Christopher put his hand on Curtis’ cheek in an affectionate gesture before going about his business. The men parted ways, each going to attend to his duties, each one looking forward to what life was to bring them. For Christopher, it was returning home, but for Curtis…
He had a wife now.
And he was rather looking forward to it.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Two Months Later
Brython Castle
“Iam goingto do this one more time,” Myles said loudly to the group in front of him. “Listen to what I tell you and do exactly as I say. Am I clear?”
Elle and Curtis nodded. So did Melusine, Asa, Hugo, and Andrew, Alexander’s son. Andrew had seen sixteen years, but he was a big lad with his father’s black hair and his mother’s gray eyes. The women around Brython, especially the younger women, thought Andrew de Sherrington was quite the handsome lad. Rounding out the group was Westley and the most recent addition to Brython, Douglas de Lohr.
Douglas was the brother between Myles and Westley. At seventeen years of age, he had been fostering at Blackstone Castle in Norfolk, home of the House of Summerlin. Douglas had been there for a few years, and prior to that, he’d been at Thunderbey Castle, seat of the Earl of East Anglia, a cousin to the House of de Lohr. But his father had all of his sons home, except for Douglas, and sent for the lad a short time ago. Douglas returned to Lioncross Abbey, a skilled warrior with his father’s size but the curse of arrogant youth.
Christopher had sent him up to Brython to help his elder brother.
Even now, Douglas stood across from Westley, who was three years younger, and frowned because he did not have a female partner. He was beautiful and blond and far too good looking to be paired up with his gangly, smelly younger brother. He didn’t want to be paired up with Andrew, either, because Andrew was direct competition for young women’s affections. Curtis and Myles knew this, and even now, Douglas was eyeing Melusine because, other than Lady Leominster, she was the only female in this particular group.
It was a dance group.
Eight weeks since the fall of Brython had seen quite a bit happening when it came to the inhabitants and the drama that tended to follow them. New knights and others had joined Curtis’ ranks, and everyone seemed to have settled down admirably, including Melusine. The bitter, sometimes conniving cousin of Lady Leominster had found some peace in her new role at Brython, and that included a fondness for a certain man named Asa. The sentiment was returned, something that made Melusine think that the English weren’t bad after all.
Astonishing how one’s opinion could change in the face of a new love.
The only thing that wasn’t dramatic, however, was the relationship between Curtis and Elle, and Elle ruled Brython with an iron fist. It had taken her some time to know, exactly, where and whom to rule, but she was getting the hang of it. The army was no longer her concern, but her husband’s, leaving the keep and the kitchens to Elle.
She was learning every single day.
And that included this dance lesson. But Douglas wasn’t cooperating very well, virtually ignoring Myles, so she steppedup and clapped her hands together quite loudly to stop the bickering the younger men were doing.
She looked straight at Douglas.
“You,” she said imperiously. “Stop complaining and do as you are told. If you do not, it will ruin this dance, and I shall be very upset with you. Is that what you wish?”
Even Douglas knew not to cross paths with his brother’s wife. “Nay, Ellie.”
“What did you just call me?”
“I meant nay,LadyLeominster.”
When they were in public as they were now, she wouldn’t permit the younger knights or squires to address her informally. Douglas, conceited that he was, ignored that rule often, and the last time he’d done it, she’d discreetly stepped on his toe and nearly broken it. Therefore, he was more inclined to obey the rules these days. She smiled thinly.
“Good,” she said. “I should hate to be cross with you, Douglas. You might come away missing an eye, and no woman wants to marry a one-eyed man.”
Douglas knew she was jesting, but not by much. As Curtis and Myles struggled not to laugh, everyone settled back into their positions, facing one another. Myles began to clap his hands in rhythm.
“And now we go forth,” he said loudly. “One, two, three, four. Left hand to left hand as you pass by one another. That’s good. Turn around and go back the other way. Just like that. Douglas, put your hand up against Westley’s or I’ll send Lady Leominster over there to make sure that you do. Ah, good lad.”
They were twirling and pairing off in a dance that was a type of folk reel. It was the fourth dance that Myles and Curtis had taught Elle, because Myles in particular liked to dance. The man was virtually humorless, harsh most of the time, and a knight to the bone, but he had a secret love of dancing and was a goodteacher. As long as no one complimented him, he was willing to do it. But the second someone mentioned dance to him, he’d stiffen up and refuse to discuss it because dancing was only for women.
So Myles said.
“Why must we do this?” Douglas muttered unhappily. “You can teach the dance without all of us present. Why must we dance?”
Myles was still clapping rhythmically. “Because your brother’s dear wife has never danced in a group before, and we are helping her learn,” he said. “Stop complaining and just dance.”
