Chapter 3
As instructed, Angelet worked diligently on the altar cloth, remaining in her little solar each day from dawn until the midday meal. The light was best there, due to the southern exposure, and it was warmer too. She spent most of her time embroidering, though mending and some other work could also require her attention.
She wondered idly who the altar cloth was for, but not too hard, for Angelet never worried overmuch about Otto’s dealings. Probably for some other baron with whom Otto wanted to make an alliance. Otto, an adherent of King Stephen, was deeply concerned with the progress of the war between the royal cousins, and worked constantly to better his position. Angelet had no strong feelings either way. Let the great powers struggle among themselves for earthly glory, so faint and fleeting. Neither faction had use for her, so she had no use for either of them.
A few days after Candlemas, the morning dawned bright and sunny. She worked through the midday meal, but in the afternoon she heard a commotion below. Visitors? Curious, she went to the window to see what was happening. In the courtyard, a small group of men had just ridden in. Their horses steamed in the cold air as they dismounted and offered cheery greetings to the stableboy who had rushed forward.
Travelers, she guessed. They may only be staying the night, or perhaps they were on some official business that involved Otto in some way. Angelet surveyed the men, leaning further out the window to do so. They looked much like mercenaries, with mismatched armor and a smattering of weapons among their gear. One stood out, though.
That man wore a black surcoat over his chainmail, and everything about him looked more professional than the others. He must be the leader. His shoulder-length hair was just as black as his surcoat. He tipped his head up to look around the courtyard, and Angelet actually gasped when she saw his face. His deep blue eyes were bright and full of intelligence. He wore no beard, so his mouth was clear to see—a beautiful, sensual mouth. All in all, an uncommonly handsome man.
His gaze crossed hers, and Angelet quickly drew back into the safety of the solar. She ought to behave more modestly, instead of hanging out of a window staring at strangers. What would Father Mark say? She remembered his talk of marriage, and briefly pictured a husband who looked like the man in the courtyard. That might convince her to marry, if she also knew him to be good.
The man in black did not seem precisely good. Something about him made her nervous—a premonition that he was going to intrude upon her life for better or for worse, and there was nothing she could do about it. Her hands began to shake, a telltale sign that a fit could occur. She took several long breaths, putting one hand over her belly to measure her breath and keep herself calm.
“Mother Mary, Queen of Heaven, help me,” she prayed. “As your son healed the sick, I beg you to intercede for me. I am weak and a sinner, but I swear I love thee and thy blessed son. Please, have mercy on me. Don’t let me fall into darkness again.”
The prayer helped, and she repeated it several times until the worst of the feeling passed. She would survive this. No matter what happened, she would endure it with grace.
Angelet sat down at her work table again, willing herself to put the image of the stranger out of her head. He meant nothing to her, and she had work to do while the light remained good.
A half-hour later, the door swung open, and a servant girl stepped through. She eyed Angelet suspiciously and said, “Lord Otto says you are to join the family in the hall for supper this evening. Dress well, for there are guests. You have one hour,” she added, as if Angelet were the servant to be ordered.
“Send Bethany to my room to help me dress then. I’ll be there in a moment.” Angelet didn’t bother to correct the servant’s rude behavior. After years at Dryton, she was used to it.
Angelet’s chamber was tiny, because she was the only person who slept in it. The other women of the house objected to sleeping near her, due to her affliction. So despite being born a lady, she slept in a place more like an anchorite’s call. She didn’t mind much, in fact. She valued privacy.
Her privacy came to an end when Bethany stormed in.
Bethany’s head came only to Angelet’s chest, but a lack of stature in no way humbled the maid. She tore though the room in search of everything needed to dress Angelet for supper.
“No word ahead, and then I’m supposed to leave off my own work to get a lady ready for show,” she muttered, the rest of the complaint lost amid the fabrics spilling out of the chest the maid was hunting through.
“The white gown will do,” Angelet said. “I’ll wear the rose surcoat to make it look more stately.” And to hide the stains on the front of the underskirt. Angelet’s wardrobe was not well-attended to on wash days.
Bethany performed the bare minimum of assistance to get Angelet dressed. Then she left the room. Angelet tied the laces down the sides of the surcoat herself. She deliberately made the ties loose, allowing the surcoat to billow out a bit, and to make the armholes extra large. Angelet didn’t like it when clothing hugged her curves too tightly. When she was finished, she looked down at her outfit with a satisfied nod. The rose over the white was pretty but not ostentatious, and the loose fit ensured that she’d be comfortable throughout the evening.
