Chapter 11

"Will, pray, come here. You are needed right away!"

His mother"s voice cut through the melee, bringing Will to his senses.

It was a day or so later in the Rothingham Great Hall. But struggling to get awake, Will barely realized it. To him, it might as well have been the same long day. Because once again, he had drifted off. It was difficult not to. Nodding off had become second nature to him on these occasions.

"Um, of course, Mother," said Will, eyes darting about the crowded chamber.

Briefly, he frowned. The great hall was heaving; ladies clad in lavish dresses sashayed up and down on unsuitable chopines. For a minute, Will struggled to recall what was happening. Then he remembered; a banquet had been laid on in his honor. And all the eligible ladies of the town were invited. Of course, the idea had been his mother"s, but reluctantly, Will had agreed to it.

Unfortunately, the duchess had taken it upon herself to curate a list of women that Will personally could not abide. Watching as they streamed in through the doors, Will hid a sigh. There they all were, the feather-brained fopdoodles of London.

Lady Matilda, Lady Alice, Lady Caroline...that other one, Princess Margarita of Something. Unsurprisingly, his mother was especially keen on this last one, despite the fact she was not even English at all.

"Will!" the duchess"s voice was insistent, and Will, who found he was staring glassily off into the crowd, came to with a jolt.

"Will, I do not know what is holding you," his mother chided, pressing her way through the crowd to meet him. Now she jogged his elbow, looking at him pertinently.

Finally, Will looked around. Biting down his irritation, he smiled.

"Nothing, Mother," he reassured. His eyes had strayed to the ends of the room. She would be here soon, he felt sure of it. She had assured him.

"Good because you are to be seated here beside Lady Lettice Fortescue, only daughter of Lord Thomas Fortescue." She paused and smiled at the woman, then dropped her voice. "Their family owns half of Normandy, so kindly make her welcome."

Will smiled, trying his best to look attentive, but it was hard to stop his eyes from wandering. Besides him, an indignantly plump woman with pallid features and a stupid hat greeted him.

"Lady Fortescue," said Will politely, trying not to notice the wart on her upper lip. He bowed before her, causing her to shriek aloud.

"My friends call me Lettie," she twittered. "But as we are not friends yet, you shalt address me as Lady Lettice."

Will hovered uncertainly. Was she joking or serious? It was hard to tell. A few moments later, a shrill peal of laughter from across the table almost shattered his ears.

There, another lady, wearing a headdress so elaborate it almost toppled her head, shrieked with mirth, "My lord, you must work hard to win her affections—and ours as well. You neglect us."

This set the table off in a ricochet of laughter. Whatever the lady had said was apparently hilarious, although Will struggled to understand why.

"Dearest, do not neglect your other guests," cut in his mother, nodding imperiously at him. Will leaped. He knew that look. It was pure arsenic wrapped into a smile.

Will tried to smile, but in reality, his heart sank. He would never get used to this, although, by now, he really should be.

The horrors of the London "scene" had scarred him for weeks; hours of small talk with haughty women with whom he had precisely nothing in common.

"Furs?" piped up Lettice.

Will blinked. Did he hear that right? Looking around, he discovered that, somehow, they were already seated next to each other at the table. Not only that, but he was halfway through eating civet.

And beside him, Lettie, dabbing her lips, continued, "Furs, which suits best; fox, sable, or both?" she asked haughtily.

"They both suit the animal itself well enough!" answered Will unsurely. He did not know what kind of answer Lettice required, but from the hiss of laughter, he guessed it was not that one.

However, Will was not watching. His eyes were drawn suddenly to the end of the table, where out of nowhere, Lissie had appeared.

Will"s heart convulsed in shock, and it was hard for him not to spit out the food he had taken. Internally, his organs shook. Everything was in an uproar.

Lissie was there, dancing and cavorting, for all to see—and all did see. The impression she had made on the room was tangible.

From across the table, one or two of the other ladies looked over, and feverishly, Will sensed jealousy in their eyes. It was easy to see why.

Lissie shone like a flame from the end of the room. She was so bright, it was almost impossible not to look at her. Will"s mouth almost fell open at the sight of her long, blue gown. The color contrasted with her dark hair, bringing out the hue of her eyes to perfection.

