Joust of Hearts Read online

  Melisande was secretly glad that she had not produced an heir for him, although the thought riddled her with guilt more oft than not. She knew that Liam had been a harsh and immovable man despite his age, and would have taught their sons how to fight and kill. Of course, honor would have been imparted, which would have been all well and good, but if it had come with the rest, Melisande would not have wanted any of it.

  “M’lady, what say you to this?” Maggie enquired, holding up the beaded collar.

  Melisande glanced up and immediately back down to her rosebud border. “Aye, Maggie, ’twill serve.”

  “M’lady, we are still going on the journey, are we not?” Tilly asked timidly.

  “I…” She paused, not sure how to respond, as she’d been back and forth with herself with the subject all day. “I’ve not yet come to a final decision.”

  Maggie and Tilly exchanged looks.

  Once again, Melisande overlooked their harmless insolence as she continued upon her mental path. In the year after her husband had passed on, she had vowed never to marry a fighting man like Liam again. She had wealth, and from what Liam had told her, her family was secure. Melisande supposed it was time to start living life. However, her prime stumbling block was that she did not know how to start living life—what to do, where to go from here. It was much simpler, not to mention more practical, to stay home and oversee the running of Dupree Castle.

  The probability was high that at the Willowbrook games some of the Bergavnys’ guests would bring to conversation things she’d hoped to forget—such as the great age difference between her and Liam—and ask her how she was feeling now.

  “I am nearly finished. Naught but the trim left.”

  “I have that much as well, and soon we shall have our answer.”

  Melisande paused in wonder at the extraordinary events of her past. After the funeral, she’d felt that the situation in which she’d found herself was yet another lesson from God, instructing her to depend upon Him. However, her faith was solid, she had spent many hours in prayer asking for direction. Then, right away, the daily routine at Dupree had taken over and her fears had diminished regarding her soul’s destination. As the months went by, she’d felt as though she had been delivered both spiritually and physically from marriage to Liam. She was head of her household and had the respect of everyone around her.

  Regardless of her feelings, in every circumstance, when speaking with the servants or in the privacy of her chambers, Melisande did her very best to respect the memory of the great Sir Liam Dupree.

  Here at home, Melisande had been alone with no one but the servants for company for what seemed like an entire lifetime. She felt comfortable with the way her life had turned out. With her attendance at the Willowbrook games, she would have to face the Bergavnys and, likely, her past.

  With her kerchief now complete, she set it aside and joined Tilly and Maggie in the beading of a surcoat.

  “Remember when Lord and Lady Bergavny came to visit?” Tilly enquired of Maggie.

  “Aye. They broke in every bed in which they slept,” Maggie scoffed.

  “That will be enough,” Melisande warned.

  When Liam was alive, Melisande thought it probable that Lord and Lady Bergavny had tolerated her only out of consideration for their friend. However, on occasion, the couple would ask her to recite poetry or play a musical instrument for them while they visited Dupree.

  Always the brightest part of her married life, Melisande had loved to perform for their guests as well as for Liam. Since she was a child, Melisande had relished the gift of memorization and very much enjoyed sharing her abilities before an audience, large or small. Her musical skills were unmatched, according to Liam. Why, she could pick up practically any instrument and play it proficiently. Then there was her speaking voice. That alone would have been a sufficient enough ability, for she could boom like thunder or tinkle like little bells. It was intense yet elegant, resonant yet feminine, and carried well to everyone in attendance. Liam had made certain to vocalize his opinion on the matter. She recalled how he’d always been sweetest to her after a presentation.

  Tilly made a sudden shift that brought Melisande back to ponder the situation at hand. Not only was the Bergavnys’ summons an initial request to present her talents beyond the walls of Dupree, but it was also the first social invitation she had received since her husband’s death.

  * * * *

  That evening, when the last of the seed pearls were sewn into the fourth surcoat, Melisande made the announcement that they would in fact be attending the games at Willowbrook. She instructed the girls to pack the trunks with her new wardrobe and a few of her instruments, and have everything loaded onto two wagons for the journey.

  After assisting Melisande into her nightshift, Maggie and Tilly walked serenely out of the chamber. Once they had shut her door, she heard them running down the hall, giggling like children. But what did she expect? They were in great need of fresh company and news from beyond Dupree’s walls.

  Melisande lay awake in her bed, hoping she would feel differently about the Bergavnys’ event as time passed. This tossing about served to disturb her peaceful existence and stir up all kinds of memories she wished could have remained buried. Perhaps she would become excited about seeing people other than the inhabitants of Dupree Castle. Melisande sighed, doubting very much that anything would change her heart about the games at Willowbrook.

  * * * *

  Quietly, so as not to awaken the randy woman, for she would surely arouse him yet again for another tumble, Devin drew the hem of his doublet down over his hose-covered thighs and slipped from the room.

  She’d been adventurous, to say the least, but had he stayed until the dawn, it might have been his undoing.

  He’d ridden hard the day before on his way back to Willowbrook and had made it nearly all the way. But he’d found himself drawn in by the come-hither smile of a noble woman who just happened to be stopping at an inn situated near a public drinking well at the last major crossroad before home.