She brushed her hair to a glossy sheen, and left it mostly loose, braiding only a thin crown around the back of her head to hold the rest in place. The fine, light blonde strands tended to fly when let loose. As a lady, however, Angelet couldn’t remember the last time she’d let her hair be completely free.
She wore two silver rings—one was a gift from her mother on the day she left home and the other was a wedding band. Normally, that would be the only jewelry she’d wear. But something made her open the little box on the table.
She pulled out a necklace of five large, oval moonstones set in silver. She put the necklace on, peering in her small hand mirror. The necklace was the one valuable thing she owned, and it was meant for truly important occasions. Not an ordinary supper. But she kept it on, liking the weight of the stones around her neck. Otto would be annoyed she wore them, and Angelet looked forward to seeing his expression.
She went downstairs, wondering what she was supposed to do that evening. Otto rarely called for her attendance for any events when visitors came to Dryton. He preferred her out of sight and out of mind. Yet he called for her specifically tonight. Why?
In the great hall, she saw the group of men who’d ridden into the courtyard earlier. There were four in total. So they weren’t simply travelers asking accommodations for the night. They were important enough for Otto to invite to table. Interesting.
The black-haired man was just as handsome as he’d seemed at first glance, perhaps even more so. He looked around the hall, and when his eyes met hers, he smiled warmly, as if he knew her already. Angelet quickly looked away. She didn’t want to encourage anything, especially from a knight likely to be as arrogant as he was good-looking.
Unfortunately, there was another arrogant man in the room, and he was walking directly toward her. Her brother-in-law Ernald Yarborough was a thorn in her side. He had a knack for finding her at the worst possible times, and she hated the way he looked at her.
She greeted some people as she made her way to her usual seat. The men in the hall looked at her, and most didn’t bother to hide their appraisal. The villagers and servants about the manor were circumspect—the difference in class was ingrained from birth, and very few of them would ever dare to insult a lady by a too-blatant appreciation. But the men-at-arms were different. Rough in personality and manners, they thought nothing of staring at her, and even muttering a few choice words that only she could hear.
Angelet didn’t even respond to them. Instead, she moved past as quickly as she could, finding the nearest group of people to protect her by their presence. She’d learned to keep an eye out while pretending to notice nothing. She always knew where it was safe to walk and what hours she should remain in her chambers or with other women of the manor. No one taught her this—no one cared enough to do so.
But Ernald was different. He was unavoidable.
“Look who’s come from her tower. Angelet the visionary. And with such jewels!” her brother-in-law said. “You’re asking for attention.”
“Lord Otto wanted me to attend,” she murmured coolly. She wasn’t asking for attention, and she certainly wasn’t asking for Ernald’s.
“Then you’ll sit by me.”
“I will not.”
“No point seating you by a guest,” he said, glancing about jealously. “What will you discuss with those men? Embroidery? Or do you think yourself so pretty you don’t need to say anything?”
Angelet was used to such remarks and paid them no mind. “Enjoy your supper. I will find my place at the table.”
“Your place isn’t for you to decide.” Ernald stepped closer, his expression turning ugly. “If you won’t act as part of this family, you should take your meal in the kitchen. Or better yet, the courtyard, with the beggars and freaks.”
Then, with no warning, the black-clad knight appeared between Angelet and her tormentor.
“Such comments are not polite,” he said flatly. “Apologize to her.”
“Or what?” Ernald asked, amazed that anyone would speak to him like that in his own home.
“I’ll decide it’s a matter of honor,” the stranger said. He didn’t seem the least bit taken aback. Did he not understand Ernald’s rank? “You definitely look old enough to have been taught the concept of honor by now.”
“What does that mean?” Ernald snapped.
“It means we’ll fight. And lately, every man I’ve fought has either surrendered or died. I care not which it will be for you.”
Ernald inhaled, puffing out his chest in offense. “I am the only living son of Lord Otto, to be a lord in my time. You’re nothing more than a soldier. Who are you to teach me lessons in manners?”
“Sir Rafe. I’m also called the Knight of the Raven.”
That name had some effect on Ernald and the others standing within earshot. Angelet didn’t know what special meaning it held. All she knew was that no one had come to her defense in nearly ten years.
Now that defender turned to her. “My lady? What is your wish? Should I press this matter for your sake?”
She looked at the sweating Ernald, picturing him bleeding on a field, and finding a perverse and primal joy in the image. Then she sighed. “No, sir knight. He is my brother by marriage, and I would not wish to be the cause of his death.”
“His own stupidity and rudeness would be the cause,” the knight argued.
“Nonetheless, I humbly beg you to overlook his rudeness and stupidity,” Angelet said. “Trust me, no amount of education will repair those flaws.”
