They shared a moment, briefly, before separating. There were too many people about and the nature of their relationship was still too new for blatant public displays of affection. Besides, Matthew did not want to create a spectacle for gossip-mongering servants.
As he moved to retrieve a small case that had been set on the floor, Luke and John were suddenly in the door, making their presence known by kicking aside one of the chairs that was too close to the entry. It crashed to the floor, taking a small table with it. Alixandrea frowned at the brothers, moving to right the table as John steadied the chair.
“You two are a pair of wild bulls,” she said. “You must be more careful.”
John grinned contritely while Luke, oblivious, went straight for Matthew.
“Much is going on, Matt,” he said, his tone laced with quiet urgency. “The king would see you now. Gaston is already with him.”
Matthew handed the case over to his wife. “You have been here a matter of minutes and already you know this?”
“Richard saw you come in through the gate,” Luke replied.
At that moment, Mark’s head popped into the doorway. “Matt,” he said. “We’ve been summoned.”
Matthew glanced over at his dark-haired brother; they were back in professional mode, the disturbances of earlier in the day forgotten.
“So I have been told,” he said. He looked at Alixandrea, standing a few feet away with the case in her hand. She had been listening to the conversation. “I am afraid that I will have to leave you alone for a little while. Will you be all right?”
She nodded. “Of course. I have much unpacking to do.”
“Good.” His easy smile returned, briefly, and he gave her a wink. “Make sure that you do not leave this chamber until I return for you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I ask this. Please.”
There was something in his tone that precluded further argument. Alixandrea nodded her head, watching as her husband and Luke quit the chamber. John followed them out, giving her a small wave as he did so. She waved back and the door closed, leaving the chamber oddly still. There had been so much commotion just a few moments before that the sudden stillness was unsettling.
It took her a moment to get herself moving, realizing there was a lot of work to be done and no Jezebel to assist her. She had no idea where Caroline was. But standing just to the left of the chamber door were two female servants, workers at the Tower. They stood there, uncertainly, obviously waiting for direction. She put her hands on her hips.
“Who are you?”
The first maid, a tiny woman with gray hair and very few teeth, bowed sharply. “Ann, m’lady.”
The second woman, not quite so old and a little plumper, did the same. “Mary Joan, m’lady.”
“Are you responsible for these chambers?”
“These and the three other Wellesbourne chambers when the lords are in residence, m’lady.”
“Very well,” Alixandrea said crisply. “As Lady Wellesbourne, you now take directives from me. Help me to get unpacked, and quickly, for I have a busy night ahead.”
The women flew into action, an organized assault on the cases still left in the main chamber. They picked up what they could and disappeared into the door adjacent to the hearth. Alixandrea followed them into the smaller chamber beyond;there was a massive bed frame with only a mattress, a large wardrobe against the wall, and little else. Compared to the sitting chamber, the room was fairly plain but comfortable enough.
“We’ve not yet had the chance to make your bed, m’lady,” Mary Joan said. “We only learned of your arrival a short time ago.”
Alixandrea waved her hand at her, unconcerned. “I have no need for the bed at the moment. It can wait. But I do need to unpack and find my gold brocade surcoat.”
The women nodded, throwing open the trunks and cases and beginning to lay forth garments to be put away. Alixandrea moved to help, but realized they were efficient in what they were doing. They did not need her help. In fact, they looked rather confused when she made the attempt. Not the least bit offended, Alixandrea wandered back out into the sitting chamber.
After a few minutes of drifting around, inspecting every piece of new-found furniture, she poured herself a measure of sweet red wine from the decanter in the corner and planted herself in one of those magnificent chairs. Feeling somewhat like the Lady of the Manor, deposited into affluence she had never before imagined, she settled down with her wine and her chair to enjoy the rest. It was just coming to dawn on her what being the wife of The White Lord of Wellesbourne would truly mean. And the thought was overpowering.
The next she realized, the sun was set, the room dark, and Mary Joan was waking her from a deep sleep.
*
“Henry has notyet left the shores of France, though all intelligence tells us that it is imminent. I fear what this summer will bring.”
