Chapter Eight
Ambra and Aleanor were painting.
At least, Aleanor was painting. Ambra was doing…
something. She said they were flowers and trees, but they didn’t look much like flowers and trees.
They looked like squiggly shapes with colors.
There were little brown splotches that were supposed to be people and other round things with stick legs that were horses.
Ambra was happily painting an entire village of splotch people.
For all of Aleanor’s nervousness and odd propensities, she was surprisingly patient with her younger sister.
She made the paints herself out of onion skins and dandelion roots, any number of colored berries, or even fresh, green grass.
She and her sister would paint on scraps that would come from a variety of sources – pieces of ruined clothing, or sometimes even tree bark.
Amabella watched her daughters work on their paintings intermittently as she stood by the window overlooking the bailey. Since her conversation with Atlas, she’d been unable to return to the sewing she’d been doing, unable to focus on anything other than reliving the discussion with her son.
She worried about him, a young man now with great responsibilities thrust upon him. That, more than anything, pressed upon her. Finally, her restlessness soon got the better of her and she left her daughters to their painting and headed from the chamber.
It had been quite a day. So much had happened that Amabella needed a few moments alone to process it.
The past two days had been life-changing, twenty years into a marriage that had been hell on earth.
She didn’t know what the future held for her and her family now, but with Atlas now the Lord of Trastamara, she knew one thing –
They were all free.
As the afternoon passed and the news of Atlas and the removal of Shand began to sink in, Amabella broke down in tears more than once. It came in waves. Her moments of tears were brief, but they were tears of joy and relief. Tears that God had been merciful in a way she could have never imagined.
It was more than she could have ever hoped for.
Leaving Aleanor and Ambra painting the splotch people in her solar under Savia’s watchful eyes, she was just coming down the stairs with the intention of heading to the kitchens to check on the evening meal when she heard a door open.
Shand suddenly appeared, followed by two knights she didn’t recognize, both of them heavily-armed and both of them bearing de Wolfe tunics.
Amabella froze on the stairs, carefully watching what was happening on the entry level.
She could hear voices in her husband’s solar, recognizing one of them to be Atlas.
It occurred to her that she had just witnessed Atlas sending Shand away, under an armed escort no less, and it was difficult to contain her disbelief.
She’d just witnessed something she never thought she would see and given her conversation with Shand earlier that day, things had happened quickly, indeed.
She’d gone from terrified of being forced into a marriage to relief beyond measure.
Quietly, she made her way down the remainder of the stairs. The solar door was cracked open and she could still hear voices, but her attention was on the wide-open entry door. She could see into the bailey beyond and she watched as Shand marched across the dusty bailey with his de Wolfe escort.
Evidently, they were heading for the outbuildings that sheltered some of the soldiers. It was also where Shand was housed, near the gatehouse. As she stood in the doorway and watched, she heard a voice behind her.
“Lady de Sauque?”
Startled, she turned to see Markus standing behind her and her momentary fright turned to relief. She put her hand on her chest to ease her racing heart.
“Sweet Mary, you surprised me,” she said, smiling. “You are as quiet as a mouse when you move.”
Markus returned her smile. “It is all of that intense training I have gone through,” he said. “I have learned to sneak up on unsuspecting women.”
There was humor in his reply, something that was quite endearing. “Then you learned your lesson well, for I never heard you.”
His eyes twinkled. “That is good, for I have worked hard on it,” he said. “In fact, I was just coming to see you. I have a question that mayhap only you can answer, but I see that you are going about your duties. Is this an inconvenient time?”
Amabella shook her head. “Not at all. I was simply going to the kitchen to see to tonight’s meal.” Quickly, her smile faded. “That is not entirely true. I was standing here because I saw Shand crossing the bailey with an escort. Is… is he leaving?”
Markus looked over her head, towards the gatehouse where the knights’ quarters were located. “He is.”
“For good?”
“For good.”
Amabella drew in a long, pensive breath as she let that sink in. But in that same breath, she also found herself looking at Markus. Their first meeting a short while ago had been brief and intense, and she thought back to her initial impression of him – handsome and young.
But he’d made her feel worthy.
