Twelfth Night (4 page)

“Now, bathe quickly,” she bade her guest,
“before the water cools. Here is a towel for you to use. Would you
like to borrow one of my gowns, or would you prefer to wear your
own to night?”

“I’ll wear my own dress. Perhaps tomorrow
I’ll ask for one of yours.”

Aline could hardly believe the change in
Constance, until she realized what had caused it. The girl had no
doubt been raised to become the mistress of a castle and must have
been familiar with her duties long before she married. With the
female and young male servants she seemed to have no trouble giving
orders and behaving like the lady of the castle. It was her husband
who terrified her and by extension, though to a lesser degree, her
husband’s father.

“Shall I help you, my lady?” the maid
offered, reaching to unfasten Aline’s belt.

“Thank you. I can manage by myself.” She saw
them to the door and then, seduced by the rosy fragrance rising
from the tub, she stripped off her clothing to submerge herself in
the hot, scented water. In addition to the towel, the maid had left
a cloth for washing and a bowl of gelatinous stuff that she had
called soap. It gave off a pleasant herbal scent, but Aline found
it sticky on her skin. She used the extra bucket of water left for
that purpose to rinse herself, then hurried to dress again.
Constance had supplied a wooden comb, but there was no mirror so
she had to fix her hair as best she could by touch. Lacking her
purse, she had no makeup.

“No moisturizer, either,” she noted. “I’ll
have to do something about that soon, or I’ll begin to look like a
chapped prune in this cold. Connie must have a recipe for some kind
of potion for a lady’s skin.”

Fearing she might have taken too long at her
toilette, she hurried down to the great hall only to discover that
she was early. Blaise stood alone before the nearer fireplace, a
silver goblet in his hand.

“Will you join me, my lady?” It was just a
superficial politeness on his part and she knew it, but she saw an
opening to praise his wife to him.

“I would like some wine, thank you.” She
watched him pour it from a silver pitcher. “How kindly Lady
Constance has treated me. I feel like an honored, invited guest
instead of just a lost traveler.” She had decided to use that
excuse to explain her presence at Shotley.

“Constance but does her duty.” As he was
doing his, making conversation with a guest in whom he was not
interested.

“How old is she?”

“She has sixteen summers.” He looked mildly
surprised by her question. “Why do you ask?”

“I am impressed that someone so young could
be so competent a chatelaine. My room is spotless, the servants are
well mannered and helpful, here in the hall the rushes on the floor
are fresh and sweet smelling, and the silver sparkles. You are
fortunate to have so industrious a wife, Sir Blaise.”

Now he looked even more startled, but she
could see him thinking about her remarks. Apparently it had never
occurred to Blaise that Constance worked diligently to see to his
comfort and his father’s. Good, let him revise his opinion of his
wife and understand that she was not the fool he took her to
be.

Then Constance herself came into the hall
from the screens passage. Busy directing a trio of servants in
preparing the high table for the evening meal, she did not at first
notice her husband, but concentrated on her work. Aline stole a
sidelong glance at Blaise and was pleased to discover that he had a
considering expression on his face, as though he had never really
looked closely at his wife before.

A moment later Adam arrived in the great hall
and Aline’s full attention shifted to him. He had put off his armor
in favor of a thigh-length tunic of dark green wool and a heavy
gold chain with a large emblem hanging from it. His hair was still
damp from his bath and he was freshly shaven. When he came toward
her she felt the corners of her mouth lifting to match the smile on
his face.

“I am glad to see Blaise has acted the host
in my absence,” Adam said. “Is the wine hot enough?”

“Indeed, yes. And wonderfully spiced. Is it
Lady Constance’s recipe?”

“It was her mother’s.” Blaise shot her a
wondering look, and Aline decided she had said enough about Connie
for one night. Any more compliments and Blaise would begin to
question what she was trying to do.

“You must sit beside me at the table,” Adam
invited. Aline placed her fingers on his extended wrist and walked
across the hall with him as if she did that sort of thing every day
of her life.