For a moment, Will was lost, staring. Then something nudged him.

"Your brother has found a comely piece. But will he understand her?"

Will looked around to see Lettice eyeing Lissie intently. But more than that, now that the crowd around them had thinned, he saw what Lettice had been referring to.

Trenton.

Will"s heart popped again. Then he sighed. The sight of his brother with his arm around Lissie jarred horribly. Nevertheless, he had secured her invitation on the proviso she would keep Trenton busy.

Mother had not been so keen to invite the "comely Scottish piece," but Will had insisted. Using the pretext that she would help calm Trenton down, she had agreed reluctantly.

The only problem now was that Trenton was anything but calm. In fact, he was most excited. Leaning into her ear, he whispered something to make her laugh uproariously. Lissie threw her head back and laughed without a trace of a care.

Will"s heart leaped.

There was something about this girl that got him. Maybe it was the way she did not seem to give a fig about anything, including the conventions of London life.

A space opened up around her, allowing Will the chance to better look. Unlike the others, Lissie was vital and alive.

It was impossible for Will not to eat her up with his eyes. All he could think about was how to get her to himself. But there was one problem. She was there to occupy his brother, and occupy him she did—and everybody else.

Once again, Lettice cleared her throat. "So, is that who she is chasing today?" she snarked.

Will did not listen. He was staring so hard at Lissie that Lettie almost hit him. Coughing, she dragged his attention back to her.

"Are you alright?" Will asked finally. He looked at the lady warily. Lettie looked point-blank at him.

"Look at that wench. Naught more than a serving wench in her mistress"s hand-me-downs!"

A tart look flashed across her face. Will saw the jealousy laid bare. Really, he should apologize. It was bad form for him to so openly stare, but somehow, it was impossible. Instead, irritation gripped him.

"That"s Lady Elisabeth; she"s no servant," he said curtly. Then he turned to Lettice and tried to smile. But it was too late, the damage had been done. Sniffly, Lady Lettice turned to him.

"She is no lady, and they say that her clan is a viper"s nest," tutted Lettie.

"A bit like London, then," flashed Will, his quick-fire remark unforgiving. "At least Scotland is a friend to the true king, unlike here, where there are so many snakes on the ground!"

Almost as soon as the words were out, Will regretted his outburst. But really, he could not help it. The current situation was not something that could be brushed aside. He had to be careful. London was full of Yorkists. Being loyal to the true king was a lonely place to be right now.

A bit like his loyalty to Lissie. Unfortunately, it had not endeared him to Lady Fortescue. Lettice stared at him as if he sprouted a second head. But Will did not care. Pushing up from the table, he made his choice. To hell with his mother"s control, he was going to do what he should have done right from the start.

He was going to ask Lissie to be with him.

* * *

Will pushedhis way through the melee and gluttony of dancing and headed straight toward her. Watching him, a thrill tingled through Lissie from her midriff to her thighs.

He was looking good.

Of course, she pretended not to look. But she had noticed him from the moment he entered the room. Now he was smiling, pressing forward into the room. As he passed, he greeted the other ladies courteously; he did not linger. Instead, he was locked on to her.

"My sweeting..."

A hand scaled her back, delving behind her shawl. The hairs stood up on the back of Lissie"s neck, and she flinched.

Then a voice called, "My sweet leof, return your eyes to me and refill my cups, what-ho! I demand your sweet obedience."

It was not him. Composing herself, Lissie turned around.

"Trenton," she said, forcing herself to smile. "It seems tae me you have had enough mead!"

"Nonsense!" Trenton roared.

It was early, but already his cheeks were flame-red from wine. Feasting was one thing that Trenton took seriously, and calls for moderation did not go down well at all.

"Drink. Drink. Drink," he chanted, slamming down his goblet on the table.

By now, he was making enough noise that half the table turned around. His mother, the dowager duchess, looked on.

She drew her perfect brow into a frown at the sight of Trenton. Then, her gaze went past him and over to her. For the first time, Lissie realized she had the same eyes as her son; clear and blue.

