The Bride's Portion

She sounded just like the nuns she’d once lived with, Alexander thought as he rose to escort her. “You must not worry, Lady Lillis, over your care while you remain at Gyer.” He spoke the words without thought, as simple courtesy. “I swear by God’s holy name that you and your companions shall be treated as though you were members of my own family.”

She seemed to find his words quite amusing, for she smiled, then laughed, and looked and sounded so beautiful doing so that it nearly stole Alexander’s breath away.

“My lord,” she said, “I do hope you’ll not take my words amiss, but I promise you that my companions and I would far rather be counted your prisoners than ever be considered members of the family Baldwin.”

Chapter Three

Lillis hadn’t slept well the night before, either. The chamber she and Edyth had been taken to was comfortable enough; indeed, more than comfortable. It was lavish compared to the spare, plain room they’d been used to at the convent. The furniture in the chamber was finely made, ornamented with delicate carvings and embroidered with intricately sewn needlework. Artful tapestries covered the walls, depicting scenes of romance and adventure, and in the center of the room sat a large bed, heavily curtained with rich, burgundy-colored velvet hung by gold rings. The feather down mattress in the bed was unimaginably soft, and both she and Edyth regarded it with some awe before allowing themselves to actually sit on it. Their beds at the convent had been about as comfortable as a cold stone floor.

Lillis had realized immediately that the chamber was meant for the lady of the castle, for there were many feminine touches declaring both its rank and occupancy. Silver brushes and an ivory comb sat on a silver tray in front of a highly polished steel mirror, perfume decanters offered the exotic scents of sandalwood and lilac, and a woman’s jewelry chest made of fine cedarwood sat on a lady’s dressing table next to a silver filigreed makeup box.

Servants came and went, bearing trays of food and drink and buckets filled with hot water with which they filled a large wooden tub set beside the fire. They went about their duties in a meaningful silence and left Lillis and Edyth alone in the chamber without speaking one word to either of them.

The food and wine that had been brought tasted better than anything Lillis had ever eaten, probably, she knew, because she was half starved and also because she was so used to the simple food that the nuns at Tynedale ate. She had no doubt that the food at Gyer was better than the viands that would nourish them at Wellewyn would be, if they ever got to Wellewyn, because her father was very poor and could not afford fine cooks and expensive fare.

“If we must be prisoners, at least we’ll be well-fed prisoners,” she jested with Edyth, who was in a trancelike state after taking a bite of pears cooked with wine and raisins.

After their meal they undressed and bathed in the still-warm bathwater. A bar of scented soap was included with the provided necessaries and the two women exclaimed over it. At the convent they’d been used to washing with rough soap that smelled like the sheeps’ fat it was made from, but this soap was soft and soothing and smelled like lavender. They dug through their belongings and pulled on their nightclothes.

They’d gone to bed, both of them amazed anew at the softness of the mattress, and Lillis could tell by her steady breathing that Edyth had fallen to sleep almost immediately. Lillis herself, however, had spent much of the night awake, trying to sort out their situation, and now she was suffering for it.

She sat back in the comfortable chair she’d been sitting in for some hours and forced her eyes to stay open. The midday sun filtered through the many windows at the end of the great hall where she and Edyth were passing their time, and the light and warmth made Lillis feel sleepy. Just beyond the windows she could see glimpses of a beautiful garden. How she would love to explore that garden, to smell the fragrance of the flowers and feel the breeze on her face. Never before, until she’d been denied them, had she so missed the clean smell of fresh air, or the giving of the earth beneath her feet. There were two guards now, standing nearby, who would protest if she tried to enjoy such simple freedoms, for Alexander of Gyer had made it clear that she was not to be allowed outside the castle walls unless he was present.

“Careful, dear!” came Edyth’s voice, startling Lillis.

She looked and saw that she’d dropped her needlework onto the rushes that covered the floor. The rushes were clean and looked as if they’d recently been placed down, but Lillis scooped her material up just in case. She took too much pride in her needlework to take any chances with it. Folding it on her lap, she glanced across the room. With some amusement she saw the women who were sitting at the other end of the hall quickly lower their interested eyes.

