Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
A foreboding like a black cloud hovered over Alex as they entered London, riding down the Strand toward the palace. It had naught to do with the dark sky above threatening rain, the foul-smelling mud splashing onto Azor’s withers, or the dirty, narrow streets with their buildings pressed closely together.
The cause of it, he knew, was the king.
With his notorious temper and his strange proclivities, many knights disdained the royal court. In private he could be easy, tossing off jests as one given to frivolity, however, in public and when angry, he was given to fits of temper accompanied by stuttering. At times, William was barely able to converse. Then he would turn savagely cruel, seeking to intimidate those around him. Only on the battlefield could William Rufus be counted upon to act the leader of men like his father, appreciating boldness in others.
With Alex, the king had been generous. But what would he be with Merewyn?
If he could, Alex would spare her and his mother the evenings at court. But since they had come to London, their presence at court would be expected. While his father, who had attended the king before, would find little surprising, the women would be shocked at what they might see. For Merewyn, there was also danger. And not just from the king. Ranulf, the king’s priest and advisor, ruthlessly pursued any beautiful woman he desired. Against both Alex vowed to guard her well.
Their party numbered more than a dozen since Earl Hugh and a few of his men had joined them in Chester. Alex was always amazed the earl could still sit a horse since he had grown corpulent, not unlike the Conqueror in the years before his death.
Alex remembered those years and the hectic days that followed the king’s deathbed confession in Normandy. Once William Rufus learned he was to have England, he had made haste to cross the Channel and claim the crown, taking Alex with him. Upon their arrival, the new king had knighted Alex, then only eighteen.
The hooves of their horses splashed dirty water from the muddy puddles as they headed toward the River Thames.
“Our house should be ready to receive us,” he said to his father, riding next to him. “I asked the king’s messenger who came to Talisand to assure it was so when he reached London.”
Talisand’s lord raised a brow. “The king’s messenger does your bidding?”
Alex smiled to himself as he remembered why the man had so quickly agreed, for Alex had once defended him before the king. “He owed me a favor.”
His father’s expression was assessing. Alex knew him well enough he did not fear him like he had once feared Earl Hugh, but it was still true that the knight called the Red Wolf could terrify weaker men with just a look. “’Tis well and good our lodgings are ready. I would not want to try and find rooms at the king’s palace.”
“Aye, ’twill be crowded,” said Alex.
Nearly twenty thousand people lived in London now and, with William summoning his army, Alex expected the numbers to swell as knights, men-at-arms and seamen poured into the city. Taverns would be overflowing with men and fights among them would be a common occurrence. Already the streets were filled with more people than when he had left.
From the other side of his father, Earl Hugh spoke. “As I am oft here, I have long maintained a house not far from the palace.”
Alex turned in his saddle to look at Merewyn, riding alongside his mother. Both women appeared tired, their shoulders drooping like plucked flowers left in the sun. The air was thick with moisture, draining strength, making him glad he wore no mail. “We will soon be there,” he encouraged.
At his words, Merewyn lifted her head and straightened her back.
He smiled to himself and turned back to face the streets of London. Merewyn had fortitude. She would not allow him to see any weakness.
A short while later, Earl Hugh and his men left them to head down a side street. The Talisand group continued on, arriving in front of the two-story manor that was their destination.
Their London house was larger than the one at Talisand because, while it lacked a hall, it possessed a large dining chamber with a hearth. It had windows, now shuttered, on both sides looking out on the street and, from the second story at the rear of the house, one could see the River Thames.
The manor’s door was nearly on the edge of the street. A narrow strip of stones ran along the front of the house, a feature shared by many of the homes on the Strand. The trees and flowers so abundant in Talisand were missing altogether making the house seem dour in its mood.
Alex dismounted and handed Azor’s reins to the young groom who waited before the door. “Did you receive my message, Ric?”
“Aye, sir, all is ready for his lordship. The stable boys will take the horses and see them fed.”
