His Fair Lady (25 page)

“Good evening to you Lord Shelton, Lady
Bertrade,” he said in greeting. “Have you met my granddaughter,
Juliana? Ah, Sir Humphrey, do you see who I have here? My daughter,
Alyce’s child, is she not a beauty?” Lord Gilbert beamed with pride
and joy.

Seeing his unbounded happiness, Ana
dismissed all thought of urging him to return to his chamber. How
could she deny him this moment?

“Lord Gilbert, you are looking much renewed
and possibly two decades younger,” a rich and familiar voice
sounded to her right.

Ana turned to discover Sir Royce joining
them, the countess at his side.

“‘
Tis my Juliana who has swept away
the cobwebs of the years.” Lord Gilbert settled a glowing smile on
her. “She has the most astounding effect on a man.”

Royce’s gaze turned to Ana. “Indeed she
does,” he said congenially, his hand moving to rub at the scab over
his brow.

Ana dropped her gaze away and studied her
toes, trying to ignore the guilt that pricked at her
conscience.

“So, Sir Royce, this is the child you were
sent to find.” Lady Sibylla stepped forward, the scent of roses
drifting about her. “Did you truly give her over to . . ? Oh, but
the king forbids we speak of Lady Juliana’s lamentable past, I am
told.”

Perplexed by her words, Ana met the
countess’s assessing gaze. Why did she feel as though those dark
eyes were avidly dismantling her piece by piece?

“Lord Gilbert, your granddaughter’s return
must fill you with immense pleasure.” The countess turned her thin
smile on him. “Allow me to celebrate your good fortune with you.
You both must join us at table in the upper hall where the maid can
be seen by all.”

Us?
Ana
wondered. Hadn’t Lady Sibylla arrived unescorted? Glancing to the
countess, she saw her extend her hand to Sir Royce, waiting
expectantly for him to proffer his arm. He stole a sideways glance
to Ana and Lord Gilbert, then gallantly complied.

Ana held the couple in sight, as she and
Lord Gilbert followed them into the feasting hall. Tonight all eyes
seemingly fixed on the two — the knight, tall and insufferably
handsome, and the countess beside him, regal in bearing and
bewitchingly beautiful. Ana’s gaze strayed to Lady Sibylla’s long
fingers, laying atop Sir Royce’s arm, and thought of talons poised
to sink into his flesh.

At last they arrived at one of the tables at
the fore of the hall, near to the dais and the king and queen. With
the help of his two servants, Lord Gilbert settled himself toward
the table’s end. Ana took her place beside him, while opposite
them, Lady Sibylla assumed a seat, claiming Sir Royce as her dinner
partner.

With the trumpeting of horns, the customary
washing of hands began, followed by grace, led by the almoner.
Course upon course began to flow into the hall, accompanied by much
bustling back and forth of servants and officials. Wine flowed,
meats were broken and sauced, bread bowls filled with stews, and a
new and marvelous subtlety displayed, this one in the shape of a
horse.

Dinner passed pleasantly enough, for which
Ana was grateful. It did not slip her attention, however, that the
countess skillfully controlled the conversation and monopolized Sir
Royce’s attention. Yet, despite her manipulations, the knight
proved himself adept at including everyone at the table in the flow
of discussion.

During supper, Sir Royce saw to the
countess’s needs, much as he had to Ana’s last night when they’d
shared a trencher. Ana, in turn, attended Lord Gilbert as he
required both canes to lean upon and prop himself up. Attentively,
Ana selected items from the many courses and held the goblet for
Lord Gilbert whenever he wished to drink. She quickly found he
preferred soups and dishes with soft meats, especially
blankmanger
— a sweetened dish of
chicken paste and rice, cooked in almond milk. Of this, they
happily consumed two helpings together, and it pleased Ana to see
the dear man so enjoy himself.

As the meal progressed, Ana felt Sir Royce’s
gaze straying to her time and again. He watched her, and Lady
Sibylla watched him. Lord Gilbert watched them all.

As the last course was cleared away, someone
called for a round dance. Many a lord and lady rose from their
seats and hastened to take their places in the center of the hall.
“Juliana, you should join in the merriment,” Lord Gilbert prodded.
“Sir Royce, you will accompany her, will you not?”