In just the brief few moments they’d spoken, he’d made her feel safe and comforted. As the sunlight streamed in from the bailey and hit him like a beacon, she found herself taking a second look at him.
As a man.
Amabella was coming to think her eyesight must have failed her the first time around because she didn’t remember his eyes being so pale and lovely.
The virtuous young knight made her feel strangely alive.
Giddy, even. She hadn’t felt that way in over twenty years, so it came as something of a surprise.
Markus de Wolfe arrived and, suddenly, everything seemed brighter. The future itself looked brighter.
Amabella couldn’t have been more grateful.
“That is something I never expected to happen,” she said belatedly. “To think that he is finally leaving is difficult to believe. And my son? How did Atlas handle the situation?”
“With great maturity,” Markus said. “In fact, my father is in the solar with him right now. They are discussing the details of Shand’s situation, but Atlas specifically asked me to inquire about his father’s coinage because he must give some to Shand as a parting gift.
He thought you might know where it was hidden. ”
Amabella cocked her head thoughtfully. “I think so,” she said.
“If it is not in his solar somewhere, which I doubt, it would be in his bedchamber, which is on the top floor of the keep. But a word, Sir Knight… Shand might know where it is, too. He and Roget were very close. If he is leaving, you will want to ensure he is not taking my husband’s money with him. ”
It was a good point. “I will make sure he is searched before he departs,” Markus said.
“He has two seasoned knights guarding him and they will not let him get away with anything. Meanwhile, may I ask you to come with me to search his bedchamber? Atlas wants control of the coinage, for obvious reasons.”
Amabella immediately moved to grant his request. “Of course I shall help,” she said, heading back towards the stairs.
“Although Roget never confided in such things to me, I am going on assumptions. My father had a hiding place for his money in his chamber, which became Roget’s chamber, so I am assuming Roget used the same spot. ”
Markus followed her up the stairs, her swaying backside nearly eye-level with him because of the angle of the stairs. He found himself staring at her gently swaying hips as he followed her up to the floor above.
There wasn’t one part of the woman that wasn’t lush, as he’d noticed the first time, but being in such close proximity to her buttocks was making him feel a little flushed.
A little… hot. He was so hypnotized that he failed to notice a young girl rushing from the small solar by the time they hit the landing.
“Ama!” the girl cried. “Ama, I want to find Alfie!”
She crashed right into Amabella and the woman paused to pick the child up. “Are you finished painting, then?” she asked.
The child nodded firmly. “I want to play with Alfie now.”
Markus could tell that this was one of Lady de Sauque’s children because she favored her mother greatly with hair the exact same color, only on the child, it flowed freely.
It was long and curly, a magnificent mane of red hair, and her eyes were as green as emeralds.
She was an astonishingly beautiful child.
“I saw Alfie with his horse guard in the kitchen yard not long ago,” Markus said helpfully.
Amabella turned to look at him, smiling. “That is his favorite place to play,” she said. “This is his sister, Ambra. She is my youngest.”
Markus smiled faintly at the little girl. “My lady,” he greeted formally.
Ambra turned her big, green eyes on him. She looked him over before grinning shyly, sticking her finger in her mouth. It was apparent that it was all the conversation she was capable of at the moment and Amabella smiled apologetically as she set Ambra to her feet.
“She is not much for conversation unless you are discussing food,” she said. “Then, she will not stay silent.”
Markus chuckled. “Food, is it?” he said. “I’ve heard that about men, but never women. What kind of food do you like best?”
Ambra still had her finger in her mouth, chewing on it as she clung to her mother’s skirt. “I don’t know,” she said. “I like a lot.”
Amabella bent over, looking her daughter in the face. “What about the yellow eggs?”
Ambra nodded eagerly. “I like yellow eggs!”
Markus grinned. “Yellow eggs? What are those?”
Amabella glanced up at him. “Stuffed eggs,” she said. “The cook makes them with raisins and saffron. Ambra loves them.”
Markus was still focused on the child. “They sound delicious,” he said. “Will you share some with me?”
Ambra giggled, pressing her face into her mother’s skirts. “Nay!”
Markus feigned great shock. “You won’t?” he said. “I am terribly hurt.”