She practically kicked Jezebel from her palette by the door, demanding the woman rise. While she brushed her teeth with a frayed, green hazel stick and a mixture of rose-flavored soda, Jezebel stirred the embers in the hearth into a soft glow and then began to throw open the capcases in search of suitable clothing.
Stick still in her mouth as she continued to brush, Alixandrea rummaged through the piles that her maid had extracted from the bags and settled on a pale blue lamb’s wool sheath with a darker blue sleeveless surcoat. They weren’t particularly impressive, but they were comfortable, durable and appropriate. Whilst investigating the filthy kitchens, halls, and other corners of the male-dominated keep, she did not want to have to worry about mussing her fine clothing. These were functional clothes.
After her teeth, she washed her face and hands in a basin of rosewater, hooting when the water was a bit too cold for her liking. Jezebel dried her off quickly and stood her in front of the warming fire to dress her. The first garment on was the soft blue sheath, fitting against her body like a glove and clinging softly to every delectable curve. The whale bone corset was next; Jezebel tied her into the contraption so tightly that she begged for release, just enough to breathe. The surcoat went over the top of that, secured at the back with a large sash that Jezebel fussed with until she had the perfect tie. The little maid then put her mistress’ hair in two braids this day, neat and pretty and unfussy.
Dressing complete, she was more than ready to face the great mysteries of Wellesbourne. Jezebel tried to stop her fromleaving the chamber unescorted, but Alixandrea would not listen. She did not want to be a bother when she could very well find own way around. Never once did she question her safety, which she probably should have, but her curiosity had the better of her. Everything was new and exciting.
Quitting the small chamber, she entered the dark, cold stairwell and descended to the third floor. She noticed there were two additional chambers on this level; one door was closed and the other was slightly cracked. Curious, she peeked into the barely-opened door and caught sight of a very messy, very odorous chamber. It smelled as if something had crawled into the room and died. The fireplace was cold and black. Nearly out of her line of sight was the corner of a bed and she could see that something was tied to the post. Peering closer, she noticed a foot.
Curious, not to mention slightly concerned, she pushed the door open a few more inches and was able to gain a clear view of the stripped bed. A man lay upon only the ropes that supported the mattress, his arms and legs bound to each post. It took her a moment to realize that it was Adam Wellesbourne.
She shoved the door open and entered the room. The old man lay with his eyes closed and she thought he was sleeping. Greatly troubled as to why he was captive, she leaned over to make sure he was at least uninjured. He did not seem to be, but he smelled like vomit. That was where the horrible stench in the room was coming from. She was about to untie one of the bindings when his eyes abruptly flew open.
“My lady,” he blinked, surprised to see her. “What… what are you doing here?”
“I was passing by and….” She was more concerned for him than she was interested in explaining her presence. “Areyouall right? Have you been injured?”
“I am not injured.”
“Then why are you tied like this? Who has done this to you?”
The first binding fell away and his right arm came down. Most of the circulation had gone out of it and he feebly tried to move the limb around as she went for the bindings on his feet.
“Matthew,” he said. “But it is not as it appears.”
Alixandrea froze, her eyes widening. “Sir Matthew tied you up?”
“Aye, but he had to.”
“Hehadto?” Her distress was turning to outrage. “What do you mean by that? He had to tie you to your bed, with no food and no fire? What kind of cruel, barbaric man is your son that he would do this to his own father?”
A foot came loose and he moved his leg around to regain the blood flow. “There are things that you do not understand,” he said as his other leg became free. “In time, things will become clear. In time you will understand.”
It was an evasive answer. It only served to infuriate her, perhaps because she thought now that her impressions of Matthew’s gallantry and benevolence were only a myth. The man who had shown her such kindness was apparently the Devil in disguise. It was a sickening thought and a frightening one. She had been living on giddy dreams for the past several hours. It was horrendously disappointing to think that those dreams were about to turn into nightmares.
The sounds of big boots suddenly echoed in the doorway, sounding flat and hollow against the planked floor. Her fingers on the last binding, Alixandrea looked up to see Matthew standing in the doorway.
He had a shocked expression on his face. Startled, and more than afraid, Alixandrea moved away from the bed.
“You…” she hissed at him.
Matthew’s brow furrowed. “What are you doing here, my lady?”
Alarmed, angered, she made a dash for the hearth and picked up the closest thing she could find, which happened to be the shovel. It wasn’t much of a weapon but it was the best she could do. She rushed at him, wielding it in front of her.
“Get away,” she growled, putting herself between Matthew and his father. “Get away from him or I swear that I shall fight you to the death.”
Matthew wasn’t sure what was going on and put up his hands, slowly. “I am unarmed, lady. Why do you threaten me?”
“Why do you tie up a defenseless old man?”
“Ask him.”
“I did.”
“What did he say?”
“That you tied him up. Why would you do such a thing?”
