Chapter Three #2
So, she sat on the stool and poured the hot water over her body, lathering up the soap that smelled of lavender and scrubbing every inch of skin.
She even washed her hair with it. Living at Eynsford Castle for the past eight years, she’d grown up with access to a fair amount of luxuries – baths, soaps, fine wines and sweets, things that most people considered extravagances.
Lady Eynsford had expensive taste and her husband indulged her.
And being that Vesper had been one of the woman’s wards, she, too, was the recipient of some fine things on occasion.
In fact, she’d loved her life at Eynsford Castle.
She didn’t want to leave it. When her father had shown up two weeks ago, purely by surprise, she hadn’t been all that glad to see him.
After her mother had died, Vesper had been sent to Eynsford while her father had gone to France, burying his grief fighting Henry’s wars.
Vesper had been glad of it, though. She was so glad that for six straight months after coming to Eynsford, she wept with joy every night while saying her evening prayers.
Giving thanks she no longer had to face unspeakable shame and pain at her home of Durley.
It was shame that she had forced from her mind, unwilling to remember it or speak of it, well forgotten until her father had shown up again, acting as if he wanted to renew his relationship with her.
Vesper wanted nothing to do with him but Lady Eynsford had pleaded with her to try.
He was her father, after all, and people do change.
They grow older and realize their regrets in life.
Perhaps McCloud had realized his, as well.
Aye, she’d listened to Lady Eynsford because she’d had little choice. But her heart wasn’t in it because every time she saw her father, she saw a man who had refused to protect her from a simpleton brother who liked to crawl into her bed at night.
God, she couldn’t even think about that.
But here she was, heading back to Durley with her father, back to the place where those horrific memories were lodged. But this time, it was different – her simpleton brother had graduated from trying to fondle his sister to murdering innocent people.
When her father had gotten drunk one night and confessed Mat’s wicked activities, Vesper knew she had to do something.
She wasn’t exactly sure what she could do, but something had to be done.
She had to stop her foolish brother from destroying himself and taking the entire family with him, for no man would want to marry a woman whose brother was a known murderer.
Therefore, it wasn’t Mat’s life she was saving but her own.
She could admit that to herself. She was selfish and she knew it, but she had her whole life to live and dreams to fulfill, and she wouldn’t let Mat ruin her prospects. There wasn’t an altruistic bone in her body when it came to her father and brother.
Sweet Jesù, what has my family become?
So, she took comfort in something as simple as a warm bath, trying not to think of what lay ahead for her.
After washing every scrap of skin and hair, she dried off before the warm fire and dressed in a dark green surcoat that she’d made herself with fabric supplied by Lady Eynsford.
Her damp hair went into a braid, trailing down her back.
Sitting by the hearth, she was warm, clean, and content for the first time in days.
Somehow, it made facing her coming tribulations more bearable.
A knock on the door roused her from her thoughts. The chamber was so small that the door was literally right next to her. Rising from her stool, she cautiously opened the panel to find a handsome man standing there. Their eyes met and he smiled timidly.
“My lady,” he greeted. “I have come to escort you to sup. Are you ready?”
Although Vesper really didn’t recognize the man, she recognized the voice as that of her father’s friend, the very man who had invited them to feast. She opened the door wider, rather surprised by the vision in front of her.
The man she’d seen back at Whitehill had been a big man with piercing green eyes and a bright smile of straight white teeth, but she’d been unable to see much more than that because he’d had a helm on that had obscured much of his face.
Truthfully, she hadn’t paid any attention. But the man standing in front of her…
Now, she wished she’d paid more attention.
As she’d noticed at the first meeting, Val de Nerra was a very big man, broad-shouldered, but now that he wasn’t wearing his mail protection, she could see that he had a head of curly, dark hair and a square jaw.
His skin was darker, too, as if he spent a lot of his time out in the sun, which made his bright eyes even brighter.
And that smile… Vesper wasn’t one to find attraction with men. In fact, they rather frightened her. But Val was the most attractive man she’d ever seen and that smile was a large part of it. Something about those big teeth made her heart flutter strangely.
