Chapter Thirteen
Eynsford Castle
One Week Later
Sitting by the window in Lady Eynsford’s solar, Vesper could clearly see the bailey of the castle, now covered in about a foot of snow.
It was the first real snow of the season, so the soldiers had taken to building an army of snowmen to fight each other.
It was rather funny to watch and Vesper had been enjoying the antics all morning, even when she almost got hit with a snowball from the snowman siege.
The windows of the solar were only on the second level and a far-reaching throw could easily hit the keep.
Even though the snow had come all night, the day had dawned cloudless and bright.
So it was a beautiful sight to look out over the winter-white landscape even though Vesper had no real desire to go out in the snow.
She was content to sit by the window in the overly-warm solar and sew on the bodice of a new gown for Lady Eynsford.
But the truth was that since her return to Eynsford, she hadn’t had much drive or energy to do much of anything other than sit and sew.
It was as if the memory of Val was too heavy for her to move around, the weight of it crushing her.
He was the last thing she thought of at night and the first thing she thought of in the morning.
And all of the space in between, she was either reliving her short memories with him or dreaming of him.
Everything about Val de Nerra was closing in on her until she could hardly think.
Misery was an apt word.
She began to second guess herself, too. Perhaps, she shouldn’t have suggested the separation.
Perhaps, she should have let him sup with her the night before she departed Bishop’s Waltham for Eynsford.
Perhaps, she should have kept the necklace.
All of these thoughts rolled around in her mind, causing her to doubt her decision, but she hadn’t wanted to make a mistake and she hadn’t wanted Val to make one, either.
That would have been worse had they acted hastily.
Now, they were separated to decide whether or not to pursue this courtship.
Vesper was in favor of pursuing.
Separation from Val had made her forget all of her reasoning for their separation in the first place.
She had been afraid that his association with a murdering family would become common knowledge and ruin him.
But now she was convinced that their feelings for one another could see them through anything.
At least, she hoped so. She’d known the man such a short time that it was difficult to know just how strong their bond was, but as far as Vesper was concerned, it was like granite.
She missed the man with every breath.
“Good day to you, Vesper,” Lady Eynsford suddenly entered the solar with her two old maids trailing after her. “It seems that I have slept very late this morning. The cold always makes me so sleepy that I never want to get out of bed.”
She giggled and Vesper smiled. Lady Eynsford was her age, a giggly and sweet girl lacking any brains.
Her name before she married the elderly Lord Eynsford had been Lady Maude FitzStephen and, much like Vesper, had been a ward of the first Lady Eynsford.
But the first Lady Eynsford, Isabella, had died of a fever two years ago and barely six months after her death, Lord Eynsford married Maude.
She was younger than his daughters with Isabella, creating something of a family flap, but she was a genuinely kind girl so the resistance of Lord Eynsford’s children to her was waning. Not much, but a little.
Family animosity had been a difficult thing for Maude to live with.
Rumor had it that Lord Eynsford was trying to impregnate his young wife and have more sons.
But in the eighteen months since their marriage, Maude had yet to conceive.
However, the woman spoke of her bedroom activities with the lord, running off at the mouth constantly, and Vesper had probably learned more about marriage and sex in that time than most people learned in an entire lifetime.
Maude wasn’t shy about confiding in Vesper and the two other wards, Lisbet d’Vant and Eloise l’Aigle, of her husband’s inability to perform and how Maude would spend hours tugging at his limp manhood in an attempt to arouse him.
It was enough information to embarrass any maiden, Vesper included.
Nay, she wasn’t eager to hear more of that this morning because she knew just by Maude’s tone that it had been another long night of a husband who had kept her up to feed his desires.
Vesper knew that as long as the old maids were around, two women who had been brought by Lord Eynsford from Maude’s home to tend her every need, that Maude wouldn’t speak of the dirty details of the bedchamber.
But that changed quickly when Maude sent the women out to bring her food.
Once they were gone, Maude sighed with exhaustion.
“Finally, they are gone!” she said with relief. “Where are Lisbet and Eloise?”
