chair at the dais.
“Father, would you care for some ale?” Marcus motioned for a servant, but sinc e it was so early, no one came with the drink. So instead, Marcus handed him his tankard of ale. His father took a sip and then spit it halfway across the table.
“This is preposterous! I don’t want old ale.” He stood, and right away, his squire rushed forward and pulled the chair out of his way. “I’ll take to my bedchamber now as I am tired from my travels.” He headed across the hall quickly, and Marcus’s heart just about stopped. ’Twas early, and he knew Amethyst would still be sleeping in his bed. His father was sure to explode with anger when he saw her.
“Father , your room is not yet ready,” he said, rushing after him. His words caused the man to slow his pace as he spoke without turning around.
“You know I stay in your solar when I visit. And since you are not in the bed, I’d say it is more than ready.”
“But – you’ll be staying in another room this time.”
The earl stopped in his tracks and turned slowly to look at him. “I’ve funded this castle more than anyone, except mayhap the king. I hardly think it’s a burden to give me the best room in the castle after what I’ve done for you. Now, I don’t want to hear another word about it.”
Marcus was about to protest, when he saw Amethyst lying on the floor of the great hall beneath a coverlet. She pushed up to a sitting position and rubbed her eyes. Relief washed over him, as he knew now that she hadn’t used his room last night after all, and it would be empty for his father.
“Everyone, rise up and greet my father, Earl Gilbert Montclair,” Marcus called out and clapped his hands. He looked around the great hall, realizing that only about half the occupants that normally spent the night by the fire were here. He wondered if perhaps they were about their duties already, but if so, he surely would have heard the hustle and bustle. He looked around for his squire, but Peter was nowhere to be found either.
“Oh, Marcus, I almost forgot.” The earl waved his hand and a young, scrawny boy no more than three and tens years of age, ran up and bowed before him. “This is Benjamin, Baron Carlisle’s son. He has been a page and is ready to take the training of a squire. You will be training him personally.”
“I already have a squire,” he told his father. “And with the castle being built and having to keep a close eye on the borders, I have no time for this.”
“The baron is a personal friend of mine.” He leaned over and whispered. “Besides, if al l goes well, he will be donating money for the castle.”
It was all about money. As always. And unfortunately, Marcus had grown to think in the same manner. He knew he could use more money, especially since Amethyst didn’t seem as if she were in a hurry to hand over the bag of coins her father had sent.
“Fine. Benjam in, go wait for me by the fire.”
“Aye , my lord,” the boy said and scurried off.
“Oh, he is adorable,” said Amethyst, coming to join them and making Marcus squirm. He didn’t want her here. Not now. Not in front of his father. Things weren’t going at all as planned.
“Who are you?” asked Gilbert. “And why do you join the conversation as if you were invited?”
“I am Lady Amethyst, daughter of the earl of Blackpool,” she said. “And I am here because …” She glanced up at Marcus and he gave her a slight shake of the head, warning her to stay quiet. He hoped to hell she remembered their agreement. But since she was not sleeping in his bed, he was worried that she may have changed her mind.
“I am here visiting m y uncle, the master mason who is in charge of construction of the castle,” she continued.
Marcus let out a silent sigh of relief.
“Aye, well, just stay out of the way,” he warned her. “This is no place for a frail young lady.” He once again headed for the stairs.
“Of course,” she said and smiled at
“Father, would you care for some ale?” Marcus motioned for a servant, but sinc e it was so early, no one came with the drink. So instead, Marcus handed him his tankard of ale. His father took a sip and then spit it halfway across the table.
“This is preposterous! I don’t want old ale.” He stood, and right away, his squire rushed forward and pulled the chair out of his way. “I’ll take to my bedchamber now as I am tired from my travels.” He headed across the hall quickly, and Marcus’s heart just about stopped. ’Twas early, and he knew Amethyst would still be sleeping in his bed. His father was sure to explode with anger when he saw her.
“Father , your room is not yet ready,” he said, rushing after him. His words caused the man to slow his pace as he spoke without turning around.
“You know I stay in your solar when I visit. And since you are not in the bed, I’d say it is more than ready.”
“But – you’ll be staying in another room this time.”
The earl stopped in his tracks and turned slowly to look at him. “I’ve funded this castle more than anyone, except mayhap the king. I hardly think it’s a burden to give me the best room in the castle after what I’ve done for you. Now, I don’t want to hear another word about it.”
Marcus was about to protest, when he saw Amethyst lying on the floor of the great hall beneath a coverlet. She pushed up to a sitting position and rubbed her eyes. Relief washed over him, as he knew now that she hadn’t used his room last night after all, and it would be empty for his father.
“Everyone, rise up and greet my father, Earl Gilbert Montclair,” Marcus called out and clapped his hands. He looked around the great hall, realizing that only about half the occupants that normally spent the night by the fire were here. He wondered if perhaps they were about their duties already, but if so, he surely would have heard the hustle and bustle. He looked around for his squire, but Peter was nowhere to be found either.
“Oh, Marcus, I almost forgot.” The earl waved his hand and a young, scrawny boy no more than three and tens years of age, ran up and bowed before him. “This is Benjamin, Baron Carlisle’s son. He has been a page and is ready to take the training of a squire. You will be training him personally.”
“I already have a squire,” he told his father. “And with the castle being built and having to keep a close eye on the borders, I have no time for this.”
“The baron is a personal friend of mine.” He leaned over and whispered. “Besides, if al l goes well, he will be donating money for the castle.”
It was all about money. As always. And unfortunately, Marcus had grown to think in the same manner. He knew he could use more money, especially since Amethyst didn’t seem as if she were in a hurry to hand over the bag of coins her father had sent.
“Fine. Benjam in, go wait for me by the fire.”
“Aye , my lord,” the boy said and scurried off.
“Oh, he is adorable,” said Amethyst, coming to join them and making Marcus squirm. He didn’t want her here. Not now. Not in front of his father. Things weren’t going at all as planned.
“Who are you?” asked Gilbert. “And why do you join the conversation as if you were invited?”
“I am Lady Amethyst, daughter of the earl of Blackpool,” she said. “And I am here because …” She glanced up at Marcus and he gave her a slight shake of the head, warning her to stay quiet. He hoped to hell she remembered their agreement. But since she was not sleeping in his bed, he was worried that she may have changed her mind.
“I am here visiting m y uncle, the master mason who is in charge of construction of the castle,” she continued.
Marcus let out a silent sigh of relief.
“Aye, well, just stay out of the way,” he warned her. “This is no place for a frail young lady.” He once again headed for the stairs.
“Of course,” she said and smiled at
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