The Holding - Book 1 in The Medieval Knights Series by Claudia Dain Page B
Authors: Claudia Dain
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worse. But then, who but God knew what this day would bring? William might have decided to leave Greneforde for a richer holding. He might have decided to publicly humiliate her and was even now waiting in the hall to deride her in the presence of his men. He might have tired of sheathing his anger and would strike her when next they met. He and his men might kill them all for their duplicity and treachery...
Such thoughts were not helping her malaise. She had to rise and be about her daily affairs, husband or no, Marie's quiet entrance spurred her to action.
Throwing back the cover with more energy than she felt, Cathryn rose from the bed with a smile for Marie. Truly she felt no desire to smile for herself.
"Ah, lady, you are awake," Marie said with some surprise. "I had thought you would not want to be up so early this day." The pity in her voice was unmistakable. Cathryn could not allow it, for if she did, she would hide away all day and cry herself sick.
"And why should I linger abed, Marie?" she answered with determined cheer. "The sun will not wait for me, and there is much to be done this day, as there is each day."
"Aye, lady," Marie acquiesced quietly, "yet—"
"Come," Cathryn interrupted, eager to be off this topic, "choose a gown for me, for I stand here shivering, despite the warmth of the fire you laid for me and for which I am grateful. The sun will not slow its passage and I must be about my tasks."
Marie said no more, but hurried forward with a worn bliaut of faded green for her lady to wear. The effect it made with the soft white of Cathryn's undergarments was not displeasing; if the green had only retained its original hue, the effect would have been quite fresh and gay, especially with the belt of amber that had once been worn with the garment. But that had been long ago.
Her toilette finished, Cathryn left the bedchamber without noticeable hesitation and descended the stair to the hall. She paused briefly at the curtained entrance to the great hall, the sounds of talk and soft laughter coming to her faintly from beyond the worn curtain. She could not distinguish le Brouillard's voice from among them, but that was not surprising; she hardly knew the man, husband though he was. Then she chided herself for her self-deception; she hardly knew him, but she would know his voice at a thousand paces—that was the truth of it.
She waited a moment longer, her anxiety at having to face him rising with each breath. It was absurd. He was lord here; she must face him eventually, and the sooner the better.
Pushing back the curtain, Cathryn entered the hall. A quick scan revealed that he was not present, nor was his shadow companion, Rowland. The men gathered there turned to see who was entering, and she braced herself for their scorn or derision or cruelty or whatever else a man could think to do when his lord's honor had been sullied.
These men did nothing. Some nodded in her direction, but that was the most overt act any of them committed. Cathryn let her breath out with conscious effort, hardly aware that she had been holding it. Before she could draw another, even before she could step more fully into the room, Ulrich hurried over to her, his eyes lit with eagerness and good cheer.
"Good morn to you, my lady," he began with a smile, coaxing her more deeply into the hall and leading her courteously to the table so that she could break her fast. "My lord has been up since before the dawn to inspect the fields and determine if they are ready for seed." It suddenly struck him that she might take offense, thinking her skill at managing an estate had just been questioned. "You had not yet arisen when he yearned to be off, and Lord William is ever eager to be up and away come the mom. Rowland is with him," Ulrich thought to add, in case she would worry as to her husband's safety, "and they plan to search the wood for game. Would you not like fresh game for dinner, Lady Cathryn?" he asked.
Ulrich had not been
Such thoughts were not helping her malaise. She had to rise and be about her daily affairs, husband or no, Marie's quiet entrance spurred her to action.
Throwing back the cover with more energy than she felt, Cathryn rose from the bed with a smile for Marie. Truly she felt no desire to smile for herself.
"Ah, lady, you are awake," Marie said with some surprise. "I had thought you would not want to be up so early this day." The pity in her voice was unmistakable. Cathryn could not allow it, for if she did, she would hide away all day and cry herself sick.
"And why should I linger abed, Marie?" she answered with determined cheer. "The sun will not wait for me, and there is much to be done this day, as there is each day."
"Aye, lady," Marie acquiesced quietly, "yet—"
"Come," Cathryn interrupted, eager to be off this topic, "choose a gown for me, for I stand here shivering, despite the warmth of the fire you laid for me and for which I am grateful. The sun will not slow its passage and I must be about my tasks."
Marie said no more, but hurried forward with a worn bliaut of faded green for her lady to wear. The effect it made with the soft white of Cathryn's undergarments was not displeasing; if the green had only retained its original hue, the effect would have been quite fresh and gay, especially with the belt of amber that had once been worn with the garment. But that had been long ago.
Her toilette finished, Cathryn left the bedchamber without noticeable hesitation and descended the stair to the hall. She paused briefly at the curtained entrance to the great hall, the sounds of talk and soft laughter coming to her faintly from beyond the worn curtain. She could not distinguish le Brouillard's voice from among them, but that was not surprising; she hardly knew the man, husband though he was. Then she chided herself for her self-deception; she hardly knew him, but she would know his voice at a thousand paces—that was the truth of it.
She waited a moment longer, her anxiety at having to face him rising with each breath. It was absurd. He was lord here; she must face him eventually, and the sooner the better.
Pushing back the curtain, Cathryn entered the hall. A quick scan revealed that he was not present, nor was his shadow companion, Rowland. The men gathered there turned to see who was entering, and she braced herself for their scorn or derision or cruelty or whatever else a man could think to do when his lord's honor had been sullied.
These men did nothing. Some nodded in her direction, but that was the most overt act any of them committed. Cathryn let her breath out with conscious effort, hardly aware that she had been holding it. Before she could draw another, even before she could step more fully into the room, Ulrich hurried over to her, his eyes lit with eagerness and good cheer.
"Good morn to you, my lady," he began with a smile, coaxing her more deeply into the hall and leading her courteously to the table so that she could break her fast. "My lord has been up since before the dawn to inspect the fields and determine if they are ready for seed." It suddenly struck him that she might take offense, thinking her skill at managing an estate had just been questioned. "You had not yet arisen when he yearned to be off, and Lord William is ever eager to be up and away come the mom. Rowland is with him," Ulrich thought to add, in case she would worry as to her husband's safety, "and they plan to search the wood for game. Would you not like fresh game for dinner, Lady Cathryn?" he asked.
Ulrich had not been
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