Since my betrothed didn’t become earl, he must not have thought it important to mention. So what made Wynland’s brother change his mind?”
Though Esther looked skeptical, she said, “’Twas the earl’s mother who convinced him to take his birthright.”
“She’s not dead?”
“She is now. Let me explain. After five years of marriage to his first wife, Fulke’s father sent the woman to a convent in France where he had her take vows to become a nun. That done, the church granted him an annulment that allowed him to wed Fulke’s mother, Lady Aveline. Thus, had Fulke become earl, he would not have attended the king’s war and would now be wed to my Jaspar.”
Kennedy congratulated herself on wading through the mishmash. But though she knew she should accept the pats on the back and run, it would be foolish to not take advantage of Esther’s knowledge. “I understand the earl of Sinwell may have been murdered. What do you think?”
“You are asking if I believe your betrothed murdered his brother?” A hint of a smile wrinkled her upper lip.
She seemed pleased with herself, as if she had led Kennedy down a path her mistress had said she should.
“’Twas likely he did it. ‘Tis not beyond one such as Lord Wynland.”
A ruthless military advisor. Still, Kennedy had the feeling Jaspar was behind Esther’s revelations, that all the woman said was designed to send Kennedy scurrying for cover. “For argument’s sake, let’s say it wasn’t Lord Wynland. Who else could it have been?”
The question seemed to set Esther back. After some moments, she allowed, “I suppose ‘tis possible it was simply an accident.”
“And if not?”
Esther shrugged. “Mayhap you ought to look to the one who attacked your baggage train, my lady.”
Fulke Wynland.
“Too, it could have been Baron Cardell.”
Kennedy frowned. “Why would he do such a thing?”
“He covets wardship of John and Harold, which the earl promised him in the event of his death. ‘Tis a position of great power.”
Sticky. “How did Fulke Wynland gain wardship of the boys?”
“By the king’s decree. Lord Wynland is a favorite of his.”
“But if Cardell may have killed the earl, why does Wynland allow the man to accompany him?”
Esther smiled. “Better at his side than his back, eh?”
True. “One more thing, Esther, did Wynland ever marry?”
Laughter escaped the old woman. “Nay, though many a match the king has tried to make.”
Was he mooning over Jaspar? If so, what held him back when there seemed no more barriers?
Esther leaned near. “I pray that all I have told you will help you better understand my lady and the reasons for the things she says and does.”
There was more to the maid than met the eye. Perhaps Jaspar hadn’t put her up to this chat. “You must care very much for her.”
“We have been together since her birth when I was given to be her wet nurse.”
Whatever that was.
Esther stood. “I shall come for you ere the nooning meal.”
Only then did Kennedy realize how hungry she was, her last meal having consisted of a biscuit and a piece of meat. Transported back to the stream, she remembered awakening to find herself curled against Wynland, his face above hers, gaze intent. It had been as if seeing him for the first time, and for a moment she had found it hard to believe that he and the villain of Mac’s book were the same.
A creak and groan returned Kennedy to Castle Cirque and the woman slipping out the door.
“Esther!”
She poked her head back inside. “My lady?”
Though the question of whether or not Wynland had returned Lady Jaspar’s love was on Kennedy’s mind, she held up her handiwork. “What do you think?”
Esther grimaced. “’Tis true that where you come from women wear these. . .underwear?”
“It’s all the rage.”
Esther shook her head and closed the door.
Kennedy scrutinized the lopsided cut and uneven stitches. The underwear was a far cry from her seamless
Though Esther looked skeptical, she said, “’Twas the earl’s mother who convinced him to take his birthright.”
“She’s not dead?”
“She is now. Let me explain. After five years of marriage to his first wife, Fulke’s father sent the woman to a convent in France where he had her take vows to become a nun. That done, the church granted him an annulment that allowed him to wed Fulke’s mother, Lady Aveline. Thus, had Fulke become earl, he would not have attended the king’s war and would now be wed to my Jaspar.”
Kennedy congratulated herself on wading through the mishmash. But though she knew she should accept the pats on the back and run, it would be foolish to not take advantage of Esther’s knowledge. “I understand the earl of Sinwell may have been murdered. What do you think?”
“You are asking if I believe your betrothed murdered his brother?” A hint of a smile wrinkled her upper lip.
She seemed pleased with herself, as if she had led Kennedy down a path her mistress had said she should.
“’Twas likely he did it. ‘Tis not beyond one such as Lord Wynland.”
A ruthless military advisor. Still, Kennedy had the feeling Jaspar was behind Esther’s revelations, that all the woman said was designed to send Kennedy scurrying for cover. “For argument’s sake, let’s say it wasn’t Lord Wynland. Who else could it have been?”
The question seemed to set Esther back. After some moments, she allowed, “I suppose ‘tis possible it was simply an accident.”
“And if not?”
Esther shrugged. “Mayhap you ought to look to the one who attacked your baggage train, my lady.”
Fulke Wynland.
“Too, it could have been Baron Cardell.”
Kennedy frowned. “Why would he do such a thing?”
“He covets wardship of John and Harold, which the earl promised him in the event of his death. ‘Tis a position of great power.”
Sticky. “How did Fulke Wynland gain wardship of the boys?”
“By the king’s decree. Lord Wynland is a favorite of his.”
“But if Cardell may have killed the earl, why does Wynland allow the man to accompany him?”
Esther smiled. “Better at his side than his back, eh?”
True. “One more thing, Esther, did Wynland ever marry?”
Laughter escaped the old woman. “Nay, though many a match the king has tried to make.”
Was he mooning over Jaspar? If so, what held him back when there seemed no more barriers?
Esther leaned near. “I pray that all I have told you will help you better understand my lady and the reasons for the things she says and does.”
There was more to the maid than met the eye. Perhaps Jaspar hadn’t put her up to this chat. “You must care very much for her.”
“We have been together since her birth when I was given to be her wet nurse.”
Whatever that was.
Esther stood. “I shall come for you ere the nooning meal.”
Only then did Kennedy realize how hungry she was, her last meal having consisted of a biscuit and a piece of meat. Transported back to the stream, she remembered awakening to find herself curled against Wynland, his face above hers, gaze intent. It had been as if seeing him for the first time, and for a moment she had found it hard to believe that he and the villain of Mac’s book were the same.
A creak and groan returned Kennedy to Castle Cirque and the woman slipping out the door.
“Esther!”
She poked her head back inside. “My lady?”
Though the question of whether or not Wynland had returned Lady Jaspar’s love was on Kennedy’s mind, she held up her handiwork. “What do you think?”
Esther grimaced. “’Tis true that where you come from women wear these. . .underwear?”
“It’s all the rage.”
Esther shook her head and closed the door.
Kennedy scrutinized the lopsided cut and uneven stitches. The underwear was a far cry from her seamless
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