Claire Delacroix (72 page)

Brigid nodded easily.

Alys shook her head. “Nay, Brigid. Burke came only for the tournaments Uncle Cedric planned. ’Twas three years past.”

Brigid nodded happily. “And then ag-g-gain,” she asserted. “The n-n-next year.”

Alys sat back, stunned to have Burke’s claim confirmed. She wondered whether her cousin was confused, but then Edana leaned forward.

“I remember that,” she affirmed. “ ’Twas but a year after the tourneys and he rode through the gate on that great black horse, those blue caparisons flapping in the wind. ’Twas like an old tale come to life.”

Brigid nodded agreement, her eyes shining recollection. “Handsome,” she declared, then blushed at her own boldness.

“Oh, he is indeed!” Edana agreed, the pair collapsing into giggles. “Have you ever glimpsed such a finely wrought man? And noble!”

Brigid nodded happy agreement.

“There is a man who could steal my heart away and be welcome to it,” Edana concluded with a sigh.

Brigid sighed dreamily, but Alys frowned. “I do not understand. How can it be that he was here and I did not know it?”

The pair sobered and stared back at Alys, Brigid reaching suddenly to grasp the comb from Edana’s busy fingers. She held it out toward Alys, the missing tooth glaring in its absence.

This was not an ornate comb, but one carved simply of wood. Its virtue in working Brigid’s tresses lay solely in how frequently it had been used and how smooth the wood had been worn.

“N-n-naughty Alys,” she whispered, her eyes filled with sympathy as she shook the comb.

And Alys gasped.

’Twas only too easy to recall how Brigid had come by the comb. Alys had inadvertently broken that tooth when this had been Aunt’s comb. This was the broken treasure that had precipitated Alys’s first beating, the crime at the root of Heloise’s fit and the event that had cast the entire keep into chaos. Alys had forgotten naught of the terror of that night, no less of the challenge of moving Heloise to her hut and tending that woman’s recovery for weeks afterward.

But she had forgotten precisely
when
the deed occurred.

Two years past, in the spring. And ’twas then—according to Brigid—that Burke came again to Kiltorren’s gates.

God in heaven, he had
not
lied.

Alys could not summon a breath.

Aunt had soon afterward discarded the purportedly prized comb, Alys recalled. Brigid had found it among the refuse in the kitchen and, with her usual compassion for all objects and small creatures, could not bear to see it cast away for lack of a tooth.

Brigid was always taking the smallest things to heart, retrieving a wilted flower discarded in the garden, setting a beached mollusk back into the waves that it might swim away, saving the pebble that lodged in her shoe in the belief
that it desired to come home with her. ’Twas an endearing trait, and a mark of the sweet simplicity of her nature.

And she had liked the knight
both
times.

But why had Burke abandoned Kiltorren so quickly on that visit? If he truly returned to sweep Alys away, would he have taken nay for an answer so readily? Would he not have stormed the keep, scoured the countryside, and sought her out?

Would Aunt not have willingly pointed him to Alys, if only to be rid of her ward?

But what if Burke were right? What if Aunt had lied, both to her and to him, against all expectation? Could he be right in his belief that there was more to Aunt’s animosity than Alys knew?

Deirdre had lain awake half the night, planning her strategy, and by morning she had concocted a scheme that she was certain could not fail. Indeed, once her annoyance eased with her defiant niece, she knew precisely what must be done.

Alys was weak when it came to this knight’s company, and clearly not even a beating could encourage the girl to avoid his company. But Alys must be kept from Burke’s side if Malvina was to succeed. Fortunately, the knight had already shown that he could be manipulated by his particular weakness.

Deirdre dressed with particular care, lingering in her chamber to be certain that she would make an entrance. She swept down the stairs and smiled to find her daughters and ward breaking their fast together.

Perfect.

“Cronan!” Deirdre called. “Perhaps you might summon our guest and ensure that he does not miss our repast.” Alys smiled in anticipation as the steward bowed and left upon the errand, though Deirdre knew that smile would not endure long.

She would ensure as much. Alys would learn not to trifle with Deirdre, one way or the other.

“Good morning, Mother!” Malvina said. Deirdre spared a kiss for her eldest, delighted with the richness of the girl’s garb. “I trust you slept well. I slept with the angels last eve, with Burke’s sweet pledges ringing in my ears.”

Deirdre could not stifle her smile of victory. How she loved when Malvina followed her bidding. Alys’s lips tightened and she seemed suddenly very interested in her crust of bread.

Deirdre took her seat at the board with a majestic flourish. “What pledges, my darling?”

“Oh, Mother, ’twas marvelous. I swear the man spends all the day thinking only of how to court me better.” Malvina smiled at her companions and Alys’s expression turned grim.

“Do tell,” Deirdre urged.

“Why, yesterday morn—after you departed, Alys—Burke summoned me to the stables to steal a kiss. He made some excuse about the temper of his steed to catch me in his arms!” Malvina sighed. “He looked deeply into my eyes and insisted he loved me alone, then he kissed me with an ardor that left me breathless …”

Alys spread honey upon her bread with a purpose the task did not require.

“ ’Tis not how you t-t-told it before,” Brigid said irritably.

Deirdre glanced up in surprise. “And what would you know of the matter?” she asked. “You were not there!”

“The t-t-tale changes with each t-t-telling,” Brigid insisted.

Malvina grimaced. “You are jealous, ’tis no more than that. You know that Burke favors me and we shall be wed. He told me that I and I alone held his heart.”