Her stare left Lissie uncomfortable. Dropping her eyes, Lissie looked away. She did not approve. That much was clear. Heart sinking, it became obvious to Lissie that the duchess had never wished to invite her.

But then, that must mean that Will had! This thought brought a smile to Lissie"s lips, as Will came nearer. Their eyes connected for a moment as they stood and gazed at one another. He was smiling, just not with his mouth—the glint was in his eyes, dancing as he looked at her.

"What ho, are you going to get us a drink? A man could die of thirst."

Unsure, Lissie looked. Will had not spoken. Beside her, Trenton was mithering and generally acting as if his throat had been cut.

"Some more mead, if you will." He handed her the goblet with a grin.

Taking this as her cue, Lissie smiled and leaned over to the carafe nearby. It was a little out of reach, and she was about to ask the maid to bring it over, but the noise in the room had reached ear-splitting levels. Presently, Will came over.

"Allow me," he said, surreptitiously bringing the carafe over and refilling Lissie"s goblet. He was about to pour into the second goblet, then stopped himself. Taking a look toward Trenton, he hesitated.

"Is he behaving himself?" he asked softly.

Lissie rolled her eyes.

"He"s braw," she said with a smile. Will looked uncertain. It took some time for Lissie to realize that he did not understand. Sighing, she tried to elaborate.

"Dinnae fash," she said. "He"s no problem."

Will"s hand hesitated over the goblet. Then, he put the carafe of liquor down and called for the maids. Quickly, the serving girl, a pudding-faced wench with nervous eyes, handed him a jug of water.

His gaze met Lissie closely. Will poured the second goblet full of water before pointedly handing it back to Trenton.

"Here, I say," exploded Trenton, his face a contortion of dismay. It was hard for Lissie not to laugh at him, he was so comical in his disappointment. But right then, she only had eyes for one Rothingham.

"Prithee, if I could have a moment, mistress?" said Will, taking her aside.

Eyes were everywhere. Lady Caroline glared at her with no uncertainty. They hated her. The look on Lettie"s face gave it away.

"Will," she began.

But Will batted them away and then returned to her.

"I-I," began Lissie. In the heat of the moment, she found herself open-mouthed. Things were all happening so fast. "I am nae sure it would be seemly, sir."

Then, a strange noise, like a crazed horse, stopped her. Lissie looked to see Trenton face-down on the tabletop, snoring.

Will sighed. "I doubt you could ever be unseemly, madam," he said smoothly. "Unlike my brother, for whom I must apologize."

Lissie could not help but beam. She got the strong impression that apologizing was something Will did a lot for Trenton. She knew the feeling.

"Sir, dinnae fash. I ken what it is like having a brother." She grinned. "More than once, oor Billie has embarrassed nae only me, but the entire clan. Did I ever tell ye he once started a war wi" a clan when he was only sent to return a cask o" whiskey?"

Will blinked in incomprehension. "How?" he asked.

"Well, he delivered the cask empty," began Lissie. She was about to elaborate but stopped herself dead when she saw his face.

Behind them, Lady Caroline hid a sneer as Alice and Lettie sniggered into their handkerchiefs.

Mentally, Lissie was kicking herself. Once again, she had made herself into a fool.

However, Will did not laugh. He nodded, grave-faced, then ushered Lissie to the side of the room, away from prying eyes. Heart beating, Lissie"s head clammed up. They were all watching. But that was not what was bothering her. It was the way he was looking at her. Fear grabbed her, wrenching up from the bottom of her stomach.

She had embarrassed him, she felt sure. Fear prickling its way up inside her stomach, Lissie followed Will blindly to the edge of the room. There, she had a surprise.

Putting his hand on her shoulder, Will leaned in close.

"Lissie, pray do not refuse my request. Prithee, come to the entertainment tomorrow at Lord Sudbury"s private house. I will call for you at evensong."

Lissie hesitated. Her heart gave a giant start; she hardly knew what to say. Instead, her eyes wandered over to his.

"Will," she began. Inside, her head worked double speed to try and work out what to say.

Why is it so hard? Just one simple word.

Eventually, it came out. Through the packed crowd, but in the dark, Lissie took his hand.

"Yes."