13

13

Aimee woke late the next morning, and by the time she had descended downstairs, the table in the dining chamber was empty, though it bore signs of more than one person having broken their fast. “Good morning,” she greeted Golda who was sweeping up crumbs from the table. “It seems I am last one down this morning.”

Golda pursed her lips, straightening up. “Both ladies graced us with their presence this morn,” she commented dryly. “Before they set forth a-visiting.”

Aimee nodded, sitting herself down. “Lord Kentigern told me they would be visiting acquaintance at the palace this day.”

Golda sniffed. “I doubt they will set the place alight. Pair of old crows!”

“Golda!” Aimee reproached her mildly. “Mistress Freda and I actually spent a very pleasant day together yesterday.”

“Good of her!” Golda huffed. “She ought to be waiting on you, not that sour bag of goods as is her cousin!”

“Well,” Aimee said soothingly. “She is my sister-in-law’s companion. It is small wonder her loyalties are divided.”

“Huh!” Golda slammed a plate of baked fish before her. “You should tell his high and mightiness how his own sister thinks herself too good for your company!”

Aimee helped herself to a piece of bread. “I think he knows,” she admitted ruefully, remembering their conversation from the night before.

Golda’s mouth fell open. “Who told him, do you suppose, milady?” she wondered aloud. After a moment, she shrugged. “I daresay he has eyes in his ’ead, for all one of them’s blind.”

Aimee shot her an admonishing glance, but as her mouth was full of bread and butter, she could utter no reproach. It wasn’t really Lord Kentigern’s conversation that had occupied her thoughts thus far this morning, she acknowledged to herself as her cheeks warmed. But rather, his actions.

She felt tender between her legs, reminding her of what had transpired between them, but she was nowhere near as sore as she had been before. She had certainly enjoyed it a good deal more this time. Last time, she had been unable to lie easy when he had toyed with her body. He hadn’t really spoken much, and she had been tense and nervous. She had also harbored a horrible suspicion that he did not enjoy touching her.

Last night had been different somehow. It’s been a long time, he had told her. Since I’ve been with a woman. Aimee could not help the wayward smile that curved her lips, so she pressed her ale cup to her mouth to hide it from Golda’s sharp gaze. Lord Kentigern had not lain with any woman but her, not since he had been so brutally injured in the war. That had to be six years at least, she marveled.

She felt highly gratified by his admission. She was his wife, and it was right that he should tell her such things. She was unspeakably proud that he could let his guard down around her. She wanted to receive all his confidences and guard them jealously. She would say all the right things and soothe his savage brow. She would be the companion and helpmeet of his bosom.

Her spirits, which had plummeted to an all-time low in the wake of their marriage, were soaring giddily once more. All would be well, Aimee thought. She just had to be patient and give him time to accept her in his life. It was bound to be strange and even jarring to him to suddenly have a wife by his side to make room for. She just had to be patient and slowly prove herself invaluable to him and all would fall into its proper place.

At midday, her father called in. “I cannot tarry long, daughter,” he told her, clasping her hand in welcome. “For I am speaking at the guild this afternoon. I just wanted to drop this by for you.” He handed over a wrapped package.

“What is it, Father?”

“I had that brooch of yours straightened out,” he said genially.

Aimee unwrapped the silver heart and found it polished and gleaming with all dents disappeared and the decorative edging, which had been bent and twisted, standing proud. The lettering which spelt out Heart be Trewe was now inlaid with gleaming gold. “Oh, Father!” she exclaimed. “Why, it looks almost a different brooch! How lovely it now looks!” Carefully, she lifted it out of its wrappings and found that a short silver chain was now hanging from the central eyelet at the bottom. From this chain was suspended a large and lustrous pearl. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Oh, how beautiful! A pearl!”

Her father shrugged. “It’s a shame the brooch is not gold,” he said. “But it’s a pretty enough trifle.”

“I could not possibly like it more than I already do,” Aimee said stoutly. “I shall wear it to the tournament tomorrow with pride! How pleased Freda will be to see it looking so well.”

Her father patted her shoulder. “Well, well. It was a nice gesture of hers to give it to you.” He looked around. “Mistress Freda does not keep you company today?” He sounded a little disappointed.

“No, alas,” Aimee answered quickly. “She had a visit to make with Magnatrude, so I will not see her until this evening.”

Her father accepted this without comment. “I must eat my supper alone tonight, I find,” he sighed. “For your sister is moving out today into her new house.”

Aimee frowned. “I thought she would have moved out quite two days ago!”

Gerold shook his head. “Hilda did not think Ursula was feeling strong enough for such exertions.”

“Hilda!” Aimee exclaimed with displeasure, thinking of the overprotective old servant.

“Well, well, you know she can be a bit of a mother hen when Ursa is concerned.”

Aimee pulled a face. “Ursula is now a married woman, Father!”

“Now, now, Aimee, you must not take on so,” he counselled, patting her shoulder. “You know your sister is not so stout of heart as you.”

Aimee tutted. “At this rate, Sir Renlow will think she is frail as an old woman!” She bit her lip. “Of course, I will see her at the royal tournament tomorrow. I can speak to her then.” Her father avoided her eye. “Why do you look like that? Ursula surely means to attend the royal tournament, Father?” she asked with some misgiving.

Gerold looked evasive. “As to that, she was undecided last time it was mentioned.”

“I daresay Hilda thinks it would be too much for her!” Aimee could not help but retort. “Why, I have half a mind to come back with you now and give her a piece of my mind!”

“You must not do that, Aimee!” her father said hastily. “She will be far too busy overseeing her packing. Besides, I am not going back to the house. I told you, I am attending the merchant’s guild this afternoon.”

Aimee huffed with displeasure. “I had thought to see my sister on the morrow!” she muttered. “I thought for certain that she would wish to cheer her husband on.”

“Well, you may still see her there,” her father said without conviction.

Somehow, Aimee doubted it very much. With an effort, she pulled herself together. “I am sorry, Father. I should not be complaining to you of it. Not after you have just given me such a handsome present.”

“Nay, it was not I gave you the brooch, but Mistress Freda.”

“The pearl was from you,” she pointed out, taking his hand. “And I dearly love it.” He beamed at her. “If you have no desire for your own company at supper this evening, then you could always take your meal here with us.”

He waved away her offer at once. “Nay, certainly not, child! I spoke in jest,” he said hurriedly. “In truth, I do not lack for company. I daresay I shall sup with Master Crawley,” he said, mentioning another senior at the merchant’s guild. “It has been an age since we exchanged our news, and I have much to apprise him of with two daughters lately married.”

She smiled perfunctorily at that, and he kissed her cheek and hurried off about his business. The rest of the day passed quietly. The first of Freda’s new gowns was delivered, and Aimee set this carefully on her new relative’s bed herself so that it would not crease or wrinkle before the next day. Then she set about selecting her own outfit for the big day. She would, of course, be wearing the particolored gown in the Kentigern colors of blue and yellow. With it she would wear her gold chain, her blue beads, a gold thread hairnet, and her silver brooch with the pearl.

She ate her supper alone as none of the Bartrees returned in time to take it with her, a fact that made Golda’s expression grow tight with disapproval. After that, she took a long, leisurely bath and retired early to bed, both nervous and excited for the morrow.