Jeniver grinned. “It sounds as if she had an entire court at her disposal.”
Courtly laughed softly. “She did,” she agreed. “And she behaved much like a queen would. She was gracious and generous, but she was not afraid to take a switch to you if the situation warranted.”
Now it was Jeniver’s turn to laugh. “God’s Bones,” she said. “That is positively tyrannical.”
Courtly shook her head. “Not really,” she said. “She was a very kind woman. Having lost my mother at a young age, I appreciated her guidance.”
Jeniver’s smile faded. “Then you and I have a great deal in common,” she said. “I lost my mother at a young age, also.”
It was common ground that immediately bonded them. “Do you remember your mother, my lady?” Courtly asked. “I was fostering when my mother died. My memories of her are distant, almost as if I have dreamt her.”
Jeniver understood. “I have very little memory of my mother,” she said. “I was very young when she passed away. It was only my father and me for many years until I met my husband.”
Courtly was feeling comfortable with the conversation and with Lady de Shera. It was very rare when she had theopportunity to converse with women and, as she’d felt almost immediately upon meeting Lady de Shera, she was drawn to the woman’s warmth and kindness.
“We have more in common than you realize, my lady,” she said. “It has only been my father and my younger sister all of these years.”
Jeniver cocked her head curiously. “What of the woman who offered to tend your sister?” she asked. “Who was that?”
Courtly lifted her eyebrows in an ironic gesture that only she understood. “That is my father’s sister, Lady Ellice,” she said. “My aunt and my father do not get on well. They fight constantly. She did not have a hand in raising me.”
There was something both ironic and bitter in that statement but Jeniver ignored it without making it seem too obvious that she was. “I am sure your father did a fine job on his own,” she said. Then, she shifted the subject a bit. “Your name is very pretty and very unusual. Is it a family name?”
Courtly grinned. “It is not,” she said. “My mother named me Courtly Love because she was a woman who was quite enamored with all things romantic and chivalrous. I cannot tell you how much I detest my own name, however. I had always wished for something elegant and lovely, like Elizabeth or Eleanor.”
Jeniver shook her head. “Pah,” she scoffed softly. “Boring names, both of those. Your name is unique and lovely. It is very regal, I think.”
Courtly shrugged, flattered. “My mother chose the name because she said that every woman should know courtly love and thought that the name would bring me great love in my life.”
Jeniver giggled softly. “Has it?”
Courtly immediately thought of Maximus and her cheeks flushed unexpectedly. Startled at her reaction, she looked at her lap, trying not to appear too embarrassed.
“Not yet,” she admitted. “But I hope it will, my lady.”
Jeniver watched the woman, her head lowered with her pink cheeks, and she could see that perhaps the lady was as taken with Maximus as Maximus was with her. The red cheeks, the sudden inclination to demure… it was just a feeling she had. And it gave her great hope for Maximus’ sake.
“Surely you have more than one prospect, my lady,” she said leading.
Courtly shrugged. “I have had suitors,” she said, fighting off the giddy flush that thoughts of Maximus provoked. “Unfortunately, my father is not keen to me having a suitor. He has chased them all away. But I hope that someday there will be a man he will be unable to chase away.”
Jeniver studied her carefully as she delivered her reply. “Do you have anyone particular in mind?”
“Mayhap.”
“Have you considered Maximus?”
Courtly’s head shot up, her eyes wide. “Why… why would you ask, my lady?” she asked, almost fearfully. “I have never… that is to say, Sir Maximus saved my life yesterday and I have the utmost respect and gratitude towards him. I have never indicated anything else.”
Jeniver could see, quite clearly, that she had struck a nerve. Courtly had the same look that Maximus did when the idea of attraction between the two had been broached. She put up her hand to ease the woman.
“I know you have not been improper with him,” she assured her. “That is not what I mean. What I meant was… if Maximus were to call upon you, then I doubt your father would be able to chase him away. No one chases Maximus de Shera away, in any case. He is a fine, noble, and compassionate man, and he is the greatest warrior in England. Aside from my husband, that is. Maximus will make some fortunate woman an excellent husband.”
Courtly was back to looking at her lap as Lady de Shera’s words rolled over and over in her mind. Her fingers were fidgeting but beyond her slender fingers and chapped skin, she could see the dusty, dark green dress that she had been wearing since yesterday. It didn’t smell too much like smoke any longer but it was still rather dirty and worn. She sighed faintly, brushing at the dress.
“I am sure he will, my lady,” she said quietly. “But why should he want to call upon me? Did he tell you how we met?”
Jeniver nodded. “He said he saved your life when your hostel burned.”
