The Lost Lady Read online

  Luveday smiled at him, and he returned it. “No, it’s not.”

  Over the next week, Iain spent more time roaming the countryside than at home. His bride was momentarily forgotten as he searched for the villains who had dared to attack his blood-brother. Iain was filled with such rage that if he had found the culprit during those first few days, he would have killed the man with his bare hands. Luveday sent men out with supplies every few days, Iain believed it was more to update him on Benedict’s condition than because she thought he was unable to fend for himself. He admitted that the food and messages were very welcome.

  After nearly a fortnight the men returned home. Iain was wary and tired of chasing shadows. If this attacker truly meant Benedict harm than it was only a matter of time before he tried again. Better to plan and wait for his prey to come to him. It was late afternoon when he entered the hall and headed for the room under the stairs. The door was ajar to let in air, and laughter rang out from the small space; male and female laughter. Iain couldn’t help but smile as he recognized the mumbling voices, but that smile soon turned to a frown as he approached the door. What were those two talking about? Rather than let his presence be known, he waited to listen at the cracked door.

  Stifled female laughter. “He didn’t!” She tried to catch her breath between laughs and gulps of air.

  “Yes, he did! And got up and did it again, the bloody fool!” Benedict laughed heartily, then groaned aloud. Iain opened the door to see Luveday leaning over Benedict examining his leg.

  “Careful now!” She reprimanded, all humor gone.

  Benedicts smiled at her bent head when she could not see him. The light in his eyes annoyed Iain, it was a look of affection. “When will I be able to leave this bed, Lady?”

  Straightening Luveday smiled at him, it was a question he had been asking every few hours for the last couple of days. “Walking is out of the question, but…” she paused and looked at him. Her eyes narrowed as his smile widened. “But perhaps we can move you to the hearth for a little while this afternoon.”

  “Lady!” Benedict swooped forward to grab her hand, meaning to kiss it, but Iain’s voice cut through the happy moment.

  “Lady Luveday! Benedict!” The Lord’s happy demeanor held a false quality that Benedict was familiar with. Iain was angry and yet wanted to appear as if he had just arrived and was happy to greet them. Benedict wondered how long he had been waiting to come in. “Benedict, you look well!”

  “All thanks to this lovely lady.” Benedict teased her with the play on her name, but Luveday didn’t think he meant anything by it. She knew she was not lovely, no matter what her name implied. She felt that Lady Christabel, Lady Emmalyn, and even Elli were far prettier than her, and Benedict was just an incorrigible flirt.

  “Do you think it is wise to get him up, Lady Luveday?” Iain filled the doorway and rested his hands on each side of the casement. Benedict wondered why he was posturing so, making himself look bigger, then smiled. His friend was jealous. Benedict realized the truth and humor settled in. He would not let Iain have all the pretty women of the castle, and so decided to make an effort to win this lady, even if he had no intentions of bedding her and Iain wouldn’t know that, and so it would be a good game between the two. He thought Luveday would be a good sport, she was a compassionate lady with a sharp wit and lively sense of humor.

  Luveday looked over her shoulder at him and then turned sideways on the stool so she could turn her head and see both men easily. “I don’t expect him to walk, but we can move him into the Hall.” She turned back to her patient and looked at the grimace on his face. He didn’t like the notion of being carried. “Sitting by the hearth for a while should tire you out well enough.”

  “Oh, I see. You just want me to rest.” He said. “Always rest.”

  She was familiar with this joke. “And stop asking questions.” She countered.

  “Is that how it is?” He asked in mock offense.

  “Just so.” She laughed at him as she got to her feet. “I’ll let you two talk for a bit while I see about moving our guest.”

  “Guest!” Benedict huffed at her retreating form. “More like prisoner!” His raised voice echoed through the halls with her laughter. He smiled at Iain as his friend took the vacant chair. “Any news, brother?”

