Chapter Thirteen
There he was.
Astoria had been waiting for him. Dressed in her finest, as Lady Isabel had asked of all of her ladies, she was standing near the hall entry with Davina and Helen and Primrose.
The four of them were greeting the men as they entered and directing them to tables.
The rest of the ladies were at the dais, making sure cups of wine were full and generally seeing to the management of the hall.
Lady Isabel would not allow them to wander amongst the soldiers’ tables, but they were allowed to be on the outskirts of the room and to dance with the men provided they kept a safe distance from them.
This evening, the rumor that Lord de Honiton’s son was in attendance had been flying from mouth to mouth.
Ines and Marceline, Primrose and Theodora were all atwitter about it.
It seemed that the loss of Douglas de Lohr was quickly forgotten with the idea of fresh meat in their midst, so they were all quite eager for a glimpse of Raymond de Honiton.
But Astoria saw him first.
And she would put her plan into action.
Now, it was more than simply getting even with Mira.
It was more than punishing her for taking Douglas away.
After Douglas told Lady Isabel about the broken necklace that afternoon, Astoria was going to get even with Douglas, too.
It was clear that he’d been turned against her before she’d even had the chance to entice him, and that made him her enemy.
The whole situation was veering out of her control and she was struggling to gain the upper hand on everything.
This was her chance.
Now, the very man who was going to unknowingly help her exact her petty revenge was in front of her.
Without a word, she broke away from the group of young ladies and made her way to Raymond as he entered the hall.
He stepped in, taking in the miasma of smoke and warmth and hum of conversation, and she blocked his path before dropping into a deep curtsy.
“My lord,” she said. “I hope that you would remember me. I was here when you were a page at Axminster. My name is Astoria de Luzie.”
Raymond was annoyed that the girl had nearly tripped him in her haste to introduce herself, and he looked at her impatiently.
“Nay, I do not remember you,” he said. “Where is my father?”
That was a stab to Astoria’s ego, but she pushed it aside. Instead, she pointed to the dais. “Over there,” she said. “He is with Lady Isabel and Sir Eric and Sir Douglas. He is also with Lady Mira. Surely you remember her.”
Suddenly, Raymond didn’t appear so impatient. “D’Avignon?” he said. “Mira d’Avignon?”
“Aye, my lord.”
“She’s still here?”
“Aye, my lord,” she said. “She is in the market for a husband these days, though she is rather old. And she remembers you, because I heard her say that she hopes for a dance with you tonight.”
In a few short seconds, Raymond went from annoyed to interested.
Years may have passed since he was last at Axminster, years of training and warfare, but other than getting bigger and stronger and more experienced as a warrior, he was still the same Raymond.
The core of the lad that once was had never changed.
Truthfully, he’d never even thought of the fair Mira d’Avignon when he arrived, assuming she’d long since moved on, so this bit of news was most surprising.
And encouraging.
Perhaps it would be a pleasant night after all.
“Is that so?” he said after a moment. “Is she still pretty?”
“Some say so, my lord.”
“Good,” he said, pushing past her. “I’ll see for myself.”
As he headed off toward the dais through the crowded hall, Astoria watched him go, a pleased expression on her face.
“What trouble are you up to?”
The question was whispered in her ear, and Astoria turned to see Helen beside her. As the woman eyed her suspiciously, Astoria’s smile vanished.
“No trouble at all,” she said. “But I remembered, long ago, that Raymond was rather fond of Mira. I thought he might like to see her again.”
Helen scowled. “Fond of her?” she said. “I remember him pinching her and trying to force himself on her. Lady Isabel was going to send him away when his father mercifully sent him to Kenilworth. The man is an animal!”
Astoria shrugged. “That is of no concern to me,” she said. “But it will be a concern to Mira. I wonder what Douglas will think of her when someone like Raymond shows her attention?”
“What do you mean by that?”
