Chapter Two #3
That was as much of an apology as they were going to get from her.
Her gaze moved to the soldier who had shoved her mother and then to the knight who had defended him.
His helm was turned in her direction so she was positive he was looking at her.
One wrong word from him and she could quite possibly take a stick to him.
The commander of Berwick must have sensed that, so he tried to distract her.
“Felkington?” he repeated. “That is to the south, is it not?”
Not wanting to be rude to the man who had tried to ease the situation, Lista returned her focus to him.
“Aye, my lord,” she said. “To the southwest.”
“And your father? His name?”
“Edmund de la Mere, Lord Felkington. The castle was named for the title,” Lista said. “I also had a brother, Simon, who perished two years ago. I believe you knew him.”
That brought pause from the knight. “I did,” he said, surprised. “Dead, you say? What happened?”
“He was murdered in London.”
The knight’s head bobbed up and down in understanding. “You have my sympathies,” he said. “I did not know your brother well, but I met him on a few occasions.”
“He thought well of you, my lord.”
“Then I am pleased,” the knight said. “And your father is dead also?”
“He is, my lord.”
The knight nodded as if satisfied by the answers but before he could continue, the door to the carriage lurched open and a woman in a tight wimple stepped forth. She was an older woman, though quite lovely, and after her came a younger woman with long, dark hair, stylishly arranged.
“We may as well get out,” the older woman said, pushing between the soldiers until she came to the knights and Lista in a strange sort of standoff. Her gaze fixed on Lista curiously. “Ah. I see why we have stopped. A social visit, is it?”
Lista had no idea who the woman was, though she seemed pleasant enough. Reaching up, the big knight removed his helm, revealing a handsome man with shoulder-length, dark blond hair and striking eyes that were two different colors.
“Nay, this is not a social visit,” he said. “This is Lady Lista de la Mere. We’ve had a bit of a… misunderstanding, but I have made our apologies.”
The woman in the wimple approached Lista, focusing on her intently. She was a beautiful woman for her age, fair-skinned, with brown eyes.
“De la Mere,” she repeated. “Edmund de la Mere?”
Lista nodded. “He was my father, my lady.”
That brought a smile to the woman’s lips. “Your mother is Meadow?”
Lista was surprised. “Aye, my lady,” she said. “Meadow is indeed my mother. Do you know her?”
The woman nodded. “I did, long ago,” she said, looking around. “Is your mother here?”
Lista thought she was. She thought her mother and Flora were right behind her, but a quick perusal of the area failed to turn them up. She was about to shout her mother’s name until she heard some bickering going on in the apothecary shop behind them.
That told her everything she needed to know.
“God’s Bones,” she hissed. “Please excuse me, my lady.”
With that, she dashed inside the entry just as the apothecary was shoving Meadow and Flora out the door.
“And keep them out!” the man shouted at her. “They are trying to lick the corks of my phials. And they are stealing my hemp!”
Lista was mortified. She had hold of her mother and aunt, preparing to pull them out of the apothecary’s shop when Meadow’s face suddenly lit up.
“Kelli!” she gasped. “Kellington Coleby!”
She yanked from Lista’s grasp and ran to the wimpled woman, throwing her arms around her and nearly knocking her over.
Both knights, standing close by, had to reach out to steady the women so they wouldn’t go over into the mud.
Even when she was righted, Meadow continued to hug the well-dressed woman.
“Kelli, I’ve not seen you in years!” Meadow said happily, finally loosening her embrace to get a good look at her. “So many years have gone by, but I still recognized you. I would know your lovely brown eyes anywhere!”
Lady Kellington Coleby de Velt smiled at her old friend. “I am so happy to see you, too,” she said. “It has been too long.”
“Much too long.”
“Whatever are you doing in Berwick?”
Meadow turned to gesture to her daughter and sister. “We have come into town to purchase a few things,” she said. “We were just going to the man who sells the brined fish down by the river. What are you doing in Berwick?”
“The same thing you are.”
“Shall we go together, then?”
Kellington wasn’t too certain about that. She had a lot of people with her and didn’t want to drag them along while she went off with a childhood friend, pleased as she was to see her.
“I am sure you have many other things to attend to, just as we do,” she said. “But introduce me to your daughter. I’ve not met her. I do not think I remember your sister, either.”
