Chapter Two #2
Rose’s gaze was on the far end of the table where the Duke and Duchess of Colchester were talking to several other finely-dressed people.
There was a cluster of them. In fact, there were so many people around the duke and duchess, holding their attention, that Rose came to an abrupt halt.
When Lyssa looked at her, curiously, the woman turned on her heel and began dragging her niece in the opposite direction.
“I cannot know what Hawisa would request of you, but it cannot be good,” she muttered.
“I cannot take you to them in good conscience. I will tell them that you have taken sick and are returning to The Wix. Forgive me, Lyssie, but nothing they can want of you would be proper or decent. You know of the prince and his wife; you know what they stand for. You must go home and remain there. I did not want you to come tonight in the first place, but the duchess insisted that all of her ladies attend.”
Now Lyssa was feeling some fear. She wanted to look back at the head of the table where the duke and duchess were, but she didn’t dare.
She knew what her aunt was referring to, the debauchery and brutality that surrounded the prince and his wife, but it was something that really wasn’t spoken of.
Only rumors, really. But now, Rose was voicing those rumors, giving them credence, and Lyssa was growing nervous.
Her aunt pulled her to the opposite side of the table where Rickard, Tristiana, and Garret were still standing.
Lyssa could feel her heart pounding as they approached the man she’d been trying not to stare at all evening.
The greatest knight in all of England.
When he looked at her, Lyssa could feel her knees turn to jelly.
*
Truth be told, Garret knew Lyssa had been looking at him, but he’d been looking at her, too.
He wondered if his expression alone would convey his interest but she kept looking away from him every time their eyes would meet.
Like some coy game, their gazes never quite met, leaving Garret the slightest bit desperate to catch the woman’s attention.
It had been difficult to keep his focus on his brother.
Rickard de Moray was seventeen months older than his brother, about twenty pounds heavier, and two inches shorter.
He was an excellent knight, powerful and brave, and had the de Moray black eyes that everyone else in the family had.
He had a ready laugh and an excellent command presence, just as his brother did, and Garret adored the man.
Times like this, where they were able to talk between them, were far and few between, but Garret was distracted by a beautiful woman.
It didn’t take Rickard long to figure out where his brother’s attention was.
“Did you hear me, Garret?” he asked.
Garret was looking at him but he had a faraway expression. It took him a moment to realize his brother had addressed him. “Aye, I heard you.”
“What did I say?”
Garret took a healthy gulp from his cup. “You were speaking of your son, soon to be born.”
Rickard snorted. “Aye, I spoke of him several minutes ago,” he said. “I was speaking of the nobles now flocking to Normandy and the king’s re-conquest campaign. I’ve heard the de Lohrs are heading there.”
“Oh?”
Rickard grinned and shook his head. “God’s Bones, Garret,” he said. “I realize that I am not nearly as fascinating as Lady Lyssa, but the least you could do is pretend to be interested in what I am saying.”
Garret looked at him, a twinkle in his eye. “Is it that obvious?” he asked casually.
Rickard nodded firmly. “It is,” he said. “And I do not blame you. She has every man at Colchester hot and bothered, if you know what I mean, including the duke. It is not a good situation.”
The glimmer faded from Garret’s eye. “What do you mean?”
Rickard’s gaze moved down the table where the lovely Lady Lyssa was sitting with another young lady-in-waiting.
“She came to Colchester only a few months ago,” he muttered.
“She caught the duke’s attention right away.
Look at her; you can see how beautiful she is.
But the duchess has tried everything she can possibly do to keep Lady Lyssa out of her husband’s sight or, at the very least, out of his mind.
She dresses the girl in shapeless clothing, keeps her confined to rooms with sewing projects for weeks on end.
Lady Lyssa is the niece of Lady Rose, who has more or less been a mother to the duchess, and when the duchess agreed to allow Lady Lyssa to come to Colchester, she had no idea just how beautiful the girl was.
My wife says that the duchess is terribly jealous of her. ”
Garret thought that all sounded like a very unhappy situation. “Is she cruel to Lady Lyssa?”
Rickard shook his head. “Not from what I have seen,” he said.
“But she does keep the girl out of sight. Other than stare at the woman, I’ve not seen the duke make any move towards her, but he’s a bastard with little self-control.
