“What will you tell him when he asks about your face?” Sebille asked.
The truth, of course, Raisa thought but said, “The physician is well aware I am not as steady on my feet as once I was.”
“And what if Lothaire should visit this eve?”
“If you cannot discourage him, the dim of my chamber shall suffice. But unless Lady Laura is so fool to tell him of my attempt to defend myself, I do not think he will come this night.”
“He might on the morrow.”
“Not if the physician advises I am not to be disturbed.” Lothaire would welcome the excuse to stay away, she did not say. “Given a day or two, I should be presentable again.”
The young woman inclined her head. “Rest well.”
“Sebille!” Raisa called her around. “Do not forget to watch her closely.”
“I shall.”
“And her daughter.”
“Her as well.”
Chapter 13
“Where is Baron Soames?”
Sir Angus unclasped his hands from behind his back, came around. “Lady Laura.”
“I told you, Mother,” Clarice said on a sigh. “I saw him ride out at dawn.”
The knight inclined his head. “As your daughter tells.” He started to turn back to the squires he had been instructing in hand-to-hand combat.
“But that does not inform me as to where he is,” Laura pressed.
“Apologies, my lady, but it is not for my lord to give me an account of his whereabouts. Suffice to say he has begun his day’s work and will not return ’til late in the day, mayhap the eve.”
Laura looked past the training yard to the drawbridge beyond the raised portcullis. “What keeps him away so long?”
“The work of wool, my lady. The heartbeat of Lexeter.”
She knew much of the barony’s income was derived from the numerous flocks of sheep she had seen as they traversed the demesne on the day past, and that Lothaire’s acquisition of a wife had taken him long from his duties. But the possibility he could be gone the entire day and into night seemed much for one who oversaw the operations, especially since he had returned so late on the day past she had not seen him again. Rather, she had taken her supper alongside the vacant lord’s seat. Afterward, she had only the company of her pouting daughter at the hearth, Lady Sebille having yet to appear.
“As Baron Soames has been absent nearly a fortnight,” Sir Angus said, “he has much to occupy him.”
And much to avoid, Laura silently added. He had told he was often away from the castle, but now he had greater cause.
“Is there something with which I may assist, my lady?”
She shook her head, causing the loose braid Tina had worked from the left of her brow down the right side of her face to brush the concealed bruise.
The maid had been shocked by her lady’s face. Though tempted to tell it was the result of a fall, for the sake of Clarice, Laura had revealed the truth. Until Lady Raisa departed High Castle, help would be needed to ensure the girl did not expose herself to Lothaire’s mother.
“I thank you, Sir Knight, but I have a missive to write to the queen over which I must consult my betrothed. I suppose it shall have to await his return.”
“I will tell him you seek an audience.”
She blinked. “You do know where he is.”
“Not now, but I know where he shall be near the nooning hour. I am to meet him.”
“Then I shall accompany you.”
He frowned. “My lady—”
“As will I!” Clarice exclaimed.
Laura started to naysay her, hesitated over the expectation shining from a face downcast since her mother had ended her exploration of the inner bailey.
“I am sorry to discourage such adventurous females,” Sir Angus said, “but I must. The work of wool is not for ladies, as I do not doubt your betrothed would agree. I shall convey your message to Baron Soames that he return to the castle as soon as he is able.”
So firm was he that she wavered, but her daughter’s beseeching hand on her arm—the same that had nearly struck her on the day past—made her stand taller. “I shall convey it myself, Sir Angus, even if amidst the work of wool. What time do you depart?”
“An hour hence, but—”
“You would do me a kindness to ensure my horse is saddled alongside yours. An hour, then,” she said and turned away.
She heard a low growl above the squires’ grunts, knew it sounded from the knight rather than the enormous, bedraggled dog lazing alongside the training yard’s fence, but it was naught compared to Lady Raisa’s bite.
Clarice tugged on her mother’s arm. “You will allow me to accompany you?”
Laura preferred she remain at the castle, but after this morn’s encounter, she was loath for Clarice to be out of her sight for long, even though Tina could be prevailed upon to remain near her.
“Mother?”
“A moment.” When they were distant enough from Lothaire’s man not to be overheard, Laura halted—and was surprised to find the large dog at her daughter’s side. Alarmingly, the girl’s hand was on the beast’s neck. “Clarice, you do not know that dog—”
“But I do. I played with him in the hall this morn. He is Tomas.”
As if aware he was the subject of their conversation, the dog turned his eyes on Laura, considered her with what seemed interest, then yawned, revealing the longest tongue and sharpest teeth she had ever seen.
“He is very big and of many teeth, Clarice.”
“Aye, but he is gentle and sweet.” The girl did not have to bend far to kiss the dog’s head. Returning her gaze to her mother, she said, “So I may accompany Sir Angus and you?”
Hoping the dog was as temperate as he appeared, Laura said, “Aye, but we must change quickly.”
Clarice smiled, then frowned. “’Tis an hour ere Sir Angus departs.”
“It was. Now it may be less.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “You think he will leave without us.”
“Very possible. Let us disappoint him, hmm?”
The last time her daughter’s mouth had bowed so wide was when Lady Maude allowed the girl to journey with her to a nearby abbey to present a new altar cloth to show her appreciation for the prayers offered up for her son, Simon. A month later, the lady passed.
Clarice had loved the adventure, unaware it was as personal a journey for her as it was for her grandmother. Laura had remained behind, no invitation wasted on one who would have rejected it as calmly as possible.
“Sir Angus will not like it,” Clarice said with a song in her voice that reminded Laura of when she had been young.
True. The knight would not care to be foiled, nor would Lothaire. But her betrothed was not here to gainsay the one who was done being led where she did not wish to go.
And she was fair certain her cousin, the queen, would approve.