“He said they would be only too happy to receive us here,” she remarked, more to herself than to Edyth.

“What was that, dear?” Edyth looked up from her needlework.

Lillis nodded in the direction of the group of women. “Them. The womenfolk of Castle Gyer. Alexander of Gyer assured me this morn that we would be well received by them, but it seems that the only thing those ladies well receive is the gossip Aunt Leta gives them. I can see from here that she says a few words, then looks our way, says a few words, then looks our way...” Lillis craned her neck to see the women better. There were seven sitting together in a group, bent over needlework and talking when they weren’t staring at Edyth and herself. “I wonder which one is his betrothed?”

“Whose betrothed?” Edyth asked, then added, “Lillis, it is quite rude for you to stare at them so!”

“I know, Edyth, but if they’re going to sit there and look at us as though we were oddities we can certainly return the favor.”

Edyth sighed and looked back to her needlework. “Whose betrothed?” she repeated.

“The Lord of Gyer’s. She was supposed to be one of the women who would be happy to welcome us here. She is also his cousin.”

“My goodness, you certainly did learn a great deal during your meeting with him this morn.”

She certainly had, Lillis thought with heartfelt sincerity.

The moment she’d seen the two men standing in that chamber she thought perhaps she’d walked through the wrong door by mistake. Neither of them looked like the man who had introduced himself to her the night before. One of them, the one nearest her whose face was a vivid red color, was much too tall to be Alexander of Gyer, and the other, who stood behind a table, looking rather expectant, was much too handsome. She had stared at both of them in turn until she’d finally realized that the handsome one was the Lord of Gyer.

The discovery had been a distressing one, for Lillis had little experience with men, even less with one so handsome. He’d stood before her, green eyed and dark haired, tall and muscular and much younger than she had realized. His features were purely aristocratic, with a straight nose, expressive eyebrows and a well-shaped mouth. As well, there had been about him a mild and utterly natural expression of superiority, which marked him as the nobleman he was.

It had taken only a moment before she’d determined that her best defense against such a man would be anger, and so she had steeled herself against him.

The conversation with her captor, once begun, had gone more smoothly than Lillis had expected. Alexander of Gyer was not the tyrant she had thought he must be; instead, she found him polite, well-spoken and intelligent. He had explained her situation with honest regret, and had listened to all that she’d had to say.

She’d suffered some shock when he told her of the things her father had done, but he was right when he said that she was not really surprised. Lillis loved her father deeply, for to her he had always been loving and kind, but she knew he was a vengeful man and could be quite cruel. She’d seen enough during her childhood of how he treated his servants and vassals to know these things about him. But she also knew he would listen to her if she only had a chance to speak with him, for he had never been able to deny her anything she’d asked of him. The fact that Alexander of Gyer didn’t believe this was understandable, of course, but extremely frustrating.

“Are you quite sure that he’ll not change his mind, my lady?” Edyth asked. “Your poor father must be terribly worried by now.”

“Yes, I’m sure he is,” Lillis agreed. “But, no, I do not think Alexander of Gyer will change his mind. I don’t know what he will do or how he will use us, save I am reasonably certain we shall not be killed or beaten. Still, I do feel foolish sitting here and enjoying ourselves in the luxury of Castle Gyer while my father is probably worrying himself into illness. Too many more days and I promise that I will begin to think of ways to escape our benevolent prison.” At these words Edyth looked absolutely panicked, so that Lillis quickly added, “But we’ll not speak of such things yet. We shall wait a day or two and accept whatever hospitality Alexander of Gyer offers us, and pray that he finds a solution by then.”

Edyth seemed comforted, and managed a slight smile. As Lillis returned the smile she chanced to look behind Edyth’s chair and saw a movement in the shadows. She bent forward to look more closely and noticed that the shadows were actually two small figures; children who were hugging themselves tightly against the wall to keep from being seen.

“What now!” Lillis said lightly. “Who have we here? Come and let us see you. Come,” she coaxed. “We’ll not harm you.”

