Joust of Hearts Page 9
“Now go. Kill and destroy. I will not be at Willowbrook upon your return, that is, if you do return.” Her voice cracked, bespeaking the vehement storm of emotion seething within her. “I never want to set eyes on you again.”
“Melisande, Sir Frederick is my ally. I was but a page at the battle of Bosworth and Sir Frederick saved my life. I must go.”
“Just leave me and let me wallow in my sins.” She choked out her words.
“And what about my sins—I participated with you!”
“Do not speak of that again. You, Sir Devin, have no soul.” Her full-bodied voice roared in his ears and echoed through his body. She glanced down at the rose in her hand and hurled it at the ground before him.
Devin withstood her rage, allowing it to pierce his heart. I deserve this. His scheme had failed, and, in turn, he had failed her.
Parker interrupted the scene impatiently from behind Devin. “Pray forgive me, but we must leave soon, my lord, for nightfall is nearly upon us.”
Devin broke out of the intense gaze held between himself and Melisande and spoke to Parker. “See to it that the lady arrives at Willowbrook safely, for she will not allow me to reason with her at present.”
“Aye, my lord.” Parker nodded.
“Catch me up directly. I shall take the north road.” Devin never looked back at her as he mounted his horse and raced off for Willowbrook.
“M’lady.” Parker motioned toward her mount.
Melisande lifted her chin a notch or two before she spoke to Parker. “They have succeeded in turning you into one of them, have they not? Poor child.” She strode past the boy and, stepping on to a low, sturdy branch, mounted her little mare without assistance.
She cried silently along the way. The only evidence of her torment was the constant stream of tears that trickled down her cheeks.
Chastising herself over and over again, she knew her penance would not only include multiple prayers offered to God, but her heart, it seemed, had been diced into small pieces, and the recovery, she imagined, wouldn’t be forthcoming any time soon.
She allowed Guinevere to set a slow pace back to Willowbrook—taking Parker’s silence as gratitude for the tempo of the ride, for he was still on foot.
* * * *
At Willowbrook, Devin had readily slipped into his armor with the help of a page and had prepared Hector with the saddle and dressings used for battle. After a brief conversation with Lady Helena, and with his sword at his side, he was on his way in just over a quarter of an hour.
He paused at the gates, steering Hector around so that he could gaze upon Willowbrook one last time.
“I will find you again, my Lady Dupree. And when I do, I shall convince you that our fates are intertwined. For better or for worse.”
Hector pawed at the ground, seeming just as anxious to arrive at the approaching battle as Devin.
Forcing himself to focus on what lay ahead, Devin turned Hector back toward the road, giving him as much rein as he required. Propelling them forward, Hector’s strides devoured the path before them.
* * * *
Melisande, for once, was thankful for her nosy maids. She sent them to search out fresh water so she could be alone to think, figuring they would take their time and visit with others along the way. One side of her felt a keen disappointment that Devin was gone. Yet, on the other hand, she was glad. She had naught to say to the errant Black Knight.
At first she tried to keep her mind occupied, but every time she relaxed she thought of Devin. Upon her maids’ return, she had Tilly fetch her psaltery and instructed them not to call her to supper. In an empty solar at the southern-most end of the castle, Melisande made harsh the tunes she so loved to play. The composers of the beautiful songs, were they to hear the damage she was doing, would have splintered her instrument to pieces and bade her to never play again.
After some time, the anger within took its toll and managed to exhaust her. To be void of any emotion, she imagined, would be better than seething. She went back to her chamber and lay down upon her bed still fully clothed, save for her hat and shoes. She buried her face in her pillows and, unable to stem the tide, cried herself to sleep.
* * * *
The morning light brought with it the ever chipper Maggie and Tilly.
Pushing aside the tapestry and opening the shutters, Maggie exclaimed, “What a beautiful day for an outing with Lady Bergavny!”
“London. I am perfectly envious!” Tilly chimed in.
