Page 38 of The Trials of Alaric
“Dost juggle, lad?” The old man asked, and made a wheezing sound that Alaric figured, after an alarmed moment, was a laugh.
“One ball at a time,” Alaric answered promptly. “If that.” Miss Radcliffe and the woman had disappeared, taking the basket with them.
The old man wheezed another laugh. “Ye’ll have to tell a tale, then,” he said. “Tell it me, lad, and I’ll give ’ee a report.”
Alaric laughed and complied, making a story out of a hunting trip hosted by the Portuguese Court, that the British delegation had attended. He was just completing the story with the words, “…chased by the alligator,” when the man’s daughter and Miss Radcliffe returned.
“Da” was cackling so hard that it set him coughing, and his daughter had to thump him on the back before he could say, “Tell ’em that one, lad. I nigh wet meself, and so I did. Tell ’em that one.”
“Miss Radcliffe and Mr. Redhaven need to go now, Da,” their hostess shouted. “’Ee, but he enjoyed your visit, Mr. Redhaven,” she added in a more normal tone, as she ushered them out of the house.
“It was nice of you to entertain Mr. Whittle while I chatted with his daughter and grandchildren in the kitchen,” said Miss Radcliffe to Alaric, as they drove away.
“I hope,” said Alaric, “if I grow to be that old, someone will visit and tell me stories of far-off places and make me laugh.”
“‘I nigh wet meself, and so I did,’” quoted Miss Radcliffe in an uncanny imitation of the old man’s tone, and then blushedbright red. But he laughed to let her know he appreciated her skills of mimicry, and she should feel no shame.
Miss Radcliffe was not the staid demure cipher she appeared on the surface!
On the next two visits, they were met by children, who hovered politely but impatiently as Alaric lifted the basket from the rear of the gig and carried it inside for the woman of the house, who had been attracted by children’s shouts.
At both houses, Miss Radcliffe talked to the mother while Alaric did his best to entertain the children. The first house was easy enough. The boys who greeted them had abandoned a game of knuckle bones when they arrived. After receiving a biscuit from the basket, they were happy to usher Alaric outside and let him join their game.
He hadn’t played since he was a boy himself, but the skill quickly returned, and when Miss Radcliffe emerged from the house, he was showing them some of the tricks he had learned years ago, when he used to play with Tarquin and the stable boys.
He was more at a loss at the next house, where they ran to daughters. However, he worked on the principle that even such small morsels of femininity would respond well to being asked what they wanted to do, and soon found himself being taught how to skip. His efforts—exaggerated to amuse his audience—had them collapsing with laughter, until they took pity on him and “taught” him to make daisy chains instead, so that he was wearing a crown of flowers with Miss Redcliffe emerged from the cottage.
Some thought teased at him throughout the visit, and as they drove away, it coalesced. “What do women want?” he declared.
Miss Radcliffe must have thought the abrupt question was intended for her, for she answered, her voice crisp. “It depends on the woman, Mr. Redhaven. Is this about Bea?”
He shot her a smile. “Indirectly. It is a legend from the court of King Arthur. Sir Gawaine and the Loathly Lady. The knight goes on a quest to find out what women want. Now all I need to do is to find a statue or a painting that illustrates the legend.” In the legend, the knight was offered the answer to his question, in return for which he promised to marry Dame Ragnall, a spectacularly ugly lady.
“Oh, I can tell you that,” Miss Radcliffe replied. “That is, if a tapestry will do? There is one in the little parlor on the second floor of the Tudor tower. It has three panels. Gawaine and his ugly bride, with his friends all mocking him. Gawaine and his lovely bride in the night, where she explains that the curse that made her ugly is half broken, so she can be beautiful for half of any twenty-four period, but ugly for the rest. She tells him to choose. In the third, Gawaine has his beautiful bride on his arm, out in the light of day, and his friends are all amazed and envious.”
Yes, that was the story, and an interesting selection by Lord Claddach.
“Thank you,” Alaric said. “You know about the treasure hunt?”
“Yes. Bea told me. I take it you have just figured out one of the clues.”
Alaric nodded. “With your help, Miss Radcliffe.” It had to be the answer to the riddle for in the story, the woman, Dame Ragnall told Gawaine “Their own way,” meaning women want their own way. On his wedding night to Dame Ragnall, Gawain discovered she wasn’t ugly but had turned into a spectacularly beautiful woman.
Asked whether he wanted to spend his nights with a beauty or show his lovely wife off to his mocking friends, Gawaine remembered, “What do women want?” and told Dame Ragnall to make her own choice. His choice to lethermake thedecision broke the rest of the spell, and she remained ravishingly beautiful day and night.
So, Alaric decided, when asked what do women want? He would answer, “to make their own choices.” It was a lesson worth remembering. And, it reminded him a bit of Bea, a woman who certainly knew her own mind and who would always want to make her own choices.
He mused on this as they drove into a little fishing village. “The next house is Eamon Gorry’s,” Miss Radcliffe disclosed.
She sounded tense, and Alaric looked at her more closely. “The one with the drunkard father and the overworked mother?” he asked.
“That is it. You are a good listener, Mr. Redhaven.”
Alaric managed not to shrug, which would have been ungentlemanly, but he was uncomfortable with the praise. He merely paid attention. People were more interesting when one paid attention.
“Are we likely to have trouble?” he asked.
“That depends on whether Gorry is at home, and how much he has had to drink,” she replied. She then looked him up and down, as if assessing his strength and size. “He would be a fool to take you on, Mr. Redhaven. You are at least half as big again as him, and twice as fit. If he is rude and belligerent, I shall rely on you to deal with him. Bullies attack the weak, and you are certainly not weak!”
