Page 43 of The Knight's Pledge
Gorman was not beside her when she woke up, but he was in the small, low-ceilinged chamber, washing his face.
“Is it late?” she asked, raising up on one elbow.
“Early,” he said before drying his face and beard with a snowy white cloth. “I could no longer lie still and I didn’t wish to wake you.”
Effie pushed the thin, hard pillow double and laid the side of her face against it. “Everything will befine, Gorman.”
“I know.” He wrapped his belt about his waist. “I’ll just feel better when we have word. Distracting our friend Lucan should do much to occupymy time today.”
Effie could see that he was anxious—perhaps she was the only one in the family who could have seen it. But she let it go, allowing him to change the subject. “You’re takinghim with you?”
“I doubt he’ll be left behind, nosy as he is.”Gorman smiled.
Effie smiled back. “True. Besides, I don’t know if he should be left alone here in case the message should come while we’re out.”
Gorman seemed surprised. “Do you think he’d raise the hue and cry?”
“Don’t you? It would be his duty to the king.”
Gorman seemed to think about it. “I don’t know that he would. Perhaps we’ve not given Sir Lucanenough credit.”
“Oh, his headis plenty big.”
“No, I don’t mean praise.” Gorman came and sat on the side of the bed, and Effie instinctively tucked her feet beneath his hip. “He’s been on the trail of Thomas Annesley for years, Effie. If Lucan’s only concern had been the king’s pleasure, he could have dropped everything and chased him down. Instead, he kept on with alerting all the sons, and even petitioned the king on Padraig’s behalf.”
“What he wants is Castle Dare returned to him,”Effie reasoned.
“Of course he does. And why shouldn’t he? The man’s been without home for a score of years.”
“With Vaughn Hargrave for a patron all the while. I’m surprised that you of all people should accepthis striving.”
“I’m surprised you of all people should condemn him for it,” Gorman said gently. “None of us under God’s heaven had any say at all about the manners of our births. If I could claim a hold, secure a future for George, I would do itfor you both.”
Effie felt ashamed. “I’m sorry.”
He leaned forward and kissed her temple. “Naught to be sorry for. Let’s go have some of Mari’s sweet porridge—I’ve missed it.”
* * * *
Lucan left the White Swan on the heels of the group only at their insistent urging. Only Chumley was staying behind, still abed as usual. Lucan knew either they wanted to keep an eye on him in the village, or there was something at the anomalous inn they didn’t want him to see.
Probably both.
But he had to admit that he was curious as to their intentions, and so he trailed about the paths and stalls, enjoying the sunshine and the noise of the crowd. It was market day, fortune of fortunes, and Lucan did not remember the little cluster of dwellings beyond the White Swan beingso prosperous.
All manner of things were for sale, despite the late winter season. Hardy storage foods such as squash and roots and cabbages; game meats from the woods; dried fish; grains and flours. There were woven arts and cloth, pots and utensils and implements for the household and farm. One little girl had a reedy basket of kittens who wrestled and tumbled so within that they overturned their cell many times over.
Dana was inspecting between large hands lengths of beautiful, vivid scarves from a stall, causing Lucan’s brows to raise in relief—a womanly purchase if ever there was one. But then Dana picked up an old, dented helm, admiring it at length before passing payment to the merchant.
Dammit.
The neighboring stall to the one Dana departed offered a variety of miscellaneous items, from jewelry to single shoes to rolls of scraped, reused parchment. Lucan hung back at the corner of a stall across the path and watched as the red-headed Bob approached the merchant, seeming to peruse the wares. Lucan waited for the moment when Bob would slip this or that into his palm and away, but to his surprise, when the owner of the stall drew near, Bob opened his pouch and held forth some unknown object for the man’s inspection.
Lucan wandered closer for a better look as the merchant picked up first one then another of what appeared to be jeweled hairpins from Bob’s palm, holding them this way and that in the bright sunlight. He nodded and then handed over a coin to the red-headed man before they shook hands and parted ways. The merchant at once laid the hairpins on the oiled piece of leather covering the bench of his stall, arranging them precisely for sale.
Not stealing—selling. Stolen items themselves, likely.
Kit Katey and Winnie caught his eye next, further down the path, as the beautiful Asian woman stooped next to the basket of kittens. Kit’s face and hair were covered by a veil, and Lucan wondered if she was wary of being recognized or simply didn’t wish to be stared at for her striking features. She tilted her face up toward Winnie, and the gray-haired woman made a series of signs. The little girl minding the basket unhooked the latch and reached inside to withdraw one of the balls of fluff, holding it out to Kit Katey, draped over her palm like a limp rag. The innocence of the scene struck Lucan and a strange feeling came over him as he watched the young woman nestle the tiny creature to her face.