“You have my thanks,” he told the groom. Glad things had gone well, Alex helped Merewyn down from her mare. He was enjoying having his hands on her waist. For more than a sennight, he’d been at the task. Ignoring the jests of his companions at the attention he paid her and the occasional puzzled looks from his mother, he was always there to assist Merewyn. She had never complained about the long days yet he knew she was often weary. Each time he had helped her from her horse, she thanked him even as her sweet smell filled his nostrils, driving him half-mad for want of her.
Giles, the gray-haired steward who had served his father as long as Alex could remember, rushed out the door to greet them. “My lady, my lord, all is ready. The bath water is heating and a dinner of roast duck will soon be served. ”
“You have our thanks,” said his father. “We are tired from the road and all you suggest will be most welcome.” Draping his arm around Alex’s mother, the two followed the steward into the manor. Sir Geoffroi walked behind them with his son, Guy. Alex, Merewyn and Rory followed. The men-at-arms tramped around to the stable where they would lay their pallets for the night.
Inside the house, drinks of spiced wine awaited them. Shedding their cloaks, they accepted the warm cups smelling of cloves and cinnamon, gratefully imbibing the sweet wine tasting of spices and honey. He was happy to see that the drink revived Merewyn. Like a flower given water and sun, she smiled, her cheeks reddening with the heady wine.
Their eyes met over their cups and the room grew more heated. “So, what do you think of London?” he asked her.
“I am overwhelmed. ’Tis even larger than Chester. And your home,” she said looking around, “is beautiful.”
Their London house was more richly appointed than the manor at Talisand but Alex loved his home in the north and preferred it above this one.
Nelda came down the stairs. “Your chamber is ready, my lady,” the maidservant said to her mistress.
“Come, Merewyn,” said Alex’s mother, “let us have that bath Giles spoke of and shed these mud-stained garments for some clean gowns.”
Alex’s gaze followed the two women as they ascended the stairs, then he joined the other men as they strolled into the main chamber.
“It appears London has not changed,” said his father looking out the window to the street. He turned into the room and faced Sir Geoffroi. “I doubt you have missed it any more than I.”
Guy’s father laughed. “Nay, I do not miss London. Nor do I miss York, or any other town. I prefer to remain on my lands near Talisand where Emma and I can live in peace. ’Tis enough to attend the barons’ meeting and give what advice the king will take. Our sons can ride to battle with their young king.”
Alex shared a glance with his two companions. “If the king has his way, we will soon be on our way to Scotland.”
“First we must endure the king’s court,” said Rory.
“Aye,” said Alex. Raising a brow toward Guy, he said, “Best not to appear too prettily dressed, else your youth and that handsome face of yours might be confused with the king’s favored courtiers.”
Guy looked affronted.
Sir Geoffroi scowled.
“That has not changed?” asked Alex’s father.
“Nay,” said Alex. “If anything, ’twas worse after we returned from Normandy.”
***
Merewyn sighed with relief when she arrived at the chamber assigned to her. Her body ached from the long day’s ride. The room was dim; the only light was the narrow band spilling in around the edges of the closed shutters. She opened them wide, eager to view the surrounding area.
The window faced east toward the river. On the far bank of the Thames stood a few buildings, but on either side of them the land appeared to be untamed marsh. Dark clouds hung low overhead, their brooding color turning the waters of the Thames a dull gray. A stench rose in her nostrils making her grimace. She could not tell if it was the river or something else. As they had ridden into London, the whole city seemed to smell of raw offal. She could not imagine a king living in such a place, but then Alex had told her William Rufus was not often here.
Behind her, a knock sounded.
“Enter.”
Nelda peeked her head around the oak-paneled door, her blue-gray eyes scanning the chamber as her dark plait fell over her shoulder. “Can they bring the bathing water in now, mistress?”
“Aye, of course. And ’tis your chamber, too, Nelda. Lady Serena told me we were to share.”