“N-n-nay. He d-d-did not.” Brigid looked mutinous. “He w-w-would not.”

“You know naught of him!” Malvina cried, bounding to her feet. “I am the one he courts. I am the one he will wed! You should have heard his ardor! Once he had gathered me close,
smiled down upon me, and whispered his pledge of undying love, he kissed me with a passion that made me shiver.”

“He d-d-did not the l-l-last time,” Brigid muttered.

Malvina spun. “Do you call me a liar?”

Brigid lifted her chin with rare defiance. “Aye.”

Malvina’s eyes flashed. “You wish only that Burke had eyes for you, but he does not, for you are naught but a little mouse. The man sees quality and desires me alone. Mother says as much.”

“Yet he grows ever more passionate in each telling of the tale,” Alys said in defense of her younger cousin. “One must wonder whether the truth was not ardent enough.”

“One must wonder whether there are other maidens with eyes above their station,” Deirdre interjected coolly. Brigid flushed and stared at her hands. Alys colored similarly, but she squared her shoulders and did not drop her gaze.

Malvina drew herself to her full height. “You will regret that impertinence! You will not even be welcome at the wedding. I will never welcome either of you at my gates, once I am Lady of Montvieux!”

And the knight of Montvieux, at that crucial moment, set foot into the hall. Deirdre watched his expression change from delight to dismay, his gaze moving from Alys to Malvina as he belatedly understood what was said.

Deirdre rose smoothly to her feet. “And here is none other than the man whom we discuss,” she purred. “Do join us, Burke. We are having a most lively discussion of your courtship of Malvina.”

The knight swallowed and looked somewhat discomfited. “My courtship?” His gaze flew to Alys once more and he did not hasten to the board. ’Twas unlike him not to be supremely confident! Deirdre knew she had not forced this exchange a moment too soon.

“Aye.” Deirdre feigned surprise. “Surely I have not misunderstood your intent to win my eldest daughter’s kind?”

Cedric descended the staircase just then and his voice boomed across the hall. “Surely you do not toy with the affections of my child?” He frowned in a most ferocious manner, and Deirdre decided she must reward him for his unwitting aid.

“Do your kisses mean naught?” Malvina demanded. “And your pledges of undying love?”

Burke looked between the three of them, his manner that of a cornered cat. “I certainly would not intend to deceive anyone …” he began, but Cedric took a menacing step forward.

“Declare yourself, sir, and do so now. You cannot linger within this hall and persist in kissing my daughter without making an honorable offer for her hand.”

“But I did not kiss her!”

“Oh, he lies!” Malvina charged. She raised a hand to her mouth, as if she would weep, her lips trembling dangerously. “Father, he toys with my affections!”

“Say ’tis not so!” Deirdre demanded.

“Aye, state your intentions for my daughter’s hand!” echoed Cedric. “Or I shall turn you out of this keep and set the dogs at your heels until you are run clear from Ireland. Did you lie about coming to Kiltorren to seek a bride?”

Burke’s brow furrowed. “Nay, of course not!”

Cedric folded his arms across his chest. “We have dallied enough and you have had time enough to confirm your choice. Name your bride and name her now.”

The knight, tellingly, looked to Alys.

“Do tell, Burke,” Alys urged, her tone tempered with steel.

’Twas clear the man won no favor in that corner.

Burke frowned, he looked to Cedric, he glanced at Malvina, then his gaze locked with Deirdre’s. She certainly did not imagine how his eyes turned a frosty silver or how his jaw set, before he turned to Cedric with a smile.

“Of course I court Malvina,” he said flatly. “You guessed aright from the start.”

Cedric grinned, then stepped forward to shake the knight’s hand. Malvina gave a cry of delight and launched herself across the hall to embrace the knight. Brigid pouted, but Deirdre smiled yet again when Alys pushed away from the board and strode from the hall, her chin held high.

The knight looked after her for but a moment before Malvina dragged him toward the board. “We must plan our nuptials in grand detail,” she enthused. “But first, a betrothal ceremony. We shall have to invite everyone of our acquaintance and Father will host a wondrous meal. Perhaps we should have tournaments and you could compete with my colors …”

Alys and Brigid sat glumly in Kiltorren’s garden, which flourished in a small courtyard attached to the kitchen. Neither of them had borne Malvina’s planning long, though in the silence of the garden, Alys had naught to do but think about all Burke had said. She watched Brigid embroider a band destined for a hem or cuff and hated that the knight had fooled her again.

“He d-d-did not say it,” Brigid repeated. “And he d-d-did not kiss her.”

“Maybe not,” Alys said, then studied her cousin as an unwelcome thought struck her. “Does it matter to you, Brigid, if Burke courts Malvina?”

Her cousin’s scarlet flush was all the answer Alys needed.

Brigid busied herself with her embroidery, her cheeks burning, as Alys stared at her. ’Twas one thing for Burke to toy with her, but Brigid had no means to defend herself against the man’s allure.

Surely he would not take advantage of Brigid’s innocence?

A man cleared his throat just then and Alys’s head snapped
up. Burke himself leaned in the portal, his arms folded across his chest, his expression bemused. There was a determined glint in his eye, though, that warned Alys to meant to see something done this day.

“I have been searching for you,” he said softly.

“Malvina and Aunt will not approve.” Alys rose to her feet and placed herself between the knight and her trusting cousin before she even realized that she did as much. Burke took a step into the garden, his gaze running appreciatively over her. Alys straightened at his obvious approval.

“ ’Tis not the best hue for you, but we shall do better in Paris,” he said with an easy smile that rankled.