Knight Takes Queen, page 66
Lucien didn’t give in to her plea. He gently pried her arms from around his neck. “I must leave you for now,” he said. “You will see me later, I promise. Will you please let me go now?”
She did, reluctantly, deliberately giving him the most pathetic expression that she could manage. “But you did not agree to bring the girls to me,” she demanded. “You must bring them. And tell them that they must entertain me. I want to hear stories and I want them to sing for me!”
Lucien stood back, hands on hips, as Susanna’s nurse rushed up to help her charge. The woman fussed over Susanna so frantically that Lucien knew the nurse was part of his daughter’s problem. The woman catered to her and encouraged her tantrums when she should not. But the woman, Lady Leonie, had been with her since she was born and Lucien couldn’t bring himself to discharge her. If he did, not only would his daughter be even more miserable, but so would he because there would be no one to tend her and he would have to go through the effort of finding someone new.
It was a horribly selfish reason, but his reasoning nonetheless. Lady Leonie, at least, kept some measure of peace where his daughter was concerned. The truth was that his daughter scared him and mentally exhausted him, so the less contact he had with her, the better.
“I will not bring them here if you are going to make such demands on them,” he said frankly. “Listen to what you are saying, Susanna – you want them to entertain you and sing for you. Such imperious demands are rude. Do you not understand that?”
Susanna’s lip stuck out in a pout. “But I do not have any friends to entertain me!” she insisted. “What else are they to do when they come to me?”
Lucien shook his head. “They are not obligated to entertain you,” he said. “Be polite and be kind. Be interested in who they are. Ask them about their lives and where they were born. Let them talk to you. That will be entertainment enough.”
He made sense but it was all a foreign concept to Susanna. She had very little social skills because everyone at Spelthorne mostly kept away from her. Therefore, meeting new people, and especially girls her own age, was difficult for her. She genuinely had no idea how to behave. Her brow furrowed, although it was clear that she was mulling over his words.
“But what if they will not tell me where they were born?” she asked. “What if they will not tell me anything at all?”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “And you think a tantrum is going to force them to speak?” he shook his head. “You must learn to control your anger, child. You cannot always have everything that you want. Sometimes, kindness and politeness will get you much further than anger. If you want them to be your friends, then you must show them that you are worthy. No one wants to be the friend of a screaming child. Will you at least try to be kind?”
Susanna’s frown deepened, torn between guilt and confusion and defiance. But she nodded hesitantly. “I will,” she said. “Now, will you bring them to me?”
Lucien didn’t have time for that at the moment. His wants were more pressing. But he couldn’t ignore his daughter completely; he did that enough. He sighed reluctantly.
“If you behave yourself, then I shall allow you to attend sup tonight,” he said. “We have many fine guests and I think you would like to meet all of them, the girls included. So no more screaming, no more fits – behave yourself and be a kind, thoughtful young lady and you shall be rewarded.”
Susanna’s features lit up. “Can I, Papa?” she gasped. “Can I really attend sup in the hall?”
“If you promise to behave.”
She nodded eagerly. The incentive of eating with the adults in the hall was a very big lure. Too often she ate in her room, kept from the knights and adults at Spelthorne. Lucien told her that he did it for her own protection but Susanna was convinced he did it because he didn’t like her. She knew her own father was ashamed of her. That only fed the tantrums she was so capable of.
Susanna was a very sad, confused young lady.
“I promise I shall be polite,” she insisted. “Will you come for me when it is time for sup?”
“I will.”
“I can hardly wait!”
She was rosy with glee. Lucien left the chamber, feeling great relief as he shut the door behind him. He always felt a great deal of relief when he left his daughter’s presence. That relief, however, was also coupled with guilt. As the child’s father, he felt as if he should want to spend time with her, not run from her, but the dynamic between them had always been this way. He had never known anything else. She screamed, he ran. If he really wanted to admit the truth to himself, deep-down, he couldn’t stand to look at Susanna because the child’s birth killed her mother. He’d lost a lovely, gentle woman and gained a screaming, spoiled creature, instead.
