as their guest. The morning was bright if not cold, and somewhere during the night rain had fallen, leaving the bailey a soupy mess of mud. De Lara’s men were milling about, starting cooking fires to warm over the remains of last night’s pork stew, but along with those men going about their duties, there were about ten of them forming a traveling party near Kennington’s iron gate.
It was this traveling party that Courtly was referring to. Standing in the doorway of the lower level of the wing where the bedchambers were, she was wrapped in a woolen coverlet against the morning’s chill. She had nothing else to use against the cold. Her father had awoken her and Isadora just after dawn, telling his daughters that they were returning to their home on the marches that day. Then he had turned and walked away, but the news had Courtly on her feet and running after her father to confront him. Now, the confrontation was here as Kellen turned to answer his daughter’s question.
“You have not done anything,” he said stiffly. “I am sending you home because I do not believe Oxford is a good place for you. With the fire yesterday, now you have nothing at all by way of possessions, and I do not see Ellice providing anything to you so it is best to send you home. It is safer and better for you there.”
That wasn’t the truth behind the directive and Courtly knew it. She suspected from the onset what was behind her father’s sudden decision to send her home and she would not tactfully couch her accusation. It came out in force as her father tried to turn away from her.
“That is not true,” she hissed. “Could this have something to do with Maximus de Shera, Papa?”
Kellen paused to look at her, eyes narrowing. “I do not know what you mean,” he said, trying to turn away again. “Make sure Isadora is ready t
o leave within the hour.”
Courtly bolted out of the doorway and grabbed her father by the arm, stopping him from going any further.
“We are not going anywhere,” she said. “I knew you were watching Maximus last night when he spoke with me. You were watching him from the moment he entered the hall, weren’t you? From the very moment the man said his first word to me, you were watching him with suspicion. How could you do that, Papa? How could you show such mistrust for the man who saved the lives of your children?”
Kellen grunted. “The man didn’t talk to the rest of us – only to you.”
“He was our guest! Was I supposed to ignore him?”
Kellen yanked his arm away from her grasp. Their first conversation of the day had become very brittle, very quickly, and he was caught off-guard by it. He didn’t like fighting with his precious Courtly and wasn’t very adept in handling his emotions where it pertained to her.
“I never said this decision had anything to do with Maximus de Shera,” he insisted, although it was weakly done. “Why would you accuse me of such a thing?”
His denial angered her. “Because it is true!” she fired at him. “You always behave the same way when any man comes within ten feet of me. You think every man in England is out to ravage me. It simply isn’t true!”
Kellen was trying not to lose ground in this argument. Maximus’ attention towards Courtly had him up all night and by morning he’d made his decision what to do about it. He knew he couldn’t chase a de Shera away as he’d done with other suitors. Therefore, it stood to reason that if he couldn’t send the man away, he needed to send his daughter away where the man could not get to her. Still, he would not admit to her accusation. He didn’t like having his decisions questioned.
“I have no idea what you mean,” he said, again. “I am sending you back to Trelystan because you and your sister have nothing and your aunt has not yet returned this morning, so it is doubtful you will have anything you need to replace what you lost.”
Courtly threw up her hands in a gesture of utter frustration. “We can just as easily go into Oxford to purchase items to replace what we lost in the fire,” she pointed out. “You would rather send us home, more than two weeks on the road, with absolutely nothing to our name? We would have to stop somewhere, at some time, to purchase something to tide us over. Why not purchase it here?”
Kellen’s jaw ticked angrily and he was having a difficult time looking at his daughter. “You will be safer at home,” he said, avoiding her question. “I should not have brought you with me to Oxford. There is too much danger here.”
Courtly grunted with frustration. “There is no danger here,” she said. “You have made up any danger in your mind. Admit it, Papa – you want to send me home because Maximus de Shera was kind to me. He showed me attention. Every time a man shows me attention, you do your very best to send him away. Now, you are sending me away because you cannot send a de Shera away. Admit it!”
Kellen growled and turned away from her. “You are mad.”
Courtly watched him march away. “Mayhap I am,” she called after him, furious. “But I am not going home!”
With that, she stomped back into the building, slamming the door behind her. When she returned to the small, dark chamber she shared with her sister, Isadora was sitting up in bed, sleepily rubbing her eyes.
“Why were you shouting?” Isadora wanted to know, yawning. “Why was Papa here?”
Courtly was hurt, frustrated, and angry. She sat heavily on the end of the bed, near tears. She knew what her father was capable of but this was one suitor she did not wish for him to chase away. Speaking with Maximus the night before, it was as if they were the only two people in the entire hall. Her father had been right. Maximus had only spoken to her for most of the night. He had been attentive, kind, and humorous. It was true that she had done most of the talking, but he had listened most carefully. And when he spoke in that deep, melodious voice, it was enough to send bolts of excitement coursing up her spine. She could have listened to that voice forever.
