Chapter Five #2
“I will send my mother word of my whereabouts once we know where we are going,” Sparrow said, happy to be going with her friend and, frankly, more excited for the adventure than Gisella was.
“I think she will be glad I am out of Bella Court. She does not care for the duchess much but she wanted me to be properly educated. Now that I am going with you… this will be a new life for us, Gigi. You must not look upon it as a terrible thing. Did you truly want to spend your entire life here at Bella Court with Gloucester chasing after you and performing every night in front of drunken guests? That is no life for you. There are better things out there than that.”
Gisella looked up from the capcase, reflecting on what Sparrow had said.
It was true that Gloucester tried to be very secretive about chasing her and Gisella had mostly stopped his onslaught with the threat of telling Lady Gloucester of his advances, but it was an exhausting struggle against a man who did not like to be denied.
If her marriage to de Russe had one benefit, it was the fact that Gloucester would more than likely leave her alone now that she was married to his muscle. At least, she hoped so.
“Better things?” she repeated. “Better things like de Russe?”
Sparrow shrugged. “You truly do not know the man,” she said. “Mayhap he is not all bad once you work through the layers of military protocol and knightly pomp.”
Gisella shrugged, looking back to the capcase. “Mayhap,” she said softly. “All I know is that he does not wish to be married as much as I do not wish to be. I am sure he already resents me.”
She paused in her packing when Sparrow turned her back and indicated her need for assistance in fastening the back of the dress. Gisella tightened the laces, securing the garment on Sparrow’s small frame.
“But you are married,” Sparrow said softly. “I know this is distasteful for you, but if you are going to be together for the rest of your lives… mayhap you should at least try to be pleasant, Gigi. If you will, mayhap he will, too. And you are such a sweet girl when you want to be.”
Gisella knew that but her mind was so muddled by the events of the evening that it was difficult to think straight. When she finished securing the back of the traveling dress, she wrapped her arms around Sparrow’s shoulders and laid her head against the woman’s back.
“Mayhap,” she murmured. Then, she closed her eyes tightly as if to ward off the doubts that threatened to consume her. “But I am frightened, Sparrow. I admit that I am very frightened. There are such terrible rumors circulating about him and they do frighten me.”
Sparrow patted the hands that were holding her gently. “Did you ask your brother?” she wanted to know. “Surely he would tell you the truth.”
Gisella let her go and moved away, back to her own capcases. “He told me that the rumors are not true,” she said. “I believe him, I suppose, but the gossip is still disconcerting.”
Sparrow rummaged around in the wardrobe for her cloak. She didn’t say anything for a moment, pondering her friend’s fears. “Is that really all it is, Gigi?” she asked softly. “Could it be something more?”
Gisella was fussing with her traveling cloak, shaking it out. “What do you mean?”
Sparrow paused to look at her. “Could Maxim have anything to do with your reluctance to marry de Russe?”
Gisella came to a halt, her intense gaze on her friend. She was rather surprised that the subject had been brought up. It wasn’t something they spoke of anymore. They hadn’t since the knight had lost his life in France two years earlier. It was a rather tender topic.
“Nay,” she finally said. “It has nothing to do with him. It was an infatuation with Maxim and nothing more. Time has shown me that.”
Sparrow shrugged. “I think it was more than an infatuation,” she said knowingly. “But I do believe it is over with. Still, thoughts of him might still be lingering.”
“Not in my mind.”
“Are you certain?”
“I am.”
“That is good,” Sparrow said, shaking out her own cloak. Silence settled for a moment as she fussed with the cloak. “Now, tell me something about your brother.”
Gisella swung the cloak over her shoulders. “What about him?”
“Is he married?”
Gisella snorted. “Gannon?” she said. “Not bloody likely.”
A smile spread across Sparrow’s pink-tinted lips. “Good.”
Distracted from thoughts of de Russe, Gisella laughed at her friend’s coy expression. “You little fox,” she said. “You want to come with me because of my brother. It has nothing to do with being a companion to me.”
