“Father is imagining things.”
“I am going to tell him you said that!”
“Go ahead,” Cathlina scowled. “I do not care what you do. I could not possibly be in any more trouble than I am now.”
“I hope he spanks you!”
Cathlina rolled her eyes and turned away. “You are simply upset because I have a handsome man who pays attention to me,” she said. “You throw yourself at men and they never notice you. Do not blame me because you are as ugly as a toad.”
Roxane shrieked and threw herself across the room, fully prepared to yank out all of Abechail’s careful braiding, but Abechail put up her hands and prevented her sister from making contact with her artistic hairdo.
“Stop it, Roxane,” Abechail pushed her away. “She is right and you know it. You are jealous!”
Roxane’s mouth popped open in outrage. “You nasty little goat!”
She gave a yank on Abechail’s long hair and Abechail came right back and slapped her cheek. Soon, Cathlina was breaking up a fight between Abechail and Roxane, and Abechail was winning. The sickly little sister had smacked Roxane on both cheeks and was going in for a punch.
“Cease, the both of you,” she said, exasperated. She looked at Roxane, struggling for calm. “Roxane, I am sorry if you are upset because we left early but in case you have not yet understood, I am upset that we left, too. I certainly did not want to leave, but I had no say in the matter. You know how Father is when he is determined to do something.”
Roxane backed down somewhat, eyeing her sisters who were siding against her. Still hurt, and huffing, she turned back around for the wardrobe that had vomited its contents out all over the floor.
“’Tis simply that…,” Roxane began, pausing as she picked a dark green brocade off the floor. “There was a knight and he viewed me most favorably. I am not sure how Sir Kenneth will react when he realizes there is competition for my affections.”
Cathlina looked at Abechail, who rolled her eyes. Cathlina fought off a grin. “Is that so?” she said. “I am sure Sir Kenneth will survive. What is the name of his competition?”
Roxane quickly forgot her irritation. “Sir Anthony de Ferrer,” she said dreamily. “He serves the Earl of Billingham.”
“I see,” Cathlina said, moving to help her sister with the green dress because it was tangled up in some other things. “Did you get the opportunity to speak with him?”
Roxane nodded. “A few times,” she said. “It was very brief, of course, for propriety’s sake. I did not want to appear unseemly.”
“What did he say? Does he want to court you?”
Roxane came off her cloud a bit. “Not exactly,” she said. “But he was very kind and courteous. I told him where I lived and he said he would make a point of coming to visit me.”
She seemed quite convinced on the knight’s sincerity, so Cathlina merely looked at Abechail and wriggled her eyebrows. Time would tell. As the sisters began pulling garments off the floor and placing them back in the wardrobe, shouts could be heard from the sentries in the ward.
The girls, with clothing in their hands, ran to the window and jockeyed around to try to gain a better look. Their view cut off nearly half the bailey, including the gatehouse, but they could see the road beyond. On this clear and fine day, they could see a collection of men in the distance. It was clear very quickly that it was an army, heading their way.
The girls fell back from the window and began scrambling. “It is Sir Anthony!” Roxane gasped. “He has come to court me!”
“With an entire army?” Cathlina scowled as she shoved pieces back into the wardrobe. “That is a lot of men, even for you.”
When it occurred to Roxane what her sister meant, she scowled fiercely. “Coming from a reckless and wanton woman, you have no room to accuse me of loose behavior.”
Cathlina threw a balled scarf at her sister, hitting her in the side of the head. “At least I have the opportunity to be reckless and wanton without having to bribe my partner. Only a man in need of alcohol or money would be foolish enough to look at you.”
After that, they forgot all about the incoming army. The fight was on.
*
“You left verysuddenly,” Tate said, eyeing his cousin across the table. “I thought mayhap something terrible had happened.”
Seated in the great hall of Kirklinton, which was a long room built against the wall of the bailey, Saer looked at his cousin over the top of the wine pitchers. He thought on his answer carefully before opening his mouth.
“Cathlina was not herself,” he said. “Moreover, Abechail is a very frail girl. She started feeling very poorly so we thought it best to come home immediately.”
Tate nodded his head but it was clear from his expression that he didn’t believe him. The hall was full of de Lara’s senior soldiers and knights, all having their fill of Saer’s hospitality. Kenneth was there, seated next to Tate, and the big blond knight held a fairly grim expression at this point. They had come out of their way on their travels back to Carlisle and the man wasn’t happy. Mostly, he wasn’t happy at Saer’s behavior but he kept his mouth shut. There was a good deal he wanted to say to the man but couldn’t, for obvious reasons. This wasn’t his fight.
