Page 17 of Choosing Her Earl at Last
Smiling, Emmeline paid the shop owner, then hurried after her companions. As she turned to exit the market, she saw Martha, the laundry maid, watching her from afar. An uneasy feeling passed along Emmeline’s spine, but she shook it off.
“Rebecca,” she called out after her sister, putting the woman firmly out of her mind. “I am sorry,” she apologized as she extended her peace offering. “I did not mean to be discourteous to your friend. Can you forgive me?”
Rebecca’s eyes lit up in delighted surprise at the delicate silver locket in her hand. “Of course I forgive you,” she gushed as she cradled the gift to her heart.
Emmeline smiled, relieved that her sister’s fondness for gifts had not changed. “Shall we return home and play a game together?”
Rebecca’s smile broadened to a grin. “There is no need to return home. I had already arranged a game for us here at the market in celebration of your return.”
“Oh?” Emmeline asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“You remember how much fun we used to have with father and his riddles,” Rebecca stated mischievously.
“I do,” Emmeline confirmed.
“I created a riddle and made all of the arrangements with help from Mr. Hardy. If you answer the riddle correctly, then there is a gift for you at the end,” Rebecca explained, her eyes sparkling with challenge. “Louisa can help you.”
Louisa nodded good naturedly in agreement. “What is the riddle?”
“Forget not thy lady love, whose heart was won upon first waking, her glove a token of grace and beauty, upon which I have sworn my fidelity.” Rebecca’s eyes twinkled with challenge as she relayed the riddle.
Emmeline and Louisa exchanged an amused look, then began to dissect the riddle as they searched the market. “Forget not thy lady love,” Emmeline murmured as she searched the neighboring stalls, “whose heart was won upon first waking…”
“Her glove a token of grace and beauty, upon which I have sworn my fidelity,” Louisa finished, tapping her gloved hand on her chin in thought. “Tokens were given to knights during tourneys,” she mused. “I did see a woodcarver whittling chess pieces earlier. Perhaps he has a knight?”
Emmeline nodded. “Perhaps,” she agreed. “Shall we go and see?”
Louisa smiled in agreement, and the three women reentered the market in much better spirits than when they had departed. Upon arriving at the woodworker’s stall, they did indeed find two wooden knights.
“I see the knights, but I do not see evidence of a lady love,” Louisa noted. Pursing her lips in thought, she searched the woodworker’s assortment of carvings. “I do not see anything resembling a lady at all, or a glove, for that matter.”
Emmeline shook her head. “It is seldom so simple as solving one line of the riddle to find the answer. Each stanza of the riddle must be taken into account.”
She turned around in a circle, taking in the surrounding environment. “Forget not thy lady love, whose heart I won upon first waking,” she tapped her fan against her reticule. “Why does that sound familiar, as if I have heard this story before?” She searched her memory for anything that might be of help.
“Le Roman de Perceforesthas a scene regarding a sleeping woman, but I would not think that to be an appropriate tale for an innocent,” Louisa noted doubtfully.
Emmeline shook her head. “That is not it. It is something far less sinister than what befell that unfortunate soul. That has naught to do with love.”
Louisa agreed. “What then?”
Emmeline stood whispering to herself. “Forget not…” She breathed out slowly as a group of customers moved down the street, revealing a stall with gloves and other sundries.
Emmeline grabbed Louisa’s hand, and they hurried together over to the stall. Their eyes scanned the table of wares, but once again there was no sign of a lady love. Emmeline turned, frustrated but determined.
As she stared down the street, going over the words in her mind, her eyes fell on a brightly colored stall. “Forget not…” She moved almost by instinct toward the profusion of colors. “Forget me not,” she announced in jubilation, as her eyes took in a nosegay of the tiny pale blue perfect blooms.
“Yes,” Rebecca laughed in delight, letting Emmeline know that she was on the right path. “Keep going!”
“There is a legend attached to these flowers,” Emmeline stated as she picked up the nosegay. “There once was a knight, Sir John, who was called away to battle. Filled with sorrow at his leaving, his lady love, Lady Mary, gifted him a bouquet of these blooms to take into battle with him. Her parting words are how the flower gets its name.”
“What did she say?” Louisa asked, intrigued.
Emmeline thought back to when their father had told them the tale.“Forget me not, my love, for these flowers will bloom forever, just like our love.”
“That is romantic.” Louis nodded in approval. “What happened to them?”
“Sir John died in battle, and the flowers returned upon the wind to Lady Mary informing her of his demise.”