It just wasn’t fair.
There was that guilt again, blaming Susanna for her mother’s death and feeling horrible because he had such thoughts. But he shook off the familiar remorse and sadness, instead focusing on the lovely woman on the floor above. He was very eager to see Lady Sophina, eager to see if those two wonderful hours he spent with her were just a fluke. He wanted to talk to her again to see if, indeed, it was still the same lady he remembered.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he ended up at the top of the stairwell and was faced with four doors – two of them were immediately to his right and to his left, chambers that were used to house female guests, which was a rare occurrence, and then two doors directly in front of him. Those closed off chambers were where possessions and trunks were usually stored, or where servants slept. Therefore, he knew Sophina was in one of the doors immediately to his left or his right; not having settled the woman personally, he didn’t know which door she was behind, so he chose the one to his left. Rapping on the heavy oak panel, he called softly.
“My lady?” he said. “It is Lucien. May I speak with you?”
He could hear some shuffling going on inside the room and his heart was beating firmly against his ribs with excitement. The anticipation of seeing her again was causing his palms to sweat and he suddenly ran his hands through his shoulder-length dark hair, smoothing at it, hoping he looked neat and attractive enough. He never gave a second thought to his longer hair or stubbled face, but he was now. He wished he had at least shaved. When the door rattled, he stood straight, bracing himself for the sight of that beautiful face. But when the door finally opened, he felt as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown on him.
A young, unfamiliar woman was facing him.
“Sir Lucien?” she said timidly. “How… how good of you to come and introduce yourself. I thought mayhap we would be formally introduced tonight at the evening meal but I am glad you came when you did. It is an honor and a privilege to meet you, my lord.”
She dipped into a curtsy and Lucien noticed, standing several feel behind her, another woman covered nearly head to toe in fabric. But Lucien’s gaze moved back to the young woman still in a polite curtsy in front of him and it suddenly occurred to him who she was. He should have remembered that, somewhere in this keep, Holderness’ daughter would have also been lodged. He very nearly clapped a hand to his forehead with the force of his mistake. He could hardly believe what he’d done.
Damnation… I chose the wrong door!
“My lady,” he greeted through clenched teeth. He didn’t even know her name, only that her surname was de Saix, like her father’s. He didn’t even know what to call her. “I… I came to apologize that I was not in attendance when you arrived today. I had duties that kept me….”
Suddenly, coming into his line of sight, was a young lady that he did, in fact, recognize. The mere sight of her cut him off quickly. When Emmaline saw him, her face lit up.
“Sir Lucien!” she exclaimed. “I did not think we would see you until tonight. Lady Juno and Lady Aricia have been excellent companions this afternoon. We have been getting along splendidly.”
She pointed to the ladies as she said each name, indicating which lady was which. Lucien blinked, rather startled by Emmaline’s unexpected appearance. “I am pleased to hear that,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound as off-balance as he felt. “Is… is your mother in here with you, too?”
Emmaline shook her head. “She is in the chamber across there,” she said, pointing directly across the landing. “Did you wish to speak with her?”
Lucien looked at the three young ladies in the chamber, wondering why he felt so nervous. Of course it was because of Lady Juno; his betrothed now had a name. Well, his former betrothed had a name. After the incident in the hall with Holderness, there was no longer a betrothal but he wouldn’t tell Lady Juno that. He would leave it to her father.
His gaze moved over the girl quickly; she was small and slender, and not unattractive looking. She had pretty eyes. But she was a shadow compared to Lady Sophina’s beauty – a colorless and faded shadow. He took a step back, away from the door.
“Aye,” he said after a moment. “There are a few things I wish to, uh, discuss with her. Do not be troubled. I will see you all at the feast tonight. I will call on Lady Sophina myself.”