  “No.” De Lane felt exhaustion settle in as he sat down. “We saw where you were attacked and followed a trail back a far ways but lost it.” He ran a hand through his hair and over his rough beard. “We hunted down any sightings of a man matching the description you gave Gregori, but to no avail.” He looked Benedict in the eyes, for once his friend wasn’t laughing or smiling or making jests. “If he means to finish the job, he’ll have to come here.”

  “That was what I was thinking.” Benedict sat back, suddenly tired. “Better to wait for the enemy than chase our tails around the countryside.”

  “Aye.” Iain looked at him sharply. “How are you feeling, other than giving the ladies grief?”

  Benedict laughed at him. “The ladies love me! You know that.” Iain grumbled. Benedict leaned in as if he were imparting a secret. Iain leaned in as well. “Besides, Lady Luveday fancies me!”

  “Like hell she does!” He spat, rocking back.

  “No, she spends most of her day here keeping me company, checking the leg.” He wiggled his toes. “She fancies me!” He grinned.

  “Stay away from Lady Luveday, Benedict!” He growled before rising and heading toward the door, but his friend’s words caused him to turn back with a glare.

  “It’s I who is stuck in this damn bed,” he chuckled. “‘Tis easier to tell her to stay clear of me!”

  Iain bumped into Luveday as he turned away from Benedicts grinning face. He had to grab hold of her to steady them both. They looked into each other’s eyes, momentarily startled. Without a word, Iain let go of her, stepped back and then brushed past on his way to the solar. Luveday watched him stomp toward the stairs and a moment later heard the solar’s outer door slam against its frame with a loud bang that echoed through the hall.

  She moved to see Benedict had witnessed the exchange and laughed merrily to himself. She asked him in confusion, “What was all that about?”

  Benedict continued to laugh heartily. “Nothing lady. ‘Twas nothing.” She gave him a dubious look as she set the fresh pitcher of ale beside the bed. He looked at her and thought happily, Let the game begin!

  Chapter 5

  God answers sharp and sudden on some prayers and thrust

  the thing we have prayed for in our face, like a gauntlet with a gift in it.

  ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning

  Benedict’s wound healed fast and well, it was only a short time until he was a permanent fixture before the hearth. The man was eager to use his legs but listened to the women and settled for the chair before the fire though they knew they couldn’t keep him in it for long. His presence lightened the mood of the castle, even Iain was seen smiling a good deal around the hall. One night when they were gathered around the fire after supper, Iain came down from a bath, clean shaved and smelling fresh. The last few days had seen him to the Abbey and back several times, and the man looked rougher than usual after each trip.

  Luveday had gotten up to pour another round of drinks and looked up at hearing the solar door open. Feminine laughter emerged as Coll came down and behind him a very handsome man. Luveday’s brain froze. A part of her knew who she was staring at, but another part couldn’t believe that a man that handsome had been hiding under all that hair. The women had said he was a fine-looking lord, more so than most men, but some of them had a very different notion of what was pleasing to the eye; very different from Luveday’s tastes, at least.

  He smiled at her, a small quirk of his lips as if he knew what she was thinking and Luveday was shocked back into her body. She looked down sharply to find that the mug she was filling was very near to overflowing with ale. Luveday checked herself, embarrassed. How long had she been starin
g at him?

  Benedict looked around his chair to see what had caught the lady’s attention and grinned. So, Iain had shaved and cut his locks. It was about time. Benedict couldn’t help but comment. “Finally bathed, have you? I had forgotten what an ugly face was lurking under that pelt.”

  Iain laughed. “I’ve not heard the women complaining about it.”

  “The ladies are too polite, I’m sure.” Benedict looked at Iain’s clean-shaven face and couldn’t help but cause trouble. Iain sat next to him, closer to the fire and watched Luveday as she refilled mugs of ale. “Lady Luveday, do you not think my friend is handsome?” Benedict asked playfully. Emmalyn called his name, but her laughter softened the warning. She knew what he was up to, what he had been up to these last few days. Luckily, Luveday’s head wasn’t turned, she took the teasing and flirting as a jest, and occasionally gave as good as she got.

