Chapter 23
Wooden sword in hand, Mantheria crouched behind the stables at Hampford Castle, ready to strike.
Andrew told her that Roman soldiers would often use the tactic of surprise on their enemies.
They would march quietly, and when they were close enough to attack, unleash their battle cry.
She took a deep breath and then jumped out from behind the door, giving a guttural battle cry that she and Andrew had practiced their entire carriage ride to Hampford Castle.
Her loud noise died on her lips when she saw that the man who stood before her was not Andrew, but Sunny.
Blushing, she dropped her sword but managed to cling to her shield.
Mantheria used it to cover her body. She felt a prickling at the back of her neck and gave a strangled-sounding laugh.
Her dress was liberally streaked with dirt and bits of hay.
Her long hair was down and had at least a few twigs in it from an earlier battle that day. A bush had been involved.
Becca’s wedding was tomorrow, and she should have realized that Sunny would arrive before it began.
Holding up both hands, Sunny smiled at her. “I surrender, fiercely shielded maiden.”
“I thought . . . I thought that you were Andrew.”
Sunny stooped down and picked up her wooden sword from the ground of the stable. He swung it a couple of times, as if testing its weight, before he handed it back to her. “You’d better keep hold of this in case you are ambushed.”
“You look well.”
Mantheria couldn’t help but notice that Sunny appeared slimmer around his middle and broader in the shoulders.
It was strange to think that his form had altered so much in only a little over a month.
Forty-three days to be exact since they’d last seen each other.
Not that she was counting. And her own form had also undergone subtle transformations from her daily soldier training.
Her arms and legs were more muscular. There was definition rather than softness.
Although, thanks to eating the occasional dessert, her frame had not grown thinner.
Sunny smiled at her, and Mantheria’s heart beat faster. He stepped closer and pulled out a small branch from her tangled hair with leaves in it. “As do you.”
Her mortification made it almost impossible to speak. Her throat felt thicker than cream churned into butter. “Gu-guests don’t usually come to the stables. I didn’t expect to see anyone, or I would have—you know, dressed appropriately.”
“You look like Camilla, the warrior. She helped Aeneas fight for control of Rome. Virgil himself would be impressed by your appearance.”
Mantheria had never before been compared to an , and it struck her funny bone. She snorted before she laughed, unable to keep her mirth inside.
A deadly error.
Andrew ran toward her, wooden sword at the ready, and knocked her shield out of her hands.
Mantheria was not about to lose this battle so quickly, so she got into her attack stance, with one foot in front of the other and her wooden sword held high against her cheek.
She was ready for Andrew’s next blow and parried it easily.
“Who is Camilla?” Andrew asked.
Sunny smiled at her son. “She was a fierce warrior who helped Aeneas fight the other Roman tribes in Virgil’s Aeneid.”
“What happened to her?”
“During the battle, she became distracted for only a moment, but it was enough for an arrow to pierce her.”
Andrew shook his head and raised his shield higher. “She should have known not to get distracted during a battle.”
“And perhaps practiced her archery more,” Mantheria quipped.
Her son circled Mantheria. “I already told you that Sunny promised to teach me archery, and Uncle Wick says that he’s even better than Aunt Frederica.”
“Beating your Aunt Frederica with the bow and arrow is probably the greatest accomplishment of my life,” Sunny quipped, his lips twitching.
Her little sister had an unnaturally good aim. No one could best her with a pistol, although Frederica didn’t like shooting after witnessing the destruction of the Battle of Waterloo and almost losing her husband, Samuel.
Mantheria swatted her sword against Andrew’s shield. “Don’t believe him, Andrew. Sunny has translated many classical works from both Greek and Roman into English. That is why he knows all the stories so well. His work of Antigone nearly brought me to tears.”
Sunny touched his chest. “You’ve read it?”
Foolishly, she had found copies of all of Sunny’s translations after they’d last parted.
She could almost imagine his voice speaking in her ear as she read them.
Mantheria had hoped that reading them would make her miss Sunny less, but they had only made her long for his company more.
Shaking that uncomfortable thought away, Mantheria made a sudden lunge and knocked Andrew’s sword out of his hands.