“Do not be concerned with me,” the maidservant said, opening the door wide to admit two boys lugging pails of steaming water. “The chests will be here shortly so you will have fresh clothing after your bath. I will bathe while you and Lady Serena are at supper.”
The girl was efficient as she moved the copper tub to the center of the room and gestured the lads to fill it. When they had done so, Nelda ushered the lads from the room and waited by the door as two male servants carried their chests into the room, along with Merewyn’s bow and quiver of arrows.
Once the men had gone, Nelda made a quick survey of the chamber, a satisfied look on her face. “I will return after I’ve seen to Lady Serena.”
“Thank you, Nelda.”
Alone, Merewyn peeled off her gloves, her gown stained with mud, her undertunic, shoes and hosen. Taking the pot of soft soap from her chest and picking up a drying cloth from the stack left on her bed, she breathed in the scent of Talisand’s flowers and stepped into the tub.
The light from the window fell across her body. Most of her skin was a pale ivory, but even with her straw hat, her face felt tight, as if it had gained color from the sun, for they’d had good weather.
She eased her body into the steaming water and laid her head on the edge of the tub letting the hot water soothe her. Her mind filled with images of their travel to London. She had loved seeing the countryside and places she had never been. The days spent conversing with Lady Serena had been pleasant. But most of all, she had enjoyed being with Alex, mayhap too much. She was fond of seeing him each day. He could be charming as well as commanding and often he had made her smile in their brief stops or at supper. Whatever there was between them, it had grown, at least on her part. It was there whenever he touched her, placed his hands about her waist or allowed his gray eyes to linger on her.
It was dangerous, but she could not bring herself to show him indifference.
In Shrewsbury, they had played chess again and he had won. She had been relieved. It was better that way. Friends traded wins.
The memory of the first night he had kissed her flickered in her mind. He had said they could be more than friends. What had he meant? She would not be his mistress and could never be his wife. What more was there for them? In truth, she feared she was playing with fire. But she could no longer deny her heart.
The bath water began to grow cold and, feeling a chill, she quickly rinsed her hair and reached for the drying cloth. Stepping from the tub, she dried herself and changed into a linen gown the color of green summer leaves. Nelda would return to help her with the laces. Would Alex think it feminine? Her archer’s clothing had been sewn to conceal her curves. Though she was slender, she did have them and, for Alex, she wanted to appear more than a bowman.
Pulling her still damp hair back from her face, plaiting the sides and tying them together at her crown, she let the rest of her hair hang free.
She shot a glance at her bow, leaning against the wall next to her quiver of arrows. The silent rebuke she heard in her mind was not so strong as it had once been. As Maugris had advised, she would control the bow and keep her own counsel.
After Nelda had come and gone, Merewyn went downstairs. Everyone was there save Alex. Her searching gaze did not go unnoticed. Rory strolled to her. “Alex has gone to the palace to let the king know Earl Renaud has arrived. He will bring back news of the barons’ meeting.”
Embarrassed that Rory should have been so quick to see her interest in Alex’s whereabouts, Merewyn thanked him and went to join Lady Serena where she stood with Earl Renaud and Sir Geoffroi on the other side of the room. She had just taken a sip from the goblet handed her when Alex appeared at the doorway, a frown on his face.
He darted a glance at her, then strode to his father. “The king has decided the barons will meet two days hence. Ranulf says nearly all have arrived. But William has called a hunt for tomorrow in Windsor Forest.”
A hunt . With a night’s sleep in a comfortable bed, Merewyn would enjoy racing through the woods after deer. Her brows lifted in question to Lady Serena. “Where is Windsor?”
“’Tis the closest of the royal forests, a morning’s ride away,” replied Lady Serena. Then she turned to Alex, “Will we be expected to join the king for dinner at Windsor Castle tomorrow eve?”
“Nay, he plans to return to Westminster where we will dine with him and the barons. ’Tis likely to be a large gathering with so many in London.”
