He had no love for me.
The other two men were strangers. One appeared to be late middle-aged and the other was in his early thirties.
A table stretched out in the center of the hall, laden with goblets, fine pewter plates, and a centerpiece of the last of our autumn roses.
Beside me, Lady Giselle drew a long breath as her face transformed into a welcoming smile. She took my arm, and we swept into the vast room.
“Gentlemen,” she said, approaching the group of five. “Forgive our tardy arrival.”
This was a polite but expected comment. Women of her station never arrived at a formal dinner before her guests. It was the lord’s duty to meet them.
Both strangers turned to offer a greeting, but at the sight of me, the words froze on their lips.
I was not taken aback, as this was a normal response from anyone seeing me for the first time. My lady assured me that it was due to my unusual coloring. I was small, slender, and pale-skinned, but my hair was so blond that she called it “silver” and my eyes so crystalline blue that they seemed to glow against the pale background. Once, Lord Jean had shivered as he studied me and said, “She looks like a winter morning.”
I had long wished for dark hair and brown eyes.
Lady Giselle was accustomed to men going speechless at the sight of me, and she pretended not to notice their half-opened mouths. “May I present our ward, Kara.”
Lord Jean flinched slightly at the term “ward,” but I was the only one who noticed.
Turning to me, Giselle motioned to the men with a graceful hand. “Kara, this is Lord Trey Capello and his son, Lord Royce.”
Lord Trey must have been past fifty, but he was slender and striking, with light brown hair and a close-trimmed beard. He recovered himself quickly, kissing first her hand and then mine.
“My ladies,” he said. “We’ll be blessed with your company at dinner.”
Somehow, he sounded sincere, and I began to relax a little. Perhaps I would be required to only nod and smile and not answer any difficult questions about my identity.
But Royce did not recover so quickly and continued to stare, running his eyes over my face and silver-blond hair. He bore little resemblance to his father, taller and more muscular with sandy blond hair and a clean-shaven face.
I hoped he would not try to engage me in conversation, as I was not nearly so skilled as my lady and had little experience in talking to men.
“Shall I ring for dinner so that we might sit?” Giselle asked.
Lord Jean nodded to her, and we gathered at the table. To my relief, I was seated between Geoffrey and Lucas. I didn’t know them well, but they had long grown accustomed to my appearance, and neither would expect me to talk.
Unfortunately, Royce was seated directly across the table and although he’d stopped staring, he continued glancing in my direction.
A number of servants entered the hall carrying trays of food and decanters of wine.
Wine was poured, and the fish course was served. I was not fond of wine but tried to sip politely.
“You understand I wish to buy the entire two hundred acres?” Lord Jean asked after swallowing a bite of trout.
This was the reason for the Capellos’ visit. For nearly three centuries, the noble de Marco family had boasted one of the most renowned vineyards in the nation of Samourè. They grew mainly white grapes, but of late, demand for white wine had been waning, and Lord Jean had long coveted a large piece of undeveloped land just off our southern border—and on the Capellos’ northern border. Both its soil and its positioning were perfect for growing the purple grapes of dark red wine.
I’d learned all this information from my lady. To date, the Capellos had never responded to any of Lord Jean’s offers, but…it appeared the land somehow belonged to Royce and not to his father, and now, Royce might be willing to sell. They’d been traveling, visiting other nobles, and we were their last stop on the way home.
Lady Giselle had impressed upon me the importance of this meeting.
Lord Jean could not accept failure in these negotiations.
His question about the two hundred acres hung in the air. Royce didn’t answer, but he was again staring at me.
“My son?” Lord Trey asked.
Royce turned his head to look down the table at Lord Jean. “Let us talk of business over breakfast. The ride was long today, and for tonight, I’d rather dine and speak of less weighty matters.”
His voice was deep and possessed a serious quality that suggested he rarely made jokes. I knew that he and his father would be spending at least one night with us, as their own manor was a full day’s ride south.
Lord Jean’s jaw twitched, but he nodded. “As you wish.” Then he looked to Lady Giselle. “Time for the next course, I think.”
* * * *
Somehow, I made it through dinner and dessert without being required to enter the conversation. I made certain to pay polite attention to all that was said in regards to crops and taxes and other matters men tended to discuss over dinner, and I smiled whenever Lucas or Lord Trey said something amusing—for they were the only men in the group disposed toward humor.
Finally, at the end, I breathed in quiet relief that the women would be excused so the men might switch to a stronger port wine and play cards.
Lady Giselle was a woman of flawless timing, and at the precise moment, she rose. I stood quickly.
“Gentlemen,” she said, “it has been a pleasure. Kara and I will leave you to your amusements, and I shall see you at breakfast.”
All the men stood in respect, and the two of us turned to leave, heading for the archway. I looked forward to a quiet night of either reading to her aloud or perhaps telling her a story from memory (which she loved) or playing at chess or working on our embroidery or hearing her thoughts on how Lord Jean might approach Royce in this land deal.
“My lady?” Mistress Duval, our housekeeper, came to the archway just as we reached it. “Forgive me, but the cook fears we don’t have enough eggs for the breakfast that was planned. Could you come and approve a new menu?”
“Of course.”
Lady Giselle was a woman who oversaw every detail of the running of her household. Normally, breakfast menus did not require approval, but we all knew the importance of this meeting. Everything from the guest rooms to the food had to be perfect.
Turning to me, Giselle said, “My dear. You go up, and I’ll come soon.”
“Yes, my lady.”
She turned and swept down the east corridor for the kitchens. I headed for the west stairwell, so that I might ascend to her private apartments where she would meet me.
I’d walked only about six steps when a voice sounded from behind.
“Wait.”
The voice was deep and possessed of a serious quality.
As I turned, my stomach again tightened at the sight of Royce walking toward me. Desperately, I looked down the east corridor, but my lady was gone, and I was alone with Royce. He strode to me with purpose. Facing him, my eyes were level with his collarbones, which were visible through the V-neck of his tunic. I did not look up at his face.
“Who are you?” he asked bluntly.
Despair washed through me. I would not escape the evening without answering questions.