Edyth turned to see who it was that Lillis addressed and, being closer to the children, was able to discern them more clearly. “Why, what precious little ones!” the older woman exclaimed, dropping her needlework. “What do you do there, hiding so? Will you not come and say hello?”

But the children seemed thoroughly frightened, if not of Edyth, certainly of Lillis.

“You’re a witch!” accused a small, trembling voice.

“My goodness!” Lillis declared with surprise. “Whatever makes you say such a thing?”

“You look like a witch” came the reply. This time the voice belonged to a boy.

“Do I? How is it that I look like a witch? I’ve never seen one before, so you must tell me.”

“You are all white. And you are a giant.”

“Oh, I see,” Lillis said, repressing the urge to laugh. “Well, I suppose I am all white, as you say, but I assure you that I was born this way and that being such doesn’t make me a witch. As to being a giant, why, I’m not nearly as tall as the Lord of Gyer, am I?”

“No,” said both voices.

“And is he a giant?”

“No.”

“Then, if I am not as tall as he, and he is not a giant, I am not a giant. Does that not make sense?”

They were quiet, clearly thinking this through. Finally the boy spoke again. “Barbara said you are a witch. She said that you turn children into mice and drown them in wells. She said you can put a house to fire by pointing your finger at it.”

“Barbara said you cast spells on people that makes them howl like dogs,” the little girl added enthusiastically, “and that they grow hair all over their bodies and can never be the same again.”

“Oh, my!” Edyth put one hand over her heart in distress. “What dreadful things to tell children!”

Lillis finally gave way to an amused chuckle. “So the lady Barbara told you I am a witch, did she? Well, she is quite wrong. I can do none of those things and I most assuredly am not a witch. Come now, I promise I shall not harm you.”

The children did come, but warily. The closest child was a beautiful little girl, seven or eight years of age, with golden auburn curls atop her head and large hazel eyes full of curious expression. The other, a boy a couple of years older, was surprisingly lanky and thin. He had brown hair and deep brown eyes, and the most serious expression Lillis had ever seen on a child.

“What lovely children!” Edyth exclaimed, putting out a gentle hand to draw them closer. They willingly moved to the older woman but kept their distance from Lillis, whom they stared at with open distrust.

“What are your names, my dears?” Edyth asked them.

“Candis,” whispered the little girl, never taking her eyes from Lillis.

“I am Justin,” the boy said.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Candis and Justin.” Lillis nodded to them formally. “Do you belong to someone in the castle?”

They looked at her with confusion.

“How is it that you are here in the castle?” she clarified.

“We live here. Alex is our brother,” Justin replied.

“Oh,” Lillis said with disappointment. She had assumed that they belonged to the cook or one of the servants, and had been happy with the prospect of having children close by to spend time with. She sincerely doubted, however, that Alexander of Gyer or his family would appreciate her and Edyth even speaking to Candis and Justin. She looked to see whether the women across the room had any reaction to the children being with them and was relieved to find that Aunt Leta and the others had their heads bent in conversation.

“Why are you not doing your lessons now, children?” she asked. “It is not yet time for the midday meal, is it? Do you not have a tutor?”

The boy shrugged. “We do what we want. We did have a tutor last week, but Hugh and Hugo put a snake in his bed and he left. Alex hasn’t found a new one yet, but it won’t matter when he does. Hugh and Hugo always get rid of them in a few days.”

“Once they put salt in the tutor’s wineglass!” Candis said with a giggle. “It was so funny to see him try to drink it without choking! He was too afraid to tell Alex that the wine was bad!”

“How horrid!” Lillis said, surprised at the anger in her voice. “Are your brothers not punished after they do such things?”

“Ye-e-es,” Justin replied haltingly, sounding somewhat uncertain.

Amazed, Lillis shook her head. “That’s too bad for the both of you, is it not? You are deprived of an education because of your brothers’ behavior. Where are your nurses? Who looks after you during the day?”

“We only have one nurse,” Justin supplied. “Her name is Molly and she sleeps a lot.”

Candis giggled again. “She keeps wine hidden in her room and drinks it during the day. We wait until she’s snoring and then we sneak out. But it was hard to wait today, because we wanted to see the witch.”

