Chapter Twenty-Two
They were on the hunt for puppies again.
After walking in circles in the bailey of Lioncross, Adabella soon became bored and, after her, Ines became bored. Adabella began speaking of her puppy and her sister caught on. Soon enough, they were begging to see the puppies again and nothing Catalina said could distract them.
They were wild for puppies.
Unfortunately, the pony couldn’t compete with the lure of little dogs, especially when Adabella was genuinely under the impression that the puppy Essien had given her was, in fact, her puppy. It had run off, back into the stable next to the tournament field, and she wanted it back.
No amount of convincing otherwise could distract her.
After the third time around the bailey, Catalina had yet to see a servant she could send for Lady Hereford.
She wasn’t sure where they all were, but they weren’t in the ward.
She tried to get the attention of a soldier or two, but they were more focused on what was happening beyond the wall with the mass competition in the distance.
She hated to disobey Essien, but she simply hadn’t had the opportunity to send for the woman.
Perhaps a quick jaunt over to the tournament field, to the stable where the puppies were, could soothe her restless daughters and she could return to the bailey without Essien ever knowing she’d left it.
Moreover, he’d only asked that she remain where he could find her.
He hadn’t specified where. With Ines verging on a tantrum, she took the pony by the lead and headed for the gatehouse.
Unbeknownst to her, she had just missed Essien, Addax, Christopher, and David as they’d gone into the vault.
She was moving quickly, pulling the pony with Ines on its back and Adabella skipping alongside her.
She was starting to curse the fact that Essien had brought the puppy into their lives, but in the same breath, it made her smile because it had made Adabella so happy.
Essien seemed to have that gift with the women in the family already.
Past the gatehouse they went, heading toward the competitors’ encampment and the tournament field beyond.
She could see, clearly, her father’s encampment.
His soldiers were still there and the tent was still in disarray.
She thought that she caught sight of Christin’s husband still in the tent, but she wasn’t sure.
She didn’t even know if her father’s body had been taken care of.
In truth, she felt no real grief at his death.
He probably wouldn’t have felt any grief in the event of her death, either, so she didn’t feel guilty over it.
She was sorry for the way he’d died, however.
That had been shocking and awful. But now that he was gone, perhaps she felt some relief.
Relief that she no longer had to deal with her father’s mistreatment and apathy.
It was a strange feeling, indeed.
She led the pony past the competitors’ encampment, passing through an area that still had some vendors, and on through the gate that led to the staging area.
Off to the east, she could hear the crowd at the competition field, the low hum of excited spectators.
The long stable block was in front of her, but just as she came near, she heard an indignant female voice behind her.
“That’s my pony!”
She turned to see Rebecca heading toward her with Jonathan at her side. Remembering what a fuss Rebecca had put up the night before about her marriage to Essien, Catalina braced herself for the incoming storm.
“Good morn to you both,” she said pleasantly. “Lady Rebecca, my girls are so happy for the loan of your pony. Sir Addax found him in Lioncross’s stable and let the girls ride him. I hope he did not do wrong, did he?”
She had just outlined the entire situation for Rebecca, who was frowning deeply until she met with Catalina’s polite words. After that, there wasn’t much of a fit she could pitch about it, especially considering she hadn’t ridden that pony in years.
“Well,” she said, trying not to sound like a complete tyrant, “next time, he should ask.”
“Of course,” Catalina said. “I am very sorry he did not. Would… would you like to walk with us? We were just going inside the stable because there are puppies in there and my daughters want to see them very badly. Please come with us.”
Rebecca was completely thrown off guard by Catalina’s kindness.
She looked at Jonathan, who lifted his eyebrows encouragingly at her.
He’d just spent an hour inside the great hall lecturing her about being kind to others and how the loss of an infatuation meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.
When she didn’t reply right away to Catalina’s offer, he did.
“That is a very kind invitation, my lady,” he said. “I think Lady Rebecca would like to see the puppies, but I am expected at the competition field. May I leave her in your care?”
“Of course,” Catalina said, reaching out to take Rebecca’s elbow companionably. “Come with us, my lady. I want to hear about your love of ponies. Or do you have a horse these days? I’m certain you must have a beautiful one.”
