Love's Magic (21 page)

Celestia sipped her wine and wondered why she felt such a ridiculous sense of pride in her position as the lady of the keep.

The spitted buck was juicy perfection, but she hadn’t done it. Bess and Viola had found some wild watercress growing by the stream, which she’d washed and tossed with oil and vinegar while they boiled and mashed some turnips. The single bottle of sweet white wine from Montehue Manor had been opened, as well as the cask of burgundy from the baron.

She sipped again, feeling magnanimous enough to admit that the bread and jam were a perfect addition to the first real supper at Falcon Keep in what she’d calculated to be over twenty years.

Celestia eyed the long table, which was actually the back of the wagon settled on the three stumps from the back of the courtyard and draped with a fine linen cloth. Her family’s gift of silver and gold plates adorned the top, with golden goblets shining in the candlelight. She smiled. Perhaps it wouldn’t be up to her parents’ standards, but it wasn’t bad, considering what she had to work with.

She tilted her head to the left in order to get a better view of Nicholas. He was eating, and flirting uneasily with their beautiful guest. Nicholas was not Lord Riddleton, and she could tell that he was merely being polite. Celestia couldn’t blame him, she supposed, but it rankled.

Tightening her grasp on the goblet so that she didn’t throw it at Maude’s dark ringlets, her heart ached at more evidence of Nicholas’s kindness. For a man who did more brooding than a pregnant woman, he was the very ideal of knighthood.

His valor in coming to her defense today had only deepened her love; he was a man of honor, temperate in food and drink. He worked as hard, if not harder, than the other men. And he was so very handsome. Her pulse jumped in her throat as she watched him lick a piece of meat from his thumb. She narrowed her eyes, irritated, as she saw Maude flutter her lashes.

Celestia had never backed down from a challenge, and facing a woman who had no qualms over acting the flirt with a man, in front of his wife made her angry enough to scream.

She’d taken the time to wash and change before eating. She’d brushed her hair out, and it fell to her hips in waves once released from the tight braids she’d worn. Pinching her cheeks, powdering her nose, these were all things that Galiana would make her do. She’d even applied her favorite perfume.

No one had been more surprised than she to find out that she was feminine enough to want to compete with Maude, the fair-faced beauty, for her husband’s attention.

Picking her favorite blue kirtle and her low-heeled embroidered slippers, she added ear bobs of blue sapphire, which glittered against her hair. A matching ring with a huge stone flashed upon her finger. She had done her best, but her husband had barely glanced her way. He was too busy staying away from Maude’s quick fingers.

She sighed and popped a candied almond in her mouth.

Nicholas was saying, “Ah, it was so long ago, I hardly remember a thing.”

Grainne Kat asked, “What about your mother? Do you remember her?”

Nicholas drank deep from his goblet. “Nay.” He changed the subject. “I am most curious as to what happened to the people here. The north tower has been boarded and mortared, and the rest of the keep reeks of neglect.”

“Well, now.” Grainne sucked her rotten teeth. “After your mother died, and the peasants realized that no one was coming to govern them, they stole most everything. Between them and the raiding Scots’ border patrol, this shell is all that is left.” She waved a hand to indicate the mostly barren interior. “It used to be grand, you know. Your mother’s family lived here, afore she married the baron.” Coughing, she added darkly, “He wasn’t a baron, then, though, was he?”

“Did you work here at the keep, Grainne Kat?”

Celestia detected the woman’s slight hesitation before she laughed. “Me? Nay, Lord Nicholas. I am but a simple woman who knew your mother. Half-English, half-Scot she was, and all alone here amongst the Scottish folk who considered her a traitor—with the exception of yourself, and you were just a babe.”

Celestia didn’t care for the crone’s ingratiating laugh. In truth, that laugh was alarming.

“And if it’s workers that ye need, why I’ve got two for ya, right here,” she said, pointing her gnarled finger to her children. “There’s a small English town along the border, a day’s ride to the west, where ye can find more. By my reckoning, them that wasn’t killed by the raiding Scots fled to the village there.”

“What have ye heard of a rebellion? And the Norsemen, are they as fierce as rumor says?” Petyr leaned forward, trying to keep Maude’s attention on him. “We’re far enough inland from Solway Firth that I don’t see this keep as being pivotal to the enemy.”