“Well,” Lillis said with some disgust, “I’ve already told you that I’m not a witch. As to your nurse—” She was so angry she couldn’t continue.

“Does the lord of the castle not care that your nurse is so sleepy all the time?” Edyth asked.

“He’s very busy,” Justin replied, as though that should explain.

“I see,” Edyth said feebly, and exchanged wondering glances with Lillis.

“What of your Aunt Leta?” Lillis asked. “She manages the household for your brother. Does she not care about your lack of supervision?”

The children cast glances at each other, then looked at Lillis.

“Aunt Leta doesn’t mind us as long as we’re quiet. And Barbara says it would be mean to make us do what we don’t want to, because we don’t have parents.”

“Oh, my!” Edyth cried, unable to contain herself any longer. “What kind of place is this? Even the children in the orphanage had better care!”

“It’s none of our concern, Edyth,” Lillis warned. “We’ll not be here long enough to make any difference in the lives of these children, so just get those thoughts right out of your head.”

Edyth looked at her very pleadingly. “But, my dear, they’re just babies—”

“It would be unwise for us to become involved with these two,” Lillis said firmly, then looked at Candis and Justin. “Although I suppose it would be all right to see if they like to play games. Do you?”

“What kind of games?” Candis asked, wide-eyed.

“Why, all kinds. Edyth and I know almost any game you’d care to name. And stories, too. I know a wonderful story I can tell you this very minute, if you wish it.”

They did wish it, and both came closer. Edyth set one child on each knee and Lillis began her tale.

“The knight took up his lance,” Lillis said toward the end of the story, standing and using her arms to demonstrate just how it had been done, “and he took one step, two steps, three steps closer to where the evil man lay. Slowly he lifted his lance, aimed it at the man before him, and—”

A shriek from across the great hall surprised the little group. The children clung to Edyth, and Lillis dropped her hands; all of them looked to where the scream had sounded from.

It seemed to have come from one of the ladies who sat sewing at the other end of the hall, though from which one it was impossible to tell, as they were all now standing and looking with distress at Lillis and Edyth. Two of the ladies, Aunt Leta and a stunningly beautiful redheaded lady, came flying across the room.

“Hold them!” Aunt Leta shouted to the guards behind Edyth and Lillis. “Hold them!”

Looking rather uncertain, the guards moved to do as they were bid, and in a moment Lillis and Edyth found themselves dragged into the firm grasps of the two men. Justin and Candis still clung to Edyth’s skirt in an effort to protect themselves from whatever it was that threatened them.

“How could you threaten such innocent children?!” the redheaded lady cried as she came upon them. Lillis stared at her in surprise.

“I—”

The redheaded woman, or rather girl, for she was certainly younger than Lillis, grabbed Candis and pulled her away from Edyth, scaring her so badly that the child began to cry. Aunt Leta came huffing and puffing behind her and did the same to a bewildered Justin.

“What were you doing to these children?” she demanded.

“I—we—” Lillis sputtered in wonder. What did they think they had been doing to them?

“She was telling them a very interesting story,” came a voice from the shadows of the nearby stairwell. “I should think that would have been obvious, Aunt Leta.”

Alexander of Gyer strolled slowly into the light.

“Release them,” he instructed the guards, and received immediate compliance. “Do not lay hands on these ladies again unless your instructions come directly from me. And I mean directly. Do you understand?” he asked. They nodded.

“Alex!” The redheaded lady stamped her foot angrily. “That woman was getting ready to strike one of the children! I saw it with my own two eyes. You should have the both of them locked in chains in the cellar. Who knows what a daughter of Wellewyn is capable of doing? She’s already caused poor Hugh and Hugo to be punished quite horribly.”

“Barbara.” Alexander of Gyer sounded surprised, and Lillis couldn’t keep herself from looking at him. His expression was pained as he gazed at the redheaded girl, and she suddenly realized that the tiny creature before her was his betrothed. Barbara. She looked back at the girl and felt a familiar twinge of jealousy. Here was everything that Lillis, herself, was not, yet had always wished to be. The lady Barbara was as delicate as a butterfly, her features were lovely and feminine; her hands, her feet, everything about her was dainty and frail looking, as though she could easily be broken. And she was beautiful. Very beautiful.

