Chapter Four
Six Weeks later
“Do you see him?”
“Who?
“Him!”
There was a good deal of craning necks and gasping and even some shoving as several young women strained to catch a glimpse of something that had their attention.
Someone who had their attention.
He had since nearly the day he arrived.
It was a bright and sunny day in the middle of August and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky as the wards of Lady Isabel strained for a look at their favorite subject.
It had been an unusually dry and warm summer, and they were dressed in lighter-weight clothing, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t proper or fashionable.
Quite the opposite, because Lady Isabel demanded it.
Life at Axminster, since the Tatworth siege, had quickly settled down to normal, and even now the gatehouse was open and people were moving in and out as they went about their business.
The difference these days was that the gatehouse was heavily manned and anyone coming in and out was thoroughly inspected.
The events from six weeks ago had not been forgotten.
Rickard Tatworth had been sent home shortly after his defeat and his punishment had been that his army was completely disbanded.
Grayson had absorbed some of the Tatworth men and so had Hereford, until Tatworth was only left with thirty men to run his rather large castle.
In addition, Curtis had ordered his men to search every corner and every chamber at Tatworth Castle, removing any weapons or anything that could be used as a weapon.
They even took the knives out of the kitchens so the cook was left with only a couple of very dull knives to use in the course of her duties.
All sharpening stones had also been removed, as had farming implements that had any kind of a blade on them.
Anything that could be used in a fight had been stripped clean and Curtis had taken it all with him back to Lioncross Abbey Castle, seat of the Earl of Hereford and Worcester.
That left Lord Tatworth with nothing to defend himself with but also nothing to attack anyone with.
Grayson had left about thirty of his own soldiers at Tatworth Castle to ensure that weapons were not made on the sly.
The smithies were only allowed to shoe horses or help the wheelwrights in repairing wheels or anything else that required metal, but they were not allowed to fashion anything that could be used as armament.
Stripped and dishonored, Rickard Tatworth was left a very unhappy man.
But it didn’t end there.
He was disgraced among his allies, who were now ostracizing him.
Tatworth had a few allies in the area, including St. Martin, and none of them responded to Rickard’s summons or missives.
When Rickard physically rode to a neighboring garrison to find out why, they would not admit him and told him to return home.
He still couldn’t get a straight answer as to why he was being treated like a leper, but he found out soon enough that it was because St. Martin had been telling everyone that he had been petty and foolish in his attack against Axminster Castle and Lady Isabel.
The tides had turned dramatically.
That had left Tatworth without support, which worked in Axminster’s favor.
It seemed that the man had been completely subdued, punished in a way that Lady Isabel approved of, so life had Axminster continued as it always had.
Tradesmen and farmers still did business there, the training of the royal troops continued, and Lady Isabel continued to educate the young women entrusted to her care.
Everything was back to normal. Now, it was those young women who were desperate for the sight of the man that had them all swooning since the day he arrived.
Douglas de Lohr.
Each young woman was quite convinced that she was the right match for Douglas.
He was kind and chivalrous, and pleasant even when they made fools out of themselves trying to impress him.
When he spoke, he had a deep, beautiful voice with a slight lisp that made the young women sigh with joy.
At this moment, they were supposed to be praying in the tiny chapel of Axminster, but one of them had seen Douglas walk by on his way to the stable and now all of them were trying to peer through the three lancet windows that faced onto the central bailey, hoping for a glimpse of the knight who looked like a Viking god.
The mere mention of his name sent female hearts aflutter.
All but one.
Mira was the only one actually in prayer, as they were all supposed to be.
At least, she was kneeling before the small stone altar and trying to concentrate, but the chatter about Douglas had her distracted.
Unable to continue her rosary, she sighed heavily and stood up, going to the window and pushing between a couple of the young women to see if she could possibly see what had them fluttering like birds.
She couldn’t.
The entire situation was ridiculous.
“Do you want me to seek him out and settle this once and for all?” she asked with some sarcasm. “Do you want to know which lady he favors so you will stop this foolish behavior? We have been going through this for months and it is time to end it. Who is brave enough to know the truth?”