Meadow turned to the pair behind her, proudly. “My daughter, Lista,” she said. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
Kellington grinned at the young woman who was now starting to flush. “Quite,” she said. “She looks like your mother a little.”
Meadow nodded in agreement. “She is much prettier than my mother ever was,” she said. “And she’s very smart, as well. She can read and do sums in her head. She can do anything you ask of her, for she is perfect.”
Lista was hoping the ground would swallow her up right about then.
But unfortunately, she was left exposed as her mother praised her.
“My mother has far too much faith in me, my lady,” she said, trying to shut her mother up because the woman was being too chatty due to the fungi she had ingested.
“May I introduce my aunt, Lady Flora d’Orbec. ”
Flora was slightly more inebriated than Meadow, but she concealed it well when she wanted to.
She’d had practice.
“My lady,” she greeted. “I recognize your name. I do not think we met as children, though I suspect it was because I went to foster before my sister did and there was never the opportunity. Where did you know her?”
Kellington smiled politely at the slender woman with the long face and hair piled neatly on top of her head. It made her head, in general, look extremely long.
“St. Helen’s,” she said. “I was born at Pelinom Castle and my father would take me for lessons with the priests at St. Helen’s, where Meadow also received lessons.”
“What sort of lessons?”
“Mostly biblical education, but we learned to read and also to write.”
Flora smiled thinly. “Pity,” she said. “My parents were never so gracious to me. They sent me away as soon as I became of age, though I cannot fathom why. They seemed to like to keep Meadow close to them.”
If Kellington thought it was a strange comment, she didn’t let on. “Where did you foster?” she asked politely.
“Alnwick,” Flora said. “I met my husband there. He was a retainer for the earl and, for a time, for John when he was king, though it is unpopular to say so. I rather enjoyed court.”
Kellington kept her polite smile but it was clear she thought Flora was perhaps a little strange and a little much to take in all at once. She returned her attention to Meadow.
“I do not wish to keep you, but I hope you will accept an invitation to visit Pelinom,” she said. “I would love to hear about your life since I last saw you.”
Meadow was flying increasingly high with the fungi she had ingested, so it was a little difficult for her to maintain a coherent thought. She wasn’t as adept as Flora was in concealing it so she clung to Kellington’s hands, smiling dreamily at the woman.
“It has been tragic and eventful,” she said. “But certainly, I have not done as well as you have. I heard you married a great warlord, long ago.”
Kellington nodded. “I did,” she said. “I married Ajax de Velt and these are two of our sons, Cole and Julian. Have you met them?”
Meadow shook her head, looking to Lista. “My daughter has,” she said. “My dearest, sweetest girl was prepared to go fisty against them because their soldiers offended us.”
She had used the slang for a fistfight. Fisty. That’s what the lower class called such a brawl and Kellington looked at Cole with concern. “What is this?” she demanded. “We have offended my friend?”
Cole cleared his throat softly, throwing a glance in Julian’s direction. “A misunderstanding, as I said,” he replied. “I have made our apologies, I assure you.”
“He has,” Lista said before her mother could start something. “It was only a misunderstanding and Sir Cole has been very polite.”
“And Julian?” Kellington wanted to know, looking to the second helmed knight. “Has he been polite, also? Surely you have met my Julian.”
All eyes turned to the impossibly broad knight whom Lista had briefly sparred with.
After a brief pause, perhaps one of resignation, the knight removed his helm, revealing close-cropped, dark blond hair on the sides of his skull and a square jaw.
When he turned to look at Lista and the others head-on, the longer top of his hair hung down over his right eye, covering part of his face, but it didn’t detract from his stunning good looks.
At least, Lista thought so.
The man was quite comely.
“We have not formally met your son, my lady,” she said, feeling her cheeks growing pink to be in the presence of the handsome man she’d been so willing to fight. “Sir Julian, it is an honor.”
Julian simply looked at her. The one eye that she could see was intense, riveted to her, but she was coming to feel uncomfortable that he’d not replied until Cole shot him a look that seemed to prompt him. He dipped his head politely.
“My lady,” he said.
He had a deep voice that sounded as if it were being dragged over gravel.
There was a hoarseness to it, but it was also bottomless in its tone.
Deep, commanding, and controlled as she’d noticed from the first. She nodded her head in response, feeling rather shaken from that piercing eye and raspy voice. Her attention returned to Kellington.