But she knew her father had been watching. He’d been watching both of them since the moment they came back from the kitchens. Although Maximus’ brother was able to engage Kellen in conversation, monopolizing the man for the entire evening, it was clear that Kellen had been distracted by the conversation going on between Maximus and his daughter. Courtly had been fully expecting her father to make a comment about it but she certainly hadn’t expected the man to make an attempt to send her home. Well, she wasn’t going no matter what he said.
“Papa wants to send us back to Trelystan,” she finally said, answering her sister’s question. “I told him we are not going.”
Isadora appeared puzzled. “Why does he want to send us back?”
Courtly looked at her sister, then. “Because he wants to send me away from Sir Maximus,” she said. “He did not like the attention the man paid to me last night. We knew this would happen, Issie. It always does.”
Isadora yawned again although she was becoming more lucid. “I saw Papa,” she said. “He watched you and Sir Maximus all night.”
Courtly sighed heavily and hung her head. Her frustration and anger was wearing off, being replaced by a powerful sense of disappointment. Not this time, Papa. I will not let you do it this time!
“Why does he do it, Is?” she sighed. “I did not much care when he chased away my first two suitors, old men who had summoned me because they had heard I was beautiful. I did not even care when he chased away that young knight who had been traveling from Ireland. What was his name? De Royans? And if Papa knew that Kirk St. Héver has tried to show me attention, he would dismiss the man forever. But with Sir Maximus, I do not want to go home and never see him again.”
Isadora watched her sister’s sad expression and felt very sorry for her, as sorry as a child could feel. She didn’t yet understand the allure of men and of marriage, but someday she would. She didn’t want to face what her sister was facing. Climbing out of bed, she went to her sister, snuggling against her, trying to give the woman some comfort.
“Papa is afraid,” she said simply. “He is afraid someone will take you away from him.”
Courtly sighed. “I wish it was that simple,” she said. “It seems as if there is something more than that, something….”
She was cut off when the door to the chamber suddenly swung open, revealing Ellice in the doorway. Isadora gasped with fright at the unexpected sight of her aunt, who looked damp and disheveled, as if she had been running all night long. Her eyes had an edgy gleam to them. Courtly, however, did nothing more than meet the woman’s gaze. She was in no mood for the woman’s games, now appearing as if Lazarus had just returned from the dead, when she had been missing all night.
“Greetings, Auntie,” she said without enthusiasm. “We missed you last eve.”
Ellice eyed her niece. “I was told you cooked the meal,” she said. “Is this true?”
Courtly looked away. “I had little choice,” she said. “You ran off and took your servants with you, including the cook. We could only find one girl to help. I suppose she was the one who told you that I cooked.”
Ellice remained in the doorway, the stench of moldering leaves wafting into the room, so much so that Isadora actually put her fingers to her nose. Ellice smelled as terrible as she looked.
“There were others,” Ellice said vaguely. “I will commend you for doing what needed to be done. I did not know you had such strength in you.”
It was as close to a compliment as Ellice had ever come, a surprising comment, but Courtly was unimpressed. “It does not matter,” she said. “Papa wants to send us home so you will not have to worry over us any longer. I am sure Papa will leave Kennington, too, so you can return to your normal life without all of us underfoot.”
Ellice was only interested in a small part of that statement. “Why is he sending you home?”
Courtly simply shook her head. She had no intention of telli
ng the woman the truth, but Isadora, being unable to keep her mouth shut, spoke.
“Because Papa does not like that Maximus de Shera paid attention to Courtly,” she told her aunt. “Sir Maximus was our guest last night at the feast. He is the one who helped save us from the fire. Papa wants to send us home so Sir Maximus will forget about my sister.”
Ellice stared at the girl. At that moment, something shifted in her eyes. A twinkle, a glimmer, perhaps an inkling of remembrance came to the woman’s expression. Her pale, damp face seemed to change also and her cheeks began to grow pink. Flushed, even. Coming into the room, she slammed the door behind her and focused on Courtly.
“Tell me everything,” she demanded quietly. “What did my brother do?”
Courtly wasn’t sure why her aunt was asking such questions, questions she surely didn’t want to answer. She glanced at the woman but made no real move to respond.
“He did not do anything,” she said, looking away. “Papa simply said he wants to send us home.”
Isadora jumped into the conversation because Courtly didn’t seem apt to tell their aunt what she knew. She didn’t stop to think that it was because Courtly didn’t want the woman to know.
“Papa does not like it when men pay attention to Courtly,” she said. “He has sent away six suitors already and last night, Sir Maximus was very kind to my sister. Papa does not like that and he wants to send us both home.”
Ellice digested what Isadora told her. “Did he say anything to your guest? To Sir Maximus?”
Isadora shook her head. “I do not think so,” he said. “Papa spoke with Sir Maximus’ brother all night long. I do not think he spoke to Sir Maximus at all.”
“What is this to you?” Courtly asked, interrupting Isadora. Her gaze was both pleading and frustrated upon her aunt. “This is not your business, Auntie. This is between Papa and me. You do not need to know these things. Surely you do not care.”
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