Nine hopeful yet fearful faces were gazing back at her.
Astoria, Davina, Helen, Ines, Louisa, Marceline, Primrose, and Theodora.
All of them from some of the finest families in England, all of them ranging from fourteen years of age to eighteen.
Mira was the oldest of the group at twenty years and three, but she was a special case.
She wasn’t truly part of them, but then again, she was simply because amongst the throng was where Lady Isabel wanted her.
Astoria, Davina, and Helen were the second oldest, all of them having seen eighteen years. They were women grown.
And they were looking for husbands.
Maybe one husband in particular.
“Well?” Mira demanded again. “Do you want me to settle this once and for all?”
“You cannot simply ask him,” Astoria said as if it was a frightful suggestion. From the House of de Luzie, she brought a great fortune with her to a marriage. “What on earth will he think?”
Mira looked at the tall, rather plain young woman.
“What do you think he thinks now?” she said.
“Astoria, he knows that all of you watch every move he makes. The man cannot even eat in peace without someone offering to cut his meat for him—and right now, we are supposed to be in prayer, yet you are paying homage to a man who looks like a god among us. You are praying to Douglas!”
She made a sweeping motion with her hand toward the bailey where he was last seen. The young women began to look uncertain, even ashamed, as Astoria and Davina and Helen looked at each other with worried brows.
“She’s right,” Helen finally said. “We should be praying. If Lady Isabel catches us not following her instructions one more time, she will punish us.”
Astoria was usually the leader of the group.
She was headstrong and bossy and she thrived on telling the others what to do.
In the early days of Douglas’ presence at Axminster, she told the women that he would be her conquest. That hadn’t happened yet, and she was increasingly embarrassed that he’d not fallen at her feet simply because she demanded it.
These days, she tried to pretend that it didn’t matter because there was a secondary target in Davyss de Winter, who was also quite handsome, but he was also young.
She wanted an older man.
But he, so far, didn’t want her.
Astoria spent most of her time these days trying to save her pride.
“She will not punish us if we all swear that we spent this time praying, as she instructed,” she said, looking at the anxious faces around her. “Shall we swear it?”
The girls started to nod, but Mira spoke up. “Swear to a lie in a chapel?” she said, incredulous. “That is sacrilege, Astoria. Shame on you for suggesting such a thing. But… if each one of you prays right now, however quickly, it shall not be a lie, shall it?”
That sent most of the girls stampeding to the altar and dropping to their knees as they began rapid-fire prayers. Hail, Mary, full of grace… Astoria and Helen remained by the windows with Mira just as Douglas began to pass by. Mira caught sight of him first.
“There he is,” she said, gathering her skirts as she turned for the chapel door. “I am going to settle this so there will no longer be any question. I will demand to know who he finds favorable so everyone will stop wondering.”
“You’ll put in a good word for me?” Astoria said before she could stop herself.
When Mira looked at her, surprised she should verbalize such a hope, Astoria tried to pretend she hadn’t meant it.
“What I mean to say is that if you happen to speak of me, you can tell him that I may or may not be interested in his suit. I’ve not yet decided. ”
Mira knew she didn’t mean a word of it but nodded, heading to the chapel entry door and giving it a good yank to open it. The door was warped and tended to stick. Leaving the chapel, she headed out into the bailey in pursuit of Douglas.
He wasn’t too far ahead of her.
Dust blew up in her face as she moved swiftly, getting the hem of her green silk dress dirty.
She didn’t like the heat, or the sun, so she shielded her eyes from the bright light as she kept her focus on the prize ahead.
Douglas was stopped by a de Lohr soldier and engaged in a brief conversation, but he happened to catch a glimpse of Mira coming up behind him.
That always brought a smile to his lips.
She was wearing a gown the color of her eyes today, and it made her look even more ethereal than usual. When their gazes met, his smile broadened and he put his hands on his hips in a somewhat stern gesture.