The devastation Adonis felt, for Kevin and for Thomas and for Annavieve, was unfathomable.
*
Pleading illness, Mimsyhadn’t attended the feast at the meeting hall that night. Deeply upset over what had happened with Annavieve earlier in the day, she had been wandering the streets of Longcross, pondering both her past and her present. Her thoughts kept moving to Rhodri ap Gruffydd, the man she had loved so deeply those years ago. She had dreamed of a life with him and with their children, but it was not to be.
Their daughters, however, had at least found some happiness as fine women in English houses. Annavieve was even a duchess. She felt very poorly that her conversation with Annavieve had gone so badly, but she somewhat understood the woman’s position. She hoped that, with time, Annavieve might be able to forgive her for choosing Vietta over her. Even now, Vietta was inside the great meeting hall, undoubtedly enjoying attention from fine young knights, and Annavieve would be there with her husband.
Mimsy finally decided that she would go to the meeting hall so she could at least see her two daughters in the same room. It would probably be the very last time she ever witnessed such a thing and she tried not to feel sad over it.You did what you had to do, she told herself firmly.The time for guilt is long past. With thoughts of Annavieve and Vietta on her mind, Mimsy turned a corner and was confronted with a big man with gray hair dragging Annavieve down the darkened road. She even saw him hit her.
Shocked, Mimsy fell back into the shadows to watch the man as he continue to drag Annavieve down the avenue, heading in the direction of a few taverns, including the Cock and Bull where Mimsy had visited Annavieve earlier.
Mimsy soon came out of the shadows, watching the struggle as it moved down the road, her heart in her throat. She was utterly horrified at what she was seeing, realizing that the big man was the Duke of Dorset, Annavieve’s husband. She recalled that she’d seen the man in the lists earlier in the day. As Mimsy continued to watch, the duke slapped Annavieve again and the woman stumbled, only to be yanked to her feet as the duke continued his march down the road.
It was a vicious hit. Seized with panic, and with the motherly instinct that she had always had towards her children, she started to follow with the intention of stopping the duke from slapping her daughter. She didn’t even stop to think that he could do with her as he pleased. All Mimsy could see was that the man was striking Annavieve and there was no one around to help her. Although she did not know the reasons behind the duke’s behavior, surely they were not justified. It was a cruel and beastly man who would hit a woman.
Now she was infuriated as well as panicked. She scurried after the pair as they headed down the avenue, following them far enough to see that he was evidently taking Annavieve to the Cock and Bull. She paused. What could she do against the duke? He was a strong man. He had men all about him to defend and protect him. What could she possibly do alone? She needed help. She needed someone who cared for Annavieve, someone who was young and strong and willful. She needed the woman who owed Annavieve something.
Vietta had been the chosen one all her life. She had lived a golden life beneath the roof of Lioncross Abbey whilst Annavieve had essentially been caged at a convent deep in the Norfolkwilderness. Perhaps it was time that Vietta knew who, exactly, she was. She knew Vietta well enough to know that the woman would put Annavieve’s life over any shock or bewilderment she might feel at the truth of her humble origins. Vietta was made of very strong things, that girl.
You are the daughter of a Welsh prince and the last of the Marshals….
Aye, Vietta would understand. She had to understand, because Alys, the mother, now needed her, more than she had ever needed her in her life.Annavieveneeded her. The time had come for total and utter truth because, as far as Alys could see it, a life was at stake.
Her daughter’s life was at stake.
There was no time to waste.
Mimsy found Vietta in the smoky, loud meeting hall, chatting with two eligible suitors under the watchful eye of Lady Agnes. When Mimsy appeared, unexpectedly, Lady Agnes seemed to be relieved because she wanted to enjoy herself and watching her daughter all night was quite a task. Vietta was very sociable and lovely, and had more than her share of male attention. Now, with Mimsy’s arrival, Lady Agnes could turn the responsibility of Vietta over to the old nurse.
Mimsy, of course, was happy to accept the responsibility. As Lady Agnes watched, Mimsy went over to Vietta where she stood near the edge of the table in animated conversation, and promptly hustled the young woman away from her admirers. Lady Agnes grinned as she thought of Vietta being scolded by the prim and proper Mimsy. She collected her cup and turned her attention to her husband. Little did she know that a scolding was the last thing Mimsy intended to do.
A family secret was about to be spilled.
Out in the avenue in front of the meeting house, Mimsy grabbed Vietta by the wrist and pulled her across the street, intothe shadows and away from the people who were milling out in front of the hall, laughing and drinking in the fresh air. Irritated, Vietta yanked her hand away from the old woman.
“Mimsy!” she said unhappily. “What in the world is the matter with you? I thought you were ill!”
Mimsy held up a quieting finger. “Hush, now,” she said, her voice low and her manner edgy. “I do not have time for your foolishness, Vietta. Something very serious has occurred and the time has come for total truth between us.”
Vietta frowned. “Total truth?” she repeated. “What on earth are you talking about? Mimsy, whatever is the matter with you?”
Mimsy held up a hand to quiet her. “I do not have time to delicately phrase what I am about to tell you,” she said. “You must listen to me carefully and understand that everything I am about to tell you is true. Lady Agnes and Lord Myles will confirm this. It was something we were never going to tell you but I find a situation has arisen and I must have your help. It is desperately needed. Do you understand what I have told you so far?”
Vietta was less irritated and more curious by now. “What is wrong?” she wanted to know. “Has something happened?”
Mimsy thought on how she was going to tell the young woman the truth about her birth and the reasons why her help was now needed. It was a lot to take in, she knew, but she had faith in Vietta. She had to.
“Something indeed,” she said quietly. “Vietta, you already know that almost nineteen years ago you were born at Lioncross Abbey Castle. Lady Agnes was there for your birth, as was Lord Myles, as was I. What you do not know is that it was not Lady Agnes who gave birth to you. It was me.”
Vietta’s eyes bulged as shock rippled through her. “You… you…what?” she gasped, hands flying to her mouth. “Why… why would you say such things?”
“Because it is true.”
Vietta’s mouth flew open, outrage and astonishment filling every vein in her body. “I cannot believe it!” she gasped. “Nay… I willnotbelieve it! It is not true!”
Mimsy wasn’t surprised at the denial but she had no time for such things. Before Vietta could run off, perhaps to even tell Lady Agnes and Lord Myles what Mimsy had told her, Mimsy grabbed the girl by the arms and forced her to still.
“I would not lie to you,” she hissed. “I have never lied to you, Vietta, and you know it. Whether or not you believe me, you must listen. Something is happening and I need your assistance. Your sister needs your assistance.”
