To the Lady Born (21 page)

Weston smiled faintly. “I know,” he said.  “Sutton has him so worked up about it that all he talks about is swords. He calls them ‘surds’.”

That brought a smile to Amalie’s pale lips. “I know,” she whispered, giggling weakly. “And the chargers are not horses; they are ‘he-he’.”

Weston laughed softly, kissing her hand. “He is such a joy,” he said. “Every day is a day of discovery with him. I feel as if I have been reborn through the eyes of my two year old son; everything is so wonderful and new.”

Amalie’s smile lingered. “For Sutton, too,” she murmured. “I swear Sutton spends more time with him than you do, if such a thing is possible. He makes your brother long for a son of his own.”

Weston nodded thoughtfully. “Which is why he is already dressed for the tournament today,” he said. “Remember that the lovely Lady Paget de Clifford will be there. I do not believe that Sutton will take ‘no’ for an answer this time.”

Amalie sighed faintly. “I was hoping to introduce myself and perhaps put in a good word for your brother.”

Weston could see that she was growing distressed again over not attending so he hastened to keep the mood light. 

“Here is what we will do, my angel,” he kissed her forehead and stood up. “I will send some bread up to you; you can eat that, can you not? It will settle your stomach as I go to the armory and finish dressing.  By the time I am dressed and all of our gear is packed into the wagons, you should be feeling better and dressed yourself. I will return for you then.”

She looked at him dubiously. “I will try,” she agreed. “You know I will.”

“I know.” He winked at her and turned for the door. “I will make sure that Esma and Neilie have the children up and dressed.”

Amalie waved him off and closed her eyes, hearing the door shut softly.  Her mind wandered to the children, now up and getting dressed, excited for the day’s events, and her proud and strong husband as he prepared for his first tournament in six years.

Amalie wasn’t particularly thrilled that he hadn’t competed in awhile because she was fearful that perhaps his skills were not up to par, but Weston didn’t seem concerned about it.  He was more excited than any of them, excited to show his power and talent off to his new subjects. He intended to show all of North Yorkshire what the new baron was capable of.

The past two weeks at Netherghyll had been peaceful for the most part as Amalie and the children became familiar with their new surroundings.  Weston and Elizabeth had stayed clear of one another; from the moment all of her possessions were moved into her new quarters in the long, two story building attached to the keep, Elizabeth had been something of a recluse. 

Every night, Weston and Amalie would sup with the children and Sutton, with no sign of Elizabeth. Weston never said a word about it but Amalie suspected Sutton wasn’t particularly pleased with his brother’s disregard for their mother; it was becoming increasingly apparent.

For the first week, Amalie thought it was probably more of a blessing that the woman hadn’t shown her face. It made for peace amongst everyone as Weston settled in as Baron Cononley and as Amalie settled in as Lady of the Keep. But as the second week of their residence progressed, Amalie was coming to feel bad that Weston’s mother had made herself a prisoner in her own home.  So twice she had tried to visit Elizabeth and twice Elizabeth had sent her away, claiming illness. Amalie was fairly certain the woman wasn’t sick. She would have to be clever in her approach since Elizabeth was deliberately being reclusive.  Amalie was foolish, she knew, in grand dreams of Weston eventually forgiving his mother so they could be one big happy family, but they were her dreams nonetheless.

Amalie lay in bed on this bright November morning, thoughts of Elizabeth de Royans on her mind, as Esma entered with a tray of food and drink. Amalie tried not to retch at the sight of it and lay in bed, eating bread, for several minutes while Esma went about cleaning up the chamber. They all knew Amalie was pregnant again and, as with her previous two, she tended to be quite sick at the onset, so Esma was very conscious of that.  She urged Amalie to sit up after a while, hoping that the bread had settled everything down.

Fortunately, it had. Amalie was feeling much better, enough so that she was even able to eat some of the porridge and honey on the tray. There were pieces of apples, cut up, and she ate those as well. 

