Chapter Three
So much for his plans.
Bric had plotted out his introduction to his betrothed ever since he realized he had no recourse in the matter. He had told Keeva that he would not let anyone interfere in his marriage, and he would treat his wife as he saw fit.
Therefore, his plans were to be cool and distant from her, but not impolite.
By virtue of the fact that she was his wife and would bear his name, he would show her all due respect, but nothing more than that.
He was grossly unhappy with the turn of events and positive that she was not.
He was certain that she would be most delighted to be married to de Winter’s High Warrior, sinking her claws into him, but he was going to make it clear that he took no delight in being married to her, even if she was Dashiell’s cousin.
But the moment he met Eiselle, that opinion changed.
First, her beauty had caught him off guard.
She looked like an angel. Then, the first words out of her mouth hadn’t been words at all, but a burp that had nearly blown him onto his arse.
Most men would have been disgusted by it but, for some strange reason, he hadn’t been.
In that brief and somewhat shameful moment, the woman had endeared herself to him before she’d even spoken a word.
In her embarrassment, he’d seen something that he hadn’t expected from her – grace.
She’d handled the situation with grace and dignity, at least as much as she was able. No weeping, no fits. Simply acceptance.
He was very surprised to see that.
But, then again, perhaps not so surprised when he remembered who she was related to. Dashiell du Reims was a man of great courage and honor, so it was little surprise that his female cousin was imbued with the same.
An introduction that the lady thought went so terribly wrong, in fact, went well in her favor.
Even now, he’d taken her into the great hall of Narborough and stood aside as Daveigh and Keeva were introduced to her.
It gave him time to inspect the woman as she politely fielded their questions; she wasn’t very tall, but she wasn’t tiny, either.
Clad in a pale green shift and surcoat that matched the color of her eyes, her curly dark hair was pulled into a braid, but the natural curl had tendrils escaping, giving her a halo of curls around her sweetly oval face.
And pretty? Bloody Christ, he’d never seen a prettier woman.
That had been utterly unexpected. That so lovely a woman wasn’t yet spoken for made no sense to him but, then again, if she greeted all suitors the way she’d greeted him – with a burst of noxious fumes shooting from her mouth – then he supposed he wasn’t overly surprised.
It had been like a dragon’s fire breath.
Maybe she used it like a shield to chase off the unworthy. But on him, it hadn’t worked.
Vast, complete curiosity was all he could feel for her at the moment.
“Please, sit,” Keeva told the woman in her heavy Irish accent, indicating the nearest bench. “You must be very tired from your journey. Hadleigh House, isn’t it? My husband tells me that it is to the south.”
As Bric moved to the opposite side of the table where he could watch her better, Eiselle nodded. “Aye, Lady de Winter,” she said as she took her seat. “The house was given to my grandmother many years ago and we have always lived there. It is a lovely place.”
Keeva sat down next to her. “Tell me of yourself, Lady Eiselle,” she said. “When we received the missive from your cousin, we were quite happy with his offer, but we know so very little of you other than you are Dashiell du Reims’ cousin.”
Eiselle smiled timidly. “My life has been fairly unspectacular, my lady,” she said.
“I was born at Hadleigh House in Suffolk and lived there until I was fifteen, whereupon the Earl of East Anglia arranged for me to go to Framlingham Castle to foster. I was there for a year before returning home, and I have worked in my father’s stall ever since. ”
Keeva was very interested. “What is your father’s business?”
“He is a merchant, my lady. He imports goods from France and sells them in his stall in Bury St. Edmunds.”
“And you have learned much about his business, have you?”
Eiselle nodded. “I can count money and do sums in my head,” she said. “My father has taught me how to read and write, also. He felt it was important for me to know.”
Keeva looked at Bric, who was studying the lovely young woman quite intently. “Did you hear that?” she asked him. “Your betrothed knows how to do sums and read. She’s an accomplished woman, Bric.”
Bric didn’t like the way Keeva had said it, as if he needed to be convinced that the lovely creature before him was smart and talented and worthy of him. Perhaps that had been true yesterday, but it wasn’t true today.
In fact, Bric was becoming increasingly interested in the woman he was betrothed to.
