“Yes, well, women often assume much and instead of simply asking, judge and dismiss.”
“Sometimes they don’t wish to be lied to,” Diana argued.
“I never lied to you.”
She stared at him. In that hedidspeak the truth. Somerton had offered her no promises. He’d never spoken words of love. It was she who had assumed. She had been the fool. “You are correct.”
With that, she turned back to Madam Boswell. “I apologize, please go on.”
The old woman studied them both, calculation in her dark eyes, then continued. “It was the Summer Solstice of 1512,” she continued. “Given this is to be the three hundredth anniversary, I can understand why they grow anxious.”
Lady Boswell took another sip of tea, vexing Diana, who wished to be told the story so that she could leave.
“The day had been long with jousting, feasting, music and celebration, and as the sun finally dipped into the horizon, and the knights deep in their cups, the two found themselves bickering once again. One insult led to another and soon the two were at the edge of the cliff, swords drawn, ready to engage in battle. The one who lived would win Lady Isolda’s hand.”
Yet, they were both dead so something tragic must have occurred.
“A storm was coming in off the sea, but it didn’t stop the two.”
Diana brought a hand to her throat, anxious and not certain she wished to know what happened next.
“Lady Isolda, having heard what they were about, ran to them, begged them to cease, promised that she’d pick one, but they ignored her.”
“As gentlemen tend to do,” Diana sighed.
“Diana,” Somerton ground out in warning.
“I did not give you leave to address me as such.”
He grinned at her, the rotten rogue.
“I rescind it.”
“Would the two of you quit bickering,” Madam Boswell snapped.
Diana ducked her head. “I apologize. Please, go on.”
“Lady Isolda yelled, screamed and begged but it was as if they didn’t hear her and she wasn’t paying attention to her footing.”
The old woman paused to take a sip of her tea and Diana was certain she only did so to try her patience.
“Only the screams as she fell from the cliff brought the two knights out of their combat and they rushed forward to find their love crumbled on the rocks beneath them.”
“Good God! That’s how she died? I’d no idea,” Somerton offered.
“It was then that Sir Orwen and Sir Gilbert turned on each other again, blaming the other for the death of Lady Isolda. They fought without swords, but with hands, fists, wrestling to gain the upper hand to do the other harm until the two rolled off the cliff and to the same death as Lady Isolda.”
“How so very tragic.” Diana was surprised at the overwhelming grief she experienced for deaths that had occurred nearly three centuries earlier. “That still doesn’t explain the curse,” Diana finally realized.
“Because of their bitter animosity, and so little regard for Lady Isolda, the two have been cursed to remain upon this earth until they learn to work together in assisting another maid in finding true love.”
“Why me? Why not someone else?”
“Because, dear Diana, you are the only one who can see them.”
She blinked at Madam Boswell. “How is that possible?”
“You are the chosen one.”
