Chapter Eight
When Kestrel and Millicent came down to the great hall for supper, everyone stared and whispered.
But at least some of the stares weren’t hostile.
In fact, a lady she recognized from her testing group for the blue robes smiled and beckoned for her to come take a seat with at her table.
Millicent gave her an encouraging smile before joining the table for the maids and chaperones.
Kestrel’s new ally reintroduced herself as Lady Sarah Pinewood before launching into the first of what promised to be several questions. “I hear that Lord Aylmer intends to find a husband for you.”
Kestrel nodded and drew from her comportment training. “I am honored to have the mercy and protection of our Lord Paramount and trust him to find me a good match.”
“Very merciful, since he decided you’re not good enough for his son,” another woman said loudly, making a few others titter.
Kestrel flinched, then caught herself as she scrambled for the words she’d composed and recited over the past week.
“While it is true that my father’s crimes make me an unworthy bride for the heir to Wurrakia, a betrothal between Sir Gerard and myself was never announced.
” She took a breath and plunged on with the only falsehood of the narrative.
“Perhaps the match was something my father fabricated.”
Some of the ladies nodded in sympathetic agreement, but the loud one smirked. “Then why has Sir Gerard been behaving like a spurned suitor ever since you and your father were arrested?”
Before Kestrel could formulate a response, Lady Sarah spoke in defense.
“The betrothal not being real does make a lot of sense. Though Raptor’s Roost is a respectable estate and the Goshawk line before Lord Cregan’s folly was unimpeachable, there are families with far larger properties and greater bloodlines that have maiden daughters. ”
Though Lady Sarah was defending her, Kestrel couldn’t help but feel a pang of chagrin at the reminder that the Goshawks were a lower ranking house.
In fact, she herself had wondered about why Lord Aylmer had selected her for his son.
Gerard had claimed that he’d chosen her during their brief courtship and she’d naively believed that she was somehow more beautiful or more virtuous than the daughters of wealthier houses.
But now that she’d seen the monster behind his chivalrous mask, she couldn’t help her earlier skepticism returning.
She wished she could ask Lord Aylmer the real reason behind the betrothal, but there was no way she was going to remind him that he’d made such a grave mistake.
The mean woman had no argument for that, so she speared her meat with her fork and scowled.
Another lady who wore the colors of House Tarlton addressed her with a friendly tone. “I heard that the Queen Mother asked to meet you this afternoon.”
Kestrel nodded. “I am heartbroken that was off riding my horse and missed her. Had I known she were coming, I would have been glad to speak with her.”
“Speaking of your afternoon ride,” the lady beside the mean one spoke up. “ I heard that the Wolf was your escort and that you came back in quite a disheveled state.”
Others nodded and whispered to each other.
Kestrel’s face burned. “I fell off my horse.”
“Ah.” From the mocking smirk on her face, it was clear she didn’t believe her.
More whispers and titters surrounded her.
Once more, Lady Sarah came to her rescue. “I understand you received an invitation to Lady Moira’s tea tomorrow.”
That statement changed the mood of the table.
As High Healer as well as wife of the Lord Paramount of Wurrakia, the reverence for Lady Moira among Wurrak woman was two-fold.
It was easy to see who’d received an invitation to the weekly tea and who hadn’t.
Those who Kestrel would be joining tomorrow spoke animatedly of the gowns they planned on wearing.
The unfortunates turned their attentions to their meals with downcast eyes.
For the rest of the meal, Kestrel made gains in having some of the women warm up to her, with two inviting her to join their embroidery circles and an unspoken agreement that she’d be sitting with this group for every supper.
Before her life had unraveled, Kestrel had ignored the mercenary part of her training on interacting with other ladies, only daydreaming about teas, sewing circles, and just not being lonely.
But now she needed to utilize every bit of her education to make the right connections so she could not only regain respectability, but also to ensure that she’d have the opportunity to meet eligible knights and lords and hopefully find one who’d be a bearable husband.
If the man Aylmer chose was anything like Gerard, she wouldn’t be able to bear it.
After supper, Kestrel and Millicent returned to her rooms.
“Well?” the maid began as she helped Kestrel out of her dinner gown. “Tell me everything.”