The steward was good to his word and soon they were dining on roast duck cooked in wine sauce with cherries. The dish was a particular favorite of Merewyn’s and she ate heartily from the trencher she shared with Alex.
It was a happy gathering that evening as the men discussed the king’s hunt planned for the next day. Merewyn had never seen Windsor Forest, one of the king’s woodlands set aside for his pleasure. The men did not invite her to participate but she wanted to. A royal hunt!
That night, Merewyn lay in bed, listening to the rain pounding on the roof, the sound soothing and the breeze blowing in through the open shutters clean and fresh.
The next morning, awakened by the bells sounding the hour of Terce, she threw back the cover and walked to the window. In the distance, the Thames was a deep blue, the morning sun already turning the sky a paler version of the river. She inhaled deeply. The air, washed clean by the rain, smelled fresh. The rain had swept away the horrible stench, at least for a time.
Nelda stirred in her small bed on the far side of the chamber. “Oh, I am late rising.” She sat up, already replaiting her hair. “Do you require my service before I attend Lady Serena? I am certain she is awake and Earl Renaud may already be breaking his fast.”
“Nay, I am well able to dress myself, Nelda.” Merewyn’s voice was full of the excitement welling up inside. “I plan to join the hunt so ’tis an archer’s clothing I will be wearing today.” Then with a smile, she added, “No laces.”
Nelda returned her a surprised look and then, bobbing her head, splashed water on her face, slipped her simple tunic over her undertunic and left the chamber.
It took Merewyn only moments to dress and plait her hair she was so anxious to take part. Grabbing her bow and arrows and her brown felt hat, she quickly descended the stairs and crossed the entry into the main chamber. The men were seated at the table and, as Nelda predicted, eating their morning gruel, bread and berries. Cups of ale dotted the table.
Alex looked up and scowled, his hand poised with a piece of bread in front of his open mouth. “Where do you think you are going dressed like that?”
Rory coughed and sputtered, his gruel flying out of his mouth.
Guy beamed at her. At least he was pleased.
Merewyn’s gaze quickly took in the two older knights. Both Earl Renaud and Sir Geoffroi bore amused expressions.
In a fit of temper, Alex threw his bread on the table .
“I want to join the hunt,” she calmly stated. “I have my bow and arrows and Ceinder can soon be saddled and ready.”
Pounding his fist on the table, making the cups jump, Alex bellowed, “Absolutely not!”
His father raised a brow and cocked his head toward his son.
“I think ’tis a grand idea,” said Guy.
“We know she can shoot well,” chimed in Rory, wiping his face with a cloth.
“And I have you to protect me,” she said to Alex, batting her eyelashes, “should I face a wild boar.”
Sir Geoffroi laughed. “Emma would be proud.”
From behind Merewyn, the voice of Lady Serena brought the discussion to an abrupt close. “Let her go with you,” she said to her son. “Ren and Geoff will look after her. And Rory has the right of it. Merewyn can shoot well. You have witnessed her skill yourself. It might prove entertaining to see her outshoot the Norman king’s men.”
Alex turned to his father as if seeking support, but Talisand’s lord remained silent in the face of his wife’s approval.
“I like it not,” said Alex, “but I can see I am outnumbered.”
In a typical hunt, the men raced their horses after the hounds and, when they had cornered a deer, dropped to the ground to render the killing blow. But she could shoot from her pony, which gave her an advantage. Merewyn could hardly wait to see how she fared against the king and his barons.
Lady Serena draped her arm around Merewyn’s shoulders. Having the support of the Lady of Talisand meant much. Alex might not like it, but Merewyn would go with them.
“I will wear my cap,” she said to Alex holding up the brown felt, “so everyone will think me your page.”
Alex let out a huff. “Indeed, that is just what I feared.”
***
Alex held his breath as they approached Windsor Forest, hoping no one would remark on Merewyn’s presence. Perchance he could keep her hidden among the others as they hunted in the thousands of acres set aside for the king .