As Jonathan smirked and headed off toward the competition field, Rebecca found herself being pulled away by her mortal enemy. Well, not so much her mortal enemy as someone who had caused her a good deal of anguish. Not that she’d deliberately caused it, but she had caused it, nonetheless.
… hadn’t she?
There was no solid answer to that question as Catalina herded Rebecca into the stable, along with the pony and the two little girls, and Rebecca simply went with it. When Jonathan was away completely, Catalina leaned into Rebecca as if they were old, dear friends.
“Sir Jonathan is quite handsome,” she said, giggling. “What a fine match he would be for you. So dashing and strong.”
Rebecca looked at her in surprise. “Wolfie?” she said. Then she frowned. “He is like one of my brothers.”
“But he is not one of your brothers,” Catalina said. “He is a de Wolfe. They breed very handsome men.”
Rebecca couldn’t dispute that. She shrugged. “Mayhap,” she said, ambivalent. “I’ve not thought on it.”
“You must,” Catalina said, giving the arm she was holding a squeeze.
“Look how beautiful you are. You could command the greatest husband in all of England. If Jonathan is not to your liking, then you must think high, my lady. Very high. Mayhap there is an eligible prince somewhere for you. I hear there are very handsome princes in Saxony.”
Rebecca was softened by the flattery in spite of herself.
She was also increasingly baffled at her own behavior.
Here she was, being pulled along by her hated enemy, the woman who’d married the man she couldn’t live without, and she was letting her.
Why was she letting her? She wasn’t resisting in the least. Catalina was sweet and charming, sweeping Rebecca off her feet with kindness.
At that moment, something Jonathan said came back to her.
How would you feel if you were Essien’s wife and some foolish girl was trying to take him away from you?
Here she was, with Essien’s wife. And she was the foolish girl, yet Lady al-Kort was being so kind. Since she’d never met the woman before yesterday’s wedding, she’d made up all sorts of terrible things in her mind about her, but the reality of Catalina was quite sobering.
Rebecca was starting to feel stupid.
“Saxony,” she said after a moment. “That is far away, isn’t it?”
Catalina nodded. “Far away, indeed,” she said. “But the land is beautiful, I hear, with big mountains and big rivers. Don’t you want to travel someday?”
Rebecca nodded. “Someday, for certain,” she said. “I want to go to the Levant where my father fought with Richard. Papa said it was a beautiful and mysterious land.”
They were in the stable now, and the girls, who had run on ahead, had already found the puppies. They were screaming with delight.
“Here,” Catalina said, tying off the pony in one of the stalls next to a bucket half full of grain. “We’ll leave your pony here whilst we visit with the puppies. What is the pony’s name, anyway?”
Rebecca looked at the little beast. “George,” she said. “There was a lad named George from Gloucester Castle who used to visit. He was a horrible child and tried to cut my hair with a dagger once. I named the pony after him so I could ride him and kick him and make him do what I wanted.”
She was serious, and Catalina fought off a grin. “Ah,” she said. “A most appropriate name, then. The pony is very obedient, thanks to you.”
Rebecca had forgotten all about George de Clare, and seeing the pony again reminded her of that awful little boy. But it was also a good memory, too.
“George was so terrible that my brother, Westley, helped me get revenge on him,” she said as Catalina led her over to the mass of wriggling dogs.
“When we had visiting nobles, my mother would make a small feast for the children to mirror the big feast for the adults. Wesley put a handful of pepper in the gravy. We pretended like we wanted the gravy and George, being selfish, stole the whole bowl and drank about half of it before he realized it was full of pepper. He was never cruel after that, knowing we would punish him.”
Catalina grinned. “How wonderful it must have been growing up with siblings.”
“You do not have any?”
“Nay,” Catalina said, shaking her head. “It was just me. That is a lonely way to be.”
They were distracted by little girls and lots of puppies. One of them wandered over to Rebecca, who picked it up and cuddled it.
“I do not know if my mother will let me bring him in the keep,” she said, kissing the dog’s head. “Although she has had dogs before. Why not me?”
“True,” Catalina said. “Why not you? I would wager that when you show her the puppy, she will be unable to resist.”