“It’s true, Alex,” Barbara returned petulantly, “and I’m disappointed that you would take the word of this—” she looked at Lillis with contempt “—lady over your own brothers. And after they did you such a favor by capturing her. You should be praising instead of punishing them.”

How did she do it? Lillis wondered. How could she speak so angrily and yet still seem so sweet and merely a little silly? If anything, her childish speech would melt a man’s heart rather than enrage him. Lillis looked to see what effect it had on Alexander of Gyer.

“No, Barbara, I’m the one who is disappointed,” he chided gently, coming closer and looking impossibly handsome. “I assured our guests that you would be ready to welcome them in the hall this afternoon, but when I came to see how things fared I found they had been kept separate from the other women. I expected better of you, and certainly better of you, Aunt Leta.” He gave that lady a more pointed look.

The dainty creature’s big green eyes welled with sudden tears. “You—you cannot be so cruel as to expect me to entertain them! Prisoners, my lord?”

“While they are here,” he said curtly, “these ladies will be treated as honored guests. Now take the children to their nurse. We shall discuss this matter later.”

His tone did not invite discussion, though both Aunt Leta and Lady Barbara looked as though they had more to say. However, they kept silent and dutifully led Justin and Candis toward the stairs. A gentle hand grasped Lillis’s elbow.

“I beg your pardon, my lady,” Alexander of Gyer apologized sincerely. “You must forgive my aunt and cousin. They tend to think the worst of anyone from Wellewyn, I fear.”

“Do they?” Lillis wrenched her elbow free. “Do you know that your betrothed has been telling your brother and sister that I am a witch who turns children into mice and sets houses afire?”

He stiffened, yet his expression remained polite. “If that is what Candis and Justin told you, then either you misunderstood them or they are mistaken. I know they have some childish idea about you being a witch, but Barbara would never tell them such ridiculous tales. They heard them from Hugh and Hugo, more like, or from one of the villagers.”

“I did not misunderstand them, my lord, but that is neither here nor there. She is your betrothed, not mine, and you may believe what you wish of her. She is none of my concern.”

He seemed amazed that she would dare speak to him so. “That is true, my lady, and you will do well to remember it. My cousin is my concern alone, and I’ll not discuss her with you. Do not speak of her again.”

Lillis uttered a laugh. “As a matter of course, my lord, it would please me greatly to neither speak of nor see her again. My companion and I have enough to worry over without having to endure the distinct pleasure of Lady Barbara’s company.”

Alexander of Gyer’s face flushed, but still his voice was calm. “I had thought, my lady, to give you as much access to my household as possible as a way of making your stay more pleasant, but I begin to think I was wrong. Mayhap I should keep you and your Edyth locked in your chamber. Then you’d need not worry about having anyone’s company but your own.”

His rigid self-control and polite manner of threatening were unnerving, but Lillis wouldn’t let herself be intimidated.

“Perhaps you should,” she agreed. “But why stop there, my lord? Why not do as your Barbara suggests and shackle us in chains? It would be most gratifying to know that your brothers had come by their inhuman natures honestly.”

His eyebrows rose in further amazement, indicating the success of this strike; nonetheless, his tone remained maddeningly calm.

“Perhaps I should,” he softly repeated her own words back to her. “Perhaps, depending upon your father’s future behavior, I shall. For now, however, I have promised that you shall be treated as guests, and will be content to escort you to your chamber so that you may enjoy the afternoon meal in the privacy you requested of me this morn.”

Lillis measured his polite words and expression and understood that he’d ceded the battle to her. He’d not argue the matter with her further, which was a relief, though Lillis wasn’t certain if he’d given way because she was too unimportant to waste his time on, or because he’d known that she, herself, would not give way. She would, however, gracefully acknowledge his peace offering by extending one of her own.

“You have not yet been properly introduced to my maid,” she told him, reaching out a hand to draw her timid companion forward. “Alexander of Gyer, I make known to you Edyth Lielyn, daughter of Sir Edward Lielyn of Cantfield.”