Already, a group of more than a dozen men had gathered for the hunt, waiting beneath the tall beech trees that stood guard at the entrance to the dense woods.
Like his father before him, William Rufus was an avid hunter. Alex had hunted many times with him in the New Forest that the Conqueror had created southwest of London at the expense of nearly two score villages. It was close enough to Westminster for the king to spend a day away from court pursuing the beasts of the chase, the hart—the red deer stag he loved—and the wild boar. But most often, the king hunted in Windsor Forest because it was closer to London.
Only the king and his friends were permitted to hunt in the royal forests. Harsher than his father, William Rufus showed no mercy to anyone caught hunting without his permission. A man found taking one of the deer would be sentenced to death. To shoot at a deer would lose a man his hands and disturbing a deer would cost a man his eyes.
Alex considered the penalties cruel. The nobles complained about them and the poor cried foul, but the king remained unmoved, caring little about the ill will his harsh punishments brought him. The church also loathed the harsh forest laws and frowned on hunting for sport, but William Rufus gave little thought to the clerics’ protests.
Alex and his father had discussed the forest laws, glad no royal forest had been declared a part of Talisand’s lands.
His mother was quick to tell him the Anglo-Saxon kings had allowed the people to hunt freely. She argued it was beneath a king to care so little for his people and so much for his own pleasure that he would maim and kill those who hunted merely to feed their families.
Alex had agreed with his mother, but could do nothing, despite her urging him to raise the matter with William.
His father had sympathized, but in the end, shrugged. “Alex is the king’s knight, Serena, compelled to serve his sovereign no matter his views on the matter.”
The knights from Talisand, joined by Earl Hugh and the “page” accompanying them, approached the waiting men. Talisand’s lord, Earl Hugh and Sir Geoffroi rode in front. Merewyn rode next to Alex where he could keep an eye on her. Rory and Guy moved up to flank them.
Glancing at Merewyn in her green and brown archer’s clothing with her brown felt cap, he was struck by how young she looked. The description of a page was not far off. He suddenly wished her pony was a dark bay and not white, for its color, a stark contrast to the muted colors of the forest, drew the eye. ’Twas the only white horse in the hunt and given the apparent youth and sex of the rider, the king was certain to notice. The possibility disturbed Alex greatly.
“You are scowling,” whispered Merewyn.
“I have good reason!” he hissed back.
“Welcome, Earl Renaud,” said one of the barons from the midst of the hunters. Alex recognized the man. ’Twas Robert fitzHaimo, baron of Gloucester, one of the king’s loyal subjects. Like the Red Wolf, fitzHaimo had served the first William and now served the second. The baron was slight of frame and his chestnut hair nearly the color of Alex’s father’s, only longer. The Red Wolf might be a decade older, but to Alex his father was somehow more virile, his presence more dominating than the other men.
“Do you wait for the king?” asked Alex’s father.
“Aye,” replied fitzHaimo. “His huntsman has been here with his scent hound so that we now know the path the deer will take. He is stationing the hounds ahead along the expected route.”
“A messenger arrived some time ago,” said a man Alex did not recognize, “advising us the king would be late. We expect him any moment.”
Altogether a score of men waited for the king. The sun was now strong in the sky and the rain of the night before was causing steam to rise off the damp vegetation where the sun’s rays reached to the forest floor.
“Go on,” Alex told Rory and Guy. “Greet the others.” Then frowning at Merewyn, he said, “I will stay with my page .”
Merewyn raised her eyes to the trees.
Rory and Guy chuckled as they walked their horses around Alex’s father and Sir Geoffroi to greet the knights with whom they were acquainted. Earl Hugh had already wandered off to converse with one of the barons.
Azor was restless beneath Alex. Neither of them liked to wait. Then, too, the stallion might be sensing his master’s anxiety. He walked the horse in a circle, then brought it alongside Merewyn. She had not moved at all, her mare standing serene and seemingly content.
