Chapter Eleven #3
“He was not assuming anything, Douglass,” he said patiently. “I believe he was simply being kind. If you are not feeling well, then mayhap you should retire until the evening meal. You will be in a better humor then.”
Douglass kept her back to Tallis. “I do not want to retire,” she said petulantly, praying her father didn’t become too angry with her. “I want to remain here.”
“Mayhap it would be better if you did not.”
“I said I am staying. You cannot force me to go!”
Bose wasn’t sure where this bad behavior was coming from but he knew he didn’t like it.
She was making a bad impression on Tallis but, as he thought about it, perhaps that was her plan.
If she discouraged Tallis, then the path would be clear for Tiberius.
Aye, he could see through her scheme quite clearly.
Frustrated, he resisted the urge to swat her on her arse.
Grabbing her arm to get her attention, he leaned down into her ear.
“You will cease this behavior or you will not like my reaction,” he whispered. “You are embarrassing me. Be kind or not only will Tallis not want you, but I can assure you Tiberius will never have you, either. Is that clear?”
Douglass knew he meant it and she had never been very good at taking a stand against her father. So much for her clever plan for discouraging Tallis. With a heavy sigh, she begrudgingly turned to Tallis.
“My apologies for being snappish, my lord,” she said. “I… I suppose the trip was more exhausting than I thought. Will you please sit? I understand your family is from Cornwall. Tell me of it.”
She said it simply to make her father happy but the relief on Tallis’ face was obvious.
The man literally breathed a sigh of relief as he took a seat across the table from her, not too close but enough so that he could look her in the eye.
Everything Tallis had done so far had been polite, thoughtful, and considerate.
He had been well-schooled with his manners.
“Thank you, my lady,” he said sincerely.
“I was born at St. Austell Castle in Cornwall. It has been my family’s home for several generations.
The castle guards the bay of St. Austell and when I was a very young lad, my father used to take me with him to inspect the ships that docked in the bay.
As a result, I have a great love for the sea but, unfortunately, I do not have the opportunity to see it much. Have you ever been to sea, my lady?”
He was animated as he spoke, describing the bay with big, sweeping motions of his hands. Douglass shook her head at his question.
“I have not,” she admitted. “My father’s castle of Ravendark is far from the sea but my mother’s family’s castle, Chaldon, is very close to the sea. I have walked along the rocky shore, many times.”
Tallis smiled. “Then we shall have to remedy that,” he said. “I have my own cog. I have sailed to France and Spain many times. I would like to invite you and your father to sail with me sometime.”
Douglass smiled weakly, looking to Bose, who was shaking his head. “I do not sail for pleasure,” he said frankly. “The rocking of ships makes me ill. I only travel on boats out of necessity.”
Tallis laughed softly, prevented from answering when heavy and swift bootfalls sounded in the entry.
He turned, unconcerned, as did Bose and Douglass, to see Tiberius entering the hall.
It was clear by his expression that he did not look pleased and Bose, who was closer to him, realized that Grayson must have told him about Tallis’ appearance.
It was clear as if Tiberius had shouted it.
As Tiberius stormed towards the table, Bose had to do some very fast thinking or the situation was about to turn bloody very quickly. He stood up to intercept him.
“My lord,” Bose said, putting his hand on Tiberius’ chest to stop him from charging d’Vant.
“Have you met Sir Tallis d’Vant yet? He is one of Henry’s great ones.
Surely he has heard of you, as… well, as young King Alexander’s personal guard.
Sir Tallis, this is Sir Eric du Bonne, a man appointed by Henry to protect the young Scots king. Will you greet him?”
Tiberius looked at Bose as if the man had lost his mind but the ruse momentarily worked. Tiberius was so off-guard by Bose’s words that he paused in confusion long enough for Tallis to rise from his seat and approach him. Now, Tallis was on the offensive as Tiberius stood in bewilderment.
“Sir Eric,” Tallis greeted politely. “It is an honor, my lord. I apologize that I have not heard of you but I am sure you are very accomplished. Where did you foster?”
Tiberius was still looking at Bose, greatly perplexed.
He couldn’t quite figure out why de Moray had said such a thing and his first reaction was to call the man out as a liar.
But just as quickly, he realized he could not do that.