The knight smiled slightly at her words, and Angelet felt a stirring of satisfaction in saying them. For once, there was someone who heard her, if only for a moment.
“I am Sir Rafe,” he said, bowing. “Whom do I have the pleasure of defending?”
“My name is Angelet,” she replied, warmth spreading through her. Up close, the man had truly beautiful eyes, and she found herself blushing at his attention.
“May I defend you through supper, my lady?” he asked.
“Why…yes.” She couldn’t believe he would want to dance attendance on her. She was nobody. “That is, if you wish to spend your evening with a woman of no renown.”
Escorted by him, she walked to her usual seat and sank down on the little cushion placed there.
“I’ve renown enough of my own,” he said, taking the seat beside her. He spoke in such a way that it was impossible to tell if he was joking or not. “In truth, I wish the company of a civilized person for a few hours. The road is not civilized, and I’ve had enough of it.”
“Where have you come from?”
“Most recently, from the south, by way of Ashthorpe. I follow the tourney circuit,” he added.
“The Knight of the Raven. I know that name now,” she said, finally connecting it. “It is said you always win.”
“It is said correctly,” he acknowledged. “Do I offend with my lack of modesty? I’ve never been a modest man.”
“So long as you speak truth, I cannot see how anyone could object.”
“Truth is rarely much appreciated,” Rafe said. “In fact, it usually gets me into trouble.”
Otto and the rest of the family sat, as did the others in the room. Suppers were often large affairs, with many people partaking of Otto’s largesse. Tonight was one of those nights. The mood seemed almost celebratory.
“What brings you to Dryton?” she asked. “Are you just passing though? You mentioned travel.”
“So I did, but the fact is that my companions and I are hoping to be hired for the job Lord Otto needs done.”
“What is that?” she asked.
Rafe looked puzzled, but said, “Someone from Dryton is to be escorted somewhere. That’s all I know. You have not heard of this?”
“No, but Otto does not consult me on such matters. Why does he want to hire outside men? We’ve plenty of men-at-arms here.”
Rafe said, “He may not wish to reduce the ranks of defenders. Though the fighting has quieted down this past winter, it could flare up again, anywhere. These are nervous times.”
“That must be it,” Angelet said, seeing the sense in the soldier’s words. “I know little of the details of the struggle between Stephen and Maud. To be honest, I know nothing.”
“Excellent. Just don’t ask me about it either. I despise politics,” Rafe said.
“Don’t you need to know what’s happening?”
He took a bite of his meal and looked unimpressed. He said, “I used to think so. Now I need only know if the road ahead of me will be affected. It’s all that matters.”
She pondered that. His mode of living was so entirely different from hers.
After a long moment, he said, “The stones around your neck. What are they?”
“Moonstone.” She touched one of the cool jewels. “Have you not seen such before?”
“I don’t think so,” he said thoughtfully, as if trying to recall something long past. “Unusual,” he added, “and beautiful.”
She smiled, pleased he liked them.
Rafe laughed once then, at himself. “To think I missed that opportunity! I’m more tired from travel than I thought. You must pretend I said that they are as beautiful as the woman who wears them.”
Angelet was delighted at the compliment, transparently flattering as it was. “I thank you, sir.”
“It’s a lie, of course,” he added, the charming tone gone from his voice.
Angelet looked down. “Oh.”
“They are not nearly as beautiful as you,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “Even though they are among the more remarkable stones I’ve seen, they are nothing next to you.”
Warily, Angelet raised her eyes to look at him. Which of his statements was she to believe? Or any? Was he teasing her, just like all the others?
“It’s truth,” he said, not looking away.
She swallowed. “You say so?”
“From what I’ve seen just in this room? Yes, I say so.”
Angelet wasn’t sure how to reply, and in any case, it didn’t matter, because Otto stood up and called for attention.
“Everyone, everyone! Still your tongues for one moment, for I have something to tell you all. The dinner you are enjoying is a celebration. I wish to acknowledge someone here: none other than our Angelet.” He swept a hand toward her, and after a moment of surprised silence, the crowd began to clap.
“Yes,” Otto said after a moment. “She is such a part of the manor, and so modest that many might not think of her. But tonight is her night.”
Angelet had no idea what he was leading up to, and leaned forward so as not to miss anything.
“How desolate the manor of Dryton will be, upon losing such a singular person,” Otto went on. “Yet it is time for Angelet to follow her destined path. I am pleased to share with you all some excellent news. The abbot of Basingwerke has agreed to accept Angelet as a postulant. She will be escorted there by these fine soldiers, who will keep her safe until she reaches Basingwerke Abbey. Then she will pass through those gates, to begin her life as a holy nun.”