And he was sorry.
“I hope you are at least comfortable in the garment,” he said. “The truth is that I did not come here to tie dresses or spew unwelcome flattery. Last night, we found a woman hiding who told us that she was your cousin. Do you have a cousin here at Brython?”
Elle’s eyes widened. “Melusine?” she gasped. “I do! Is she well?”
Curtis wanted to hear confirmation by name, and now he had it. “She is,” he said. “She and your brother slept in another tent last night, but I will have her sent to you if that pleases you.”
Elle was nodding before he even finished. “Aye,” she said. “Please.”
He went back to the flap and summoned a soldier, sending the man with a message for his father. He also summoned someone else, and Westley burst through the tent flap, eager to do his brother’s bidding. Curtis indicated for the lad to clean up the tent a little, and the young man went to work, picking up and tidying up as Elle stood back and watched him. As Curtis went back over to his table and began to busy himself with a few things, the squire summoned a few soldiers, and soon, the tent was swarming with them, removing the bathing pot and the remains of the meal.
Elle realized she was unnerved with so many English soldiers close to her. As the men moved about, she backed into the side of the tent, as far away from them as she could go. She was unaware that Curtis was watching her, and, realizing she was becoming frightened, he went to stand next to her.
“I’ve not yet introduced you to my squire,” he said, snapping his fingers at Westley, who rushed to his side. “This is my youngest brother, Westley, who happens to be my squire. But do not let his youth fool you—he is a very competent warrior, even if he is at the age where he is so annoying that I want to toss him over a cliff. West, this is Lady Elle ferch Gwenwynwyn. She is a princess of Powys and will be afforded all due respect.”
Westley bowed politely to her. “My lady,” he said. “It is an honor.”
Elle wasn’t sure how to respond, for two good reasons—the first was that she wasn’t used to being around men who were so mannerly. The second was that she wasn’t used to being referred to as a princess of Powys, true though it might be. Being around Curtis elevated her from a woman ignored by her family to a woman whose noble blood was acknowledged and respected. She’d never been trained in the art of conversation, or in being polite when introduced, or anything of that sort. She felt uncomfortable and embarrassed, so much so that all she could do was nod unsteadily to the squire.
It was all quite strange to her.
Curtis must have sensed it. With a slight nod of his head, he sent Westley away, thinking it might relax Elle a little, but she still looked uncertain. Cagey, even. He sought to ease her.
“He will not bite you, I promise,” he said quietly. “West is a good lad. You need not fear him.”
She shook her head, perhaps a little too quickly. “I do not fear him,” she said. “It’s simply that… You said he was your youngest brother?”
“I have five.”
“And… and you like them all?”
Curtis’ eyes glimmered with warmth. “I love my brothers dearly,” he said. “I would kill or die for any one of them, a thousand times over.”
She stared at him a moment before sighing heavily. “I do not know how that feels,” she admitted. “I have one brother, and we have always been at odds. And your father… It is clear that you love and respect him.”
“I do.”
Elle could feel her eyes sting with tears, and she had no idea why, but she turned away from Curtis, pondering a world in which a family actually loved one another.
“I do not even understand how that would be,” she said before she could stop herself. Tears filled her eyes. “My father hated me, and I hated him. I hate my brother. No one loves me except Melusine, and that is because she has no one else either. Is there really a world in which a family is truly a family and everyone gets on with everyone else?”
Curtis could hear the pain in her voice, and it touched him. She was giving him some insight into a woman who was quite an enigma so far. “There is indeed a world where that is not only possible, but probable,” he said. “I live in that world. You are to be part of it, too.”
She looked at him sharply, quickly wiping away the tears that were starting to fall. “They will not love me,” she said defensively. “I am the enemy. I am a symbol of something they’ve spent their lives fighting against.”
Curtis was careful in his reply. “They will not hold you responsible for that,” he said. “My lady, I am going to try to explain this to you, so listen carefully. It is important.”
“Go on, then.”
He did. “My older sisters are both married to men who had lives before they joined our family,” he said. “Neither man was perfect. One man… Well, he is a trained assassin. Alexander went on crusade with King Richard and earned himself a fairly nasty reputation. In fact, my father did not want him for my sister at all, but she loved him… and once he became her husband, we all grew to know the man beyond the reputation. He is one of the finest men I know. So you… If you give my family the chance, they will look beyond the Welsh rebel and see the woman beyond the reputation. They will want to like you. You must give them that chance.”
Elle’s hands were on her cheeks as she thought of that very shocking prospect. “I cannot even imagine that,” she said with sincerity. “And you? What relationship am I to have with you? Do you want to like me, too?”
He grinned. “I hope so,” he said. “But you must give me the chance. You must look beyond the English knight and see the man beneath.”
That was an astonishing bit of advice and insight. Her hands came away from her face, and she looked at him with as much honesty as he had seen from her since the beginning of their association.
“I do not know how,” she said. “I am what you see. I do not know anything more than what you see. And I do not know how to see more than I already do.”