  Luveday smiled, as she looked over her shoulder at the two men. Benedict wore his charming grin, and while Iain smiled his eyes were narrowed as he awaited her reply, “Aye, Lord Benedict. He is handsome, I am sure many women have told him so.”

  “Aye, a few men as well.” Emmalyn and the men laughed at his jest.

  “My nephew has quite the reputation, or so I’m told.” The elder lady did not look upset, she smiled mischievously at her nephew across the way.

  He looked uncomfortable for a moment but smiled heartily back at her. “Nothing that needs concern you, Aunt. And who have you been talking to, to hear of such things?”

  “Never you mind, lad. Never you mind.” Iain looked perplexed at his aunt’s answer as she sipped her drink.

  “Quite a few fights have started over that face.” Benedict continued. The men laughed, and Iain scowled.

  Luveday laughed as well, quoting under her breath, “the face that launched a thousand ships.”

  “‘Twas an excuse, the fight started long before they saw his face,” Gregori added.

  “Yet, I quite distinctly remember them complaining about it.” Benedict laughed. Cursing Iain’s handsome face had been a game for them. Anytime anything had gone wrong, they reverted to blaming it. More than one fight had started with some yelling, “Damn your comely face,” just before someone tried to rearrange it for him.

  “I remember them complaining about other things as well,” Iain looked knowingly at his friend.

  “Damn,” Benedict mumble under his breath, but Luveday was at his elbow, and he looked up startled. She had heard him. “My apologies lady, but my friend is not playing nice.”

  She readily countered that comment. “I did not think you two played nice with each other.”

  Benedict gasp in mock hurt. “Never say so, lady. We are the best of friends. This is our nice.”

  Luveday smiled at them and chuckled. “If this is nice, I shudder to think of you playing dirty.”

  Humming under his breath, Benedict caught the speculative look Iain gave Luveday’s remark. “Yes, I suppose it would be something to see, Lady; besides being so much more fun.” Iain glared at him while Emmalyn called a halt to their banter.

  Luveday finally handed Iain a mug and filled it with cool ale. She did not look him in the eye but concentrated on her task. Iain took a moment to look her over in the firelight. The woman had changed a good deal since her arrival. She was pretty with blonde hair and changing eyes. She wasn’t a great beauty, but there was something kind and trustworthy about her, or perhaps that was only what he had come to see.

  Benedict interrupted his thoughts. “So, brother, what is the occasion? Why shave a year’s worth of hair from your chin?” They glared at each other, Benedict with his cocky grin and Iain with a light of his own.

  Iain smiled wide. “Tomorrow I am to head back to the Abbey,” he paused a moment for effect, “to escort Lady Christabel home.” He stated in triumph.

  There were gasps from the women and a good deal of hearty joking and congratulations from the men. Luveday, who stood amongst them with her back to the fire looked to Iain startled, smiled strangely at him, looked to Lady Emmalyn perplexed, who nodded at her, and then rushed for the stairs that led to the kitchens. Iain watched the exchange with confusion and a bitter taste in his mouth that the ale did not wash away.

  Luveday and the ladies worked deep into the night to prepare for the arrival of Iain’s bride. They were determined to present themselves as they should have the first time, if not for the lady, then for their own honor. Luveday and Emmalyn changed around the menu to surprise the lady with fine food. The important items on her list had been taken care of a month ago, her rooms cleaned spotless and bedding aired. All that was left was to make sure the rooms were still clean and to do the little touches that would please any young woman. Fresh flowers were picked the next morning, plates of dried fruit and cheese ready to greet her. Luveday raked her brain for anything that might help to win the lady’s heart, but she could think of nothing to add.

  When the afternoon rolled on, and the procession finally made it to the castle, both Iain, and Christabel were in a fine mood. They looked as if they might have been arguing the whole way, but the castle, in full, was present to greet her. The people quickly dispersed as Iain glared daggers at them and their future lady ignored the welcoming party entirely.