“Papa keeps several archery targets in good order on the north side of the castle, just past the rose gardens.”
Andrew picked up his wooden sword. “When do we start?”
“How about after the wedding party tomorrow?”
Her son nodded. “Come on, Mama. Our training isn’t over yet today.”
As Mantheria followed her son out of the stables, she couldn’t decide if she was more relieved or disappointed to be leaving Sunny’s presence. She found herself unable to resist glancing back at him over her shoulder.
* * *
The next day, Hampford Chapel was covered in white flowers of all varieties for Becca’s wedding to the Earl of Norwich.
Mantheria did not think that she’d ever seen the castle chapel look prettier.
Or perhaps it was the beaming bride. Becca positively glowed, and her soon-to-be sister-in-law Kitty said loudly, “She’s prettier than a prostitute. ”
Mantheria agreed with her before shushing the eleven-year-old girl. Andrew snickered. He and Kitty had become fast friends, and Mantheria was delighted that he had found someone his own age. Even if she did wish to be his best friend, always.
The ceremony was lovely, and Lord Norwich was hardly less radiant in his silver coat. Happiness made him handsomer than ever. She prayed that the rakish Norwich would always be happy with her sister and Becca with him.
Mantheria glanced over her shoulder and saw Sunny sitting on another pew.
He gave her a little wave, and she flashed him a brief smile before turning back around to focus on the happy couple.
Despite not looking back, Mantheria could feel him staring at her.
She would be lying to herself if she tried to convince her heart that she hadn’t missed him terribly.
So many times, she’d thought, I’ll have to tell Sunny this or that.
Sometimes it was funny or odd things that Andrew said.
Or the new word that she’d learned from the scullery maid: addle-pate.
Mantheria couldn’t tell Andrew, or he might have been tempted to use it.
Her shoulders fell. Sunny wanted to marry her, and Mantheria would make him a most disappointing wife.
She struggled to keep a smile on her face during the chaplain’s words.
The ceremony ended, and both Andrew and Kitty enthusiastically pelted the newly married couple with rice.
Becca and her new husband ran out of the chapel quickly, and then Andrew grabbed Mantheria’s bag of rice and quickly relieved it of its contents.
After the register had been signed, all the Stringhams were eager to hug both Becca and Norwich in the great hall.
Mantheria was grateful for Becca’s forgiveness and her tight embrace.
She was still struggling to forgive herself, but maybe it would help her be more compassionate in the future and less likely to scold or give unsolicited advice.
She watched as Becca gave Kitty a caricature of their new little family.
Norwich was drawn as a lion, Becca as a tall and clever mouse, and between them was a naughty kitten who looked very much like Kitty.
The little girl started to cry. Mantheria’s own eyes filled with tears, for Kitty wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been in Becca’s drawings before.
Helen and Frederica had always been a part of every sketch.
For the first time, Becca had included Elizabeth as a songbird and Mantheria as a butterfly.
Mantheria wasn’t entirely certain that she’d completely abandoned her safe cocoon to fly, but she was trying.
And maybe that was all a person could do . . . try.
The great hall began to feel rather closed in due to the crowd, and Mantheria went up to her room and escaped the castle through the secret passageway.
She couldn’t help but be grateful that she had learned about the hidden entrance behind the family rooms last year at Helen’s wedding.
Although she still felt a pang of something like regret that her little sisters had known about it and not told her.
All she had tried to do was watch over her sisters like Elizabeth asked her to.
But Sunny was right. Her little sisters were all grown up now, and it was time to stop treating them like they were still children.
The passageway led to an exterior door that was camouflaged from the outside of the castle by a bush.
Thankfully it was not a prickly one. Mantheria carefully closed the door behind her and realized that she had not come outside for some fresh air.
Her feet knew exactly where to go, and they led her around the castle to a special area where Elizabeth and Charles were buried.
Her two late siblings. There were fresh flowers on both of their graves.
Papa visited his two lost children every single day and talked to them.
Mama did not, but Mantheria did not think that her grief or loss was any less.
Some people held their feelings inside and carried them wherever they went.
Mantheria had carried Elizabeth everywhere with her.