The Dragon Lord's Daughters. Bertrice SmallЧитать онлайн книгу.
curious.
“I was advised to, but it would not have been honorable,” he told her quietly. “And as you have brought the subject up, I would have you know that I am a patient man, Averil. And this is neither the time nor the place for our cojoining. When we get home to Everleigh we will discuss the matter.”
Unable to help herself Averil put her small hand on his big one, and looked up into his face. He was very handsome, she thought, but not in the pretty way that Roger Mortimer was. “Thank you,” she said softly.
“You have green eyes,” he noted with a small smile.
“All my sisters do, but Maia’s have a hint of emerald in them, and Junia’s are a dark green. Your eyes are silvery blue. They are very pretty,” Averil said, and then she blushed again.
“Your father says you have a temper, but also a good heart,” he told her.
She nodded. “I do.”
“You are honest,” he said with another smile. “I have seen your temper.”
“I try to be fair, my lord,” Averil answered him.
“Do you want to join the festivities?” he asked.
“Perhaps we might share a cup of wine,” Averil suggested, “but I really am so very tired, my lord. I want nothing more than a good night’s sleep in a real bed, or on a mattress before we must spend our days traveling home, and our nights on the hard earth.”
“Agreed,” he said.
He found a servant who brought them a large goblet of wine mixed with potent, honied mead to share. It was very strong, and to her embarrassment Averil found her head spinning. Her legs began to give way beneath her, but Rhys sensed it. Catching her up in his arms before she fell, he cradled his new wife, surprised by the feelings she aroused. Calling to a servant, he asked to be shown the way to the solar where Averil was staying. With the servant going before him he climbed a flight of narrow stairs. Averil’s eyes were closed, and she was murmuring softly. She was indeed very lovely, Rhys thought. Perhaps he had not gotten such a bad bargain after all. And there was silver as well as kind in her dowry. Silver could buy him his own land, and more silver could be made breeding the sheep and cattle her father was giving him. Nay, it was not a bad bargain at all. If they could learn to get on, then all would be well.
Arriving in the solar he said to the serving woman sitting by the fireside sewing, “The lady is indisposed. Where am I to put her?”
“Ah,” the woman said, “the Dragon Lord’s child. Lay her upon that small cot by her pack, my lord. Is she all right?”
“Two sips of wine with mead,” he told the servant. “She is very tired. Our journey has been long, and tomorrow we must return home.” He set his burden down where he had been instructed. Taking the little chaplet from her head, he laid it aside.
“Poor lass,” the servant replied. “I will look after her, my lord.”
Reaching into his pouch Rhys drew forth a coin. “Thank you,” he said, pressing the large round copper into the woman’s hand. Then he left.
When Averil finally awoke it was daylight again. The solar was filled with chattering women. Her gown had been eased, and her slippers had been removed from her feet. Her mouth felt very dry, but before she could even sit up a serving woman was at her side with a cup of clear water.
“Drink it all, child. There is a potion in it to restore your energy, which has been badly drained,” the woman said, and cradling Averil’s shoulders she helped her into a half-seated position, putting the cup to her lips.
“How long have I slept?” Averil wondered aloud.
“Why, all of last night, and into this morning,” the servant said. “The first mass has already been said, and they are breaking their fast in the prince’s great hall.”
“I must get up!” Averil exclaimed. “We are leaving today.”
“You should rest, lady,” the woman responded. “You are very pale.”
“I am always pale,” Averil replied, and she drank the potion down.
“Are you of the Fair Folk, then?” the woman asked.
“They say I have an ancestress who was one of them,” Averil told her.
The servant nodded. “Aye. Every few generations it is said the strain reappears in a son or a daughter, lady. Very well, I will help you.”
Averil asked for a basin of water, and while she waited for it to be brought to her she removed her good gown and tunic, packing them away with her chaplet and shoes, changing into a tan gown and brown tunic, and a sturdier pair of leather shoes for riding.
She bathed quickly, scrubbing her teeth with a rough cloth, and wove her long golden hair into a thick, single plait. She set a sheer cream-colored veil over her head, fastening it down with a chaplet braided with brown silk and gold threads.
“I will bring your pack and your cloak to the hall, lady,” the serving woman said.
Averil looked distressed. “I have no coin to reward you,” she said regretfully.
“Your man did that last night, lady. He was generous,” the serving woman said, smiling. “Go along, now. When you need them, your possessions will be brought to you.”
“Thank you,” Averil replied, and she hurried off to the hall to find her father and the others. The others. Her husband. She was a married woman now. And he had been kind last night. She wondered if he would continue to be kind.
Her father found her first. “Hurry and eat, daughter,” he said. “We want to be off Anglesey and onto the mainland before midday. Where is your husband?”
“I don’t know,” Averil said. “He brought me to the solar and left me last night.”
Averil sat down at one of the tables below the high board. A servant slapped a hollowed-out trencher before her, and filled it with oat stirabout. Another servant gave her a piece of buttered bread, and set a cup before her.
“Wine, ale, or cider?” he said.
“Wine,” Averil told him. The hair of the dog to calm her belly, and her nerves. She ate slowly. Her father had disappeared again, probably seeking the others.
“You slept well?” Rhys FitzHugh had seated himself by her side. “Wine,” he told the attendant serving man.
“Yes, my lord, thank you,” Averil replied.
“Good! When you have finished your meal we will ride.”
“Did you have a good night, my lord?” Averil asked him.
He grinned. “Roger and I got very drunk,” he began. “What happened after that I do not know, but I woke up on a hillock in a meadow outside the castle.”
Averil reached out and drew a piece of grass from his dark brown hair. “I think, my lord, that my bed was more comfortable.”
“As would mine have been if you were in it,” he said softly.
“You promised!” she cried, flushing.
“And I will keep that promise, Averil,” he assured her. “I have merely remarked that a man sleeps better with a woman by his side.”
“I have never even kissed a man,” she told him.
“Good!” he told her. “Then mine shall be the only lips you ever know.”
“Do you want to kiss me?” she demanded to know. “You but touched my forehead with your lips after we had been wed yesterday.”
“If you want to be kissed, Averil, I will kiss you,” he said.
“If I must ask you then it is not worth it,” she told him quickly. “I am finished with my meal.”