Boadicea's Legacy (33 page)

“Are you thinking of Thomas de Havel? He is more of a weasel than Henry here, and the castellan will have orders to ensure the knight doesn't get past the gates.”

Shivering, Ela said, “I was thinking of Lady Steffen.”

“You think she's evil?”

“Not evil … just … confused. She has to know that her son is an abomination.” Chills dotted Ela's nape.

“They say that a mother's love is blind.”

“Who says that?” Ela demanded, turning to kiss Os on the chin. “We should find them and have them drawn and quartered at dawn.”

“You are a bloodthirsty little wench—obviously left over from your time as Ana.”

Ela smiled to herself, wondering if Os realized that he was accepting their shared past as fact. There was nothing logical about what had happened, yet he loved her enough to accept it anyway.

The bell in the church tower tolled eleven times. “I won't have time for a bath!”

“I think you smell nice. You smell like me.” His voice was low and seductive, his breath warm against her ear.

“Stop it,” she ordered with a squirm. “You wanted to wait ‘til we were married, so it isn't fair to tease.” A groom came to take Bartholomew's reins as they stopped outside the stables.

“I'll need to talk to Albric and Warin about joining us—oh, and St. Germaine. You got on well with them, did you not?”

“For certes, invite who you like. I'm ready to begin our new life. Together.”

The first of May and Beltane seemed like yesterday, and yet Midsummer's Eve was less than a fortnight away. If they traveled fast, she might be in her new home in time to celebrate the festival with the villagers at Montehue Manor.

They walked toward the castle steps. “I'll go to my chamber to try and get the grass from my hair,” she said with a satisfied smile.

“I'll meet you in the great hall.”

Even though public displays of affection were not considered polite, he kissed her fully, igniting that spark to a delicious flame. “You are a changed man, Osbert Edyvean. And I think I like it.”

He went in search of his friends while she floated up the stone steps. Determined to find her chamber and some hot water, and aye, a brush, she kept her head down as she went toward the stairs leading to her rooms. She'd not even reached the first step when she was stopped by a frantic lady-in-waiting. “Lady Ela of Montehue?”

“Aye.” Ela noted the petite woman's flushed cheeks and bright, panic-filled eyes. “What is it? Is someone ill?” The villagers at home all knew to come to her if they were sick. And they often had that same look of panic.

“Ill? No, no, my lady—'tis the Countess Isabella.”

“Countess Isabella—I thought her name was Ida.” Mayhap the earl had two wives as well as two mistresses?

“The Earl calls her that too, for a pet name. But”—the
lady-in-waiting grasped Ela's forearm—”she wants to see you immediately. I waited outside your chamber almost all night …” The lady-in-waiting took a breath and finally realized that Ela's attire was wrinkled and her hair was a mess—and missing its veils.

“Oh.”

A flush crept up Ela's neck. “I would like to freshen up, and then I will be happy to see the countess.”

“We can't wait, I'm sorry. ‘Tis terribly urgent. My lady has been crying all evening.”

Ela patted her hair, which was knotted in a loose bun with escaping tendrils that hung down her back like vines from a tree. “I am not presentable—I am to get married in less than an hour. Mayhap after the ceremony?”

“Nay, nay.” The woman pulled on her arm, taking her to the private tower of the earl's family.

Ela allowed herself to be led toward the countess. Her duties as a healer compelled her. “Why is she crying?”

“She will tell you everything. And while you listen, I will untangle your hair.”

Ela perked up at that. “Lead on.”

As they neared the chamber, Ela sensed great sadness. Her steps slowed, and she decided that she really didn't want to enter the countess's rooms.

The lady-in-waiting knocked once, then opened the door. “Come.”

Stepping over the threshold as cautiously as if she were entering a bear's cave, Ela stilled, closed her eyes and
absorbed the energies of the room.

Angry reds and muddied oranges filled her mind, possibly meaning bitter arguments and worry. She opened her eyes, slowly, letting them become accustomed to the dim, candlelit room.

Countess Ida sat in her bed, propped up with pillows. Her pale face was ravaged with emotion, and her trembling hands clutched the coverlet.

She lifted one of those spectral hands and gestured for Ela to come closer. “Sit,” she whispered. “Please.”

Ela did as she was asked, taking in the ugly red energy mass above the countess's belly. “A miscarriage?”

“How did you know?” The countess hiccupped.

“I … I have a gift for healing.”

“That is not why I asked for you to see me.”

Ela nodded, her attention distracted by the pain the countess had to be feeling. The healer in her wanted to press her hands to the wounded abdomen, and—”What do you think?”

“Hmm,” Ela replied noncommitally and pinched herself to focus on what the woman was saying.

“We had a terrible fight. Why must he have a mistress? More than one at a time, even? I see to his needs, aye, but he gets bored. He is a powerful man, the earl is, and it is my duty to love and honor and obey him. But I don't like it. Nay, I hate it.”

Ela nodded, uncomfortable at being an unwilling confidant.

“I wanted to know if you truly wished to wed—for if
you didn't, then I would protest. You are a beautiful young woman without a high station—most fortunate.” The countess waved her hand. “I was a bartering tool, but I had the misfortune to fall in love with my husband.”

“I see …” Ela stared down at her lap.

The countess patted her stomach and burst into fresh tears. “I am nothing but a titled brood mare.”

“Now, now …” The lady-in-waiting came forward with a brush, a basin filled with perfumed water, and a towel. “I am certain that the earl loves you, my lady. He stays here in residence with you, when he doesn't have to, aye?”

The lady-in-waiting gave a sharp glance to Ela and a jerk of her chin.

Oh! “Aye, yea. The earl truly loves you. I saw it in the way he kissed your cheek yesterday.”

