Serpent (14 page)

William gave up the fight; too much in him was uncertain right now. “I will believe you,” he said. “But I am taking Penelope to bed now. I am sure you understand.”

Bhrodi nodded, taking a step or two towards William and Penelope, his gaze moving between the two of them. “Then may we discuss the contract on the morrow?” he asked
hopefully. “I would very much like to.”

William looked at his daughter; for once, he would give her the final word. It was her future, after all. Perhaps she needed to make the ultimate decision.

Penelope met her father’s gaze, seeing sadness and hope and sorrow and adoration in it. She knew what he was feeling; it was written all over his face.
Perhaps I do not want you to go, after all.
But Penelope wasn’t of that mindset; the conversation with de Shera had opened her eyes to a great many things. He was arrogant, that was true, but he was also humorous and protective and loyal. She liked those qualities. She could envision herself tolerating such a husband and perhaps more; perhaps she would even be fond of him someday. Nay, she wasn’t opposed to the marriage contract in the least.

“We will discuss it,” she said to her father, then looked at Bhrodi. “I must take my father to bed now. He has had a very
eventful night and needs his rest.”

Bhrodi grinned, noticing that a few of the English knights were grinning, too, but they quickly sobered when
they realized de Shera was looking at them. Silently, the English wandered down the steps of the keep, leaving Bhrodi standing on the entry landing, watching about twenty Saesneg knights filter back towards their encampment.

His gaze never left the small woman in the center of the pack as she clung to her father; the affection between them was obvious.
Seeing that she was capable of such affection gave him hope that someday, perhaps he would know such warmth from her. Perhaps he would know happiness again.

It had been a very eventful night, indeed.

⌘

Penelope was squirming so much that her mother jabbed her with an iron pin for the tenth time that morning. This time, it was in the thigh and Penelope howled.

“Mamma!” she cried, rubbing her stung leg. “You keep spearing me!”

Jordan was at the end of her patience with her wriggly daughter. “If ye stood still, I wouldna stick ye,” she scolded. “For the love of God, Penny, stand still or we shall never be done with this!”

In one of the two top floor chambers of Rhydilian’s keep, Jordan, Jemma, and Penelope were spread out all over the room
. Trunks had been brought up from the tents and the chamber, once cold and dusty, had been cleaned and swept by Welsh servants to provide a suitable living space for the family of de Shera’s betrothed.

A fire burned in the hearth and there were comfortable furnishings. It was a cozy chamber indeed
, although the second chamber on the same floor was still one that had gone undisturbed. It still held bloodied linens and things from two years ago, not touched since then. Although Bhrodi had been willing to put Penelope on the top floor, he was still unwilling to disturb the indisturbable chamber. It sat, cold and silent still.

The past two days had seen some progress, however, on the marital front.
After forty-eight hours of negotiations, of William laying down his boundaries for Penelope’s dowry and of Bhrodi declaring he wasn’t so interested in her money as he was in additional manpower as part of the bargain, it had been two solid days and nights of bartering until both parties were satisfied with the outcome. It was then, and only then, that Bhrodi opened up the entire upper floor of the keep for his future wife and her kin. Now, the real preparations began in earnest and messengers were sent out with invitations and announcements to local chieftains.

While William, Paris, Scott, and
Troy slept off the effects of the marathon bargaining session they had all participated in to varying degrees, the rest of the English camp was preparing for a wedding. Bhrodi, after about an hour’s worth of sleep, took several of his men and three of Penelope’s brothers on a hunting expedition to provide meat for the wedding feast while others in the English contingent polished armor and made other preparations. Bhrodi’s men, for the most part, went about their usual duties while servants made ready the hall for the festivities. The priest was expected on the morrow and a great wedding would take place. Rhydilian had not seen so much activity in years. The old fortress in the heart of the Pendraeth Forest was alive once again. There was hope in the air.

But Penelope wasn’t happy with the dress her mother had brought for her, one that was too small in the bust
line and too narrow in the hips. It had been Jordan’s wedding dress, in fact, a beautiful garment of pale ivory silk embroidered with gold thread around the cuff of the sleeves, the hem of the full skirt, and around the neckline. Jordan and Jemma had been trying to fit it to Penelope’s curvy figure but Penelope had no patience for such things. She hated surcoats, shifts, corsets, delicate shoes, and anything else feminine, so it was a struggle for her to be patient through all of it.

When Jordan finally finished pinning and peeled the garment from Penelope’s body, the girl, clad only in a shift and hose, threw herself onto the nearest bed while Jordan and Jemma
sat down next to one another and continued working on the alterations together. Penelope was fidgety and bored, a bad combination.

“I wanted to go hunting,”
she said wistfully, her gaze moving to the lancet window and the bright blue sky beyond. It was a cool day with puffy clouds scattered across the sky. “Do you suppose they have gone anywhere near that marsh?”

Jordan shuddered. “I hope not,” she said. “Yer da said that de Shera told him the beastie had been there for many generations, brought by the Northmen when they sailed these shores.”

“I seem to recall hearing a similar tale of a beastie far to the north of Scotland,” Jemma said, concentrating on the stitches she was making. “I seem to remember me da telling me stories of it. Do ye remember, Jordie? It was a tale of St. Columba and how he vanquished a beastie from the River Ness. Do ye think the beastie came down here to Wales, then? Mayhap he found another home.”

