Aisley felt like a Christmas gift.
Or maybe a goose, all trussed up and waiting to be devoured by the hungry knights who milled about below like a pack of surly dogs. They were all full of wine and ale and food and eager for a prize. One would think the holy day was already upon them, the way the men feasted here at Edward’s court.
Frowning in disgust, Aisley saw the approach of her servant and turned away, unwilling to have Edith see her as she usually was not: powerless. But the woman had been with Aisley since birth and could tell her mood. “What is it, my lady?” she asked.
Aisley laughed bitterly. “What is it?” she echoed, her normally even voice harsh with anger. “I feel like a tournament prize, all wrapped up—” she whirled a hand downward to take in her fine new gown and ermine-lined cape “—and ready to be bestowed.”
“My lady—” Edith whispered, her tone urging caution.
Aisley cut off her words. “In the months since my father’s death, his holdings have continued to prosper under my hand,” she said. “Yet instead of receiving a reward for my efforts, it seems I am to be the reward given to some foul-smelling, money-grubbing wretch, simply because of our good king’s greed.”
“My lady!” Edith protested.
“’Tis not fair,” Aisley whispered, as she had so often in the past weeks. No matter how cleverly she had managed her father’s estates, how many suits she had successfully defended, how many crops she had brought to fruition—not to mention the household that ran so smoothly and tightly that it fairly sang like the string of a vielle—it was all for naught. In but a year the king’s summons had come, ordering her to wed.
“Hush,” Edith said. “It could be worse. At least you may select your own husband, and from the finest knights of the land, I might add.”
“Ha!” Aisley scoffed. “That honor comes to me only because I had enough money to pay for the privilege. Think you the king gave me a choice because of his love for me?”
“Hush,” Edith warned again. “Stop this dangerous, foolish chatter. For once in your life, behave yourself and pick wisely, using your head instead of your spleen.”
Aisley smiled grimly, unoffended by her servant’s words. Edith had been more a mother to her than anyone else, and Aisley could not curb the good woman’s tongue even if she tried. Instead, she sought to comfort the servant. “Don’t worry. I will pick wisely, dear Edith. I have a plan.”
Edith’s mouth dropped open, and she stepped back a pace in horror. “Oh, heaven help us,” she whispered. She was long familiar with Aisley’s schemes—schemes that never failed to get the young woman into trouble. Feeling the press of panic, she moved forward again, her hands clasped together in supplication. “My lady, please, cast aside whatever poor design you have devised.”
Aisley smiled, this time more sweetly. “I am only taking your advice to cull sagely, Edith,” she said. “The king told me that I must select one of his knights, did he not?” Without waiting for a reply, she continued. “He said any of his knights. That includes all in his realm, does it not?” Aisley paused, ignoring Edith’s confused and wary expression.
“My lady—”
“So I have made up my mind,” Aisley said. The tilt of her dainty mouth told Edith that Aisley was up to no good, and she shivered for the fate of her charge. Since the cradle, Aisley de Laci had been a handful, growing up with three brothers in a rough-and-tumble fashion, with no mother to teach her mild ways. Now, the two eldest boys having succumbed to a fever, the third having been killed in the latest Holy Crusade, and her father only recently gone, Aisley was the sole survivor. She had proved hardier than all of them, strong and clever, but she was also stubborn and sometimes foolhardy.
Privately, Edith thought that marriage to a decent man would do her charge good. To be ruled by a firm but warm hand and have babies of her own to raise might bring out the girl’s gentler nature. Edith had even held out hope that this decree of King Edward’s would turn out well, for Aisley was already seventeen and showed no interest in pursuing a husband herself. Yes, Edith had hoped, but she had not taken into account her mistress’s willful nature, which was making itself apparent in the lady’s tone of voice.
“And if he does not approve my choice, then I am, I assume, free to return home,” Aisley said.
Edith’s mind raced as she sought to fathom Aisley’s plan. For some reason her mistress thought the king would not allow her to marry the knight she would name. Edith blanched as one solution presented itself. “My lady, you would not ask for a man already married!”
Aisley’s eyes widened in surprise. “No, I had not thought of that.” She tilted her head to the side as if considering such a course. “No, I do not think Edward would accept that. But he will hold to my choice. He must,” she said more firmly.
Edith took a breath, afraid to learn the worst, but compelled to ask. “And who will it be, my lady?” she asked. Aisley’s smile reminded her of a cat that had strayed into a dairy, and her trepidation grew.
The young woman turned a disdainful glance over the knights assembled below. “I shall choose Baron Montmorency,” she said.
Edith flinched at the mention of the most feared of all the king’s men. Cloaked in mystery, the Red Knight was rumored to be in league with the devil, a creature of the shadows who practiced the dark arts from the depths of his isolated keep. And the very thought of him was too much for Edith, who sank to the floor in a swoon.
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