Page 71 of The Daughters of Avalon
Attached to the belt was a small silver coin purse, and a silver clasp for her keys. Elspeth gasped, for she had never seenanything so fine. Nor had she ever had any coins to put in any such purse. She tried to imagine herself entertaining merchants and opening up her lovely little purse, but couldn’t quite picture it. Perhaps she would use it for herbs? It was so much finer than the one she’d fashioned of Malcom’ssherte. But lord, there were so many keys! Brushing a finger across the filigree, she said, “Art certain I should be wearing this?”
The woman’s head cocked back, like a hen’s. “Why ever not, m’lady? The lord himself bade me give it to you.”
Elspeth lifted her chin, realizing that must be what Malcom had been whispering into her ear.
She nodded, accepting the belt from Cora and tried it at her waist. Cora immediately jumped up to help her clasp it around the back. Once done, she sat back down, and left Elspeth to admire her new possession.
“So lovely,” Elspeth murmured, entirely preoccupied with the shining belt, but then she peered up and gasped aloud at the gown Cora removed from the coffer—a ruby-red brocade trimmed with ermine, followed by a companion cloak to the one Malcom wore. And thereafter, it seemed every dress unveiled was finer than the one before. By the blessed cauldron, it was too rich a bestowal for a girl who’d knelt so short a time ago on dirt floors in order to kindle a fire in her hearth. Rather than wear all these fine gowns herself, it would be so much more rewarding to share a few with her sisters. The very thought of them made her heart sore.
Where were they now? In London, simpering before the king?
Lord, but it galled Elspeth to think such things. But she tried not to think about that, or the reason she was here… because of the sacrifices her sisters had made in her behalf—and in particular Rhiannon, who’d so adamantly insisted Elspeth leave. And regardless, seated before such a plethora of riches, she feltacutely the guilt she’d felt over leaving her sisters behind. By all rights, they should be here with her now, sharing in her good fortune. Saddened by the thought, she nevertheless sat, poring through coffers, putting dresses aside to be fitted and altered, thinking how beautiful Seren might look in this one or that one, and all the while she listened to Cora, eager to know more about the man she’d wed.
“This, too, was Lady Eleanore’s,” Cora explained, handing over a small ring—once again, a match to the one Malcom wore—to the one she now wore about her neck. And she wondered if Malcom knew it existed.
Taking the small ring from Cora, she slid it onto her finger and found the fit to be perfect. It was a more delicate version than the lord’s ring, still it bore the same golden two-headed falcon.
“O’ course,hetook it away fromherwhen he sentheraway,” Cora said.
“He?”
The old maid smoothed a liver-spotted hand across her graying hair. “The auld lord,” she lamented. “If’n ye ask me, the Lady Eleanore was far too good for the likes of him.” She smiled ruefully at Elspeth.
“He wanted a boy, loathed the child he was given. Certain as he was he could never sire himself a lass, he accused the Lady of infidelity and sent her to live and die in a nunnery, leaving his daughter to roam his halls in tatters—for shame.”
Malcom’s stepmother, Elspeth presumed. The girl without a name. She fiddled with her new ring, longing to hear more and Cora must have sensed her interest, because she continued with a wistful smile.
“She was the Lady’s spitting image. Poor little thing, hair so matted ye caudna push a comb through it. I always feared to find birds nesting in that mess.”
Elspeth drew a lovely rose-colored gown out of the coffer, rolling it across the floor, listening to Cora go on about the birds nesting in Page’s tangles. And then, just to be sure, she found herself asking, “So… you keep birds here?”
“O’course, lass! Hens, cocks. The lord himself keeps an aviary with peregrines for hunting.”
Elspeth looked askance at the maid. “Only peregrines?”
“Mayhap a pigeon or two,” she said, shrugging, casting Elspeth a curious glance. And then her stomach growled, and she said with a bark of laughter, “Most birds we tend here are sitting on trenchers.”
Elspeth giggled. So, too, did Cora.
She marveled over the magnificent toiletries, thinking how strange luck should be. Little less than two weeks ago, she’d been worrying over marrying Cael d’Lucy and today she had a wonderful new home to tend to—and incredible gifts to enjoy. But, of course, Cora must assume it was no more than Elspeth’s due as the wife of an earl, but she had no clue how mean Elspeth’s life had been before now. And she wondered idly if Cora would have preferred to have seen all this finery awarded to Lady Eleanore’s daughter. But why hadn’t Malcom given them to her before now? Curiosity got the best of her. “I take it you knew Page well?”
“Well enough… she was my friend,” the maid said.
Friend, Elspeth marveled. How curious. Not for an instant could she ever imagine Dominique considering her reticent maid to be her friend. She had called her sister, perhaps, but she’d treated her more like a servant. And yet, not unkindly, for though she clearly had been brought up to consider her station, she hadn’t had a mean bone in her body.
Elspeth regretted having left so quickly, if only for Dominique’s sake. She’d been so very kind—but forsooth, as generous as Dominique had been, and as lovely as her gifts were,she felt lost now amidst a sea of shining gold and silver and beautiful gowns. She was like a child with awe. “My lord is a generous man,” Elspeth said, surrounded by the proof of it. The old lord might not have cherished or trusted his poor wife, but he had lavished riches upon her whilst she was here.
The woman smiled fondly. “Aye, lass, but lest ye’ve known him so long I have, ye’ll never know the truth of it.”
Elspeth lifted her chin, dangling a silver girdle from her fingertips. “How long?”
Cora gave her a single nod. “Eleven years since he rode through those gates, my dear, but I knew that boy when he was six, brought here by treachery.”
“Treachery?”
“Mean old Henry meant to steal him south to court.”
Startled, Elspeth opened her mouth to speak against the accusation, but closed it again. She pulled out one last gown from the coffer—a sapphire blue with silver appliqué about the bodice—and pretended an interest in the embroidery, running her fingers across the design.