He had the oddest effect on her. She had
believed she was well past the age for trembling limbs and a
palpitating heart in response to any man, but the warmth of Adam’s
wrist under her fingers made her feel positively dizzy. When he
smiled into her eyes as he seated her next to the lord’s chair, she
thought of swooning. Smiling back at him, she saw that he was
similarly affected. He hovered for a moment, bent toward her, one
strong hand on the arm of her chair. She did not move. She could
barely breathe. She noticed for the first time what a finely shaped
mouth he had. It was a little too wide for the rest of his face,
but his lips were nicely modeled and his teeth were white and even.
Her own lips parted in silent invitation. She saw longing in his
eyes and knew her own must hold the same message.

Still, he was lord of the castle and she but
an unknown woman. He turned from her to sit in his own chair,
leaving Aline shaken and wary. She did not want any kind of
emotional involvement. Romance seldom ended happily in her
experience, and it certainly could not when the lovers came from
different centuries. It was ridiculous even to think of Adam in
that way. She had defended her heart against better-looking men
than Adam of Shotley. She would control her feelings and refuse to
become attached to him. Still, she could not ignore him. He was,
after all, her host.

“We will eat only fish tonight and tomorrow,”
he informed her. “We are fasting in preparation for the holy day.
On Christmas I can offer you a grand feast.”

“I’m not sure I will still be here then.”

“I do not think you will be able to leave,
even if we can discover where your servants have gone. The snow has
stopped for now, but more will come tomorrow, and I believe it will
be a great storm.”

“How can you tell?” she asked. If even
twenty-first century weather forecasters with their radar images
and satellite photos were unable to predict the weather a day in
advance with any accuracy, how could Adam be so sure?

“There is an old man who works in the
stable,“ he said, “who an hour ago told me that all his joints are
aching and his forehead, too, a combination that always presages
snowfall. Then there is my leg. I have an old battle wound that
sends me its own message of coming foul weather. These hints are to
be disregarded at one’s own peril.”

“No wonder you were in such a hurry to reach
home.” She thought his method of forecasting was probably as good
as any other. “I shall expect a heavy snow then.”

They broke off their conversation as the
servants appeared and began to serve the meal. There were two main
courses, both fish as promised. For the first dish, salted herring
had been baked with dry bread and herbs and eggs and other
ingredients that Aline could only guess at, to make a tasty
casserole. The second presentation was a large freshwater fish,
poached and served up with an elaborate sauce. There was also a
stew of boiled vegetables, and there was plenty of fresh bread and
a wheel of cheese. Wanting to keep a clear head, Aline switched
from the hot, spiced wine to homemade perry, a ciderlike beverage
made from pears.

“This seems more a feast than a fast,” she
said to Adam.

“With no meats and wooden plates and cups
instead of silver, I would hardly call it a feast,” he told her.
“On Christmas, we will have oysters. I brought a barrel of them
home with me.” He paused, watching while Constance served poached
fish to Blaise and ladled sauce for him. Dipping his spoon into his
plate, Blaise tasted the dish.

“’Tis good,” he said, nodding his approval.
“I like the sauce.”

“I am pleased, my lord. Cook will be happy.”
Constance began to blush.

“Sit with me,” Blaise ordered, catching her
wrist, “and eat from my plate.”

“Oh, no, my lord, I cannot. I have so much to
do. I beg you to excuse me.” Her face now bright red, Constance
pulled her wrist from Blaise’s grasp and left the dais, heading
towards the screens passage and the kitchen. Blaise sent a scowling
look after her.

“Silly girl,” Adam said beneath his breath.
“Each time he tries to be kind to her, she runs away from him.”

“She is shy.” Aline felt compelled to speak,
though she did not want to reveal what Connie had confided to her.
“It’s possible that she finds your son a bit intimidating.”

“Well, she should not. She is his wife and
lady of this castle, since I have no wife at present.” Adam raised
a spoon filled with fish to his mouth. Aline waited, sure he would
have more to say on the subject of Blaise and Connie. She was
right. Adam swallowed the fish, took a sip of wine, and went on.
“For myself, I think people ought to have the good sense to make
the best of the lives they have been given.”

