hours she hid her
impatience while she mended torn linens. With her head bent over
the work she allowed her thoughts to drift. They drifted to
Desmond. Though he was far from ugly, he was not particularly
handsome, either. Taller than most men, well muscled without being
unpleasantly bulky, with light brown hair and grey eyes, he could
have been almost any knight from her late father’s service at
Dereham. Yet Desmond was clearly not an ordinary man. His sharp
features displayed such intelligence, and his eyes were so alert as
they took in everything happening around him, that Elaine found him
compellingly attractive.
Her warm reaction to him shamed her. This was
no time for her to be looking at a man with personal interest, not
while Aglise was still missing. She should never have allowed him
to hold her hand. That she could regard him, a man she barely knew,
as anything more than a helper in the search for her sister was
shocking. Perhaps she was not so very different from Aglise, after
all.
“This is fine needlework,” Lady Benedicta
said several hours later, while she and Elaine were in the linen
room folding a newly repaired sheet. “You do sew an admirably fine
seam.”
Elaine looked at her in surprise, for Lady
Benedicta seldom praised her and the sheet was no better sewn than
dozens of others she had repaired over the last two years.
“Thank you, my lady,” was all she said.
“Did Lord Royce’s men learn anything
worthwhile yesterday?”
The question came suddenly, taking Elaine off
guard. Fortunately, she didn’t have to think about her
response.
“What they wanted,” she said, “was to ride
around the island with someone who knows it well. They did stop
here and there to ask if anyone had seen Aglise recently, but
mostly they were interested in seeing places where she could be
hiding, or beaches and harbors from which she could have left
Jersey. They seem to believe she has left, which may be why they
didn’t search more closely.”
Elaine didn’t mention the remarkably intense
interest with which Desmond and Cadwallon had gone over every
aspect of the landscape. She was sure that after only one day they
knew as almost much about the island as she did. And then, of
course, there had been Desmond’s sudden accusation that she was
concealing information. She had turned aside his questions and
Cadwallon’s later queries as they stood in the water, but she
didn’t fool herself into believing either of them was finished with
the subject.
“Of course, Aglise has left.” Lady Benedicta
placed the folded sheet on a shelf and smoothed the linen with
strong, capable hands. “I know you do not want to believe ill of
your sister, but it is all too clear to me that she has fled with a
lover.”
“What lover?” Elaine trembled with fear as
she spoke. “Are you aware of any particular friendship my sister
has?”
“I’d be the last person to whom Aglise would
confess her misbehavior,” Lady Benedicta scoffed. “I should think
you would know, since the two of you were so close.”
“We are close,” Elaine said. “Please,
my lady, do not speak of Aglise as if she is gone forever.”
“She has certainly left Jersey forever,” Lady
Benedicta stated firmly. “I am glad of it. She sorely abused our
hospitality. You may choose to associate with her after you have
left Warden’s Manor. That will be your decision, not mine. I am rid
of Aglise.”
Elaine bit her lip and kept silent, knowing
it was better not to argue with her foster mother.
“Where, exactly, did you ride yesterday?”
Lady Benedicta asked. She wasn’t looking directly at Elaine, for
she was busy distributing sprigs of dried lavender amongst the
sheets to keep them sweet-smelling and to discourage moths or
crawling vermin from making a feast of them.
“We took the road along the cliffs, then
turned south to Saint Ouen’s Bay, and then along the southern shore
back to Gorey.”
“Our men-at-arms searched all of those
impatience while she mended torn linens. With her head bent over
the work she allowed her thoughts to drift. They drifted to
Desmond. Though he was far from ugly, he was not particularly
handsome, either. Taller than most men, well muscled without being
unpleasantly bulky, with light brown hair and grey eyes, he could
have been almost any knight from her late father’s service at
Dereham. Yet Desmond was clearly not an ordinary man. His sharp
features displayed such intelligence, and his eyes were so alert as
they took in everything happening around him, that Elaine found him
compellingly attractive.
Her warm reaction to him shamed her. This was
no time for her to be looking at a man with personal interest, not
while Aglise was still missing. She should never have allowed him
to hold her hand. That she could regard him, a man she barely knew,
as anything more than a helper in the search for her sister was
shocking. Perhaps she was not so very different from Aglise, after
all.
“This is fine needlework,” Lady Benedicta
said several hours later, while she and Elaine were in the linen
room folding a newly repaired sheet. “You do sew an admirably fine
seam.”
Elaine looked at her in surprise, for Lady
Benedicta seldom praised her and the sheet was no better sewn than
dozens of others she had repaired over the last two years.
“Thank you, my lady,” was all she said.
“Did Lord Royce’s men learn anything
worthwhile yesterday?”
The question came suddenly, taking Elaine off
guard. Fortunately, she didn’t have to think about her
response.
“What they wanted,” she said, “was to ride
around the island with someone who knows it well. They did stop
here and there to ask if anyone had seen Aglise recently, but
mostly they were interested in seeing places where she could be
hiding, or beaches and harbors from which she could have left
Jersey. They seem to believe she has left, which may be why they
didn’t search more closely.”
Elaine didn’t mention the remarkably intense
interest with which Desmond and Cadwallon had gone over every
aspect of the landscape. She was sure that after only one day they
knew as almost much about the island as she did. And then, of
course, there had been Desmond’s sudden accusation that she was
concealing information. She had turned aside his questions and
Cadwallon’s later queries as they stood in the water, but she
didn’t fool herself into believing either of them was finished with
the subject.
“Of course, Aglise has left.” Lady Benedicta
placed the folded sheet on a shelf and smoothed the linen with
strong, capable hands. “I know you do not want to believe ill of
your sister, but it is all too clear to me that she has fled with a
lover.”
“What lover?” Elaine trembled with fear as
she spoke. “Are you aware of any particular friendship my sister
has?”
“I’d be the last person to whom Aglise would
confess her misbehavior,” Lady Benedicta scoffed. “I should think
you would know, since the two of you were so close.”
“We are close,” Elaine said. “Please,
my lady, do not speak of Aglise as if she is gone forever.”
“She has certainly left Jersey forever,” Lady
Benedicta stated firmly. “I am glad of it. She sorely abused our
hospitality. You may choose to associate with her after you have
left Warden’s Manor. That will be your decision, not mine. I am rid
of Aglise.”
Elaine bit her lip and kept silent, knowing
it was better not to argue with her foster mother.
“Where, exactly, did you ride yesterday?”
Lady Benedicta asked. She wasn’t looking directly at Elaine, for
she was busy distributing sprigs of dried lavender amongst the
sheets to keep them sweet-smelling and to discourage moths or
crawling vermin from making a feast of them.
“We took the road along the cliffs, then
turned south to Saint Ouen’s Bay, and then along the southern shore
back to Gorey.”
“Our men-at-arms searched all of those
Similar Books
