Chapter Four #2
When the dressing was complete and the girls gathered in the lavish sitting room to await escort, Richard and Anne appeared from their own bedchamber.
The great double-doors from their bedchamber opened outward into the sitting room, and they appeared resplendent in their finery and jewels.
Nothing but the best for the De Nevilles, as Richard wore a very heavily embroidered tunic over the finest woolen hose.
A heavy chinked belt hung about his waist and a beautiful bejeweled dagger hung from that.
He looked every inch the sixteenth Earl of Warwick, the latest in a long line of Warwick nobles.
Anne, beside him, wore the latest fabric from Italy, a divinely soft and luxurious material called velvet.
It was new to England and only the very rich had access to the spectacular bolts form across the channel.
Anne’s surcoat was extremely heavy, in a rich burgundy red, and she was sure to be the envy of every woman at the feast.
There were servants in the sitting room lighting fat white tapers that cast the opulent room in a golden glow.
The sun had nearly set and night cloaked the land, entertaining shadows from the half moon.
As two ladies in waiting helped Anne with her equally heavy cloak, several maids brought forth cloaks for the girls.
Isobel fussed with her hair as the maid tried to strategically position the collar of her cloak, while young Anne simply slung hers over her shoulder.
Avalyn settled her green brocade cloak over her shoulders, tying the strips of fabric at her neck to keep it secure.
All the while, she kept her gaze on her aunt and uncle, wondering when they were going to explode at her for disobeying them.
But they pretended as if nothing in the world was wrong.
Uncle Richard even took Avalyn’s hand upon his arm and escorted her from the apartment.
Inglesbatch and his men were out in the hall, an escort already formed.
Though William politely greeted her, she deliberately ignored him.
The Martin Tower was not far from where they were residing.
The grounds of the Tower could be a confusing maze of halls and rooms, so it was fortunate they did not have to travel far.
As their party approached, Avalyn saw the warm glow from the windows of the downstairs hall, inviting them in.
Already she could hear the laughter and the clink of cups and pitchers as the drink flowed freely.
When they finally crossed a small courtyard and entered the hall from the outside, they were met with the warmth and fragrance of a grand banquet already in progress.
Soft music played. Servants took their cloaks and whisked them away.
Richard dropped Avalyn’s hand and went to his wife, and the two of them lowered their voices and wandered into the crowd beyond.
Anne followed her parents while Isobel hung back with Avalyn, wrapping her hands around her cousin’s arm and leaning in close.
“Look, Avie,” she whispered. “When I marry the Duke, all of this shall be mine. Is that not exciting?”
Avalyn smiled at her very materialistic cousin. “Of course, my angel,” she said. “But… are you truly happy about this? After all, the Duke is… well, he’s old. And I’ve heard he can be unpleasant. Does that not concern you?”
“Of course not. He can be whatever he pleases so long as he gives me money to spend and doesn’t expect too much.”
Avalyn lifted an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
Isobel wrinkled her nose. “You know… wifely things. I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
Apparently, her cousin had a rather twisted view of marriage. “It does not matter how you feel. He is your husband and may do as he pleases.”
Isobel just snorted. “Perhaps I will get pregnant on our wedding night and he will leave me alone thereafter.”
An idiotic plan, Avalyn thought, but she didn’t say anything.
She looked around the room, noting the rich and powerful therein.
Slender tapers burned bright in the faces of the gathered nobles, most of them men, but some of them women.
A few husbands and wives sat about. Her gaze fell on a particularly amorous couple.
“But what of love?” Avalyn asked softly, her eyes lingering on the distant pair. “Do you not hope to love him some day?”
Isobel looked at her as if she was mad. “I will not love him. Perhaps I will take a lover over time, but he shan’t know about it.”
Avalyn looked sharply at her. “A lover?” she shook her head. “Why on earth are you marrying him, Issi?”
Isobel turned her nose up. “There is more value to money and power than love, Avie. You know that better than any of us.”
Avalyn fell silent. Aye, she’d known that up until last night.
She’d never thought of loving a man in her life until she met Brogan.
Not that she loved him; at least, she didn’t think so.
But he made her feel differently than anyone ever had.
He was kind and warm and powerful, and his deep blue eyes made her heart leap crazily.
She was coming to understand that, perhaps, things such as love and romance could be possible.
She honestly never thought she was capable of such thoughts because she’d never had anyone stir them in her.
The family took their seats at one of the three massively long tables that lined the dining hall.
The Duke of Clarence sat several chairs away, surrounded by his favorites, and his small brown eyes focused on De Neville’s girls.
She recognized the man on his right, Thomas Howard, the Earl of Norfolk, but she only vaguely recognized the man on his left.
It took her a moment to realize it was Sir Charles Aubrey, a land-wealthy baron from Merseyside.
She had seen him before at different gatherings, a young man who looked far older than his years due to his poor diet and fat belly.
She had caught him staring at her several times, but she made a point not to react.
She didn’t like the way he stared at her and she did not want to encourage him.
The servants brought wine, filling everyone’s chalices to overflowing.
After a good deal of liquor and conversation, the food was finally brought forth and had all of the earmarks of a lavish party: painted peasant, almond-milk puddings with raisins and raspberries, almond paste subtleties, boiled vegetables, and a variety of white breads. It was a feast of uncommon proportions.
When the breads were brought around, Avalyn thought of Brogan’s mother.
Compared to what she made, these loaves were tasteless and dull.
But she ate what she could, not having much of an appetite.
Isobel, however, was stuffing herself silly and young Anne would eat only the puddings.
Avalyn sat between the two of them, eventually just nursing her wine and wondering how she was going to break free from this pack.
She wondered if Brogan would even be there to meet her after her rude departure that afternoon.
She couldn’t imagine that he would not be, but he may have decided she was too much trouble. De Nevilles usually were.
Even if he was not waiting, she still planned to leave.
She really did want to see an entertainment, though it would be considerably less enjoyable without Brogan to share it with.
More wine was brought out, and even more food, this time in the form of pastries.
Everyone was loud, eating happily and laughing.
Avalyn’s gaze scanned the room, as was habit with her; she liked to see who was around, who was friend and perhaps who was foe.
Uncle Richard had instilled that particular trait in her.
From what she could see around the well-lit, warm room, everyone was a friend. She recognized most.
She began to lose track of time as the evening and the wine flowed freely.
In spite of all of the people, she felt isolated and lonely.
Everyone was having a good time but her, and she realized she would have much rather been sitting in Mama Starke’s shop than in this extravagant hall.
It was an unusual thought, as this was quite normally her element. But not tonight.
Eventually, her uncle stood up and went over to the duke.
He whispered something in the man’s ear, to which Clarence nodded.
The movement caught Avalyn’s eye simply for the fact that she knew they were conspiring.
Something was about to happen; she’d seen those expressions too many times before not to know that.
Richard set down his cup and held up his hands to quiet the room.
“My lords,” he said in his loud, distinctive voice. “My ladies. Our host has asked me to welcome you tonight in honor of a very special occasion.”
Beside Avalyn, Isobel perked up. Young Anne just looked bored. The room quieted to a dull rumble and Richard continued.
“There comes a time in life when all children must leave their homes, whether it be to foster or to join the cloister, to seek fame or fortune, or to marry,” he said.
“Tonight, I am both saddened and gladdened to be losing one of my children, for my eldest daughter, Isobel, is to become the future Duchess of Clarence.”