The maids chattered back and forth as they removed the rumpled gown that Melisande had slept in. They apologized profusely for not having been ready for her upon her early retirement. Just as Melisande could take their banter no longer, there was a knock at the door.
“Melisande, might I enter? ’Tis Helena.”
Melisande looked up toward the heavens to implore God to get her out of this morning’s activities, not that she felt she deserved His divine intervention. With a sigh, she called out, “Aye, Helena, you may.”
“Come, let us be off the moment you are dressed. The sooner we get to London the better. I am anticipating a wonderful trip.”
Melisande sighed. “Helena, I am afraid I will not be accompanying you on this outing.”
Maggie and Tilly gasped and stared open-mouthed. Melisande shot her maids a contemptuous look and dismissed them with a wave of her hand.
The moment they were gone Helena sat down on the side of the bed. Melisande joined her there.
“Why, dearest?”
“I am not up to a journey to London or anywhere else this day, except mayhaps back to Dupree.”
Helena took her hand, which Melisande reluctantly allowed. “Does this, perchance, have anything to do with Devin?”
The lady’s directness took Melisande aback. “Nay. Aye. I know not. My companionship would be most ill-tempered this day, ’tis all.”
“Child. Devin will be back in a twinkling and this trip will cause your mind to not dwell on thoughts of him.”
Uncomfortable with the subject at hand, Melisande shifted upon the mattress. “What you need to understand is that it matters naught to me if Sir Devin ever comes back. I shan’t be seeing him again.” At her statement, Melisande observed guilt wash over Helena’s face like a veil.
So, Lady Helena knew Devin was a knight and didn’t tell me. Was it an oversight or did she hide the truth on purpose? She’d have to decide later whether or not to be upset with Helena.
“Melisande, Sir Devin is in love with you.”
The simple statement took a moment to sink in. Impossible. Love has many guises. Helena must be mistaken. “Love? Ha. I think not. Lust, more like.”
“Yesterday when Sir Devin came to me in a rush just after your outing he enquired, ‘Where is Melisande?’ I teased him. ‘Have you had a lovers quarrel so soon?’
“In brief, Devin explained to me what he was about and that he had equipped his stallion for battle. I could see the anguish in his eyes and I am most positive it was because he had to leave you.”
“He did not have to leave!” Melisande raised her voice then, failing to mask her emotions.
“There is no need to upset yourself. Sir Devin is a loyal man—loyal to his friends as well as to his loved ones.”
There was naught she could do when tears spilled down her cheeks. “If Devin and I were to be together, I would have come first, not his bloody battles.”
Helena put her arm around Melisande’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Above all, ’tis I who understand not being first in my husband’s life, ’tis every woman’s fate who falls in love with a knight of the realm. However, maturity brings with it patience, and the ability to see that there are many sides to love. I do not expect you to completely grasp the idea this very moment, but someday you will.”
She pulled away from Helena and mopped at her tears with her sleeves. When Helena spoke again, her tone was much lighter.
“Now, my dear, if you are so determined to put Sir Devin out
of your mind, this outing is just the thing. Fitzherbert left early this morn and is already in London visiting King Henry. They fought at Bosworth together with Sir Liam, if you recall, and Fitzherbert and Sir Liam were among the first to vow their loyalties to Henry when Richard fell.”
“Aye, I remember the telling of that battle, many times over,” Melisande replied, unable to prevent the subtly sarcastic tone in her voice.
“So now we go. Cheer up, young lady, for we have a grand day ahead of us.” Helena nodded with mock seriousness.
By Helena’s making the situation seem not so tedious, a diminutive smile parted Melisande’s lips. Helena had been nothing but kind to her, with the exception of withholding Devin’s title from her. She supposed Helena hadn’t meant to hurt her. Melisande heaved a sigh, deciding that she couldn’t be angry with Helena.
She nodded. “Very well, Helena.”
Helena left the room, calling to Melisande’s maids to finish dressing their mistress.
