Vesper was starting to flush again, her cheeks turning hot. “I am not, my lady,” she replied, praying this woman would move to another subject. Not wanting to take the chance that she wouldn’t, she sought to change the focus herself. “May I ask when your child is due to be born?”
Any mention of her baby and Celesse was more than willing to speak on it. She forgot about the unmarried lady at the table and beamed as she rubbed her belly.
“Early next year,” she said. “Calum wishes to return to Scotland to present the babe to his father, who is the Constable of Scotland. Have you heard of him? His father is the Lord of Westmoreland.”
She said it proudly and Vesper shook her head. “Alas, I have not heard of him, but that is a very prestigious association,” she said. “Was your husband born in Scotland, then?”
From Vesper’s other side, Val spoke. He found he simply couldn’t keep out of a conversation with Vesper involved, not even when the subject didn’t directly concern him.
“Calum was born in Scotland but he has spent most of his life in England,” he said. “He does not sound like a Scots, nor does his brother, Hugh. Calum, what has become of Hugh as of late? He used to visit us quite often because we are on the road between Winchester Castle and London, but now we never see him.”
The women were pushed out of the conversation completely as Calum replied. “He has been with Henry in Winchester as far as I know,” he said. “But my father has also been ill so it is possible he has returned to Scotland. I am not for certain.”
Val’s gaze lingered on his friend. “I told you that you could return to Scotland, too, to see to your father.”
Calum shook his head, looking at his wife. “I do not want to take the chance that I will not return before my son is born.”
Val understood his point of view, but his thoughts inevitably turned to Scotland. “I would like to return to Scotland someday,” he said. “I always thought I would like to live in the north. It is such a wild place but it is also a place of such beauty. Have you ever been north, Lady Vesper?”
Vesper shook her head as the conversation swung back to her. “Never,” she replied. “But I have heard it is quite lovely.”
“Then mayhap you should ask your husband to take you there for your wedding trip.” Mayne suddenly entered the conversation from across the table. He’d been staring at Vesper through the entire conversation with something more than polite interest. “I must agree with Celesse. I cannot believe that you are not married or at least betrothed. What fool has allowed you to get away from him?”
Vesper had never been around so much flattery in her life. She was certain her cheeks would be a permanent shade of pink after this. But before she could answer, Val stepped in.
“That is a rather impertinent question, don’t you think?” he asked Mayne, frowning. “You will apologize for being rude.”
There was a flicker of jealousy in Val’s eyes, which surprised Mayne. Still, in hindsight, he shouldn’t have been surprised. Lady Vesper was quite lovely, something that wouldn’t have gone overlooked by Val. He had an eye for pretty women. Opening his mouth to plead the lady’s forgiveness, Mayne was interrupted when Vesper lifted a hand to him.
“Apologies are not necessary, truly,” she said to both Val and Mayne. “Lady Celesse also suggested disbelief that I am not betrothed. I suppose it is true that, at my age, I should be, but it does not distress me that I am not. I have had a very good life at Eynsford Castle as a confidant of Lady Eynsford. My life is very full with my duties and I have not felt wanting in any fashion, truly.”
Val and Mayne were both looking at her, both of them thinking nearly the same thoughts– a beautiful, accomplished woman who was not already spoken for was a prize, indeed. Val knew simply by looking at Mayne what the man’s thoughts were because he had the expression of a hunter about him.
But Val wasn’t about to let Vesper fall prey to the man.He is interested in her, Val thought. He was grossly offended by it.
“I would be very interested to hear of your duties at Eynsford,” Val said, leading into a much more pleasant line of conversation instead of her lack of a betrothal. “Do you hope to return someday?”
Vesper nodded. “I would like to,” she said. “Lady Eynsford would like for me to continue attending her. I have been her ward for so long but she would like for me to be one of her ladies, which would be a tremendous honor. It is through her that I have learned so many things, but I am particularly fond of sewing and music. Whenever Lady Eynsford requires something new to wear, she always has me produce it for her.”
She seemed very proud and Val was impressed. “That is an exacting skill,” he said. “You must be excellent.”
“I do like to sew and create garments.”
“And the music?”
“I have learned to sing and accompany myself on aclavichordium,” she said. “Lady Eynsford had one brought all the way from Italy and, although she did not know how to play it, I was quite fascinated by it. She gave me permission to playit and, soon enough, I learned how to. Lady Eynsford was very pleased.”
Val’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before leaping to his feet and taking her by the wrist.
“Come with me,” he said quietly.
Vesper had no choice but to follow as he practically yanked her from the table. Val ignored his mother calling after him as they disappeared into the rear of the great hall where there was a wooden staircase that led to the minstrel’s gallery above. In truth, Vesper hadn’t even noticed the minstrel’s gallery, a loft on the north side of the vast hall, until Val had pulled her up the staircase. Even then, the gallery seemed to be more for storage than anything else.
There were old trunks, an old wardrobe, and other things, neatly arranged but quite obviously forgotten up in the darkened gallery. Val led her to the balcony where the gallery overlooked the hall, coming to a halt in front of something that was covered up with a great length of canvas made from hemp. It was dusty from not having been disturbed in quite some time and Val had Vesper stand back as he yanked the canvas away.
Dust flew up in the air but beneath the fabric sat a smallclavichordium. It was quite small, built as a boxy wooden cabinet on four spindly legs that, at one time, had been highly polished. Now, it was lonely and forgotten. On the plate above the ivory keys were the wordsAurelius Cato AnnoMCXXXIXetched into the plate, perhaps once painted with gold paint. It was difficult to tell because time had faded away some of the gold, but in all, it was a magnificent piece. Vesper was enchanted.
“It is beautiful,” she said softly as she bent over to inspect the old keys. “Is it yours?”
