Chapter Nine #2
Little did she know.
“Lista is agreeable to having you court her,” Addington said. “Well? What are you going to do about it?”
Julian nearly choked on his wine. In fact, he did choke and it all went spraying onto the floor of Felkington’s enormous hall.
He was sitting with Ashton and they had been indulging in some very good wine that a servant had brought up from the cellars when Addington had entered the hall, dressed in a lovely gown that flattered her figure.
Ashton certainly thought so. But words of courtship were the first thing out of her mouth when she saw her brother and Julian wiped away the wine he’d just sprayed on his hand.
“My God, Addie,” he said, wiping it from his lips. “You have the diplomacy of a dog fart. What do you mean by that question?”
Addington looked at him with little patience.
“What do you think I mean?” she said. “I have interrogated Lista and although she feels she is not of your social station, I have convinced her otherwise. Julian, she thinks you are marvelous. Remember? That has not changed. Better still, I do believe she is falling for you. Are you going to let this perfect woman get away from you?”
Julian was staring at her as if she’d grown two heads, horrified and intrigued and, most of all, thrilled.
But he couldn’t decide which emotion was stronger.
He knew Addington meant well, but the woman was indeed as subtle as a farting dog sometimes.
She was clubbing him over the head with his romantic future.
He set his wine cup down.
“Addie, I appreciate that you are trying to help me. But in this case, I do not need your help,” he said. “This is between Lista and me.”
“That’s what she said,” Addington said. “I disagree. I know that women have been… unkind to you in the past and I wanted you to know that Lista is not that sort. She is kind and compassionate and understanding. She is far too good for you, but she is agreeable to a courtship if you will only have the courage to ask her.”
“Did she ask you to tell me that?”
Addington frowned. “Of course not,” she said. “I am doing it of my own accord. I am doing it because it is important. Don’t you like her?”
Julian could hear Ashton snickering next to him, laughing at Addington’s pushiness. He was growing annoyed with them both.
“That is none of your business,” he said, eyeing her. “But, if you must know, I like her very much.”
Addington gasped in delight. “I knew it,” she said. “I could tell. Will you ask to court her tonight? You must not wait, Julian. A delay could ruin everything.”
He waved a hand at her, trying to force her to back off a little. “In my own time,” he said. “And I swear if you push me or push her, I will spank you and I do not care if you tell Mother. Some things you must let me do on my own and this is one of them.”
“But…!”
He cut her off. “Nay, Addie,” he said firmly. “Let me do this myself. I do not want your help. Please.”
He was serious and Addington knew it. Sighing heavily, she nodded reluctantly, seeing Ashton grinning at her and patting the seat beside him.
Pushing aside her stubborn brother, she went to sit next to Ashton, leaving Julian the least bit dazed at the swift turn of subject.
He was still trying to process everything, but the conversation wasn’t over between them.
Not yet, at any rate.
“Where is Lista?” he said, turning to his sister.
Addington had already taken her seat next to Ashton as he poured her some wine. “She went to see to her mother and aunt,” she said. “She’ll be down directly.”
That meant he had a little time to prepare. Turning away from Addington and Ashton as they engaged in conversation, Julian lost himself to thoughts of a courtship with Lista de la Mere.
Truthfully, he was more than delighted at the prospect.
That beautiful, smart, and sweet woman was interested in him.
In him. Sometimes, Addington was annoying, but there were instances when she used that annoying trait for good.
She did the hard work he should have done but, in this case, she was right – it probably would have taken him days or weeks or even months to work up the courage.
He’d worked up his courage twice before in his life and had been slapped back for his efforts, so that kind of bravery didn’t come easily to him.
Romantic intentions were the only conflicts he ran from.
But Addington had given him hope.
He’d never tell her that, though.
As Julian sat there and pondered his next move, Lista entered the great hall.
The hall actually had two big entrances – one from the south, one from the north, and she entered from the southern side.
The hall was full of de la Mere soldiers who had been drinking to Amaury since they’d entered, about one hundred of them filling up the room and filling up the chamber with their singing and praise for their dead captain.
It was a meal that had turned into a wake.
