Boadicea's Legacy (18 page)

Os's brow furrowed. He and the knight had survived a few skirmishes together, and Os trusted his friend's judgment. “I've never met her. Why is she going to Norwich?”

“She is a friend of the earl's wife,” Warin said.

“Who is expecting a babe.” Albric rubbed his hands together. “The Lady Steffen said that she was invited as a distraction. She might be cold, but she's beautiful, and the earl has an eye for pretty ladies. I wonder who the distraction is for, the earl, or his wife the countess?”

St. Germaine grunted again—this time the rough
sound was one of disapproval. Os couldn't agree more.

Ela was angry at him, and he knew it was only going to get worse. “Let's return to the facts. Warin promised Lady Steffen an escort, and the lady Ela needs a chaperone. Did you get a chance to see if de Havel was with his men?”

“No. Just knights in de Havel's colors riding away,” Warin said. “Lady Steffen explained that they were thundering by and spooked the driver and horses, knocking the carriage over—which caused the maid to break her neck. She's not a cold woman, just a noble one.”

St. Germaine barked a laugh, while Albric flushed red. “And ye've known so many noble ladies that you're an expert now?”

“I never said that,” Warin growled.

“Albric, Warin. Listen.” Os ran the plan through his mind one more time. It would save Ela's reputation and allow him the space he needed to honor her. Mayhap once he'd been gifted the land he'd earned from the earl, he might have a chance to earn her forgiveness. He couldn't think about anything more than that.

“You have a plan, Osbert. I can tell.” Ela tapped her toe against the floor.

“We will ask Lady Steffen if there is room in her carriage.” He watched Ela's face as he spoke for clues on what she was thinking.

He didn't need clues, since she was very vocal on what she thought.

“I can't ride in a carriage like this,” Ela pointed to her
torn and dirty gown. “I don't look like a lady, and I've no money to buy new clothes.”

“I agree.” Os rubbed his chin. “Albric, did you get a good look at the size of the maid traveling with Lady Steffen?”

Ela glared at him. “I'll not take a dead woman's clothes off her back, Osbert Edyvean!”

“The lady Ela is tall, but if she stays seated, it shouldn't matter so much.” Albric eyed her feet. “I don't know about shoes. I can ask.”

Warin scoffed. “Let me ask. ‘Tis obvious you don't like Lady Steffen, and we won't get anywhere if you barge in like a rude-mannered pig.”

Albric patted the handle of his sword and narrowed his eyes. “Who are you calling a pig?”

Os exchanged a look with St. Germaine and shook his head. “They always fight over everything,” he explained to Ela, who didn't look unduly upset by the knight's behavior.

“I have brothers,” she reminded him. “Let me say to all of you—I don't ride well in an enclosed carriage. I require fresh air, else I get queasy. Not to mention, I would feel more than passing strange wearing a dead woman's clothes. I am a lady, Osbert, a fact that you usually remember before I do.”

He felt the heat creep up his neck as his friends all turned to stare at him with speculation in their gazes.

St. Germaine grinned.

“In this instance, you are no lady. You are my sister. And if God is smiling on us, Ela Montehue, you will be Lady Steffen's new maid until we get to Norwich.”

T
his is your idea of good fortune?” Ela turned away before she beat Os over the head with her “new” sewing box. The name MARY was neatly cross stitched over the top. Os kept a straight face as he stared at her—starting at the feet. She wiggled her toes in her tight shoes, feeling Os's eyes on every part of her.

Including the four inches of stocking from ankle to calf that was visible between her shoe and the hem of the maid's skirt. If he so much as smirked …

“I know nothing about being a maid. I can barely sew on a button. This woman is going to be very upset with you when she finds out how badly I react to being given orders.” Ela's chin lifted as proud tears burned the back of her eyes.

Her hair was tightly braided, and she wore a scrap of a veil over her head. How had it come to this?

“She knows that you, my sister, are new and that you hope to get a position at the castle. If you show any potential, she will give you a recommendation.”

“Oh!” Ela set the box down. If only Henry wasn't sleeping inside the box, she'd throw it for sure. “You make me angry, Os. You chose this plan without talking to me about it. Against my wishes. I could have come up with a better solution than this.”

“This is the
best
plan.” Os stood before her, having the audacity to look noble and handsome in a clean tunic and leggings, while she looked ridiculous. It wasn't fair.

“We could have told her the truth. You lie easily for a man who can't see past his own honorable nose.”

“This lie will save your life. Just my men and I know who you really are, so there is no chance of de Havel finding you between now and the castle.”

“What is Lady Steffen going to do when she finds out that I'm not who we said? I'll not stay in this”—Ela looked down at the apron she wore and sniffed—”horrible outfit to meet the earl.” She raised her fist to Os. “Do you understand that?”

He rocked back on his heels. “I hear you, Ela, as does the entire inn. Lower your voice, for pity's sake.”

“Hmm? Do you think she'll forgive the lie?”

“She won't give you a recommendation, that's all.”

“Osbert …” Ela felt her blood boil as she gritted her teeth to keep from screaming. Now was not the time for him to develop a sense of humor.

Os held up one hand. “Once you think it through, you'll realize that this is the best way to get you into Norwich unnoticed. De Havel's men have already seen the
inside of Lady Steffen's coach, so why would they search it again? We get into the earl's castle, and you can be Lady Ela Montehue. But until you're safe, you are Kathryn Edyvean. My sister.”

She didn't want to be his sister.

She wanted to be his equal. His partner.

Not an obligation to be handed over to the earl and then forgotten.

Ela swallowed the bitter taste of unshed tears trickling down the back of her throat. The spark she felt whenever she looked at Os hadn't died—if anything, it had grown despite his arrogance and his honorable sense of duty.