Kestrel bit back a snort of laughter. The maid had completely changed her tune since she was first assigned to serve her.
Though Millicent had warmed slightly to Kestrel when she was declared innocent, traces of her cool contempt had remained.
Now, with the whole castle knowing that the Queen Mother had been interested in Kestrel directly, she behaved as if they’d always had always had an amicable relationship.
She’d even fetched the herbs Kestrel needed to heal the scratches on her cheeks from her reckless ride even though technically she wasn’t supposed to be practicing magic.
“Lady Sarah, of House Pinewood, was very kind,” Kestrel said with a genuine smile.
She went on to tell the maid all about the ladies warming to her and being even more welcoming once it was discovered that she’d be attending Lady Moira’s tea tomorrow.
“Of course, not all of the ladies were welcoming. Some naturally continue to hold it against me that I’m the daughter of a traitor.”
Kestrel held back from mentioning that one woman had speculated that something untoward had happened between her and the Wolf. She remembered the stares they’d received when returning to the castle and cursed herself for her impulsive, breakneck ride.
Millicent assured her that she’d win them over, and even if she didn’t, even a few allies would be enough to restore her reputation and find a good match.
A good match… the reminder of her impending betrothal covered Kestrel with a fresh wave of dread. The feeling compounded her exhaustion from the trials of this day.
“I’m going to take a bath and retire early so I look my best for Lady Moira’s tea.”
“A wonderful idea.” Millicent beamed approvingly. “I’ll ring for a pot of the lavender chamomile tea you so like. Then I could put your hair in rollers so you’ll have lovely waves tomorrow.”
Although her bath was indeed relaxing and having Millicent doting on her like Beryl used to was nice, Kestrel found herself unable to fall asleep.
Every time she closed her eyes, she relived her time with the Wolf this afternoon.
Him running her down on his large Carthusian gelding, his scarred face even more fearsome as it contorted in rage while he scolded her for endangering herself.
His cruel mockery of her belief in love and enjoyment of romantic stories and songs.
The times he’d called her pretty.
“No matter, it would still be a waste for a pretty thing like you to end your life in an avoidable horse-riding accident.”
“With your charm and beauty, you should be able to have any man wrapped around your little finger in no time.”
His surprisingly gentleness when pulling leaves from her hair. Once more, her scalp tingled just like it did at the time, only now there was an odd fluttering in her belly. Kestrel frowned at the reaction. Surely she wasn’t still frightened by him.
When at last she fell asleep, Kestrel’s dreams told her otherwise. He chased her with that savage snarl on his scarred face, and then turned into a real wolf and she knew when he caught her, he’d devour her whole.
The next day, Kestrel was relieved that her armed escort to Lady Moira’s tea was Sir Ben Hollis. Unlike the constantly tetchy Wolf, Ben smiled at her and spoke to her as if she were still a respected lady. It was a shame he was already wed.
When she arrived in Lady Moira’s parlor, and greeted her with a deep curtsy, the High Healer rose from her throne-like seat and grasped Kestrel’s hands. “I am pleased you’re here, Miss Goshawk.”
Kestrel curtsied again, not caring if it made her look gauche and overeager.
The day Lady Moira had presented her with the blue robes of a healer mage outshone the day she was told she would be betrothed to Lady Moira’s son and the heir to the throne of Wurrakia.
Especially now that the latter memory was poisoned.
Lady Sarah and Lady Hannah, of House Tarlton, who’d spoken up for her last night, were there, and beckoned Kestrel to sit with them. Sitting by her new friends was her old friend, Lady Alayne, who’d pretended not to see her until after the inquest had ruled Kestrel innocent.
Servants came in carrying trays of tiny cakes and miniature sandwiches along with pots of steaming tea. Kestrel lit up at the sight of lemon cakes, her favorite. However, she restrained herself and took a cucumber sandwich first.
After everyone had nibbled their sandwiches and had their cups of tea sweetened to their liking, Lady Moira spoke. “I’m sure the most pressing gossip you all want to hear about is the brief visit from the Queen Mother.”
The ladies expressed such enthusiastic agreement that the high healer had to motion for silence.
“Unfortunately, Queen Kerainne’s visit was so brief that I didn’t get the chance to speak with her. However, my lord husband told me everything.”