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“Bryce!” he shouted and heard a chair scrape back against the floorboards in the next room. He waited as he heard his assistant’s feet pad across the floor and then the door creak open. “My lord?”
“I’ve just realized that I may have neglected to inform you of my marriage.”
Bryce blinked. “My lord?”
“Fenella Thane that was, is now Fenella, Countess Vawdrey.”
Bryce rocked back on his heels. “But when-?”
“Twelve years ago,” said Oswald briefly. “Her marriage to Thane was not legal.”
Bryce’s jaw dropped.
“So, now you are caught up,” he said breezily. “I need you to engage my tailor. Have him attend Lady Vawdrey at his earliest convenience.”
Bryce gulped. “I do not believe Signor Pezzini usually attends to ladies.”
“He will, if the purse is fat enough,” replied Oswald. “She needs a full array of clothes. I also need you to make enquiries about new shoes and,” he waved a hand. “Trinkets?” he looked questioningly at Bryce.
“Err… female adornments?” Bryce suggested watching Oswald’s rotating hand. “Erm… hair pins, belts, cauls, gloves and the like?”
Oswald nodded looking relieved. “Yes, yes all of the attendant paraphernalia…What else?”
Bryce tapped his chin. “A harp?” he guessed desperately.
Oswald looked undecided. “I believe she said she plays a lute.”
“A horse?” suggested Bryce. “Perhaps a hawk?”
“She has a hound already,” said Oswald dismissively. “And a horse. Her brother left it stabled here.”
“Needles and silken threads?”
“I seem to recall – perhaps tapestry?” hazarded Oswald. “Or at any rate, as a girl she was fond of it, I believe.” The memory was hazy, but there. Twelve year-old Fenella had spoken of tapestry, and her eyes had shone. It was strange how vivid the flashes of memory were when they returned to him. His memory did not usually play hide and seek with him.
“Books?” hazarded Bryce. “Devotional books, prayer books?”
“Poetry is more fashionable for ladies at court, Bryce,” Oswald corrected him.
Bryce looked disapproving and folded his lips.
Oswald’s eyebrows rose. “Moralizing again Bryce? You forget the Queen is fond of poetry. Order Fenella a few volumes of whatever is popular at present.”
“Yes, my lord,” muttered Bryce.
“Bryce, you are forgetting jewelry.”
“You wish to see a jeweler my lord?”
“I do not,” said Oswald firmly. “Just get her two of everything.”
“Everything?” asked Bryce, looking out of his depth.
“Brooches, rings, necklaces, you know the sort of thing.”
Bryce floundered a moment. “Not really my lord,” he admitted.
“Confound it Bryce,” said Oswald without heat. “Have the jeweler attend Lady Vawdrey with some samples of his wares.”
