Love Letters (2 page)

Chapter Three

Catheryn blushed heatedly. She could feel her cheeks burning, and she increased her pace to put more distance between herself and Selwyn.

She could not believe what she had just done! True, the arrival of Selwyn after all of those years away had quickened many a woman’s heart, but Catheryn had only felt awkwardness. It was like seeing a child in a mirror that was distorted. There was so much the same in him, and yet the person that ate in the Great Hall every night was not someone that she knew. She had…a slight awareness of the intense masculinity that Selwyn lent to every room, but Catheryn had tried to ignore it. He was Selwyn, and now he was only a steward. They had barely spoken more than two words together in all of the time that they had lived underneath the same roof since he returned from her aunt’s house. In all honesty, Catheryn barely knew him anymore.

So what on earth had possessed her to give him a look like that – a look that she knew women gave to men that they had every intention of seeing naked that night! Her cheeks flamed again. Catheryn stopped walking; her feet had taken her, unbidden, to her chamber. She sank down onto her bed, and shut her eyes. If she could just lie here, eyes shut, perhaps she and everyone else would forget that it had ever happened.

Selwyn was still standing outside, and he burned all over. He was sure that his face was red, because he could feel the heat pour out of his skin. That woman! And he could definitely describe her as a woman now, for that was a womanly trick and one that a child would not have known, let alone used. That flirtatious glance would have felled a lesser man, he told himself, but he knew her for what she really was – a bored flirt that would rather lounge about all day than work. Catheryn didn’t know what it was to feel the plough beneath her hand, to feel the callus on your hand, to burn as the sun shone down on you.

When they were children, they had never talked about the future. Being a grown-up wasn’t something that either of them looked forward to, and it had never seemed important. And now the distance between them was so great, there seemed no way to cross it.

Ælfgard had continued talking, and Selwyn was relieved to see that none of the thanes had noticed Catheryn’s mischievous glance, or his primal reaction to it. They continued to walk back into the house the way that Catheryn had gone, but they went into the Great Hall where a loud argument could be heard. Selwyn sighed. Was this chaos ever to end?

“For the last time, it is no dishonour to be amongst other great musicians!”

Hilda’s voice could barely be heard over the din, but hers was the most anxious and upset. There was a strain in it that was close to breaking point. Selwyn rushed forward to his lady’s side, preparing himself for the chaos.

“My lady Hilda, would you like me to continue this conversation whilst you retire for some refreshment?” Selwyn said gently, as his eyes took in the harassed look in her eyes, and the mutinous look of the musicians.

Ælfgard took her gently by the arm. “Come, my dear, I was just about to finalise the feast plans in the kitchens. Come and taste some of the food with me.”

“But I really must stay, you know,” Hilda babbled as she was led away by Ælfgard, “I’m needed here, you know…”

Selwyn, the three musicians, and the thanes could hear her muttering for a few moments, and then the thick walls deadened the sound. More than one man breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now they’re gone, we can finally have some peace around here,” Deorwine said, with an unbecoming scowl on his face. “Care for Nine Men’s Morris, anyone?”

Selwyn watched as the five thanes settled themselves around the Great Hall. The youngest, Harold, tried to join them, but they pushed him away, and he left the Great Hall in a sulk. They prepared the board for their game, the fire in the centre burning quietly in preparation for the evening’s entertainment. A gaggle of servants rushed past, barely controlled panic in their voices as they went. It didn’t seem to concern the thanes that everyone else in the house was rushing around, trying to prepare the best feast and entertainment possible for the King of England; they were, as usual, more concerned about their more immediate entertainment – and whether a mug of ale was within easy reach.

“And Selwyn?” called another of the thanes, noticing the empty table. “Bring us some ale.”

Selwyn bristled in anger. “I am not your servant,” he said curtly. “Fetch one, or fetch the ale yourself.”

Ignoring the outraged cries of the thanes that he had once again been unable to stop himself insulting, he gestured for the three musicians to follow him out of the Great Hall, where they could speak properly, without stupidity interrupting them.

It took fewer than five minutes to hear their complaints, and less than two to reassure them of their eminent position within the proceedings. After promising them a special introduction to the royal couple, and the potential promise of further patronage by Ælfgard in the future, he sent them back to the chamber which they had been given to practice.

Alone finally with his own time, and able to hear his own voice without shouting, Selwyn repaired back to his small chamber, and threw himself into his chair.

Selwyn closed his eyes, but still he could see her. As clearly as he could feel the soft fur draped across the chair with his fingertips, he could see her. Catheryn’s smile, the way that she looked back at him in that mocking way. She must know how beautiful she is, she must know how dangerous that smile is when she shoots it at unsuspecting men, Selwyn thought.

Selwyn clenched his fists and tried to rid his memory of that piercing glance. Catheryn, he reminded himself, is bored. She is playing with you, using you as part of her daily entertainment. She’s probably laughing about you right now with Eorwine, a woman with more girth than sense.

Selwyn sighed. He missed the old Catheryn; the one that would have laughed at all of the chaos now seeping through the house, and probably would have been too interested in playing a trick on someone than choosing a dress to wear that evening, as she undoubtedly was.

Catheryn couldn’t just play with people like that – for all she knew, Selwyn laughed despite himself, he actually liked her! And I know just how to confuse her, he thought to himself. He know just how to bring back the Catheryn that he knew.

Selwyn attempted to push down the prickles of his conscience. In his mind’s eye, he could still see a Catheryn from a few years ago – a more innocent Catheryn that would blush whenever he smiled at her, and saw nothing wrong with fighting with him if they disagreed. But that Catheryn was a mere memory – and this new woman was a complete stranger to him. His idea wouldn’t hurt anyone, Selwyn reasoned. Not really.