Unless the duchess can keep a tight rein on him, Lady Lyssa may not be a permanent resident of the House of de Nantes.
The duchess will be forced to send her away. ”
So the lovely woman with the catch in her speech had a rather sad existence at Colchester. Garret digested that information. “Do you know where she comes from?”
Rickard shook his head. “I have never asked,” he said. “Tristiana has not mentioned it. Ah, look at my lovely wife. She is coming to join us.”
Garret turned to see his brother’s wife coming upon them.
Tristiana de Dere de Moray beamed at her husband and brother-in-law as she approached, a petite woman who was quite round with pregnancy.
It was her second pregnancy in two years, the first child having been stillborn.
Garret bent over to kiss the woman on the cheek in greeting.
“Tristiana,” he said. “You are looking lovely. How is my nephew these days?”
Tristiana rubbed at her swollen belly through the layers of fabric she was wearing. “He is ready to fight with his father already,” she said. “He keeps me up at night and sleeps during the day. I am exhausted.”
Garret grinned. “I look forward to meeting him next month,” he said. “And Garret is a marvelous name for him, by the way. I strongly recommend it.”
Tristiana laughed softly. “You will have to take that up with your brother,” she said. “For my part, I wish to name him Dag, after my father, but Rickard is not in complete agreement.”
Garret looked at his brother. “God’s Bones, Rickard, she is the one doing all the work when it comes to bearing your son,” he pointed out. “Let the woman name the child. It is the least you can do for forcing her to carry your enormous son.”
Rickard sneered at him. “Very well. I was considering naming him Garret, after you, but I will reconsider that now. Dag is a better name than Garret, anyway.”
Garret laughed. “It is not and you know it,” he said, seeing Tristiana’s unhappy face. He quickly sought to make amends. “What I meant to say is that Dag is perfect, my lady, truly.”
As Tristiana’s smile returned, Garret made a face at his brother when she wasn’t looking, letting him know just what he thought of that name.
As Rickard tried not to let his wife see him laugh, they were interrupted when Lady Rose, the duchess’ premier lady-in-waiting, suddenly joined them.
And she wasn’t alone. Garret found himself looking straight at Lyssa, held firmly in her aunt’s grip.
His heart leaped at the sight of her.
“Sir Rickard,” Rose said quietly, getting the man’s attention. “I need your assistance. You must take my niece back to The Wix at once. She must not be here.”
Rickard looked at her with concern. “What has happened?” he asked.
Rose eyed the man with an expression that was serious, indeed. “Hawisa has asked for Lyssa,” she said simply. “You must remove her from this place.”
Rickard set his cup down, looking over his shoulder to the far end of the table where his liege was in conversation with some of the prince’s men.
He didn’t question Rose further; he knew what she meant.
Suddenly, there was tension in the air where moments before had only been pleasant conversation.
Where John and Hawisa were concerned, there was always tension.
“We knew it was only a matter of time,” he said quietly, reaching out to grasp Lyssa’s elbow.
“If they have not seen Lady Lyssa, then they will see Juliana or one of the others. It is fresh meat to them and I would like to remove all of the young women from this den of depravity if I could. But I must not leave. I will have one of my men take Lady Lyssa.”
“I will do it,” Garret said. As everyone looked to him, surprised that he should offer, he set his cup down and reached out to take Lyssa from his brother. “Make sure I am not followed, for if she has been sighted….”
“They will want her.”
“Exactly.”
Rickard nodded, positioning his body so that it would block most of the view from the opposite end of the table.
“You know where The Wix is, Garret,” he said. “Thank you for returning her.”
Garret simply nodded. “Watch my back, Brother.”
“You know I will.”
With that, Lyssa was abruptly whisked through the great hall and out of a servant’s entrance that was nearest to them. It all passed in a blur. In fact, Lyssa was pulled through people, pulled into the shadows, and suddenly they were outside on the torch-lit grounds of Westminster.
It was cool outside now that the sun had set but the humidity from the river was still heavy in the air.
A bit frightened, and quite confused, Lyssa felt she was being dragged away under the cover of darkness, being hustled to safety from unseen forces that were out to do her harm.
Garret was moving swiftly and she was struggling to keep up.
In the darkness, she tripped, and he came to an instant halt.