Page 42 of The Daughters of Avalon
Her crimson dress was generously laced with silver threads. Her pale-red hair fell into two rich copper plaits at either side of her lovely face, interwoven with glittering ribbons that caught the torchlight. Her long red sleeves flowed gracefully behind her, like the wind catching at a flame, and the white of herchainsecontrasted like purest snow against the blood-red of her surcoat.
Whatever Malcom might have anticipated… she’d surpassed his expectations by degrees, and he could but stare… mouth agape… blinking at the sight she presented.
“Elspeth,” he whispered with awe.
Only remembering himself belatedly—and the simple fact that he should not be so much surprised, considering she was meant to be his wife—he rushed across the dais to greet hisbride, like a man, indeed, besotted.
Chapter
Seventeen
Even at this distance Elspeth recognized the look of approval on Malcom’s face, and it took her breath away. “You see my lady,” Dominique said, leaning close to whisper. “I havenever, everseenanyman look at his lady that way. I only hope I can be so fortunate someday.”
Malcom stood tall on the dais—taller than any—looking very noble, standing beside the lord’s table, with his long sun-kissed hair unbound and curling about his swarthy face. He smiled with those full lips, and she blushed and gave her new friend a timid glance. “I hope so, as well,” she said for Dominque’s sake, and then she was suddenly overly pleased with herself, though she hadn’t any true reason why. Everything about this evening was false, including her place at Malcom’s side.
And yet, for the first time in Elspeth’s life, she felt like a princess, in truth, and all her troubles were swept aside. Never in her life had she been treated as a guest of honor.
In her father’s home, children were not to be seen. They took their meals altogether, apart from the rest of the household. And then, at the priory, no one ever had any special treatment—not even the monks. For their part, she and her sisters had beenrelegated to a single table, but they were not to take their repast until the men were all finished and left the hall.
At the moment, she felt like her sister Matilda, all bedecked in finery, and she wanted to run to the dais and hug Malcom—for what, she hadn’t any clue.
Alyss took her leave of them as she had a seat reserved among the lower tables. But there remained two places available at the lord’s table, one on either side of the seat of honor.
Dominique would be seated to the right of her lord brother; Elspeth would be to his left, sharing a trencher with Malcom… herhusband.
For the moment, even the simple fact that she must be seated beside William Beauchamp did very little to dampen her mood. Tonight, with so much reverie, it was easier to hope that she had been mistaken about the lord of Amdel. Here in this room alone, the colors were like the dazzling lights of Caer Arianrhod—the Moon Goddess, who shone her night rainbow from her palace up on high. It was only after seeing that Malcom stood to greet them that Amdel’s lord rose as well. However, whilst he sat again very quickly, Malcom skirted around him, never taking his eyes off Elspeth, and came to procure her hand, kissing her sweetly, before leading her to her seat.
Elspeth’s heart beat so fiercely that she feared he would hear. The blood rushed through her temples like the swoosh of a waterfall.
“As ever, my… love… you are stunning,” he murmured so smoothly and silkily, and Elspeth’s breast filled with a halting breath. She swallowed as he turned to Lady Dominique, “Demoiselle,” he said pleasantly. “Art lovely this evening.”
“My Lord Aldergh,” Dominique returned with a smile, and her eyes gleamed with excitement as she turned to meet Elspeth’s gaze, winking—as though to say:I told you so.
Feeling flushed, Elspeth sat, but only after Dominique did, and Malcom remained standing until both women were seated, before assuming his place beside her.
That small courtesy was entirely lost to William, who then turned to Elspeth in his seat before greeting his sister and said, “I trust you slept well, Lady Aldergh?”
“Quite,” Elspeth said with a nod.
“My sister’s gown appears to have been fashioned especially for you,” he said, with undisguised admiration. In fact, he lifted his chin to peer down Elspeth’s gown, at the curve of her bosom, and she shrank back, leaning into Malcom, taking comfort in his proximity.
“Thank you,” she said.
The lady Dominique seemed to have no inkling about her brother’s rudeness. She smiled brightly. “I, too, have never seen a lady so fine!” she announced, with such genuine sincerity that Elspeth flushed to her toes. And from that moment on, the night passed like a dream.
If the vittles provided to them upstairs had seemed lean, the table before them was laden. There was, as Dominique claimed, a great big sow, and a fat pheasant, as yet untouched, with a great many plates surrounding it—including nuts, cheese, olives and bread. In truth, Elspeth had never seen so many elaborate dishes, with so many sauces, and she barely recognized most.
Also, the trenchers at the lord’s table were not made of bread, but wood and Elspeth complimented the setting and the meal, assuming the responsibility for its planning had fallen to Lady Dominique as the provisional chatelaine of this house.
Of course, Lady Dominique was delightful, and there was little she did or said that left Elspeth to wonder over her sincerity or generosity. And, for the most part, her brother comported himself well enough, if not a true gentleman.
Beside her, Malcom remained quiet and brooding—and may the fates forgive her, but whereas Elspeth shrank back from Beauchamp’s gaze, she found herself puffing her breast whenever she caught Malcom’s gaze, hoping he would glance. It gave her a singly perverse pleasure to tempt him—and why shouldn’t she? He was the one who’d claimed they were already wed, and of course, Beauchamp would expect a wife to be coy with her husband.
At any rate, Elspeth’s people were not prudes. She was a maiden still, but not because she feared coupling. She had been taught to revel in all that made her a woman. In fact, her ancestors were pagans, who, rather than be ashamed of the act of creating life, had been taught the act was sacred. The greatest gift to bestow upon the world itself was a child of her womb.
Of course, at the priory, they’d been forced to cover themselves in shame, but neither she nor her sisters had ever forgotten her grandmamau’s words:We are not placed on this earth to ask forgiveness for our sins, we are here to honor the Goddess with our gifts.
Right now, Elspeth felt a hunger in her womb, and she dared to revel in it… if only for the evening. She dared to love the way Malcom’s gaze lingered… and found herself breathless as they shared the meal.
