My Lady Reluctant

Chapter Six

By the time the bishop arose, saying another long-winded blessing that signaled the end of the meal, Gisele was more than ready to seek her bed. It had been a long day, and she was not used to unwatered wine. When she saw the empress stepping off the dais, followed by the men who had eaten with her, Gisele arose also. She was about to tell Manette she wanted to go back to their chamber when she had to stop and cover a yawn.

“None of that, new girl,” Wilfride, who had seen the aborted yawn, reproved. “You must arouse yourself! Her imperial highness does not like her ladies to be dull! In the evenings we attend her until she retires for the night. Come ladies,” she said, gesturing briskly for the rest to follow, and like a ship under full sail, stepped out into the aisle to follow the empress.

“That Wilfride—she thinks because she has been with Matilda since they were girls in Germany, she may lord it over the rest of us!” Manette sniped, as she and Gisele followed behind the rest of the ladies. “Don’t worry, you’ll have a good time. Since it has been fine outside all day, we will go to the garden, and there will be music, conversation and sweets. Then we will assist the empress to bed, and we are free for the rest of the night!”

“All I want to be free to do is go to sleep,” Gisele whispered back. “I rode half the day before arriving at Westminster, you know.” She longed to close her eyes and just think of all the new sights and faces she had seen today—and perhaps of Brys de Balleroy, she admitted to herself, remembering the way he had looked when he had walked away from her.

“Don’t talk like a rustic. You are at court now, and we do not go to bed at the same hour the chickens do! Besides, my uncle wants to meet you.”

She wanted to tell Manette she had no desire to meet de Mandeville, but was afraid she would hurt the other girl’s feelings. Clearly she felt meeting the Earl of Essex was a treat not to be missed.

A slender youth was already picking out a soft tune on a lute when they reached the garden.

“That’s the lutanist Matilda brought with her from the court at Angers, where her husband, Geoffrey Le Bel, resides,” Manette said as they crossed the velvety green lawn. “Does he not play divinely?”

Gisele nodded, wondering if the lutanist was another of Manette’s lovers. She turned to look about her. Red roses and yellow honeysuckle climbed the gray stone of the walled garden, perfuming the air with a heady mingling of sweet scents. Closer to the ground, closely planted rhododendrons formed a hedge of pink. At the back of the garden, pear and apple trees provided roosts from which nightingales sang their evening songs in counterpoint to the lute music.

There were stone benches set at random, and on one of these, cushions had been provided for the empress. Here she settled herself, then directed Wilfride and Rilla to fetch little cakes and more wine for everyone. Bishop Henry chose the bench nearest Matilda and began an earnest, low-voiced discussion with her even before most of the others had found their places. Geoffrey de Mandeville sat down next to Robert of Gloucester, the empress’s half brother. De Mandeville appeared to be listening to something Robert was saying, but his eyes kept constantly darting back to Matilda.

Good, Gisele thought. Perhaps he will forget all about his supposed desire to meet me.

From out of nowhere, seemingly, lackeys appeared with wine and delicate, sweet cakes. Gisele could not imagine eating another morsel after the supper they had just finished, but Manette handed her another cup of wine without even asking if she wanted it.

“Do you come from Rouen, Gisele?” a voice said, and Gisele looked up to see that one of the ladies—Halette?—had seated herself at a bench situated at a right angle from the one which she and Manette occupied.

“No, from the Risle Valley. In fact, l’Aigle Castle sits overlooking the river.” Gisele wished the lady had not asked about her home. Instantly she was homesick, remembering how only a fortnight ago, she and Fleurette had sat in the garden at l’Aigle, sewing two of the gowns she was to wear at court. Now her old nurse was dead and the gown, no doubt, adorned the person of some brigand’s bedmate. She blinked away the tears that threatened to spill over onto her cheeks.

“Ah, but you miss your home,” observed Halette, her eyes full of compassion. “Perhaps you leave behind some sweetheart?”

Quickly, Gisele shook her head.

“Your mother? Your father?”

She would not whine to this well-dressed lady-in-waiting about her uncaring father, or the attack that had taken her old nurse from her! “Nay, I am but tired,” she began, but was unable to find the words to go on.

“I am sorry—I did not mean to make you sad,” Halette said kindly. “But this may cheer you—Her Highness has told me we are to go into London on the morrow! Matilda has decided she needs a milk-white palfrey to ride to her coronation, but doubtless we will not only visit the horse fair, but the markets as well. Wait until you see the wonderful markets in the city! I hope we will visit the goldsmiths. There was a gold ring at one of them that caught my eye….”

Gisele allowed the woman’s chatter to distract her. Mayhap the next day’s expedition into the city would be very enjoyable, even if she had no coin to spend on trinkets. And she wondered how Matilda planned to afford a milk-white palfrey if she had no money for a coronation gown!

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