Joseph spoke up behind a hunk of meat, “Aye! The raiders are bad men … when you hear the thunder of hooves, you must hide. But we live deep in the woods, deep. I can see them, but they can’t find me.”

Grainne Kat cackled and tapped his hand. “Oh, Joseph, no sense being maudlin. We’ve had a good life, haven’t we?” She spoke to Nicholas, “My boy’s a wonder at hunting the small animals in the forest, a fine touch with curing the skins to sell at the village on fair days. We get by, we get by.”

Nicholas posed a question as he crumbled a piece of bread, “Why did the peasants leave the place fallow? It’s obvious that they’d worked hard to clear the area for grazing the sheep and growing crops. What happened to the mill and the stream? It seems odd that they left it, rather than wait for the baron to send more men after my mother died.”

Nicholas tossed the crust to the table, confusion clearly writ upon his face. “Why would they abandon their homes? Could they not defend themselves against the Scots?”

It was about time he started asking questions, Celestia thought. Mayhap he’d stay, if he could but remember.

Joseph tore a large bite of meat off the bone, chewed, and gulped. “I’ll tell ya why. It’s haunted, this place. I’ve got me charm against spirits, I do, so none can bother me. But everyone else left ‘cause of the screaming from the north tower.”

This time Grainne’s tap was more of a smack. She made an apologetic sound, and looked down at her plate. “He’s not right in the head, mind, not bad, like, but not … right.”

Celestia straightened and discreetly looked Joseph over. Her abilities to heal did not include the mentally deficient, but she’d not sensed anything off about him. He was a big man, and tall. His eyes were not as bright as the sparkling orbs of his sibling, yet he seemed intelligent.

“The north tower? It’s haunted?”

Maude giggled instead of answering Celestia’s question and dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “Be good, Joey, and remember, we don’t talk about ghosts.” Her eyes danced encouragingly at each of the men around the table.

Joseph nodded his dark head. “Hail Mary and alleluia! There are
no
ghosts.”

Goose bumps rose on Celestia’s skin. It was no wonder that the crone did most of the talking, with her son a good-natured simpleton and her daughter a flirt. She rubbed her arms. She was a firm believer in ghosts and spirits, having befriended them all her life. For the most part, they were harmless.

Petyr raised his glass in an obvious effort to divert the turn of conversation. “A toast!”

Celestia picked up her goblet, as did everyone else.

“Here’s to good health and good fortune, and to the new lord and lady of Falcon Keep.”

Bess giggled from too much wine and stood. “As a gift for the both of you, we’ve readied the master’s chambers. For the first time since your wedding night, you will have a feather mattress and some privacy!”

Viola laughed aloud before clamping her hand over her mouth, and Celestia found her gaze drawn to her husband once again. Her eyes, she was certain, would never look at anything else, if left to their own accord. Would he think she had, once again, deliberately arranged to seduce him?

His surprise was fleeting and was gone before she was certain it had ever been there. He stood and bowed like the chivalrous knight he had been trained to be. Smiling, he met her eyes and said, “Now
that
is a reason to drain your cup!”

Maude chose not to drink to that and tipped her goblet over, “accidentally,” Celestia was sure, drawing all attention to her.

“Oh! How clumsy of me!” Maude pouted prettily as she got to her feet, rubbing the spill of white wine farther into her tunic. “Oh, dear, ‘tis ruined.”

Celestia bit her tongue to keep from calling the wanton chit horrible names. Maude’s breast was clearly outlined beneath the wet fabric, and the more she rubbed it, the perkier her nipple became. Celestia looked around the table, and the only male eye not watching the show belonged to Joseph, the wench’s brother.

Mustering her dignity, Celestia stood to her full height, and jerked the sopping linen, clanging the platters and plates together. “Quite right, it
is
ruined. This cloth came down from my mother’s family—however am I to get the stain out?”

Viola choked on a laugh, and Grainne recovered her wits as the sensual web was broken. “Cover yourself, girl.” She immediately draped her own shawl over her daughter’s shoulders. “The hour is late, and we must be getting home.”

Nicholas cleared his throat, reminding Celestia of her manners. Since when had she needed so many reminders?

She smiled while glaring at Nicholas. Did he find Maude attractive? In her duty as chatelaine, she couldn’t refuse hospitality, no matter how jealous she was. “It is late, and while I cannot offer you a
bed,”
she defiantly met her husband’s eyes, “we have blankets aplenty if you’d care to sleep here in the hall by the fire.”