Sparrow pranced around, swinging on her cloak.
“If I marry your brother and he continues to serve de Russe, we shall be together forever,” she said, pointing out the benefit of such a union.
“But we shall be together forever, anyway, as sisters. I shall marry your brother and that will be the end of it.”
Gisella snorted as she donned her own cloak, fussing with the fur-lined collar. “I have not seen my brother in two years,” she said. “He may have other ideas. What if he already has a lady he is fond of? What then?”
Sparrow shrugged. “Then I will make him forget her,” she said confidently. “He will love me and only me.”
“You are hopeless.”
Sparrow giggled in agreement, gathering her capcase, fully prepared to run from Bella Court and never look back.
Perhaps it was only because her best friend was leaving and she did not want to be left behind, or perhaps it was partially the adventure of it all.
And, of course, Gisella’s handsome brother.
Aye, that was more than likely a reason for her eagerness to leave, too.
Whatever the true reason, or combination of reasons, she was ready.
So was Gisella, at least by outward appearances.
Her capcases were neatly packed and waiting, and she was washed and dressed, waiting for Gannon to come for her.
The fear of the unknown was diminished with Sparrow accompanying her, but still, she was fearful of what the night would bring.
Perhaps her biggest fear was that she knew men expected relations with their wives on their wedding night and the thought of giving over her carefully-protected virginity to a stranger was rather heartbreaking.
He was such a big man, too, tall, muscular…
simply big. And the rumors of his relationship with the maid were very troubling no matter how much she said she believed her brother about such things.
So many things rolling through her head as she sat down on her bed, next to Sparrow, and waited for the inevitable knock on the door. So much would change after this night, for better or for worse. By the time the knock came, she had worked herself up into a sizable fret.
Sparrow answered the door and Gannon came in with another knight, one that Gisella had seen earlier accompanying de Russe.
Introduced as Sir Lucas de Lara, the knight took her baggage while Gisella informed Gannon that Sparrow would be coming as well.
Gannon refused and it took another twenty minutes for Gisella to convince her brother that it was right that Sparrow should come.
Only after a few sorrowful tears did he agree.
Out in the torch-lit darkness of Bella Court’s courtyard, Bastian didn’t show any reaction at all when Gannon told him his sister would be bringing a lady with her.
In fact, he hardly spared a look for his new wife as she was loaded up onto her small brown palfrey.
Her great white stallion had been corralled and also formed part of the caravan that departed from Bella Court that night, heading out into the darkness that was lit only from the glow of the big, yellow moon.
As the party of three knights, two ladies, and a Gloucester soldier driving a wagon with the capcases on it took the road, Gisella thought that, perhaps, she had never felt such cold upon the night air.
Everything about her was dark and chilled, and she pulled her cloak tighter as she plodded down the road just in front of the wagon.
It even smelled of cold, that dampness that invaded nostrils like dark, seeking fingers. It was a scent that was hard to shake.
Gisella was tired, too, exhausted from her eventful day and with the steady plodding of the horse it was difficult to remain awake, but stay awake she did.
Her gaze was fixed on the massive knight at the head of the column, her new husband, and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself by falling asleep.
He already didn’t like her, or want her, and she didn’t want to exacerbate his opinion. So much was at stake here.
The stake of her future – and his.
*
West Court Manor
Berkshire
Thirty miles west of London
The fortified manor was visible for miles, even in the darkness. Much like Bella Court, the manor house that had been home to four generations of de Russes was a beacon of light and protection in the wilds of Berkshire.
Situated along the Thames, the house was built from both stone and waddle and daub, with fanciful herringbone patterns in brick on the exterior walls.
It was three stories in height, with a circular tower on the western side that faced the river, and very tall walls covered by a growth of thorny vines encircled the manor on all sides, including along the river.
Nothing was left to chance and protection was at a maximum level.
The vines on the walls produced beautiful pink flowers but the thorns were an inch long.
No one but a desperate fool would tangle with those vines.