Vesper shook her head. “I believe they are in the kitchens dyeing thread. At least, that is what they told me they were going to do after we broke our fast in the hall. Shall I send for them?”
Maude shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “I will tell you, Vesper, but you must not tell them anything!”
Vesper knew that was a farce; Maude would tell them everything, anyway, because she could not keep her mouth shut. But Vesper was genuinely in no mood for sordid talk this morning.
“You know that I do not repeat what you tell me,” she said evenly. “But… why don’t you wait until they return? That way you will only have to tell your story once. Meanwhile, come to the window with me and see what the soldiers have done. They have created two armies of snowmen.”
It was enough of a lure to distract Maude briefly, but only briefly. She went to the window to see the snowman armies but it did not hold her attention for long.
“Last night was terrible, Vesper,” she moaned. “He tried something new and I have never been so ashamed in my life.”
Vesper tried not to roll her eyes. “My lady, I am quite sure that Lord Eynsford would not be happy if he knew you spoke of your private life with him. What if he did the same about you? Told all of the men of his bedchamber conquests?”
Maude looked at Vesper, stricken. “Does he?”
Vesper nearly laughed at the question. It was evidently acceptable for her to speak on her husband’s sexual habits but not the other way around. “I do not know,” she said, shaking her head. “I am simply trying to think of the lord’s feelings. And your feelings as well.”
Maude appeared hurt. “Do you not want to hear? But I have no one to talk to. I must share this with someone. I cannot talk to my lord.”
Vesper sighed heavily and returned her focus to her sewing. “Then speak if you must,” she said reluctantly. “I know that you find yourself in a lonely position these days.”
Maude remained by the window, gazing out over the bailey that was quickly turning into a sea of muddy snow. “I did not want to marry him, you know,” she said quietly. “I was hoping for a young, handsome husband, like Des. I can see him from here – he is by the gatehouse.”
Vesper looked up from her sewing, watching Maude’s expression.
She knew that Maude had always been smitten with one of Eynsford’s knights, Sir Desmond de Marmande.
Desmond had been fond of her, too, until the first Lady Eynsford died and Lord Eynsford swept Maude away from Desmond.
Vesper was fairly certain that Desmond’s heart had been broken, but he’d never been anything other than polite and seemingly happy for the wedding of his lord to the woman he’d been fond of.
But it was something they didn’t speak of much these days because it hurt Maude to think of it since she had been very fond of Desmond, too. Vesper was surprised the woman had brought it up.
“You married well, my lady,” she said, returning her focus to her sewing. “Lord Eynsford is very fond of you and you have wealth and position. It is a fine marriage.”
Maude’s features softened as she beheld her once-favored knight through the window.
“Sometimes, when William touches me, I imagine that it is Des,” she murmured.
Her tone turned sorrowful. “Sometimes, I do not think I can take his touch one more minute, Vesper. He is old and fat, and he smells terribly. He forces me to lie on my back while he covers me with his big, hairy body and rubs himself all over me.”
Vesper was sorry for her friend but hearing the wistfulness in Maude’s tone when she spoke of Desmond made her think of Val. Was that how her life was going to be, also? Spending her time pining away for the man she adored? It was tearing at her heart.
“Maude, don’t…,” she begged softly.
But Maude wasn’t listening. “All he cares about is having another son,” she said, close to tears.
“I spend hours pulling at his slimy, stubby manhood until it is hard enough for him to bed me. And it hurts, Vesper – he rams it into me and grunts like a pig. I do not know how much longer I can stand it.”
Vesper sighed sharply and looked up at her. “No more, Maude,” she said quietly. “Please. Someone will hear you and it will get back to our lord. You are his wife now and you must do as he wishes.”
Maude knew that. Her fair face crumpled. “I am so miserable, Vesper,” she wept softly. “Whatever shall I do?”
Vesper had no answers. She was fairly miserable herself. Before she could come up with a reply that would both ease Maude and, hopefully, convince the woman to shut her mouth, Maude suddenly spoke.
“There is someone entering the gatehouse,” she sniffled, wiping at her eyes. Then, she blinked, peering at the activity at the gatehouse. “Vesper, it looks like your father!”