“Say nothing unless you are asked a question,” he cautioned in a low voice. “If a question comes to you, short answers are best. In truth, I would have no one hear your voice.”
She nodded. But he was not fooled. Now that she had what she wanted, she appeared compliant. But the glimmer of defiance in her blue-hazel eyes told him once the hunt began, he could not be assured she would remain at his side.
A horn sounded from behind them. In the distance, hounds bayed.
The king .
***
Merewyn’s stomach clenched as the king and his guards arrived. She had never met this William but she knew the Norman knight who had raped her mother had served the first one. She straightened her back, tugged her cap down on her head and stiffened her resolve. I will not cower .
Alex tossed her a look of caution, his gray eyes stormy. “You have nothing to worry about if you remain silent.”
Of what does he worry? But she nodded all the same.
She knew instantly which of the approaching riders was the king. His resplendent attire captured her eye: a bejeweled, scarlet tunic over blue silk undertunic, the sleeves extending to his wrists. On his thick fingers were many rings, each displaying a different jewel. He had long yellow hair, a small red beard and florid cheeks. The horse he rode was a magnificent Spanish chestnut stallion. She was surprised to see how short the king’s legs were, but his upper body was powerfully built. Yet the king had a protruding belly, like the richly attired man with dark hair who rode beside him.
She trembled as William Rufus fixed his eyes upon her. The color of his eyes was somewhere between green and brown, and they contained glittering specks like small fires. His intense scrutiny was unsettling.
Shifting his gaze to Alex and his father, the king said, “My wolves ride together. Excellent! ”
“Sire,” said Talisand’s lord, bowing his head to the younger man as Sir Geoffroi and Alex did the same. Merewyn bowed her head and said nothing.
“ Bonne chasse! ” The king proclaimed, bidding them a good hunt, and left them, walking his magnificent stallion toward the front of the party.
“Who is the one who rides beside him?” she asked Alex, noting a certain resemblance except for the dark hair of the king’s companion.
“Duke Robert, the king’s older brother. They are currently at peace since their treaty at Caen. The duke intends to accompany William’s army to Scotland because he knows Malcolm.”
She accepted that it was a knight’s duty to serve his king, but she did not like to think of Alex riding to war. Dismissing her fears about Scotland, she watched the king and his brother riding off.
When the king was a dozen feet away, he turned in his saddle to look back at her before resuming his path to the front of the party.
“Was it my pony that drew the king’s attention?” she whispered to Alex.
Alex gave out a frustrated sigh. “William has seen white horses before. Likely even Welsh ponies. Nay, ’twas not your pony. He may be wondering why I would bring a page to a hunt. Too, he will have noticed your bow and arrows. But more likely ’twas your womanly features that made him turn to study you further. I’ve no doubt he considers you a most winsome lad.”
Her cheeks heated at the compliment Alex had paid her no matter she was disguised as a boy. “But I did naught to draw his attention.”
“In truth, I fear you could not have avoided it. William likes lads, especially feminine ones.”
What did Alex mean? Before she could ask, the horn sounded and the hounds bayed loudly from deeper into the forest.
The score of riders were suddenly off, cantering after the king. The earth trembled at the pounding hooves. Merewyn forgot all and charged forward, thrilling at their swift pace as they dashed through the forest, following the sound of the baying hounds.
At first, the path was straight and wide and Ceinder held a steady gait. But soon, the riders spread out and the path she was on narrowed and took a tortuous turn through the woods. Merewyn tried to hold to Alex’s left side .
“Stay close,” he cautioned, keeping pace with the others.
How could she stay close and still take a deer? She could not!
They raced on for a while, a daring chase, winding through trees while trying to stay clear of the other riders.
Ahead, the men’s shouts told her some of the deer had changed course, doubling back. With the dogs barking loudly and scrambling to keep up, a deer darted into the meadow she had just entered, heading straight toward her. Seeing the horses, the deer leaped to the left, hurtling toward the cover of the woods.