De Moray’s reputation was beyond question and to declare the man a fabricator would only make Tiberius look foolish and mad.
Whatever de Moray was up to, it had been a clever move on his part.
Tiberius had no choice but to confirm whatever the man said, especially if he wanted to marry de Moray’s daughter.
He was trying to impress the man and calling him a liar would not be the best way to go about doing that.
“I…,” Tiberius stammered, struggling to concoct a story. “I fostered at Nottingham. And you?”
Tallis smiled politely. “Alnwick,” he replied. “I have heard the du Bonne name. Where is your family from?”
“Du Bonne is my wife’s family name,” Bose said, averting that subject. “Come, let us sit and become better acquainted.”
Tallis went to resume his seat but Bose had to shove Tiberius to get him moving.
Tiberius was looking at Bose as if the man had lost his mind but Bose shot him an expression that suggested he’d better go along with whatever was said.
As the three of them moved to the table where Douglass was now standing, looking anxiously at Tiberius, Grayson came rushing in through the entry door.
“Ty!” he sounded, rounding the corner into the hall. “Tiber…!”
Grayson shut his mouth when Bose whirled around and gave him a cleaving motion with his hand to shut him down.
As Tiberius went to take a seat next to Douglass, Bose made his way back to Grayson and muttered a few short words to the man.
Grayson’s eyes flickered in understanding but he didn’t react other than that.
The mood, however, was set. Something covert was afoot.
Bose returned to the table as Grayson called for refreshments.
“How do you like Scotland, Sir Eric?” Tallis asked courteously. “I have personally never been. I hear it is quite cold with big mountains and wild Scots.”
Tiberius had never been to Scotland, either. He eyed Bose as the man took his seat as if to say damn you, man! Clearing his throat softly, he answered.
“All Scots are wild,” he said, joking his way out of it without directly answering the question. “But let’s not speak of me, let us speak of you. You must spend a great deal of time in London with the king. What brings you to Wintercroft?”
Everyone in the room knew why he was at Wintercroft but it was a clever way of turning the conversation around and off of him.
Tallis smiled genuinely. “I am here on the king’s business,” he said simply, a proper answer for a knight who was not supposed to go around running his mouth, not even with trusted colleagues.
“I have never been here before, actually. I must say that it is a rather strangely-built place. Whoever designed Wintercroft, Lord Grayson?”
Now it was Tallis’ turn to be clever, putting the focus on their host, Grayson. So far, both Tiberius and Tallis had been shrewd enough to take the focus off of themselves and turn it on to others in the room. Grayson, seeing he was now the subject of focus, gave everyone a forced smile.
“My parents,” he replied. “My mother wanted a manor but my father wanted a working fortress. Wintercroft’s odd shape is the result.
Odd or not, it is quite impenetrable and quite comfortable.
Sir Bose, of course, has quite a mighty fortress in his home of Ravendark. Lady Douglass, were you born there?”
The focus was bouncing all over the place. Douglass, who had been looking at Tiberius, was suddenly very self-conscious with all eyes now on her.
“I was,” she said, not wanting to be the center of this very strange and tense gathering. “Sir Tallis, tell us more about your cog – the one you were speaking of earlier. How far have you sailed it?”
Now it was back on Tallis, who was quite happy to speak with Douglass, so much so that he was oblivious to Tiberius’ dark expression.
Grayson noticed it, however, and he kicked Tiberius under the table, right in the man’s shin.
Tiberius grunted in pain, covering the noise with a cough and then appearing apologetic when both Douglass and Tallis looked at him curiously. He pointed to his throat.
“Dry,” he said, a lame excuse. “Long ride.”
It was a good enough excuse and Tallis returned his attention back to Douglass just as a pair of servants entered the hall with pitchers and cups.
“I have sailed as far as Corsica,” Tallis said as the pitchers and cups were set on the table and wine began to flow. “I would like to sail to the north of Africa someday or mayhap even to The Levant. Do you like to travel, then, my lady? Even if it is not by boat?”
Douglass opened her mouth to reply when both of Grayson’s sons entered the hall.
Davyss was followed by his younger brother, Hugh de Winter, a compact and muscular knight just like his father.
Unfortunately, neither man knew of the ruse to disguise Tiberius’ identity from Henry’s knight and before Grayson could get to either of them, Hugh spoke up.