Maude shot her a look of venom as Grainne held her daughter by the elbow. “Thank you kindly, my lady, but we’d know our way through these woods blindfolded. We will come again, and if I hear of anyone looking for work, I will gladly send them this way.”

Celestia bobbed her head, noting that the old woman didn’t offer her children’s services again.

“Henry, fix them a torch, won’t you, for the walk home?” Nicholas edged them toward the back door as he thanked them for visiting.

Once the trio left, the rest of the party sat back down at the table. Willy, the youngest of the knights, chewed a slice of dried apple. “Pretty maid, weren’t she?”

Forrester nodded, Petyr blushed, and Henry said knowingly, “She may be pretty, but I warrant she’s the kind that leaves a man bleeding on the floor when she’s through with ‘im!”

Sir Geoffrey coughed and gave the knights a pointed look to mind their tongues. The older and wiser knight continued loyally, “Aye, but she weren’t half as fine to look upon as our own Lady Celestia.”

Celestia blushed as the men all hurriedly agreed. Forrester hastened to add, “The lovliest lady ever, that’s the Lady Celestia.”

Bertram sighed and drained his ale. “We cannot forget the lovely Viola.”

“Or the beauteous Bess,” Willy said.

Bess asked, “All chivalry aside, my dear knights, but have you ever met an
ugly
woman in the dark?”

Holding her stomach from laughing so hard, Celestia said, “Stop, before I fall off the bench.” She placed her hands on the rickety table.

The table was cleared, the fire was banked, and it was time for bed. Celestia had never known such an awkward moment, and from the way that Nicholas was shifting from foot to foot, he felt the same.

Petyr stood and stretched. “I’m exhausted, but what a day, eh?”

Willy yawned. “Nice buck, nice meal.”

Bess set her embroidery hoop to the floor. “Will you need me help, my lady, readying for bed? Viola and I took the chamber down the hall, if ye need us.”

The men slept in the great room, and she had to leave if they were to sleep. She was being ordered to bed by her maid. Celestia slowly got to her feet, finding Nicholas behind her, ready to take her arm. This was strange and ridiculous, she thought as she murmured, “I’ll be fine this eve, thank you,” with a dry throat.

She bid everyone a good night and led the way up the stairs on shaking legs into the cleaned chamber. Her eyes focused on the brightly made bed, and her knees buckled.

Candles perfumed the room and gave off a romantic glow. He’d think she was seducing him, for certes.

Nicholas steadied her, his hand confident beneath her arm.

“My lady?”

She swallowed. “I …” she gulped. “I didn’t put the girls up to this, Nicholas.”

“I can see that.”

“Yet,” she managed to whisper, “‘tis lovely.”

He released her arm and sighed, then poured them each some water from a cool jug. “I’m nervous as any bridegroom.”

Celestia accepted the goblet with trembling fingers, wishing they’d not run out of wine, and sat on the edge of the bed. “Bridegroom?” Her voice cracked. “Do you mean to sleep with me after all?”

Nicholas coughed, his brow furrowed. “I was but referring to the circumstances, nothing more.”

“Oh.” Celestia damned her flaming cheeks. “Nicholas, I … I am mortified beyond reason, so I might as well forge ahead and ask.” She knew he could think her stupid, or foolish, but she had to take the chance. “Have you considered making me your wife in truth?”

Nicholas sank to his knees and clasped Celestia’s hands between his. He rested his forehead on her knees, and her pulse beat so rapidly she wondered how she could survive it.

Was he gathering his courage to break her heart? She couldn’t stop her hand from caressing his ebony hair as another crack formed in her heart. “‘Tis all right, Nicholas, you don’t need to explain.”

He looked up, and all of the despair she had ever sensed in him was there in his gaze. “I must. I have feelings for you that I thought were long dead and buried, yet you have resurrected them. You, Celestia, have come between me and my desire for vengeance.”

“Vengeance? I thought you wanted absolution, from Saint James.”

“My pilgrimage to Spain and Saint James involves more than my begging forgiveness.”

“For killing that woman, when she had been torturing you?” She caressed a lock of hair off his forehead. “Would be that I could take my poisons to her and make her suffer, but she is dead, and she deserved to die.”