Maggie and Tilly selected a rich burgundy velvet robe to go over her rose-colored tunic. The matching veils were long and sheer with large, faceted amethyst stones dotting the headband.
The ladies boarded the wagon straightaway and took cheese, bread and fruit to eat along the way.
“I’m delighted you’ve attended me. I’ve not journeyed to London since last spring,” Helena commented lightheartedly in between delicate nibbles of her cheese.
Melisande’s only remarks were on the weather and the fare before them. She did her best to avert her thoughts of Devin’s safety. Why, he does not even deserve a single sentence of the Lord’s Prayer said on his behalf because of how he deceived me. And she dismissed the vision of his twinkling green eyes and devastating smile from her mind.
When the meal was finished, the constant motion and noise from the wheels lulled Melisande to sleep.
What seemed to her like moments later, the driver cleared his throat loudly so as to gain their attention. “M’lady, we shall be arriving at the first stop on your tour shortly.”
“Thank you, Ian,” Helena said as the two ladies did their best to smooth out their surcoats.
A fabric shop, which specialized in imports, was only the first of many shops down the long main thoroughfare. The streets were filthy to say the least and Melisande wondered at the thought of living so close to countless people. True, a good many inhabitants lived in and around Dupree. However, one could still find a place to be alone if one truly desired. Liam had told her of London a few times, but of these things, including the waste that was tossed into the streets and the odors that the debris emitted, she’d had no idea.
Helena purchased what seemed like yards of expensive embroidered fabrics, soft shiny materials and bolts of wool from France in a variety of colors. Farther down the thoroughfare she was measured by a dressmaker and ordered three gowns to be made for her.
“My maid Mabel’s eyes are failing her of late,” she confided in Melisande in hushed tones. “She only does light mending for me now.”
Melisande had to admit, it was very kind of Helena to treat her servant so gently.
To the back of the dressmaker’s storeroom, Melisande saw a deep cream-colored gown with gold wire embroidery throughout the garment that made it glow like the stars on a warm summer’s night. When the pattern that had been sewn onto the fabric caught the light from the flickering candles of the otherwise dark little shop, it caused the dress to wink at her. It had a low neckline that was bordered by the same gold thread and sleeves long and wide with white short fur around the cuffs. Its arched bodice was so heavily decorated with gold beads and pearls that it would have been fit for a queen. The headpiece that hung on a peg protruding from the wall nearby had a thin band of the same white fur of the cuffs and a short length of fine gold chain mail that hung down the back that was long enough to reach the nape of one’s neck.
“Helena, have you ever seen such beautiful craftsmanship?” Melisande asked as she stroked the fabric.
Helena gained the attention of the head seamstress. “What of that gown in the corner?”
“’Tis been here nigh over a fortnight now. The lady who ordered the thing be made decided against it,” the woman said with no small amount of spite. To say that she was unhappy with the person who had not picked up or paid for the expensive garment would have been a grand misstatement.
Helena nodded to the woman and whispered to Melisande, “’Twould be a most comely gown worn by you. But do not let on that you are interested. The shopkeeper might overhear and come up with an outrageous price.”
“On what occasion would I wear it, were I to acquire it?” Melisande asked, turning from the beautiful gown to face Helena.
“My dear, when one shops, one also makes purchases for future events, whether known to one or not,” Helena stated with an air of mystery in her voice.
“Besides, I fear I did not bring a purse of coins or other means to make purchases,” Melisande confessed.
“Permit me to make this purchase for you and mayhaps at a later date—”
“But you and Lord Bergavny have done so much for me these past three days, I could not ask you to—”
“You did not ask, Melisande, I offered and insist that you agree,” Helena whispered, her tone motherly.
Melisande looked back at the artistry of the dress and sighed. “It is lovely, is it not?”
“’Tis settled then.” Helena turned toward the shopkeeper to haggle over a price while Melisande caressed the stiff threads of the design with her fingers.