  Then he’d ridden her hard for most of the night.

  In reflection of the situation, he grinned. His tastes had become much more refined of late. The higher up in social status he reached for his pleasures, the more creative he’d had to be to entice the women to join him in bed. Not that it was difficult, but a wealthy woman required more than a rakish smile and show of strength. Well, most of them, anyway. Of course, not the one from last night.

  He hadn’t enquired, but he was certain she was a few years older than he. It was no secret that a mature woman’s body was capable of unparalleled heights in bed, and she was no exception. In addition her generosity, coupled with her eagerness for him, had set him at ease and made coupling with her quite pleasurable. She’d offered to pay not only for the best room the innkeeper had, but for his meals and two casks each of wine and beer, too—far more than even he could consume. And he’d been known to outstrip bigger men than himself in drinking games, even, on occasion, one after another.

  If his confession was sought by a priest, he’d be obliged to admit to the man of God, after the admission of his sins, of course, that with every passing year, a night spent in revelry took longer to recover from the next day.

  Devin shut the door quietly, grinned and shook his head. If he could find an unmarried woman who delighted both his mind and body, he’d surely have a prize.

  He ordered his horse saddled at the inn’s stable then headed north. By nightfall, he’d be home. His squire, Devin was sure, would be keeping watch for his approach, for the start of the Willowbrook games was but a day away.

  Chapter Two

  Melisande, Maggie and Tilly climbed into the wagon her late husband had had completed just days before he’d passed on. This would be its maiden voyage, for Melisande had never fancied the thought of venturing forth beyond Dupree’s walls until the invitation to the Bergavnys’ had been issued.

  The small procession left for Willowbroo
k just as dawn was breaking over the horizon.

  The journey was slow, for the paths were rarely visited. The shrubbery on either side practically choked out the course and the caravan seemed to gouge its way through the old passage. The ruts, stones and deep mud puddles from the last rains were harsh on the horses as well as the large wooden wheels of the three transports. More than once Melisande had hope that something would greatly affect their trip and the party would have to turn back… But to no avail.

  They finally arrived at the Willowbrook gates at dusk that very day. As Melisande’s drivers unloaded her trunks, she was shown along with her maids to their chambers in the old castle.

  The Willowbrook servants brought to her chamber a lavender-scented basin of water for her in which she could refresh herself. After Melisande had partaken of the meal delivered to her room at her behest, Lady Bergavny herself made an appearance. The woman was taller than Melisande, yet still petite enough to be called fragile. ’Twas her age that made her so, for she was mayhaps forty and five. Though her head and shoulders were covered by the cream-colored barbette she wore, it was still transparent enough to reveal the many strands of silver hair mixed in with the black.

  “I am truly pleased you have decided to attend the games, Melisande,” Lady Bergavny said warmly. “How have you been faring, my dear?”

  Melisande smiled as she took the lady’s proffered hands. “We are very well at Dupree. Gramercy, Lady Bergavny.”

  “And your journey?”

  “The route was greatly in need of a drying by the sun. However, we arrived in good time.”

  “Splendid. Fitzherbert and I are most anxious to hear what verses you will be presenting at the opening of the games on the morrow.”

  “I have chosen to recite Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Bravery and adoration for a damsel are intertwined beautifully in the tale.”

  “Oh, Melisande, ’twill be a most perfect selection, for the men as well as the ladies will enjoy the telling.”

  “I do hope for that to be the tribute you receive,” Melisande replied with sincerity.

  “Of that I am certain.”

  “May God grant you mercy, Lady Bergavny,” Melisande said as she disengaged her hands and executed a curtsy.

  “Melisande, there is no need be so formal, and do call me Helena,” she announced with a bright smile.

  That statement alone made Melisande feel slightly better about being out in public for the first time in so many months. She found it quite comforting to have a friend and to feel safe so far away from Dupree. “I shall then, Helena.”

  “Delightful. Anything you are in need of, enquire of my servants.”

  “Thank you again, Lady—Helena.”

  Helena nodded in acknowledgment. “Sleep well. I will have my attendants alert your maids as to when to awaken you.” She reached out once again, giving a reassuring squeeze to Melisande’s hands. Just before stepping out of the room, she said, “I pray that you enjoy your holiday with us. I look forward to the morrow.” And she pulled the heavy oak door closed.

  Maggie helped Melisande into her sleeping gown while Tilly arranged the bed coverings. She then climbed the two wooden steps and lay in the middle of the down-filled mattress. Sleep, she knew, would come soon, so she bade the maids snuff out the candles.

  Finding herself once again anticipatory about Liam’s allies, whom she was to meet over the next two days, Melisande silently meditated as she closed her eyes. In two days hence, I may return home. I count the hours.

  Tired from the tedious journey, and mentally exhausted from worrying overmuch, she slept hard through the night.

  * * * *

  As her maids rushed into the room the next morning, Melisande felt slightly disoriented at first glance of her surroundings.

  “We were unable to awaken thee for the mass, m’lady, and the games will begin shortly. ’Tis past time for you to rise and meet the day,” Tilly said in haste.