The feast was, to the relief of the majority of the room, a success. Every plate of food was delicious and set upon by the many guests from the royal court, acting as if they had not had full stomachs in weeks – which, if you believed the rumours about the royal court, could very well be true. The queen herself had sent her compliments to Hilda over the delicate roasting of the chicken. The decorations around the Great Hall had been designed to complement the current favourite colour of the court – regal purple – and the fire at the centre of the Hall cast a glowing light upon all.

The majority of the eating had been done, although the dogs that walked around the tables were still being denied their scraps. Languid laughs now filled the air as goblets were once again raised to lips, and Ælfgard leaned over to speak to his king once again.

Selwyn stood, and although some of the thanes of the house tried resolutely to continue talking, eventually a hush came down and all eyes looked at him.

Catheryn played idly with a piece of bread that she was using to mop up some of the delicious juices still lying on her plate. Raising her disinterested eyes, she saw that one of her father’s men was about to speak. Looking over, she saw that it was Selwyn – and she coloured to remember her flirtatious moment earlier that day. Such an immodest act would typically have been followed by punishment, but as none had arrived she had to assume that he had not mentioned her breach of propriety to her parents. Strange.

Catheryn blinked, and realised that she had been staring absent-mindedly at Selwyn for several minutes. She started listening to what he was saying.

“…And so it is my great honour, majesty, to introduce them to you now as they entertain us with their great gifts.”

Selwyn sat down as the musicians eagerly rose. It was difficult in their profession to find any chances of playing to the royal court, especially as King Edward became more and more monk-like, and to do so during the king’s attendance was an event not likely to be repeated for many years. They had to be at their best.

Selwyn saw with satisfaction that their petty arguments had been forgotten, and they had thankfully been practising. The three men intertwined their melodies on the harps that were their trade, and were almost the most highly decorated objects in the room, delicately carved and covered in gold leaf. The popular saga that they began to play was received with cheers that died down almost immediately as the crowd eagerly listened to a story they already knew. But then, the best tales to hear are the ones that you can follow from your childhood.

The tale of Apollonius of Tyre was one that everyone in the room knew, but each telling was slightly different depending on the musician that wove the story. Apollonius becomes a marked man after accidently revealing that his king has been having an incestuous relationship with his own daughter. He has to undergo many adventures, often separated from his beloved wife and daughter, but he is always sure in himself that he is in the right. The eventual reunion of his family celebrates the goodness of love, and the ability of love to triumph over all. It was a popular song at the moment, especially during the uncertainty over the royal succession. The queen was past child-bearing age, and no heir had appeared.

Catheryn loved music, and she listened eagerly to the careful melodies that the musicians drew close to, weaving in and out of harmonies that her ear could just make out. She turned to the queen, who was seated beside her, and saw with a shock that the royal lady’s eyes were full of tears.

“My lady queen,” Catheryn said awkwardly, not accustomed to conversing with members of the royal family, and not entirely sure how one was supposed to speak, “does something ail you? Can I fetch you wine, or something to settle you – or one of your ladies or servants?”

Queen Emma smiled at the young woman beside her, and elegantly passed her sleeve across her face to dry her tears without catching the attention of the entire room.

“Thank you, my lady Catheryn,” she said, “but I am quite well, I assure you.”

Catheryn was more surprised that the queen knew her name than the fact that she was allowing herself to cry in public, but did not want to question her further.

“It is a beautiful tale,” Catheryn said, trying to return to a vague semblance of normal conversation. “I know little of love, but it is certainly a desperately powerful thing.”

The queen smiled, though her eyes watered. “Have you loved?”

Catheryn shook her head with a smile. “Not I, my lady queen. I am but seventeen years, and there has not been anyone…suitable.”

Tears spilled over as Queen Emma smiled again. “When you do, recognise it for what it is. It is a precious thing, and you will be foolish to lose it, or allow it to escape you.”

Catheryn opened her mouth to reply, although exactly what she was going to say, she did not quite know. The queen raised a hand to stop her.

“Let us listen,” she said quietly, and turned her head.

Catheryn nodded, and allowed her attention to return to the music.

Across the Great Hall, Selwyn smiled. It was a story of love amongst equals, and passion amongst lovers, and it was his favourite. He looked around the room anxiously to make sure that King Edward was also enjoying himself – it was well-known that the king often preferred more religious tales, or even prayerful silence. But he sighed with relief; the king was smiling, and so was his lord. The evening was a complete success, and as soon as the royal court left the next morning, normal life could resume.

And now that his official duties were over, it was time for him to put his own plan into action. Selwyn reached up a hand at a certain angle, and immediately a servant came over to him.

“Your orders?” He whispered, careful not to disturb the others, who were still captivated by the music.

“Take this,” Selwyn replied in a low voice, “and take it to my lady Catheryn. I have been asked to deliver it by a thane of this household, but I must remain here to care for the musicians.”

His eyes rolled, and the servant nodded. The irritability of the musicians was now common knowledge around the household. Selwyn handed over to the servant a small piece of folded parchment. If the servant was surprised by this rather bizarre request, his years of training and respect for Selwyn forced him to keep it to himself.

“Immediately,” was his only reply.

Selwyn tried not to watch the progress of the servant as he made his way around the room. The tables were, as normal, placed in a square around the fire, with the seating benches placed on the outside so that all faced inwards. He was grateful that he was not on a side facing the host family, otherwise he was sure that Catheryn would notice the blush creeping unbidden across his face – or someone else certainly would.