Feeling well enough to get dressed, she bathed quickly in warmed rosewater that Esma brought her, scrubbed her face, brushed her teeth with a soft reed brush, and donned a lamb’s wool sheath so soft that it was like feathers.  Over that, Esma dressed her in a radiant scarlet surcoat that went brilliantly with her coloring.  Esma also styled her hair in a fashionable braid that draped over one shoulder, into which she wove ribbons of scarlet and gold.  A golden belt embraced her hips and sturdy golden slippers on her feet. All in all, she looked spectacular considering she still wasn’t feeling completely herself.  But Amalie was determined to attend the tournament.

As soon as Amalie opened the door to her chamber, she ran head-long into Neilie escorting Aubria and Colton down the stairs.  The children saw their mother and ran to her, and Amalie ended up carrying Colton down the narrow spiral stairs of the keep. Esma and Neilie fussed at her for doing so, as Weston had done several times also, but she waved them off, kissing her son and hugging him happily. He was with Weston or Sutton so often that she felt she didn’t get to see him nearly enough.

Once they reached the keep entry, Aubria began asking for her father and Colton squirmed to be set down.  Esma and Neilie had their hands full with the family’s items that they would take with them to the tournament field; extra clothing for the children, toys and other possessions like blankets.  

Amalie waved them onward to the party that was collecting in the bailey, grabbing both of her children by the hands and preparing to take them outside herself. But as she took the stairs that led from the entry down into the courtyard with the bailey beyond, the squat, sturdy two-story building off to the left caught her attention. She gazed up at it, knowing that Lady Elizabeth had two rooms whose windows faced out over the bailey. In fact, she swore she could see the woman looking down at them. 

That gave Amalie an idea.  Instead of heading out to the bailey where her husband was undoubtedly tying up the loose ends before they headed off to Keighley, Amalie took the children into the two-story building where Lady Elizabeth was lodged.

It was dark, cool and musty inside as Amalie led the children up the stairs and directed them to Lady Elizabeth’s elaborate door.  On the occasions that Amalie had come to see the woman and was subsequently sent away, she had been alone. Now, she wasn’t alone; she had brought the magic keys that would open the woman’s door.   She planted Aubria and Colton in front of the door and told them to knock.

Aubria did, loudly. Colton saw what his sister was doing and he began to knock loudly, too. Being the more verbal of the two, he began to yell as well. Amalie fought off a smile, watching her children practically beat the door down and having no doubt that it would work the desired effect.  She didn’t have long to wait.

The children hadn’t been pounding a minute when they all heard the bolt thrown.  In short order, the door hesitantly creaked open. But Colton threw his weight behind a shove that pushed it wide open, charging into the room as if he belonged there. Aubria followed.

Amalie came to stand in the doorway, watching her bold young son face his grandmother and demand ‘eets’.  Lady Elizabeth, pale and tightly wimpled, tried very hard to understand him.  

“He is asking for sweets,” Amalie said softly. “He believes it is his right to have sweets from everyone.”

Elizabeth looked at Amalie, grinning, before turning back to Colton. “Is it sweets you want, young man?” As Colton nodded vigorously, she looked rather concerned. “I am afraid I do not have any sweets for you. But… I do believe I have something you might like. Will you come with me?”

She was holding out her hand to him. Colton took it boldly and when he realized she was walking to the adjoining chamber, took the lead and practically yanked the woman into the room.

Amalie could hear them in the chamber, Lady Elizabeth’s soft, gentle voice and a squawk from her son now and again.  She took a step inside the door, looking around at the lavishly appointed chamber; rich wall tapestries and plates decorated the walls and hearth.  Aubria was making herself quite at home, nosing around Lady Elizabeth’s fine table and touching the blown glass pieces.  Amalie saw what she was doing and hissed at her, calling her off. Aubria turned her big brown eyes to her mother, quite innocently, and continued doing just as she pleased.

Amalie lifted an eyebrow at her disobedient daughter and entered the room, taking the little girl’s hand and pulling her away from the table with its fine treasures. As the two of them stood patiently just inside the doorway, Elizabeth and Colton emerged from the adjoining chamber and Amalie could see immediately that her son had a small sword in his hand.  It was about a foot long, very dull steel, with a rather elaborate hilt for such a toy.