  Ah. Now she remembered where she was. Willowbrook. The thought ran through her mind that she should just pull the coverlet back over her head and stay there for the rest of the day. At Dupree, Melisande had arranged for mass to be said each day after ten of the clock, owing to the fact that she usually slept best past the rising of the sun.

  Maggie placed a slaver of bread and cheese onto the bed. “Do eat, m’lady, and we shall dress you directly.”

  After the last crust of bread was down, and Melisande was sure it wouldn’t come back up owing to her misgivings, the maids chose a light green and ivory outfit for their mistress. Melisande, not in a disposition for pastels, disallowed the decision and made them dress her in a dark gray tunic and matching surcoat. Decorative ribbons of the same hue fell like streamers from the soft white leather belt just above her waist.

  Maggie and Tilly worked collectively to tuck Melisande’s hair into a silver-gray chaperon. As they finished, a knock sounded at the door. Melisande stood, smoothing out the ribbons along her waist. She called permission to enter.

  The large oaken door swung open and there stood an elderly male servant dressed in Willowbrook colors. “The lord and lady have requested Lady Dupree to join them on the Bergavny pavilions, directly. It is my duty to escort you.”

  “Very well.” Taking a deep breath, she started for the door with Maggie and Tilly in tow.

  As they made their way along the battlement wall, Melisande gazed out over the expanse of the property. There were hundreds of people assembled to witness the events, not counting the large number of servants running behind and around the tents, decorating them with the family crests and blazons of their lords. Liam had tried to describe to her how many attendees would be present at the games, but it was altogether different seeing it. Melisande was sure this was the greatest number of people she had ever seen at a singular gathering in her entire life. All from the nearby villages must be in attendance this day.

  From afar, she witnessed the beautifully decorated banners and flags caught high in the wind to the east and west of the lists. Willowbrook Castle was to the north of the festivities, a good walking distance from the commotion.

  Melisande and her maids followed as their escort passed lovingly tended gardens and intricately carved stone benches placed to garner the best views. Then they traversed over a small meadow of tall grass with a wide gravel-strewn path curving through it. They finally came to the lists and the Bergavny pavilion where the Lord and Lady of Willowbrook were seated. Draped in Willowbrook colors, the structure was built high above ground on a platform big enough to hold three large chairs and a small handful of servants.

  Before Melisande ascended the final six steps to the main deck, she dismissed Maggie and Tilly. “You may have the rest of the day to yourselves. However, I shall require you in my chambers this e’en.” The two maids curtsied and scampered off.

  When Melisande reached the dais, Helena spoke. “Come, sit here with me.” Helena patted the large, ornately carved wooden chair next to her and turned to her husband. “Fitzherbert, you remember Lady Melisande Dupree?”

  Melisande curtsied to him.

  “Indeed, indeed. How it warms my heart to see you, Lady Dupree.” He smiled.

  “You look well, Lord Bergavny,” Melisande replied with a respectful nod.

  “I thank you, my dear. As do you.”

  After she was seated, Helena whispered, “My lord is very pleased that you have come to Willowbrook.”

  Melisande glanced at her host. Lord Bergavny was of good health, at least better than Sir Liam had been in the few years Melisande had known him. Lord Bergavny had gray hair that reached to his chin, and, at present, came from underneath the folded rim of his black fur hat, blending with his matching beard. He had kind blue eyes that peered out through slits from under bushy white brows. His fine robe was a richly embroidered soft green fabric with a wide brown fur lapel that complemented the lighter brown of his hose. A large gold medallion and thick chain were draped around his shoulders. A great ring of g
old bearing the Bergavny seal perched regally on his right index finger.

  Melisande’s gaze shifted to the center attraction. So this was the lists she had heard so much about from Liam. She was loath to see any bloodshed, or horses’ eyes rolling with fear, or anything that would bring forth the bad dreams of which she was finally rid. She remembered well the tales of her late husband and his victories on the battlefield. I pray Thee, Lord, deliver me swiftly through this day.

  Helena placed her hand over Melisande’s. “You look pale, my dear.” She then added, “I have not seen you unnerved as you are now, just before you recite. All will love the chronicle you will share— you may be assured of that.” She patted Melisande’s hand gently.

  Melisande made an effort to smile at Lady Helena, for it was in fact not her performance she was concerned with. It was being here at the blood-games, which seemed to cause so many people amusement, and having to witness them first-hand.

  Almost everything that surrounded Melisande reminded her of Sir Liam. He thrived on this kind of living, she thought with a shudder, the sandy lists, the large crowds that emitted strange odors when many un-bathed people and animals came together, the anticipation of the games. Luckily for her, Sir Liam had been too old to travel around the country from tourney to tourney by the time they were married. Sometimes, though, she felt as if she had lived this way because of the many, many stories she’d listened to at her husband’s feet. Occasionally she’d wished she had not the lucid imagination that accompanied her memorization skills.

  Trumpets gained the attention of the audience and everyone quickly found their seat. The herald introduced Lady Melisande Dupree as a bard of yesteryear. Melisande stood up. After the crowd’s shouts and huzzahs subsided, she began the verses of Sir Gawain.

  Chapter Three