Before the knight could reply, Ana politely
declined, unsure of the steps and too embarrassed to dance before
the nobles. “I would much prefer to watch for now.” She gave both
men a small smile, knowing she must appear a timid mouse.

Lady Sibylla rose grandly from her place and
cast an inviting look toward the knight. “You will not deny me the
pleasure will you?”

Ana watched as Sir Royce followed the
countess to join the ring of people that was forming. The music of
flute, viol, and lute quickly filled the air, accompanied by a
woman’s high, clear voice. As the circle began to move to the
right, the dancers stepped and turned in rhythm, sometimes
stamping, sometimes leaping, everyone laughing and smiling. The
dance no sooner ended than the music began anew, the next dance as
vigorous as the one before. It reminded Ana of those enjoyed in
Chinon at feast day celebrations, the steps not so very
different.

Ana tried to follow the movements of Sir
Royce and Lady Sibylla, but lost sight of them time and again.
‘Twas only when the music stopped and they returned for a quick sip
of wine that she saw them once more.

As the countess turned to join the next
dance, an important-looking man with an irregular nose appeared
before her, staying her steps. Ana recognized him to be one of the
high-ranking lords. A duke of something, she could not recall the
name. Lady Sibylla darted a regretful look to Sir Royce, then,
unable or unwilling to deny the duke, she allowed him to lead her
back to the center of the hall.

Royce gazed after the couple a moment, then
visibly released a breath. He turned to Ana and smiled. She watched
as the warmth of that smile spread upward, traveling from his lips
to touch his eyes.

“My Lady Juliana, the dance is about to
begin. Will you do me the honor and join me?”

“But the steps, I’m not sure—”

“‘
Tis a slow dance, and one I am sure
you can easily conquer. Come, I shall show you.” He held out his
hand, his smile shining on her. “Trust me, Juliana.”

As Ana laid her hand in the warmth of the
knight’s, he drew her to her feet and led her to where the couples
formed a long line, stretching down the center of the hall.

Ana felt trembly inside, wholly unsure of
herself. But as the music began, Sir Royce guided her through the
paces, advising her in advance each time the moves required they
briefly part. Ana’s nervousness quickly gave way to a warm glow,
rising inside her and radiating throughout her limbs. ‘Twas more
than the physical efforts of the dance that heated her, ‘twas the
spell of its movements and the way Sir Royce’s eyes drank of her
just now.

»«

Royce found himself burgeoning with pride
for Juliana as they moved over the floor. She was a vision of
unaffected grace and beauty.

But ‘twas not her comeliness that so
affected him, though, undeniably, she gladdened his eyes and
senses. Rather, ‘twas Juliana’s compassion, before all else, that
struck his heart and impressed him deeply. Regardless of her
resistance to him on their journey here, and all the frustrations
she’d caused him, the maid had proven herself to be selfless and
wholly sympathetic to Lord Gilbert.

Royce was unsure what transpired in
Juliana’s heart. He knew only that she’d yet to accept her identity
or remember the past. Still, she responded to the old lord with
great tenderness and genuine devotion. For that, Royce could easily
forgive her the dangers to which she’d exposed them both in France,
and the injuries he’d sustained.

His thoughts returned to the dance as the
couples wove a sinuous path down the center of the hall. Many a
lady clicked castanets in keeping with the rhythm. Others tossed
tambur high in the air, only to catch them on a single,
outstretched finger.

The couples parted and came back again,
pressing their palms together as they met and turned in a small
circle. Again they parted, and again they returned. Royce caught
Juliana by her waist and lifted her up, as the dance dictated.
Holding her there, he paced in a small circle once again.

Their gazes caught, Juliana’s silvery halo
of hair spilling forward, brushing his cheek and mingling with his
beard as she delighted in the dance. For the moment entranced,
Royce forgot himself. As he began to lower her to the floor, he
drew her unconsciously toward him so that she slid down his length,
their bodies grazing one another’s. Unaware his lapse was not part
of the dance, Juliana glided away, executing the next series of
steps, her hips swaying entrancingly to the music.

