his bench
at the head table and tumbled out onto the floor.
“Father.” He ran to him, catching his hand.
“Aye, son?” William tilted his head
down, seeming to look at the boy. “Is everyone seated at the
tables? Am I late?”
“We waited for you. Lady Saura said
you’d had lots of excitement and you might be taking a nap,
but Grandfather said taking a bath is hard work and insisted we
wait. So Lady Saura ordered a soup and we’ve been having some
music. Her harp playing reminds me of the angels. But now
we’re starving!”
“We mustn’t have that. Will you take me
to the table?” He freed his hand from Linne’s arm,
leaned down and whispered, “And make sure I don’t bang
my shins?”
“Aye, sir.” Pleased to have his father
back, too young to be sentimental, Kimball grinned. “I
won’t let you trip. Put your hand in my elbow; you want me to
sit beside you and cut your meat? The quintain only knocked me off
my horse once today and it knocked Clare off four
times—here’s the bench, Father, lift your leg
over—but Grandfather says he’s going to be a great
jouster if he keeps practicing. He’s seven and I told him I
didn’t do as well at seven and he’s not as big as I was
even then but Grandfather says he has a good seat. Here’s
your trencher, feel it?” He took William’s hand and put
it on the rough wooden plate.
“Aye, thank you, Kimball.” A smile
tugged at William’s mouth. “Have you missed
me?”
“Well,” the eight-year-old thought
about that. “Youhaven’t been gone,
exactly. But you didn’t like to hear me talk.”
“I know. I’m sorry, it will not happen
again.” He raised his hand and searched, found the
boy’s face and then his head, and smoothed the tangled hair
back. “But tell me, who is Clare?”
“Why, he’s Lady Saura’s
brother,” Kimball said in astonishment. “He’s
sitting at the end of the head table. He usually shares my
trencher.”
“Her brother?”
“Grandfather had to take him for fostering or
we couldn’t have her. He’s been here all spring with
Lady Saura. She’s nice. She’s been taking care of us,
talking to us and kissing us good night and slopping comfrey salve
on our bruises. Except she forced us to take a spring bath. Did she
have the servants strip you and throw you in, too?”
A tomblike officiousness hushed the table: every
ear strained to hear his answer.
“Nay, son,” William rumbled.
“There are incentives for adults who agree to bathe without
struggling.”
A low chuckle rippled around the trestle tables and
William’s retainers and admirers nodded and murmured to one
another.
He was back. Their lord was back.
“Did you enjoy your incentive?” Lord
Peter asked at William’s left hand.
William smiled pleasantly. “She was a very
accomplished young lass, willing and eager to accommodate her lord.
She had a lovely shape and pleasant breath. She matched almost
perfectly the girl I kissed in the tub.”
The page who was dishing out dropped his wooden
serving spoon and he danced away from the hot soup as it splattered
on the floor. The clank of the wood on the flagstones, thesound of his feet shuffling, the murmur of his apology
reverberated through the great hall as the knowing heads swiveled
from Saura to William and back again.
William, of course, didn’t know who else they
stared at, but he knew he had everyone’s attention as he
continued, “Aye, Father, I am blind. But I’m not
simpleminded. The girl in the bath had an innocent fire no other
woman could duplicate. Her sweet mouth branded me. I don’t
know who she was, or what she was, or why I can’t have her,
but my bathing companion was unforgettable. And until I can put my
hands on her, I’ll not bed a substitute.”
three
“William, you have to stop
kissing the maids.” Saura slapped her leather gloves against
her palm.
The girl in William’s lap slid off, giggling,
as he patted her bottom. “Thank you, dearling, but
you’re not
at the head table and tumbled out onto the floor.
“Father.” He ran to him, catching his hand.
“Aye, son?” William tilted his head
down, seeming to look at the boy. “Is everyone seated at the
tables? Am I late?”
“We waited for you. Lady Saura said
you’d had lots of excitement and you might be taking a nap,
but Grandfather said taking a bath is hard work and insisted we
wait. So Lady Saura ordered a soup and we’ve been having some
music. Her harp playing reminds me of the angels. But now
we’re starving!”
“We mustn’t have that. Will you take me
to the table?” He freed his hand from Linne’s arm,
leaned down and whispered, “And make sure I don’t bang
my shins?”
“Aye, sir.” Pleased to have his father
back, too young to be sentimental, Kimball grinned. “I
won’t let you trip. Put your hand in my elbow; you want me to
sit beside you and cut your meat? The quintain only knocked me off
my horse once today and it knocked Clare off four
times—here’s the bench, Father, lift your leg
over—but Grandfather says he’s going to be a great
jouster if he keeps practicing. He’s seven and I told him I
didn’t do as well at seven and he’s not as big as I was
even then but Grandfather says he has a good seat. Here’s
your trencher, feel it?” He took William’s hand and put
it on the rough wooden plate.
“Aye, thank you, Kimball.” A smile
tugged at William’s mouth. “Have you missed
me?”
“Well,” the eight-year-old thought
about that. “Youhaven’t been gone,
exactly. But you didn’t like to hear me talk.”
“I know. I’m sorry, it will not happen
again.” He raised his hand and searched, found the
boy’s face and then his head, and smoothed the tangled hair
back. “But tell me, who is Clare?”
“Why, he’s Lady Saura’s
brother,” Kimball said in astonishment. “He’s
sitting at the end of the head table. He usually shares my
trencher.”
“Her brother?”
“Grandfather had to take him for fostering or
we couldn’t have her. He’s been here all spring with
Lady Saura. She’s nice. She’s been taking care of us,
talking to us and kissing us good night and slopping comfrey salve
on our bruises. Except she forced us to take a spring bath. Did she
have the servants strip you and throw you in, too?”
A tomblike officiousness hushed the table: every
ear strained to hear his answer.
“Nay, son,” William rumbled.
“There are incentives for adults who agree to bathe without
struggling.”
A low chuckle rippled around the trestle tables and
William’s retainers and admirers nodded and murmured to one
another.
He was back. Their lord was back.
“Did you enjoy your incentive?” Lord
Peter asked at William’s left hand.
William smiled pleasantly. “She was a very
accomplished young lass, willing and eager to accommodate her lord.
She had a lovely shape and pleasant breath. She matched almost
perfectly the girl I kissed in the tub.”
The page who was dishing out dropped his wooden
serving spoon and he danced away from the hot soup as it splattered
on the floor. The clank of the wood on the flagstones, thesound of his feet shuffling, the murmur of his apology
reverberated through the great hall as the knowing heads swiveled
from Saura to William and back again.
William, of course, didn’t know who else they
stared at, but he knew he had everyone’s attention as he
continued, “Aye, Father, I am blind. But I’m not
simpleminded. The girl in the bath had an innocent fire no other
woman could duplicate. Her sweet mouth branded me. I don’t
know who she was, or what she was, or why I can’t have her,
but my bathing companion was unforgettable. And until I can put my
hands on her, I’ll not bed a substitute.”
three
“William, you have to stop
kissing the maids.” Saura slapped her leather gloves against
her palm.
The girl in William’s lap slid off, giggling,
as he patted her bottom. “Thank you, dearling, but
you’re not
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