Her eyes never leaving the deer, Merewyn laid her knotted reins on Ceinder’s neck and galloped in pursuit, guiding the pony with only her legs. Keeping the deer in sight as it headed into the woods, she nocked an arrow, pulled back the bowstring and let the arrow fly.
Ahead, the deer dropped to the ground, the sound a heavy crash echoing through the trees.
Merewyn slowed as she neared the kill. “I got him!”
Alex rode up behind her, a frown on his face. “I suppose I should congratulate you on a great shot but I cannot be happy for the attention it will bring you.”
As if his words were prophetic, the ground shook with the pounding of many horses coming toward them.
“Look! The page has taken a deer,” a man’s voice shouted. “A stag!”
Merewyn dropped from her horse to check on her kill, to be certain the hart was dead. The men gathered around her.
“ Parfait . ’Tis a clean kill, master page,” said the man she recognized as the king’s brother. “A worthy display of skill, shooting from your horse. ’Tis few who would attempt such a feat.”
“A page skilled with a bow?” queried the king riding up beside his brother to study her. “Most unusual. My brother has great skill at archery, young page. ’Tis high praise he gives you.”
Merewyn bent her head and went down on one knee before the king and the duke, but remembering Alex’s caution, said nothing.
“Rise, page,” ordered the king.
Merewyn managed to stand, but her knees were shaking.
“I would have a name,” the king said to Alex.
Alex hesitated, then spit out, “Mer… Merry. ”
“Meriwether,” the king said, apparently reaching for the name he associated with the nickname. “A fitting English name for one who hunts on a day when the sun shines. Bring your page to the feast tonight, Sir Alex. I would see more of this Merry.” And with that, the king ordered one of his servants to take the deer back to the palace and add it to the others the hunters had taken. “Tonight,” the king pronounced as he rode away, “we dine on venison!”
When they were gone, she stood, looking up at Alex, who was frowning down at her from his horse. “Now you have done it.”
“Whatever do you mean? I but shot a deer. Surely you deemed it possible? And tonight, I can go disguised as your page, can I not?”
Before Alex could answer, Rory and Guy rode up. “What happened?” asked Guy.
“I felled a deer,” she informed him.
“And drew the interest of the king who wishes the page he now knows as ‘Merry’ to join the feast tonight.”
Rory let out a whistle.
Guy’s frown joined Alex’s. “Oh, that does pose a problem.”
Merewyn surveyed the faces of the three men, her gaze finally resting upon Alex. He ran his fingers through his long black hair. “Just so,” he said.
Dropping from his stallion, he helped her remount and fixed her bow and arrows behind her. He was displeased, but why?
Alex lifted himself into his saddle. “Now I must decide if ’tis better for her to remain as my page and hope the king’s interest wanes with his other diversions or have her dress as a lady and ward off the lust of the king’s men. Either way, ’twill be an onerous evening.”
Merewyn disliked being discussed as if she were not there. “I fail to understand how that is your decision, Alex. Besides, while I first thought to go as your page, if I am to join your lady mother and Earl Renaud in the king’s hall, I will be expected to wear a gown.”
“She has the right of it,” said Rory, nodding his head. “My mother would expect the same of my sisters.”
“So be it,” said Alex with a look of resignation. “I will wear my sword should it be required. You may have brought us much trouble, my lady. ”
She could hardly see how women were responsible for the lust of the king’s men. After all, there was nothing remarkable in her or her attire. All ladies wore similar gowns.
“’Twill at least be an interesting evening,” said Rory.
“Best we not consume much wine,” cautioned Alex. “Come, let us find my father and yours, Guy, and see if the hunt continues. If not, we should make our way back to London.”
On their return, Alex rode beside her, his eyes straight ahead, his face expressionless. She knew he worried over the king’s notice of her. “How did you choose the name you gave the king?”
“I just took the first name that came to me.”
“’Tis odd you picked that one. It is the name I was called in Wales.”