Jordan shrugged as she fixed the stitching on one of the sleeves. “A Scots beastie would never come
tae Wales,” she declared. “The animal has too much taste. He would stay in Scotland.”

Jemma giggled and even Penelope smiled as she looked over at her mother and aunt
. Even at their advanced age, they gossiped and teased as if they were young girls again. She would miss them very much when they returned home and left her here, alone, to face a new future. She tried not to think of the moment when her entire family would leave her.

“
Whatever it is, and
wherever
it is, my sword is still lodged in its eye,” she said, her smile fading. “I want my sword back.”

Jemma’s head snapped up. “Dunna go back to the swamp to get it,” she
warned. “Have de Shera make another one for ye. I wouldna risk me life trying to retrieve something that can be just as easily replaced.”

Penelope sighed, sorrowful at the loss of the sword her father had given her, and returned her attention to the window. She could hear seagulls crying, having come over the mountain from the bay on the other side
. They were riding the drafts and swooping down on potential food in the bailey. As she rolled over onto her belly, there was a knock at the chamber door and she leapt up, moving to open it. It was nearing the nooning hour so she was hoping it was food. Lifting the iron latch, she opened the heavy oak door.

The small corridor outside was dim but her focus immediately found a small, dark-haired girl standing well back from the door
way. Looking at the girl, Penelope immediately realized two things; that there was no food in the girl’s hands and that she had an obviously pregnant belly. She was dressed in simple clothing, leading Penelope to believe it was a servant.

“What is it?”
she asked.

The girl blinked as if startled by the question
. She took a step back as if fearful of Penelope, but then suddenly lifted her hand and thrust a bundle of pale fabric in her direction.

“I… I thought you would like this,” she said, her voice quivering with
fright. “M-my brother said you were getting married and… and… this was my mother’s.”

Penelope
was confused. “Your brother?”

The girl nodded unsteadily. “He said you were his bride.”

Penelope peered more closely at the girl; she was very small and very pregnant, and it began to occur to her who it might be;
my sister is eight months pregnant with her first child.
Realization dawned and, with a start, Penelope came away from the door, turning to her mother.

“Mamma!” she hissed. “Come quickly!”

Jordan was off her chair, scurrying to the door. Penelope, her eyes wide, gestured towards the girl in the corridor. Jordan looked at the young woman curiously and then to Penelope as if expecting more of an explanation as to why she had been called over. Penelope’s gaze lingered on her mother a moment, hesitantly, before returning her attention to the girl.

“
Are you Lord de Shera’s sister, then?” she asked timidly. Since she was so terrible with tact or gentleness, she had called to her mother. She needed help in the face of the nervous and terrified young girl. “He… he told me you that you were here at Rhydilian.”

The girl had backed away nearly to the stairs, looking fearfully between Jordan and Penelope
. The ball of fabric in her hand was still extended.

“Aye,” she whispered. “I have come to… to bring you this. It belonged to my mother.”

Jordan, seeing a child who was very pregnant, tried not to gasp at the sight. She was shocked by it. Being gentle and sweet and motherly by nature, she carefully moved towards the skittish young girl.

“Why, what is it that ye’ve brought us, child?” she asked
, her manner kind and soothing. “What is yer name, lass?”

The young girl wanted to back away but the steps were behind her so, for the moment, she held her ground as Jordan came close.

“Tacey,” she murmured, her voice quaking pitifully. “My name is Tacey. This was my mother’s wedding cap. My brother said I should bring it to you.”

Jordan smiled encouragingly as she reached out, very carefully, and took it from her. She unfurled the wad of silk and pearls. “’Tis beautiful, it is,” she said gently, holding it up to get a look at it. “Have ye been keeping it safe all these years?”

The Lady Tacey de Shera ap Gruffydd nodded, her dark hair flapping down over her dark eyes, but she remained silent and nervous. A tiny woman with bird-like arms and quick movements, Jordan smiled sweetly at her.

“Yer mother would have been very touched
tae see ye take such good care of it,” she said kindly. “Would ye like tae come in and visit with us, lass? Come along, now. Since ye are tae be kin, we would like tae come tae know ye.”

Jordan was able to reach out and grasp the girl gently by her very slender arm. Tacey
, torn between her innate fear of people and the lure of a kind, motherly voice, allowed herself to be directed towards the chamber. She was dragging her feet, however, very timid and nervous. She spent so much of her time alone that being around people terrified her, and being around strangers made her want to faint.

But she permitted Jordan to carefully pull her into the chamber, her eyes darting about fearfully
. When she saw Jemma, she nearly bolted but Jordan held her firm. In fact, she pulled her towards the hearth where they were sewing on the big silk dress.

“We were just sewing Penny’s wedding dress,” she said. “This is
me cousin, Lady Jemma. Do ye sew, lass?”

Tacey didn’t even know what to say; she was being pushed around by a well-meaning woman with a heavy Scots accent
. Jordan gently sat the girl down in a chair that Penelope had pulled up and Jemma was already bending over her, handing her needle and thread.

“Ye can sew the sleeve,” Jemma said in a gentle tone that was much different from her usually-aggressive manner
. She was very good with babies and children. “See how the gold thread has come unwound? Just follow the pattern around the sleeve and re-stitch it. It will be simple.”