“Sold.” Helena dismissed the woman, turned back to Melisande and smiled. “I had expected to pay twice what she originally offered,” Helena whispered. “I brought the price down by another third. I should have been a merchant.” She chuckled.
When the woman returned, Helena called Melisande over. “Have Lady Dupree measured and the gold dress altered to her specifications. If the project can be finished quickly, there will be a few extra coins for you.”
“Aye, my lady.” The gray-haired woman bobbed a curtsy to Helena, then shoved aside a curtain. “There’s work to be done here. Quit your gossiping of the King’s Garter and get to thy needles,” she called out to the young girls under her employ.
Melisande was somewhat excited about the new gown, but her actions still lacked fervor owing to the brief visions of Devin that she had to continually dismiss from her mind.
Helena and Melisande left the women to their work. Halfway through the portal of the next shop, Ian hailed them. “Pray forgive me, m’lady,” he said, trying to catch his breath from the run across the thoroughfare. “I just come from speaking with a messenger of the King’s who came upon your conveyance with m’self aboard. It seems that Lord Bergavny has told our good king that you and your talented young guest are about town this day. The King requests yours and the Lady Dupree’s presence for supper tonight at his Royal Majesty’s high table.”
“Thank you, Ian. That is the best news we have heard all day. Is that not right, Melisande?” Lady Helena sounded elated.
“Grand,” Melisande said rather flatly, though she didn’t mean to show her displeasure. Her preference remained to be at Dupree, alone with her thoughts.
“Ian.” Helena tossed her driver a coin. “Go pay a visit to that pub across the way and meet us after you have quenched your thirst.”
The man grinned and tipped his hat, which bore the colors of Willowbrook. “Oh, gramercy, Lady Bergavny. An’ God save yer ladyship,” he said with a tip of his cap and a sincere smile.
In each shop the two ladies visited, Lady Helena had to let everyone know about Melisande’s personal invitation from King Henry. The shopkeepers were so impressed that they practically gave away remnants of sheer chiffon cloths, satin ribbons and shiny trimmings to Melisande and Helena, hoping that they would wear their items before His Majesty.
Later, Ian loaded the last of the ladies’ packages onto the wagon, which he had picked up from along the route.
“Which reminds me, Ian, you will need to make two more trips to the tailor’s shop. One on the morrow for a purchase made for Melisande and one in two days hence for my goods.”
Ian stole a sideways glance at Lady Helena and asked, “Pray tell, m’lady, does Lord Bergavny know of yer purchases?”
“Not as of yet, Ian. I do, though, hope he is sitting when he finds out!”
As she listened to their tinkling laughter, it occurred to her how kind Lord and Lady Bergavny were, even to their serfs. In such grand yet humble company, Melisande at once became eager to arrive at Windsor, and to experience court for the first time.
They drove along the Thames for quite a while. Lady Helena allowed Melisande the window with the view of the river, having seen it many times herself. When they finally reached the gates of Windsor, Melisande wished she could ride up top with Ian.
They alighted from the wagon and Melisande was in awe. Windsor Castle was massive in comparison to Dupree or even Willowbrook. The palace guards stood like statues, not looking one way or the other. Helena and Melisande marveled at the grand structure from the center of the courtyard.
Melisande was to be presented to King Henry just before supper, so she and Helena refreshed themselves in Lord Bergavny’s guest chambers.
As the ladies were conversing about the grounds, the décor of the room and the King himself, Melisande felt the excitement mounting and only thought of Devin once, when she wished that he would be by her side when she met King Henry. She pictured him escorting her down a long stretch of polished marble to where the King sat on a bejeweled chair. In her vision, Melisande looked up at Devin only to find him in his full suit of armor, holding a bloody sword.
Melisande walked over to the gleaming brass washbasin and splashed the clear, cool water onto her face as if to rinse away the daydream. She resigned herself to the fact that Devin was a long way from London, and had not been invited to come. Even if he were to suddenly arrive, she reminded herself, she would have nothing to do with the knight.