“I am ready, my lord,” she said quickly, realizing that her mind had been wandering at the sight of him. “I am extremely grateful for your hospitality.”
Val’s gaze lingered on her, perhaps as appraisingly as hers had lingered on him. “It is my pleasure for my old friend and his daughter,” he said. “I only returned home a short while ago so I’ve not seen your father yet. Was your trip from Whitehill uneventful?”
Vesper nodded. “Uneventful, my lord,” she replied. “The weather was excellent and we suffered no difficulty.”
Val stepped away from the door, extending his hand to the stairs as if to invite her to follow him. “I am glad to hear that,” he said. “My mother said you were traveling on foot. What happened to your horses?”
Vesper faltered a bit, trying to appear as if she wasn’t. But she couldn’t think up a reasonable answer swiftly enough because she never thought this question would be asked. It was too close to the reason for their journey altogether.
My brother kept the horse….
“My… my father does not have any,” she lied. “I am sure he will tell you more about his situation this evening. Since it has been such a long time since you have seen him, I am sure there will be much to speak of.”
Val could see that he’d unbalanced her with a simple question.
But her answer made him curious. “What situation?” he asked, but then it began to occur to him – his mother had mentioned how slovenly McCloud had appeared.
Poverty, she’d said. Was it possible his old friend had fallen on hard times?
“Forgive me, my lady – I do not mean to pry, but I am genuinely concerned for your father. He was a great friend to me in France. Is… is he in need of money? Of work?”
Vesper was growing increasingly uncomfortable. “Truthfully, I do not know,” she said. “Until last week, I’d seen my father only once in the eight years I was at Eynsford. I do not know what he needs. He will have to tell you.”
Val could see that he’d upset her with his questions, for she seemed nervous now, unable or unwilling to look him in the eye. Perhaps he had been too inquisitive, asking her things he should not have. He paused just as they reached the stairs.
“I am truly sorry,” he said. “I did not mean to offend you. I did not realize… well, I did not realize you’d not seen your father in so long. I thought you knew his needs.”
“Alas, my lord, I do not.”
“Then I will, once again, apologize for asking. But I am sure it has been a blessing for you coming to know him again.”
Vesper had to bite her tongue. If you only knew! “It was surprising to see him again,” she said, forcing a smile. “I hardly recognized him. He has a great bushy beard now that he’d not had before.”
Val laughed softly, taking the stairs first and reaching out to take her elbow to help steady her as she followed him.
“That is nothing new,” he said. “He had that terrible beard in France. It grew wild, like a forest, and he used to say that after each meal, he could run hot water through it and make soup from the crumbs.”
That brought a genuine smile to Vesper. “How disgusting,” she giggled. “Now I will have this terrible image in my mind all night about my father making soup from his beard.”
She continued to giggle and Val found himself completely upswept in her silly little laugh. It was enchanting. More than that, when the woman smiled, she was quite beautiful. The prospect of staring at her across the feasting table all evening did not distress him.
“So I have said the wrong thing again, have I?” he said, taking the steps slowly because she was. “I must apologize yet again. It seems that I have been completely clumsy in my attempts at conversation. Do not tell my mother or she will take a strap to me.”
Vesper was still grinning, looking into his glimmering green eyes now. “You are quite a bit larger than she is,” she reminded him. “Surely you can best her.”
Val’s dark eyebrows flew up. “My mother? God help you, my lady, for you do not know what you are saying. My mother is so fearsome, the devil himself would run from her.”
Vesper remembered the brusque woman who had showed her to her chamber and she could understand why Val would make such a statement. But she would not agree with him. To do so would be impolite.
“Your mother was very kind when we arrived,” she assured him. “I found her very pleasant.”
They had reached the landing with a second flight of steps leading down to the entry level. Val cocked an eyebrow at her.
“Are we speaking of the same woman?”
Vesper fought off a grin. “I believe so. A white wimple and round cheeks?”
“And she carried a pitchfork?”
Vesper burst out into laughter. “She did not.”
He grunted. “Then she must have hidden it away.” His hand was on her elbow as he began to take the second flight of steps down. “Believe me, she has a pitchfork. It is her weapon of choice.”