Page 6 of Raven's Rise
“But you endured, my lady, and Hubert returned home in time for his wedding.” He broke off then, probably recalling that Hubert hadn’t lived very long after his return home. The look on Lady Katherine’s face suggested she remembered all too well.
“I do miss my Henry,” Angelet said, with a grateful nod to Katherine. “More than I can say.”
“Finish the cloth, Angelet,” Otto grunted, and left the room. Lady Katherine patted Angelet’s hand before following in his wake.
Angelet closed her eyes and hot tears slid down her face. She hated it here, and everyone here hated her.
“God save me,” she whispered.
An image came to her—a familiar one, one she’d seen many times since the visions first began. It was strangely comforting, though in truth it wouldn’t sound so if she described it out loud. She saw a great light, bright but not harsh, and somehow both pure white and a deep, royal purple—an inexplicable phenomenon that she explained to herself by deciding that in heaven colors were seen with the soul, not the eyes. It was a warm, gentle light, and in front of whatever the source of the light was, she saw an outlined figure, nothing more than a black shadow in the shape of a person. She did not know if it was male or female, and it did not matter. The figure never moved or spoke, yet she felt calmer every time it appeared to her. An angel, she thought. A personal guardian to watch over her during the worst times, when she was rendered helpless from the crippling after-effects of her visions. She never named it. She never dared.
But she was overjoyed when it appeared again. “Oh, thank God you’ve come,” she whispered, her voice no louder than breath. “I’ve no one else.”
The figure did not respond—it never did—but Angelet felt surrounded by love, and within moments she could breathe normally again.
Chapter 3
As instructed, Angelet worked diligentlyon 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 preciselygood. 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.
