Page 338 of Historical Hotties
Gisella sighed gently. “I am sure my husband sees it as a duty, as do I,” she said, sadness in her tone. But that sadness was quickly gone as she forced a smile. “At least I have you.”
“I told you, I amnota handsome husband.”
Gisella laughed softly. “Nay, you are not,” she said. Her smile faded as she eyed Sparrow rather hesitantly. “He…heisrather handsome, isn’t he?”
Sparrow nodded. “Verily,” she agreed. “Quite handsome, I would say.”
Gisella thought on the stranger that was her husband with his long, dark hair and pale blue eyes. “It is a pity his manners do not match his beauty,” she said. “I suppose I am not surprised. Men with comely looks are usually the arrogant sort and de Russe is no different.”
“I suppose not.”
“What should I do?”
“There is nothing youcando. You must accept the man for what he is or you will go mad trying to change him.”
There was nothing more to say to that. The fire in the hearth began to blaze and Gisella sent the serving woman for warmed water so they could wash their hands and face. She and Sparrow proceeded to strip off their cloaks and gloves, settling in, when there was a knock on the door and two servants delivered their capcases.
As the room warmed up and the sun rose over the countryside, the women hunted around for their sleeping shifts. With the warmth of the room and with their possessions around them, they began to relax and feel a bit more comfortable. Light chatter bounced around with Sparrow telling another one of her funny stories from her childhood, something about stealing hard-boiled eggs from the cook who, when the thievery was discovered, tried to chase Sparrow down but ended up falling into the pig trough instead. It was enough to bring a smile to Gisella’s lips.
When the serving wench finally brought warmed water with rose petals floating in it, the ladies helped each other wash away the dirt and stress of the night’s ride. Gisella sat in front ofthe dressing table as Sparrow pulled a wooden comb out of the smaller capcase and unbraided her long, dark hair. Running the comb through the wavy tresses, she combed and combed until they shined.
By now, the stress of the night’s events had faded completely and by the time food was brought, most of the unhappiness and uncertainty was forgotten, at least for the moment. There was porridge with honey and raisins, tart white cheese, warm bread with herbs in it, and eggs baked with cream. It was quite a delicious fare and the women delved into it hungrily, eating until there was nothing left. There was also warmed wine watered down with fruit juice, which filled their bellies and made them very sleepy.
Donning their sleeping shifts, they climbed into the massive bed as the sun began to rise over the landscape and the manor of West Court began to come alive as servants and residents went about their business. Their chamber was facing the river, away from the courtyard, so the noise was minimal. Sparrow began snoring the moment her head hit the pillow and Gisella was almost asleep as well when a heavy knock at the chamber door interrupted the promise of dreams.
Sparrow remained sound asleep and snoring, which mean Gisella had to answer the door. With a grunt of frustration, Gisella tossed off the covers and climbed out of bed, shuffling exhaustedly to the chamber door. It was bolted and she threw the bolt and yanked open the panel, fully prepared to snap at whoever had interrupted her attempt at sleep. But the moment the door opened, the unexpected stood in the corridor outside.
Bastian had arrived.
Startled, Gisella opened her mouth to speak but ended up choking on her own saliva. Coughing, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
“My lord,” she said, sputtering discreetly. “How… how may I be of service?”
Bastian gazed down at her. He was visibly weary and sporting a growth of beard, coming in quite dark. His gaze trailed to the interior of the room, seeing Sparrow dead asleep in the big bed. He cleared his throat softly.
“You will come with me,” he said. “My father wishes to meet you.”
Gisella was clutching the top of her shift as if trying to cover up the exposed flesh of her shoulders in an attempt to preserve her modesty.
“N-now?” she stammered.
Bastian nodded. “Aye,” he said firmly, but then reconsidered. The lady looked as exhausted as he felt. “Unless… unless you would rather not. I can tell him that you are asleep.”
Surprised he should make such an offer, Gisella nodded thankfully. “I would be very grateful, my lord.”
He nodded his head and averted his eyes, turning away from the door, but then he suddenly paused as if remembering something.
“Forgive me for disturbing you,” he said.
He didn’t give her the opportunity to respond as he turned away again and took a few steps down the darkened corridor. Gisella watched him, the rather smooth and stalking gait he had, and she quickly reconsidered his offer. She didn’t know why she should, but she did. Perhaps it was because he had been so polite about asking and in offering to lie to his father for her by way of offering up an excuse. There was something about the man that was far more courteous than he had been since they met. Re-thinking her decision not to join his father for a meal, she called after Bastian.
“Wait,” she said, watching him come to a halt and face her. “I… I am awake, after all. I can always sleep this afternoon. Iwould be delighted to join your father for his morning meal. I shall only take a few moments to dress.”
Bastian’s gaze lingered on her. “Are you certain?” he asked. “It would be no trouble to visit with him this evening. He knows that we have been traveling all night.”
Gisella shook her head quickly. “I would be happy to meet him now,” she assured him. “I will only be a moment, I promise.”
She shut the door and bolted over to her capcases. Flinging open the lids, she began yanking out garments, searching for one appropriate to meet new family members in. She came across a pale blue surcoat with long, belled sleeves and a square neckline, and a matching angel-soft, white shift to go with it. Quickly, she pulled off her sleeping shift and donned the white shift and blue surcoat. Fortunately, she chose garments that she could fasten herself and she pulled the fastens tight at the waist, securing the garment. The surcoat was quite lovely and gave her a delicious silhouette with her tiny waist and full bosom.
