Chapter Eleven
“I was told that Amata arrived today,” Doncaster said. “Where is she? She usually eats with Dacia, but I at least expect her to greet me when she arrives. I’ve not yet seen her.”
The evening’s meal was well under way, the hall crowded with eating, drinking soldiers and massive fires in both hearths that were spitting smoke and sparks into the room.
At the dais, the duke was seated with Cassius, Rhori, and Bose along with Darian and one of his junior knights, a young man from a fine family named Sir Everard Allington.
The duke was addressing Fulco, his majordomo, who was hovering nervously at the man’s right elbow. A pale man with stringy brown hair, he always seemed to have the look of a frightened rabbit.
He very much wanted to please his lord.
“Lady Amata has retreated to the chamber we usually reserve for her father and refuses to come out, your grace,” he said. “She says that she is ill.”
The duke looked at him curiously. “Ill?” he said. “Is Dacia tending to her?”
“Not that I am aware of, your grace.”
“Why not?”
“Because Lady Dacia is in her chamber and says she will come out when she is ready, your grace,” he said.
“And they are not together?”
“Nay, your grace.”
The duke sighed with exasperation. “What is happening with these women?” he demanded. “Dacia and Amata are usually quite close, especially when Amata visits. What nonsense is going around?”
The majordomo simply shook his head, which didn’t satisfy Doncaster. Frustrated, he turned back to his food and drink.
“Women,” he muttered to Cassius, seated at his right. “Dacia’s grandmother was not like that. She was a calm and sensible woman.”
Cassius had watched the exchange about the women carefully, knowing exactly why Amata was pleading illness. Frankly, he was glad because that meant he wouldn’t have to deal with her on this night. He was much more concerned with Dacia making an appearance.
He found that he was eagerly awaiting it.
“Sometimes they are unpredictable creatures, your grace,” he said. “I have two sisters, a mother, a grandmother, and a host of female relatives. I’ve seen just how unpredictable they can be.”
The duke snorted in agreement but, in truth, he couldn’t give the subject of women much more attention than he already had.
He moved on.
“Have you sent word for reinforcements as we discussed earlier?” he asked Cassius.
“De Shera did,” Cassius said, rolling with the change of focus. “The missives went out earlier today and with the castles being so close, I should expect an answer in a day or two. We’ll assemble enough men to wipe through Hagg easily.”
Doncaster was holding his cup, staring into the ruby-red liquid. “I still wish I could have spoken to Catesby,” he said. “All of this seems so… unnecessary.”
Cassius wasn’t sure what to say to that. The duke wanted a peaceful resolution but Hagg had already dictated the terms and they most certainly weren’t peaceful. He was about to take another drink of his wine when he caught sight of someone entering through the servants’ alcove.
Dacia had finally arrived.
His heart skipped a beat.
She was wearing a gray gown with silver silk panels that reflected light as she walked.
The front of the gown was laced up with silver ribbons and there was elaborate silver thread embroidery around the neckline.
The sleeves were long and belled, with white fur trim, and as she drew closer, Cassius could see just how beautiful she looked.
And no veils.
He was on his feet.
“Lady Dacia,” he said. “Please come and sit. It is good of you to join us.”
Rhori and Bose, in their customary places across the table from Cassius and the duke, glanced up at the lady without much interest until they saw how beautiful she was.
Then, she had their attention. But Cassius had beat them to the punch.
He was already holding out a chair for her, which she took graciously.
“I hope I am not disturbing your conversation,” Dacia said, looking over to her grandfather. “I hope I am welcome, Grandfather. Sir Cassius asked me to join the feast and I could not refuse.”
Doncaster was looking at her strangely. “You are always welcome, child,” he said. “But why are you not covered up?”
He was gesturing at her face, asking a rather blunt question for all to hear. Cassius could see the mottle coming to Dacia’s cheeks and he hastened to answer.
“Because I asked her not to,” he said. “It is rude to hide from guests as she does. Men like to see who we are speaking to.”
Doncaster looked at Cassius with surprise. “You asked her not to wear her veils?” he said, sounding confused. “She knows that if she attends a meal here, with guests, that she is to cover herself.”
“Why?”
The duke pointed at her. “Look at her face,” he said. “Men will see that she bears the marks.”