With that, he reached out and grasped the door to close it, but Emmaline was already bounding through the door, rushing to the chamber where her mother was and pounding on the door.
“Mama?” she called. “Mama, Sir Lucien is here! He wishes to speak with you!”
Lucien couldn’t believe the situation he found himself in; standing on the landing, he had his former betrothed to his left and Emmaline to his right, banging on the door of the woman he very much wanted for his own. What was he to say to all of the women standing there if it came out that Lady Juno was his intended? What would Lady Sophina think?
For the first time in his life, Lucien resisted the urge to run from a conflict for not even he could survive the wrath of angry or confused women. He considered his options and how fast he could make it down the stairs before they tried to follow him and beat him to death, but as he mulled over his choices, the door in front of Emmaline suddenly jerked open and like a vision of angels, Lady Sophina was standing there.
He swore that he was blinded by her radiant light.
“Greetings, Sir Lucien,” she said, her eyes riveted to him as she held his old robe close about her body. “I apologize for greeting you in this manner of dress, but our clothes have not been returned to us yet. Have our trunks been retrieved?”
God, how Lucien wished he was that robe right now, embracing her body, clinging to tender areas that deserved touching and stroking and caressing. It was difficult for him to move past that thought.
“Not yet,” he said. “But I expect my men back at any moment. I am sorry I could not provide you with something more appropriate to dress in, but it has been some time since a woman lived here. All of my wife’s clothes have long since been given to the poor.”
Sophina smiled faintly. “You are most generous in all aspects, my lord,” she said. “What you have provided is more than sufficient until our clothing is returned.”
Lucien smiled in return, utterly forgetting that there were three girls standing around, watching his reaction to Sophina. But he was jolted from that blissful connection with Sophina’s lovely face when Emmaline suddenly spoke up.
“Mama,” she said, catching everyone’s attention. Then she twirled around in the deep blue surcoat she had on, very pretty, with a soft white shift underneath. “Look at the dress Juno has loaned me. Is it not beautiful?”
Sophina’s smile turned in her daughter’s direction. “Beautiful, sweetheart,” she said. Then, she looked at Juno, who was still standing back by her chamber door. “You have my thanks, my lady. You are very kind and generous to loan my daughter such a lovely garment. She will take very good care of it, I promise.”
Juno smiled timidly. “I would be happy to loan you a garment, too, my lady,” she said. “I heard what Sir Lucien said about your clothes having not yet been returned. I have more clothes than I can wear in a month. Papa told me to pack for a long stay, so that is what I did.”
Sophina shook her head politely. “You are very kind to offer, but I would not dream of depriving you of your lovely clothing,” she said. “What you have done for my daughter is enough. I am grateful.”
Juno took a timid step away from her chamber, towards Lucien and Sophina and the twirling Emmaline. “It is truly no trouble at all,” she insisted. “I would be honored to help. I have so very much to offer and until your clothing can be retrieved and cleaned, I am more than happy to loan you serviceable items. It may take a day or two for your clothing to be cleaned and dried, will it not, Sir Lucien?”
Lucien was forced to tear his attention away from Sophina when Juno addressed him. He nodded shortly. “It is very possible,” he said. He quickly returned his attention to Sophina as if unable to look at anything else. “If the young lady is offering, it may be wise to agree. I should like you and your daughter down in the hall tonight for the evening meal and you cannot come wearing my old woolen robes.”
So this robe does belong to Lucien, Sophina thought. She also thought of what she’d done in that robe, of her scent now marked on the interior of it. It was enough to make her flush at the mere thought but she fought it, not wanting anyone to see color in her cheeks.
“I can see your point,” she said to Lucien, trying to keep her head down a little because she could feel the heat around her ears. “Lady Juno is very generous to be so kind to strangers. If it not too much trouble, my lady, then I accept your offer.”
Juno beamed. “It is no trouble at all, I assure you,” she said, her manner turning eager. “My cousin has a wonderful eye for dressing and fabrics and colors. She loves to dress women.”
