Page 14 of An Earl for the Archeress

Mariel gave herself a mental kick. She should have worn a gown, but chances were the good earl wouldn’t notice anything once this specimen of femininity entered the hall.

“Indeed,” Mariel replied, reddening.

“’Twas rude of me to ask.” The woman chided herself. “It’s just such a novelty. I don’t know why a woman as pretty as yourself wouldn’t want the world to see her beauty,” the woman complimented. “Are you employed here, then?”

Mariel shook her head, her simple braid swaying. “His guest. I took ill upon my arrival, and am just now joining his board.” It wasn’t really a lie. She didn’t need to tell the other woman she had arrived at Huntington at the hands of his guardsmen who had thrown her in a tower.

“I see. Come with me. We’ll greet Robbie together. I hope I surprise him.” She took Mariel by the arm like a sister and practically dragged her in.

Mariel did her best not to stumble as they entered the bright hall, torches ensconced along the walls in iron chains, regal tapestries that told a rich family history, and the imposing green, black, and silver coat of arms mounted on the wall over the dais. The rushes on the floor were freshly laid, and the serving girls and boys were busy replacing pitchers and platters as the food was devoured. Savory smells overtook the room, and the people were happy, guards, servants, officials, soldiers, and passersby who had stopped for the night along the road. All were eating their fill.

Except all eyes fell on her. She wanted to extract her arm and give the beautiful woman a shove. There was something confident about her demeanor, something that niggled its way under Mariel’s skin. “Robbie” knew this woman, if the command and ease she demonstrated navigating the room said anything. As they neared the dais, Robert stood.

“My lady!” he called excitedly over the din, looking at her, then his eyes glanced to the woman beside her and did a double take, his smile fading. “Charlotte…it is…unexpected to see you. To what do I owe this occasion?” He recovered as the woman released Mariel and practically ran around the dais and up the steps, throwing herself into his arms.

To his credit, Mariel noted, he did not embrace her back, but rather he peeled her hand from his neck and gave it a polite kiss, setting it down at her side. His eyes snaked to Mariel still standing beneath them as Charlotte stood next to the empty seat at his side and waited with an assuming smile on her lips. He looked at Charlotte, then back at Mariel, then Charlotte again. With a reluctant sigh, he finally pulled the seat out for her.

He looked back at Mariel again, his face blank. The dais was now complete except for a seat on the end…next to Wesley. Mariel rolled her eyes and stifled her groan. Surely there was a better option.

And then Alice scurried by her, giving a satisfied nod.

“’Tis His Lord’s mistress, returned,” arose utterances around her. Now Robert rolled his eyes.

Why the idea of Robert partaking of a mistress unsettled her, Mariel couldn’t say. It’s not as if you actually know him, she scolded herself. Of course, he had a life already in motion when she’d crossed his path. Why would he not? But that would explain why he hadn’t been interested in the whores at the fair. Who would when they had someone as beautiful as the Lady Charlotte awaiting them?

And why had she hoped for the seat of honor beside him? She had been arrested stealing game and was practically a prisoner, not an honorable guest. She shook her head and laughed at her own naïveté. When would she learn that this earl, despite his kindly ways, was simply a selfish arse like all the rest?

“Where should I sit, sire?” she asked, detecting shame upon his face.

Perhaps he really had intended for her to fill the seat beside him. Why, though? Before he could answer, the handsome guardsman from the archery tent at the tournament arrived beside her. Jonathon, she recalled. He had also stood outside her chamber, and Robert had said he had fancied her. For some reason she felt relief at his presence.

“My lady. Would you care to sit at our table? I know it’s not befitting for a lady to sit among soldiers, but considering your options…” He nodded his head toward Wesley, who was looking just as displeased at the prospect of sitting beside her.

She summoned the flirtatious smile she had given him at the tourney and nodded. “I don’t care where I dine, so long as the company is cheerful.”

“Good.” Jonathan grinned, winking. “My table is a rowdy lot, but cheerful folk all the same.”

Knowing Robert was frowning and still watching her, she afforded him no further interest and walked with Jonathan to his table amidst the stares and gossip. She had already resolved herself to leave this night anyway, especially after seeing the well-endowed Charlotte thrust her bosom into Robert’s face.

“So you, my small stitch of a woman, are responsible for that fine show at the archery contest?” Jonathan began as he poured her a goblet.

“Oh no,” Mariel said. “I’ll take an ale. Wine is for those who cannot handle a robust drink.”

The other men around her chuckled, and Jonathan, grinning, knocked back the wine himself then snagged two tankards out of the hands of a passing serving boy. He handed her one.

“Is it true you’re the archer who nearly bested Lord Robert?” asked another man.

“I did not nearly best him. I tied him,” she corrected.

Jonathan swigged from his tankard. “But your skill is remarkable. Especially for a woman. Pray tell how you achieved such mastery.”

She waved a dismissing hand. “My tutor, a priest, taught me by placing figures and words upon a target and told me to shoot what I thought were the right answers to his problems.”

“’Tis incredible,” another man replied.

“Aye, it is, and it taught me to think quickly on my feet as well. But I’ll tell you,” she continued saying, taking another swig and pointing at him as if he were a mate at a tavern. “A woman can learn just about anything a man can learn.” The soldiers began to scoff but she cut them off. “’Tis true. For example, I create a horrible, uneven stitch but can solve figures like the best accountant. Why? Because my tutor never taught me I could not, and I liked it more than needlepoint. But lasses are normally denied such opportunities for being simple-minded, though we’re far from that,” she added, lowering her voice with a conspiratorial lilt and letting her lush lips turn up into a smile.

“Indeed,” Jonathan said. “Women are a most clever breed.”