“You did?” Countess Ida stopped crying.

“Aye. He seemed very proud of you.” And completely oblivious to the fact that he'd hurt her by having a love affair with Lady Steffen. Men. Would Osbert stray?
Nay
—the man had the willpower of a monk.

“I make him smile, he says.”

Love. It had seemed so sweet just this morning.

The lady-in-waiting stood behind Ela and started to brush through the tangles with firm strokes. “My lady Isabella is an amusing companion. Unfortunately, her dear friend Natalia had to leave unexpectedly, leaving my lady alone with her worries.”

Lady Steffen was gone? Ela wondered if it had been
a forced ejection from the friendship as well as the castle. Would she try and find her son? To what purpose?

The lady-in-waiting lightly tapped Ela on the head. “Oh? Oh …” Ela looked at the countess as if she'd heard every word.

“I said that I wished I had a friend. A friend I could count on. Not you, dear,” the countess said with a small smile. “My friends from now on will need to be ugly.”

Startled, Ela laughed, and the sound echoed around the dreary chamber.

“I know you went to visit Kailyn last night. I wish to know what you learned. Roger tells me he is searching for some magical spear to lead into a possible war, but I think he's lying to protect his Iceni whore.”

Ela swallowed, quickly thinking on what to answer—and in what order. “My lady, it is true that I went to visit Kailyn—she is a cousin of sorts. Her home is small, very cozy. Not a single silk curtain or glass cup. You could fit her entire house into this chamber, and you would still have more room.”

The countess peered at her, ascertaining if she was telling the truth.

“I was surprised to find my … cousin, to be plump. Wan around the face. But kind.”

“I heard that she can see the future.”

“Yea? Well, she did for me, as well. She saw my marriage to Os.” Ela let her happiness shine through, hoping to remind the countess that she was supposed to be downstairs
in a few moments' time. She wasn't exactly lying—Kailyn had seen Ana with Antonias, and that might count as a truth.

“Marriage! That's right—'tis to be at noon today. Oh dear. Well, Nance has your hair done. Wash your hands and face, and choose a gown from my wardrobe. Never mind,” the countess swung her legs over the side of the bed and winced.

Ela stood. “My lady—may I try to ease your pain?”

Confused, Countess Ida shook her head, but Ela wouldn't accept no as an answer. “I am quite good. All the people at Montehue Manor know they can come to me with their illnesses.” Gently pushing her back on the bed, Ela placed her hand over the shocked countess's belly, sending healing waves of light to unblock the mass of pain within her woman's parts. Ela concentrated on making everything whole, so that Countess Ida would still be able to carry children.

Five minutes later, the countess rose to her feet. “Was that magic?”

Ela stared at the floor and shook her head. “It is a gift from God. An inherited talent.”

“It doesn't matter. God bless you, and thank you. Now, I was going to give you a dress to wear, but please, take two as payment for healing me so swiftly. I can't believe it. Nance, did you see that?”

The lady-in-waiting nodded and plumped the pillows on the bed, her mouth a straight, grim line.

Ela had no more time to worry over offending anyone with her gifts. She was going to be late to her own wedding!

Osbert straightened the collar on his tunic and reached into his pocket for the Iceni coin he'd been given by the man in the marsh. It had fallen aside in their mad lovemaking last night, so Ela had never seen it.

The earl coughed. “Are you certain she's coming?”

“Aye. She's coming.” Os planted his feet firmly on the floor and clasped his hands behind his back—the image of a man brimming with confidence.

What if she'd changed her mind—what if she wanted a man with titles?

He shook his head, the ends of his hair still damp. A quick plunge and wash in the river had revitalized him. And awakened his doubts. Doubts she'd kissed away last night with her hot tongue and eager body.

“She'll not recognize you in your finery.” The earl scratched his chin. “Mayhap she wants a man with coin—did you tell her that ye weren't penniless?”

“Nay.” It hadn't ever come up in conversation, had it? “She's not like that.”

The priest cleared his throat.

“We'll need to finish that conversation we started,” the earl said with a glance at the harried priest. “Later.”

“My lord, this is my wedding day.”

“And ye celebrated early, which is why there is still business to be done. It will not take long, and your bride is
welcome—though talk of money will mostly likely bore her.”

Osbert exhaled. “Fine.”

Where in God's name was she?

Visions of her picking up the hem of her skirts and running hell-bent for home made his pulse spike, and sweat dotted his forehead.

The priest said, “I've things to do, Roger—you told me I would be finished quickly. If the bride doesn't come soon, I must go.”

“She's coming.” Osbert's heart sped. “She's coming now.”

The running footsteps came to a sliding halt, followed by the sound of a bang and a whispered curse outside the door. Os lowered his head to hide his relieved smile.

A servant opened the door, his face stoic, and there she was, a vision in violet and silver. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders to the floor, a meshed silver net of beads and crystals covering the ruby tresses like a waterfall of stars.

Her gown shimmered, and she wore a girdle of silver, belted at her slender waist. With each step she took, she glittered. She was an angel.

“Ah,” the earl said softly. “I see why we waited, and it was well worth it. Congratulations, Osbert Edyvean.”

Ela's rose-colored smile crossed her face as she dipped her head to the earl, the priest, and Osbert.

The ceremony was simple, but binding. Ela belonged to him.

At the close, Osbert took the Iceni coin from his pocket. Tarnished and old, punched through with a nail so that he
could tie a leather thong through it, he held it in his hand. “This happened so fast that I didn't have time to give you a bridal gift—not even a ring.”

She was shaking her head, as if letting him know that she didn't need those things—he saw the love in her eyes.