Astoria pretended to be uninterested in the entire conversation. “Nothing,” she said. “Or everything. Mayhap he’ll see Mira for the whore she is.”
Helen grunted, shaking her head in disgust. “If you do not stop your harassment of Mira, not only will I tell Lady Isabel, but I will also tell Mira,” she said. “I saw Douglas scold you today. You’ll get far worse than that if you start something.”
Astoria whirled on her, yanking the braid that was draped over her shoulder. “You’ll do no such thing!”
Helen gasped at the pain of the tug, retaliating by stomping so hard on Astoria’s toes that the woman howled in agony. That brought Davina running to separate them.
“Stop!” Davina hissed. “Stop or Lady Isabel will send you both out of here and punish you for embarrassing her in front of her visitors. Behave!”
Astoria was already limping away, removing herself from Helen and Davina, who were not on her side. But it didn’t really matter anymore. She did what she’d set out to do.
The wheels were in motion.
The night was about to get interesting.
*
Clad in a gown of green silk that was nearly the color of her eyes, Mira was combed and braided, her hair wound like a crown upon her head and the cross pendant from the necklace pinned to the bodice.
Even if she couldn’t wear it as a necklace at the moment, she still wanted to honor Douglas by wearing it, so she and Helen had pinned it carefully at the base of her neckline.
It was in the same location it would have been had she worn the necklace.
With some of Davina’s rose perfume behind her ears and gently daubed on her hair, she presented a magnificent picture.
Funny how she’d never put a huge amount of stock in her appearance.
Of course, she was always neatly dressed and clean, but doing anything elaborate was something she had never been particularly adept at.
But tonight, it was different. In a few short days she had gone from an unattached woman to a lady with a suitor.
That was new territory for her, but one that left her giddy with delight.
In fact, Mira wasn’t sure she could eat a bite tonight because her stomach was in knots, but not bad knots.
On the contrary.
She was very much looking forward to the feast.
The night at Axminster Castle had settled into a cool but brilliant evening.
A smattering of stars brushed across the sky and night birds could be heard in the distance as the soldiers walked the walls with torches in hand, staying vigilant while a great feast went on in the glowing hall.
Lord de Honiton had only brought about twenty men to the feast with him, leaving the rest out in the central bailey cooking their supper over an open fire, but the hall was packed with Axminster, de Lohr, and some de Winter men.
It was a full house.
Somehow, Mira couldn’t remember an evening so beautiful.
Food smelled better and the light and warmth from the hall was somehow brighter than it had ever been.
She’d arrived early to ensure that the visitors were taken care of, but Lady Isabel was already there, so Mira simply made sure the dais was properly set.
She’d never met Lord de Honiton, and as she stood at the edge of the table making sure everything was in order, she couldn’t help but watch the man as he spoke to Isabel.
He seemed happy, and congenial, and nothing like the son Mira remembered.
Somehow, as the years passed, she had built Raymond up in her mind to be something akin to a monster.
She honestly didn’t remember much about him, only the apprehension she’d felt every single day as she went about her duties when he was around.
For quite some time, that had been a nightmare.
But it hadn’t always been that way.
When Raymond was young, he hadn’t been so bold.
He was younger than Mira was, a little slip of a boy with a wild crown of dark hair and enormous brown eyes.
He was almost angelic looking when he first came, but that quickly changed when his behavior began to come to light.
He hadn’t been there more than a few months before he decided Mira was meant for him.
That was when the assaults began.
At first, they had been benign. He was a young boy, so he didn’t have the grasp of a more mature man when it came to wooing a woman.
His attempts had amounted to nothing more than leaving her bunches of wilted field flowers or bringing her an egg or something of that nature.
Mira had been polite at first, and that had been her mistake because he’d taken that as a sign of interest when there was none.
His little gifts had gone on for a year or two, and her second mistake had been keeping any of them.
She should have simply given them all back, but she didn’t.
As he began to mature, the situation grew worse.