Colton swung the sword around happily and Amalie realized that, very shortly, she was going to have a serious fight on her hands when she took it away from him. Before she had the opportunity, Elizabeth spoke.

“I pray you are not offended that I have given Colton this sword,” she looked at Amalie. “It belonged to Weston as a child and I have always kept it safe, hoping that I would be able to give it to Weston’s son someday.”

That brief explanation removed all willpower from Amalie; certainly she could not take it from Colton now.  Although she wasn’t thrilled with him having a small sword, she moved forward to her son and pretended to show interest in it.

“That is a fine weapon, Colt,” she held out her hand. “May I see it?”

Colton let her touch it but he wouldn’t let go of the hilt.  Amalie ran her fingers over the cold steel, seeing that it was indeed very dull and somewhat thick.  He probably couldn’t hurt himself with it if he tried. Feeling slightly better, though still not completely convinced, she turned to Elizabeth.

“It was very kind of you to give it to him,” she said. “If Weston approves, then he may keep it.”

Elizabeth smiled timidly and Amalie shifted the focus from Colton and his new sword to the true purpose of their visit.

“In fact, Weston and Sutton are competing in the tournament at Keighley today,” she went on. “We would like very much for you to join us.”

Elizabeth’s smile faded and she looked surprised. “Join you?” she repeated. “I… I do not know, my lady.  Surely Weston wishes only for his wife and children to attend. I would be of no value to him, I am sure.”

Amalie cut her off. “Ridiculous,” she snapped softly. “Please come with us.  Weston and Sutton usually help me mind the children but they will be occupied. I could use your assistance, especially with Colton. He is a rather lively child.”

Elizabeth looked to Colton, now slashing through the air with his mighty sword.  It was evident that she was torn as she watched the tow-headed little boy pretend to be a knight, much as her young sons had done those years ago.   Her reluctance grew until, unable to hold back any longer, she turned to Amalie.

“I would like nothing better than to come with you to Keighley, my lady,” she said softly. “But let us be plain; Weston has no use for me and I am sure he would not want me at the event.  Although your offer is gracious, I must decline.”

Amalie gazed steadily at the woman, realizing the taboo of discussing the subject had been broken. As Aubria went back over to the table with the blown glass figures and Colton leapt about with his sword, doing battle against unseen enemies, Amalie went to the small, blond woman with the dark blue eyes.

“I understand that you are attempting to abide by Weston’s wishes given his behavior towards you,” she lowered her voice. “He has explained to me, from his perspective, what his relationship is with you.  But as I explained to Weston, what happened was a very long time ago and he only remembers the event from the eyes of a devastated six year old.  I would like to understand what it was that made my husband turn against you, if only so I will not continue to force you two together if it is sincerely not appropriate.  As Weston’s wife, I seem to be caught in the middle and I would like to understand what, exactly, I am in the middle of. Would you be so kind as to explain what happened those years ago so that I may understand?”

Elizabeth looked at her fearfully for a moment. But then, her expression began to flicker with sorrow, with recollection, and finally with resignation.   She watched the children, including Aubria as the little girl picked up one of the precious glass pieces, before finally returning her attention to Amalie.

“I would like to,” she murmured. “But I am afraid that Weston will become angry if I do.”

“He will not become angry because I will not tell him.”

Elizabeth looked rather surprised by that. “Why would you not tell him?”

“Why should I? If you want him to know, you will tell him yourself.”

Elizabeth sighed faintly, hesitation on her delicate features. “It was a long time ago, my lady.”

Amalie could see that the woman was torn. “I realize that,” she said softly. “I also realize that you do not know me. Although I am Weston’s wife, you do not know me at all. Perhaps you do not trust me with such family secrets and to that regard, I understand. I am not so sure I would tell a stranger my deepest secrets, either.  But I love your son with all of my heart and soul; he is the most remarkable, kind, considerate and generous man in the world. I would kill or die for him.  And you are his mother, the woman that has given birth to him, and I am inherently respectful of you for that reason alone.  You seem kind and sweet, and I would like for my children to come to know and love you. But I cannot truly allow that until I know what has happened that would make Weston so angry towards you.  He has told me his version of the story; will you not tell me yours?”