Poor Dacia looked at her lap. Already, the situation was taking a downturn.
She had come into the hall, radiant and lovely, and now her own grandfather had embarrassed her.
Cassius could feel his temper rise, which wasn’t a good thing.
As he’d mentioned to Bose and Rhori, he had the Scots temper.
Usually, it took a great deal to rile him but, in this instance, the reaction was instant.
“She has freckles on her face that are unique and charming, your grace,” he said, trying to restrain himself from sounding angry.
“You have a beautiful, cultured granddaughter that you keep hidden away as if she were a shameful secret. The marks on her face are of God’s creation, not the devil’s, and no man has a right to cover up God’s careful work.
Whoever told you that Lady Dacia should be covered up was grossly mistaken. ”
The duke looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “You are not offended by her?”
Cassius cocked an eyebrow. “Not in the least,” he said. “She is quite beautiful.”
That brought a squint from the duke, as if greatly puzzled by Cassius’ statement. “But she is marked,” he said. “You like this?”
“I like it very much.”
Baffled, and for lack of an argument, Doncaster simply returned to his wine. He didn’t know what to say to Cassius’ rather strong opinion.
And neither did Darian.
Sitting next to Rhori across the table, Darian had heard the entire exchange. He was shocked to see Dacia show up for the meal and even more shocked to hear Cassius speak strongly in her defense. Then, he watched the way Cassius looked at her. He watched how attentive the man was to her.
The embers of jealousy stirred.
“It is good to see you at the table, Lady Dacia,” he said steadily. “I hope you do not feel coerced by our guest. If you were not comfortable, you did not need to come.”
Dacia looked over at Darian, already knowing why he was saying such things.
There had never been any competition for her hand and now that Cassius had shown up, and had shown interest in her, suddenly there was very viable competition.
In fact, it was competition that could easily oust Darian from the consideration and she could tell that he was well aware of the fact.
Although Dacia liked Darian a great deal, he was like a brother to her and nothing more. He knew it, which made this situation delicate because Dacia genuinely never expected to face anything like this.
Someone else who might be interested in her.
She didn’t want to hurt Darian.
“I do not feel coerced, I assure you,” she said evenly. “It was nice to be invited to sup. I’m usually so busy making sure everyone else has been well fed that, sometimes, I forget to eat myself.”
Remembering how Darian staked his claim when they were at Old Timeo’s cottage, Cassius wasn’t oblivious to the mood radiating from the man.
He was essentially jumping his claim, although not in an official capacity.
He’d not made any formal offers, but his behavior definitely suggested interest. He didn’t want to upset Darian, but he was also quite conscious of what he was feeling when he looked at Dacia.
As if nothing could spoil his evening.
“Would you like to sit with us, Darian?” he asked generously. “We would be happy for your company over here. It is a big table.”
Darian’s gaze moved from Cassius to Dacia and back again. “Mayhap later,” he said. “But thank you. That was kind.”
Over on Cassius’ left, Doncaster suddenly snorted.
“You have competition, Darian,” he said.
“Your lack of action may cost you but, of course, Cassius has not expressed any real interest in her. But he probably will not – with as handsome as he is, I’m sure he has armies of women following him around.
I am sure you will be thankful when he leaves, eh? ”
The old man had obviously had too much to drink and it was showing.
Darian didn’t say a word. He simply returned to his food, while Cassius looked at Dacia to see how she was reacting to all of this.
She was still looking at her lap and Cassius reached over to the pitcher on the table, pouring her some wine himself.
“I do not have armies of women following me around,” he said quietly. “Well, not big armies, anyway. I suppose that all depends on your point of view. Are hundreds of women considered armies?”
He was teasing her and he could see her profile as she smiled. “Probably,” she said. “It would seem that my grandfather speaks the truth. In vino veritas.”
He lifted his cup. “Et vinum non opus ad pulchritudinem tuam.”
Dacia’s head snapped up, looking at him with wide eyes. I do not need wine to see your beauty.
Her mouth popped open.
“Your Latin is flawless,” she said.
He shrugged. “Like you, I have been well-educated,” he said. “Besides, my mother was a postulate before she married my father, so if I do not know Latin, she would probably beat me.”
Dacia’s smile grew. “Where do your parents live?”
“Berwick Castle,” he said. “My father is the Earl of Berwick.”