When they saw Lista, they cheered her loudly, as the daughter of their mistress, and she was polite as she made her way through the men who wanted to tell her how much they loved Amaury and how much they would miss them.
As far as Julian knew, no one knew how the man had died, only that he had.
It was probably best considering the cause of his death was their mistress’ sister.
They probably would not have reacted well to that.
Julian watched Lista as she approached the dais.
She was clad in a dark green, simple garment, avoiding the things that the ladies usually wore these days – kirtles and surcoats and other complicated vestments.
Lista’s garment was one piece, or it seemed to be, for simplicity, but there was nothing simple the way it clung to her figure.
She had a full figure of big breasts, a narrow waist, and flaring hips, something Julian found quite alluring.
Very, very alluring. He was still looking at her hips when she finally reached the table.
“Good eve,” she said. “I hope I did not keep you waiting too long.”
Embarrassed that he’d been caught looking at her body, Julian looked her in the face and smiled. “Of course not,” he said. “I’ve had Ash and Addie to keep me company, but I am thankful for your opportune arrival. Will your mother be joining us?”
The smile on Lista’s lips wavered. “Nay,” she said. “Travel does not agree with her, so she is… resting. I do not expect her to join us, though I have asked her to.”
Julian could never fault the woman for being perfectly truthful, even when the truth was less than pleasant. As the soldiers at one of the tables pulled out a citole and began to sing a song of tribute to Amaury, Lista sat down next to Julian.
“They’ve been mourning your knight since I arrived,” Julian said, pouring her a measure of wine himself. “It seems the man was well-liked.”
Lista looked over the group in the hall, all seasoned soldiers who lived a rather easy life at a peaceful castle.
“He was,” she said. “I am sorry you did not come to know him a little. Amaury had been with Felkington since my father was a young man, so he was a legacy here. The place will not be the same without him.”
Julian watched her face as she spoke, the grief she was trying to conceal. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Had that damnable rail been in place, his death might not have happened. I know Cole feels quite badly about it.”
Lista shook her head. “It is not his fault,” she said. “I told him that. It was not his fault. It was my aunt’s fault for being such a… well, suffice it to say that it was not your brother’s fault at all. I do not hold him responsible.”
Julian knew she meant it, but he still felt guilty. “You are kind,” he said. “But know how sorry we are for it.”
Lista nodded, smiling timidly at him because it was a sensitive subject. “That is because you are men of honor,” she said. “I appreciate that. But let us speak no more of Amaury. I want to talk about you.”
“Me?”
Lista’s smile turned real. “You speak very little about yourself,” she said. “A little bird told me that you like books.”
He fought off a smile as he averted his gaze as if embarrassed. “Was this bird named Addie?”
Lista laughed softly. “Are you angry?” she said. “Please do not be. I find it quite fascinating that a knight should like to read. I’ve heard that many can’t or won’t.”
Julian shrugged. “It takes an intellect,” he said. “Some knights are simply trained to fight and that is what they are focused on. They have scribes to write their missives for them, because they never took the time to learn. Fighting was more important. But do not think poorly of them.”
“I don’t,” she said. “My father loved to read, too. He has an entire wall of shelves that contain books, some from places far to the east. They are quite rare.”
That had Julian’s interest. “Many books were brought back by the crusading armies who had gone to The Levant with King Richard,” he said. “I have a few myself. I would like to see your father’s books, if I am permitted.”
“Of course,” Lista said. “I will be happy to show you.”
“Good.”
The conversation died, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Julian’s eyes glittered at her over the top of his wine cup and Lista smiled coyly, looking away. It was a sweet and flirtatious game. Julian took a drink of his wine and set the cup down.
“That same bird told me something, too,” he said.
Lista looked at him curiously before realizing what he meant. “The same bird that told me about you and your books?”
“Aye.”
“What did the bird say?”
“That you would be agreeable to letting me court you.”
Lista’s face immediately turned several shades of red and she leaned forward, elbows on the table as she covered her face with her hands.
“She didn’t,” she said, muffled.
Julian was enjoying her chagrin. “She did,” he said. “Do not be angry.”
“I am not angry.”
“Then why are you covering your face?”