On they danced, touching and turning,
approaching and retreating, ending as the couples came together for
a final time, their lips nearly kissing, the men poised over their
ladies, as the strains of music faded away.

Royce’s heart pounded in his chest, his
breaths quick and shallow, as he gazed into Juliana’s prettily
flushed face. Realizing the other couples were beginning to
separate, he gave into rash impulse and brushed his lips softly
over the maiden’s.

“Thank you, my lady, for a most remarkable
dance.”

Something moved in her emerald eyes, some
thought, some emotion perhaps, as she too fought for breath. But as
the music began again, she straightened and looked across the room
to Lord Gilbert.

“Oh no, look at him. He is utterly
exhausted, yet stays in the hall on my account. Excuse me, Sir
Royce, I must convince him to retire now.”

The maid left his side and hastened toward
Lord Gilbert, where he sagged over his canes, valiantly propping
himself up as he watched his granddaughter. Royce started to
follow, thinking to lend his assistance and accompany them to the
tower. Partway across the room, however, Lady Sibylla materialized
in front of him.

The heavy scent of roses engulfed him as the
countess drew close. “Come soon,” she whispered at his ear.
Pressing a small folded note into his hand, she then swept from the
hall.

Royce paused only long enough to scan the
paper. Refolding it, he slipped it into his sleeve and headed
toward the table he’d shared with Juliana and Lord Gilbert.
Glancing there, he saw that the lord’s two servants had already
assisted him to his feet and that the foursome was making their way
toward the lower end of the chamber. He quickly joined them and
offered his aid.

“‘
Tis most gallant of you, Sir Royce,
but I can manage with Godric and Brodric here,” Lord Gilbert
replied, his voice roughened with fatigue.

“At least permit me to see you out of the
keep and to the courtyard. There are a great number of steps to
manage.”

His eyes drew to Juliana as she uttered a
small gasp.

“I’d forgotten about the steps. Do you think
we’ll need carry my lord?”

She raised wide eyes to Royce, and he saw in
them a certain edginess that had more to do with his nearness than
how to convey Lord Gilbert down the long flights of stairs.

“Carried? Have I a say in this?” Lord
Gilbert spoke up.

Juliana smiled as she broke her gaze with
Royce and leaned toward the old lord. “Not if the rest of us agree
‘tis best for you.”

Lord Gilbert lifted faded but merry eyes to
Royce. “Just like her mother.” He chuckled as they passed through
the portal and departed the hall.

»«

Ana helped Lord Gilbert as he leaned back
against the bank of pillows, then pulled the blankets and fur throw
around him.

“Good night, Juliana. Tomorrow, we’ll take
up our game of chess again, eh?”

“I look forward to it, my lord, though as a
chess partner you’ll not find me much of a challenge, I fear.”

“You do not need to be, child. Your presence
alone brings me such joy.”

Moved, Ana dropped a kiss to his wrinkled
cheek. “Till tomorrow then.”

She started to take her leave, then
reconsidering, turned back. The question she’d long been carrying
remained, heavy upon her heart. Despite the headiness and
excitements of this night, she longed to have an answer.

“My lord, I know you are tired, but there is
something I have been wishing to ask since I arrived. Would you
have strength for it now? A single question, only.”

“For you my Juliana, anything.”

The dear man uttered the words with such
kindness, tears sprang to the back of Ana’s eyes. Retracing her
steps, she returned to the bed and lowered herself onto its
edge.

“My question concerns the night of the
attack on Vaux. I never knew the name of the squire who found me
beneath the boat. He took gentle care of me and carried me with him
on his horse to the next village. ‘Tis my memory he served as
squire to a certain knight, a Sir Hugh Fitz something. Would you
know the knight’s full name, or anything of the squire? I so wish
to find him. If he still lives, that is.”

Surprise washed over Lord Gilbert’s
features. “Then you do not know—?” He halted his words as if
reconsidering what he should say. “The knight who led his troops to
Vaux that night was Sir Hugh FitzAlan.”

“FitzAlan
,
yes, that was the name Sir Royce spoke.”

“Spoke? When?”

“On the steps of St. Maurice, when he put an
end to my wedding to Gervase. He is the cooper I told you of this
morning.”

“Yes, I remember, go on.”