She had a soft, delicate voice, something that was quite mesmerizing.
She also had a way of wrinkling up that pert little nose when she smiled.
He thought it was rather charming. For someone who had been so staunchly against the marriage, he was folding rather easily, and it was a struggle for him to not feel foolish about it.
“She is, indeed,” he said. He didn’t want to get to know the woman in front of an audience, but he thought he may as well start. Keeva wasn’t going to let the woman go any time soon. “You mentioned that you fostered at Framlingham?”
Eiselle turned in his direction. “Aye, my lord.”
“You were there for a short amount of time.”
“I was there long enough to learn how to run a household, how to paint, and I learned how to sing in Italian. Just a little.”
She didn’t seem inclined to elaborate on why she’d only spent a year at Framlingham when most young women fostered for several years.
His gaze lingered on her for a moment before simply nodding.
He wanted to ask her more, and talk to her more, but he was increasingly resistant to do it in front of Keeva and Daveigh.
If Eiselle was to be his wife, then he wanted to know her in private, just the two of them.
But he suspected Keeva and Daveigh were present for fear that Bric might somehow be rude, considering how he’d made his displeasure with this betrothal known, so he really couldn’t blame them.
They wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to offend or upset the woman.
Of that, he had no intention, but he genuinely wanted to be alone with her and was frustrated by the fact that he was not.
“Then I look forward to hearing you sing for me some time,” he said, standing up. He was still in his armor and protection, and even still wearing his helm. He hadn’t taken it off. “You will forgive me for begging my leave, but I have pressing duties to attend to.”
As he stood up, Daveigh stood up and stopped him from moving away from the table. “Where are you going?” he asked, concerned but trying not to look as if he were. “Surely you would like to remain here and speak with the lady.”
Bric could see the stress in Daveigh’s face. “And I will, in time,” he said. “At the moment, you and Lady de Winter have her occupied, so I will leave you to your conversation.”
Daveigh was picking up on Bric’s frustration, but he was at a loss to understand why the man was upset, other than the fact that his betrothed had arrived. He lifted his eyebrows.
“Would you prefer that we leave?” he asked.
Bric thought he would sound rather ridiculous if he agreed. He’d shown nothing but resistance to this woman, and now he wanted to be alone with her? Confusion joined his frustration, and the more he debated about his response, the more embarrassed he became.
He needed to get out of there.
“I have duties to attend to,” he said again. “Nottingham scouts have been sighted in the area and I should be out with my men. I will entrust Lady Eiselle to your care until I return.”
With that, he moved around Daveigh and headed out of the hall at a quick pace.
He disappeared swiftly and Eiselle watched him go.
She could sense that the man wanted nothing to do with her and her heart sank.
She’d asked him what he’d expected in a wife, but it was clear that he wanted no part of the arrangement.
She had expressed a fear of falling short of his expectations and he’d alluded to the fact that he didn’t think that would be possible but, perhaps, he’d had time to think about it.
Perhaps, she was indeed falling short of what he’d expected.
Feeling rather sad and unwanted, she spoke.
“Sir Bric is a very busy and important man,” she said, trying to sound as if his rapid departure didn’t bother her in the least. “I am sure he has many duties to attend to and idle chatter is not among them. Lady de Winter, if you would be so kind as to show me to my chamber, I would be very grateful. It has been a long trip and I should like to rest before supper.”
Keeva thought she heard sadness in Eiselle’s voice and it was all she could do to keep her temper. Bric had succeeded in offending the woman and she was positively livid at the man. But to Eiselle, she was polite and helpful.
“Of course, my lady,” she said. “I have a lovely chamber prepared for you on the top floor. It faces south, so there is sun most of the day. I think you will be very pleased with it and… and I want you to know how very glad we are that you are here. In fact, we have already sent for the priest. He should be here this evening. We thought to have the wedding on the morrow.”
So soon. Eiselle was surprised to hear that. “As you say, my lady,” she said. “I am agreeable to whatever you wish.”
Keeva stood up from the bench, taking Eiselle politely by the arm. “Should we send word to your parents? We could delay it a day or two if they wish to attend.”