Sophina smiled at the enthusiasm of the girl. “Then I am grateful to your cousin, as well,” she said, glancing at the girl with the scarf all around her face. “I will be sure to tell your father what a remarkable daughter he has when I see him at the evening meal. You have obviously been raised in a kind and generous house.”
Juno smiled demurely; she was quite practiced at being modest. “I have fostered in two very fine homes,” she said. “When I was young, I fostered at Prudhoe Castle in the north but when the Lady d’Umfraville died, the lord sent all of the female wards away. My father was able to place me at Wellesbourne Castle after that and I remained there until about three months ago, when my father recalled me home because he had brokered a marriage contract with the help of the king.”
Lucien felt as if a giant hand was squeezing the breath out of him. He could hardly breathe, struggling to come up with a change of subject because he most certainly did not want to discuss Lady Juno’s marriage contract, but Sophina was politely interested in the conversation and spoke before he could say a word. It was her conversation, after all. She had every right to continue it, even on the dangerous path it was progressing on.
“Ah,” Sophina said knowingly. “My father has made a marriage contract for me as well. In fact, that was where I was going when our party was attacked and Sir Lucien so ably saved us. Are you traveling to your betrothed’s residence as well?”
Juno shook her head. “I have already arrived,” she said. “Sir Lucien is my betrothed. I have not met him until today.”
The smile on Sophina’s face turned into something of a grimace. She had been living in a dream world for the past several hours, a world where Lucien was the object of her desire, and to hear he was betrothed to this… this child… was like an arrow to her heart. She knew she had no right to feel that way; no right at all.
Still, she found that she couldn’t help the disappointment. In those few words, that pale, slender girl had shot her hopes and dreams full of holes, and everything was draining out of her, leaving her feeling hollow. God, she felt so foolish.
So very foolish.
“I see,” she said after a moment, her voice sounding oddly strained. She didn’t dare look at Lucien. “I am sure you will be very happy. I wish you the best in your new life together.”
Juno smiled, but it was forced. It was clear that she wasn’t sure how she felt about her betrothal to a much older man. “Thank you, my lady,” she said. “And I wish you the same with your coming wedding. Does your intended live close by?”
Sophina realized that she felt very much like crying, her disappointment was so great. It was a struggle to stay focused on Juno’s polite question.
“I do not think it is too far,” she said, turning to look at Lucien full-on. There was no use in acting as if he’d done anything wrong, or jilted her, because he certainly had not. Her silly dreams had been her own and now they were dead. “Gillingham is not too far from Spelthorne, is it, my lord?”
Lucien had a rather sickened expression on his face; something around his eyes looked sad and defeated. “Not too far,” he echoed quietly. “About twelve miles from here. It will take an hour on a good horse, at most. You will be quite… close.”
Sophina stared at him. There was something in his tone that might have led her to believe that he wasn’t entirely happy about the marriage arrangement with Juno, either. In fact, neither one of them looked particularly happy about the marriage, but more than that, if she didn’t know better, she might have thought he was feeling the same disappointment in the betrothal that she was.
But no; she shook herself inwardly. Surely he was pleased with the bride, the daughter of an earl. As she’d known from the beginning, Sir Lucien de Russe was far too good for her, as she was a nearly penniless widow with a daughter. Sir Lucien required a fine wife who could provide him with status and wealth.
He deserved better than her.
“Then mayhap we shall be good neighbors to one another,” she said. There was a lump in her throat she couldn’t seem to swallow down so she turned away, back for her borrowed chamber. “If you will excuse me, I would like to rest before the evening meal. I look forward to meeting your father, Lady Juno. Thank you again for your kindness and generosity towards my daughter and me.”
She was slipping away rather swiftly and Juno called after her. “Would you like me to send a dress to you, my lady?” she said. “I will have Aricia select one. She is never wrong about how a garment will fit on someone. I shall have her bring you something.”