He saw her as a witch, or, if not that, a female who would never conform to his ideas of the perfect bride. What could she do to make him see her as a woman?

She just had to get to the castle and out of these clothes.

“You're right,” she said, lowering her eyes. “Thomas won't stop until he finds me. Something drives him that I don't understand. If being a maid will keep us both safe and hurry us to the castle, then so be it. You won't leave me, will you?”

He calmed the spurt of fear in her belly immediately by saying, “Nay. St. Germaine, Warin, and I will take turns driving the carriage. Lady Steffen's driver chose to retire.”

“I'm sure it had nothing to do with almost dying and then being called incompetent.” Ela picked up the sewing box by the handle.

Os laughed. “You will be fine.”

“How will I control my temper if she calls
me
incompetent?”

“Bite your tongue and imagine the stories you will be able to tell your family when you get back home.”

Ela took a deep breath. “Aye. I wanted adventure. I just didn't think I'd have to look silly while having it.”

Osbert wanted more than anything to reach over and kiss Ela on the tip of her nose. She looked as forlorn as a puppy being sent from the table.

Speaking of pets, he had to ask. “Ela, where is Henry?”

She pinched her lips together. Then lifted the sewing box. “In here.”

Rubbing his forehead didn't release the tension, not as Ela had been able to do with her simple touch. “Ela. What do you think Lady Steffen will say to you having a polecat in your sewing basket?”

“She has no business going through my things.”

Os exhaled. Loudly. “Ela. You are working for her, and she can go through whatever she wants.” They had to make this situation work, for Ela's sake. He didn't like Henry much, but he knew that his likes didn't matter.

“I'll not leave him behind.” Her chin jutted stubbornly.

“He can ride with me.” Had he really just offered to carry a polecat?

Her face blossomed with the most beautiful smile he'd
ever seen. “Aye? Oh, Osbert, thank you so much. Henry will be so good, you won't even know he's there.”

Osbert lifted the lid of the sewing basket and was greeted with black eyes and twitching whiskers. “I'll know.”

Henry settled himself at the back of Os's neck beneath the shelter of his cloak. Os wondered how long it would take to get used to the slight weight. “Let's go, shall we?”

Ela bit her bottom lip. “Thank you. I'm ready.”

Os led the way from the room to the courtyard in front of the inn. He waited at the bottom of the stairs, watching Ela come down them. Her posture was perfect, her bearing not the tiniest bit subservient.

“This will never work,” he said as she reached the last stair. “Slouch or something. You need to be needy.”

Albric laughed. “Don't forget to say ‘yes, my lady' and ‘no, my lady.'”

Ela practiced in her perfect French, and Warin suggested that she be like St. Germaine and grunt a lot instead. “Ye're supposed to be Os's sister. Look at him—obviously lives by the sword, and doesn't make enough money to be fashionable. Think
poor
, my lady, and you'll do better.”

Os glared at his friend who was his friend no longer. “Come, Ela, and let me introduce you to Lady Steffen. Ignore these villeins.”

He led the way to the carriage. The wheel had been fixed, although the door hung crooked from the roll on the road. It was good enough to get them to the earl's castle, which was all that mattered.

Os couldn't think about anything else after that.

Doubts threatened his plans. What if the earl was not satisfied with Boadicea's flesh and blood? He'd not found the spear, as the earl had charged him to do. He'd spent a year turning over every rock and every small clue just to find Nan in Wales. The priest there had told him about Nan's sister in England, and back he'd come.

For certes, he'd heard bits and pieces of the lore around Boadicea. She was a queen betrayed by the Romans. A woman betrayed by love. She had daughters—or she had no daughters, depending on who was telling the story.

One teller, an old man who lived deep in the marshland, said that Boadicea's kin had once lived in the Fenlands. If that had been true, Os hadn't found any other evidence of it. Old men liked their tales as well as anybody else, and no doubt the man had been lonely. Os still carried the coin the man had given him for luck on his quest on a leather thong around his neck.

A talisman, the old man had called it.

It had brought him to Ela, which could be good or nay, depending on the earl's reaction. A piece of land where he could raise goats and earn an honest living was a large boon to ask of a knight's liege.

Ela stopped abruptly, and Os stayed at her side.

Lady Steffen was dressed from wimple to slipper in ruby red. Her face was whiter than milk and her slim hands covered in black silk gloves, with rings over the top. Jewels the size of robins' eggs glittered in the sun. Os felt Ela's
hesitation and grabbed her by the elbow before she could bolt. He whispered, “You'll be fine.”

“Nay. I'll be blinded by gold and amethyst—draped in red at my funeral. This is no simple chore you want me to perform. It will take a miracle by St. Cuthbert to get me out of this impossible situation. I say we tell her the truth.”

“You are afraid of a woman who paints her face?” He shook his head.

“I'm afraid of what lies beneath the paint, and that's the truth.”

“I see. You run around the countryside unchaperoned, in a torn dress—with a stranger, no less—and yet a woman who desires to be attractive makes your knees tremble. Shame on you, Ela Montehue.”

Henry chirruped.

Ela shook his hand from her elbow. “You are the one who should be ashamed. Lies, lies, and more lies. I'm surprised God hasn't made your tongue fall out. All right, brother Os, come and introduce me to the good Lady Steffen.”

He laughed when she sent him a very evil glare.

“For certes, sis. Come with me.”

Lady Steffen stared at them as they walked the last few feet toward the carriage. “Is this my new maid, Osbert?”

“Aye, my lady. She's very honored to have this opportunity to serve you until we reach the castle.”