  Christabel watched until the last item was unloaded from the cart before entering the hall. She was met at the door by Luveday and Emmalyn who had retired inside its shadow to watch the scene in the courtyard unfold with concern. The lady swept by the two women, took a look at the hall, sniffed delicately, and headed straight to her room. The slamming of her door echoed through the hall for what seemed like minutes. Luveday turned to look at De Lane as he marched up the few stairs to the great door. He stopped to look at her, then up at the staircase. When his gaze returned to her, it was hard, and Luveday forced down the urge to step back by straightening her spine.

  “Is there anything I can get you, My Lord?” She asked in a calm, clear voice that did not reflect the turmoil inside.

  He looked as if he were about to say something and then changed his mind. “No, Lady Luveday. I need nothing.” The way he said need made her think that he put a good deal of meaning behind the word. She wished she knew him better to be able to understand the intellect behind his, sometimes, mercurial moods. Luveday knew there was a great deal on his mind. His responsibilities were vast and to throw a bride on top of trying to rebuild his estates was adding to his burdens. “Money,” Luveday whispered to herself as she watched him ascend the stairs. “You can’t buy happiness.” She thought ironically, considering the situation. There was talk of Christabel’s bride price and the money needed to restore the lands. Iain was marrying for money, not love. She thought Christabel might be more of a burden than a help in the times to come and wondered if, in the end, it would be worth it.

  Christabel settled in, much as she had before. Her demands were at times absurd and Luveday was often called upon to mediate by Mistress Adela. The castle was coming to despise their future lady no matter what Luveday, Adela or Emmalyn did to help. The lord of the castle tried to charm his lady, his handsome face was only a momentary distraction. It was clear that Christabel did not wish to be there and had many wondering why she stayed.

  Iain spent as much time with his betrothed as he could stand. Luckily, duties called him away. He was grateful for the respite as he rode across his lands and surveyed the improvements. The masons were hard at work on the mill and had done a fine job on the cottages. The men were back in the fields and greeted him kindly. He tried not to be upset when they followed the polite questions about his health and the weather with inquiries about Lady Luveday or wishing him luck with his reluctant bride.

  “Damn the woman!” He whispered under his breath, but Gregori, who had decided to accompany him on this outing, heard.

  “Which woman?” He laughed, as Iain cursed his exceptionally good hearing.

  “All of them… none of them… why can’t they just… just…” He
growled under his breath as he ground his teeth. Gregori laughed until he had tears in his eyes. It was so unusual to see Iain perplexed by the fairer sex.

  His friend had always seen women in certain lights. He put them in place in his mind, once in a category, he no longer worried about them. There were the mothering types like Lady Emmalyn and Lady Jane. The Courtesan types, like Lady Katherine who wanted only the handsome face or the notoriety of sleeping with the King’s Champion. There were proper ladies suitable to take to wife, like Christabel and other court flowers that expected all the chivalrous customs of a knight. Below them were the serving women that worked at hand and could be bedded if he had a mind to. His were simple, straightforward categories that influenced his behavior concerning women, yet now he had two women that no longer fit into his view of the world. Christabel had changed categories to become something he had only vague notions of what such a woman must be like, his future bride. Bride was not a category he had ever spent much time thinking about, and the fact that a court beauty had suddenly taken up the single position was not heartening in the least. On the other hand, there was Luveday who refused to fit into any category and instead decided to confuse him by jumping around from one to another as it pleased her. His moment of fancy had briefly placed her in the bride category which still confused him as he tried to ignore the images it conjured and his growing appreciation for the woman. “Damn these women!” He said again causing the few men with him to laugh harder.

  Gregori leaned over to slap him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, my brother! There is always a good way to handle the fairer sex!”

  Iain looked at him, seeing the amusement in his friend’s eyes as Gregori lightened his mood. Women had never been a problem for him in the past, and by God, they wouldn’t be now.