Rosalund and the girls curtsied to the Lady Elizabetha Cartingdon de Lara, wife of the Earl of Carlisle. Known by the childhood nickname of Toby, Lady de Lara was a gorgeous woman with a lush figure and almond-shaped hazel eyes. She was also quite brilliant, administering the earl’s lands and making him quite wealthy. Everyone in the north knew of Lady de Lara’s business savvy and how the earl depended on her. It was also well known that he was madly, deeply in love with his wife. They had a very happy marriage, indeed.
“He is not competing, my lady,” Rosalund said. “We have come to view the spectacle. In fact, my youngest has never seen the games.”
“Is that so?” Toby turned her attention to Abechail, so tiny and frail. “Are you excited for your first tournament event, my lady?”
Abechail was a shy girl, struggling not to be in the face of Lady de Lara, whom she had met before. “Aye, my lady,” she said in a voice barely louder than a whisper.
Toby smiled, a gentle gesture even though she was still struggling with two three-year-old boys. They were putting up a fierce fight.
“Good,” she said, lowering the boys to the ground but still hanging on to their arms. “Your cousin, the earl, has chosen to compete, so it should be very exciting.”
“Where is our lord?” Rosalund wanted to know.
Toby tossed her head in the direction of the tournament arena “At the field,” she replied. “You will, of course, join us for the evening meal, will you not? I am sure my husband would like to visit with Saer.”
“We would be honored, my lady,” Rosalund replied. “My husband will be thrilled to see his cousin again.”
Toby opened her mouth to reply but one of the twins threw himself down on the dirt and began screaming. Toby hauled him up by his arm, smiling wanly at the collection of women.
“It is time for their naps,” she said. “They do not like to rest, but they need it desperately. As do I.”
“They are bright and lively boys, my lady.”
“They are devils.”
With that, she excused herself and half-dragged, half-carried the frustrated twins back towards the large crimson tent. Her departure was rather abrupt but Rosalund understood the need to deal with unruly children. She watched the countess carry the boys away before turning to her daughters.
“Now, ladies,” she said as she took Abechail’s hand. “The tournament will be much more exciting now that the earl is competing. I would say it shall be a very eventful day and now we shall have a feast to look forward to tonight.”
“Mama?” Roxane asked, smoothing her frizzy hair as it began to burst free of the confines of the hat. “Do you suppose there will be any knights or lords at Cousin Tate’s table?”
Rosalund glanced at her eldest. “There might be,” she said. “You are not, perchance, thinking on Sir Kenneth again?”
Roxane stuck her nose up in the air and looked away. “I did not say him.”
Rosalund shook her head, clucking reproachfully as she did. “Your father has told you that he is not interested.”
Roxane went into pouting mode. “Why not?” she demanded. “He is a seasoned knight and a favorite of the king. He is Cousin Tate’s closest friend. Why can’t Father approach him on my behalf? I am a cousin to the Earl of Carlisle, after all. I am an excellent marriage prospect and even though Sir Kenneth is a mere knight, I would consider him.”
Rosalund sighed heavily. “Sir Kenneth is not interested in a marriage,” she said. “Your father already approached Cousin Tate with the suggestion but Tate says Kenneth has many things to accomplish for young Edward and marriage is not agreeable to him at this time.”
Roxane’s lip stuck out. “Do you think he will be here today?”
“I do not know,” Rosalund said. “If he is, then you will not follow him around like a love-sick maid. You will behave yourself.”
Frustrated that the object of her affections since meeting him last Christmas, Sir Kenneth St. Héver, was seemingly uninterested in a romantic match, Roxane turned away from her mother and tried to pretend it didn’t bother her.
Cathlina watched her sister, feeling rather sorry for her, especially since Sir Kenneth had seemed to pay much more attention to Cathlina at the time. It had been a bitter situation and one of contention between the sisters for the months that followed. Cathlina had no desire to repeat that particular circumstance with her sister. For their sake, she hoped Sir Kenneth was far, far away.
Rosalund encouraged her daughters to get moving, taking the lead as she traipsed off the way she had come and headed towards the two smaller tents in the distance that were just starting to lift. The tents were of a non-descript color but someone planted a pole and mounted the small crimson and blue axe banner of Saer de Lara’s house.
As Rosalund moved past the subject of Kenneth St. Héver and began to comment on the feast, what they should wear, and perhaps what gifts they should bring, Cathlina’s thoughts moved to other things as well. Mostly, she was thinking on Mathias and hoping she could escape her family for a few minutes to go and see him. It would have to be a short visit and she would have to outsmart Roxane in order to get away, but she was sure it could be done. She simply had to be clever about it.
Back over their shoulders near the tournament field, a herald trumpet sounded the first of the alerts that would draw the competitors and spectators to the arena. As Rosalund hurried her girls back to their encampment, Cathlina was deciding on a plan.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“You cannot compete,”Justus said, his voice low. “I have just come from the tournament field. The Earl of Carlisle is here and he is competing. He will know you on sight, Mat.”