“Is that what you did?”

“Aye.” He applied himself to the fish on his
plate. “Lady Judith was a good woman. She managed my household well
and never interfered with my duties as lord. She gave me my heir.
We respected each other, and I grieved deeply at the loss when she
died.”

“Did you love her?” It was an impertinent
question, but Aline had to know the answer.

“Love?’ He stopped eating. “Of course not. I
have observed that whenever nobles indulge in such passions, it
always seems to end badly.”

“So I have also observed,” Aline said dryly,
thinking of her own life. “Still, what we are talking about between
Blaise and Constance is not desperate, soaring passion, but a
degree of warmth that will allow them to live together in peace and
contentment.”

“It is perfectly obvious that they are not
content now,” Adam agreed. “I love Blaise well and I wish him
happy. I have advised him as best I can, but I am not skilled in
dealing with a woman like Constance. My Judith would never let
herself be cowed by me, and I respected her for it.” He sent Aline
a long, assessing look.

“My lady, would you think me presumptuous if
I asked for your help? If you can think of a way to make that
marriage a happier one, I will be forever grateful to you. Perhaps
I should not speak so freely to one whom I do not know, and a woman
at that. But then, perhaps a woman will know better than a man what
ought to be done.”

“I very much doubt that Blaise would listen
to anything I have to say.”

“Talk to me,” Adam said, “and I will convey
your thoughts to Blaise as if they were my own. Meanwhile, you
could speak with Constance.”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“Lady Aline, you owe me a favor.” His hand
covering hers took the sting out of his insistent words. “Did I not
this very day rescue you from death by freezing upon the open road?
Have I not welcomed you into my home, fed you and offered you a
bedchamber? Will you repay me by refusing a simple request?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him
that she no longer responded to male manipulators and that he was
taking unfair advantage of the situation, when it occurred to her
that he did not intend manipulation. In the world in which he
lived, what he had done for her deserved to be repaid as promptly
and as cheerfully as she could possibly manage. In his world, which
for the present was her world, too, it would be churlish of her to
say no to what he was asking.

“I am not refusing you, my lord. I will do
whatever I can to help because I genuinely like Connie – er,
Constance – and because I think she ought to be a lot happier than
she is. Just don’t expect too much of me – or of either of
them.”

“Any improvement would be a blessing.” Adam
sighed. “I hoped that in my absence they would find a way to grow
closer. But I have been told since my return that Blaise’s interest
has lighted upon one of the maidservants. He needs children to
carry on our line, and I would dearly love to see grandchildren
before I die, but they must be legitimate.”

“I understand.” His hand was still on hers.
Aline stared at it, large and hard and long-fingered, with a scar
across the back of it. He might have lost the use of his hand from
such a wound. Fighting the impulse to run her finger along the
scar, she made herself imagine Lady Judith bandaging it. Then he
let her hand go so he could raise his wine cup and hold it out to
the servant who moved along the table with a pitcher.

“I am a poor host,” Adam said, to “to speak
only of my own troubles and press you for aid, and never ask how
you came to be alone in the snow on my road. What happened to your
attendants, Lady Aline? If you know where they have gone, I will
send men after them tomorrow morning and have them returned to
you.”

“I didn’t have any servants,” she said, her
words eliciting a hard look from him.

“Were you fleeing?” he asked. “You said you
were not, but since you did not know me when we first met, perhaps
you feared if you told the truth, I would leave you there to die in
the cold.”

If I told you the truth, you wouldn’t
believe me
.

“I was traveling alone,” she said.

“No noblewoman travels alone,” he responded,
“nor on foot.”

“Adam, I swear to you, I am not fleeing from
anyone. I would return home at once if I could.

Or perhaps not immediately
, she
thought, looking into his eyes.

“Where is your home?”

“It doesn’t matter. Can’t you just accept
that I’m here now and let me stay for a