The Bride's Portion. Susan Paul

lord of the castle not care that your nurse is so sleepy all the time?” Edyth asked.

      “He’s very busy,” Justin replied, as though that should explain.

      “I see,” Edyth said feebly, and exchanged wondering glances with Lillis.

      “What of your Aunt Leta?” Lillis asked. “She manages the household for your brother. Does she not care about your lack of supervision?”

      The children cast glances at each other, then looked at Lillis.

      “Aunt Leta doesn’t mind us as long as we’re quiet. And Barbara says it would be mean to make us do what we don’t want to, because we don’t have parents.”

      “Oh, my!” Edyth cried, unable to contain herself any longer. “What kind of place is this? Even the children in the orphanage had better care!”

      “It’s none of our concern, Edyth,” Lillis warned. “We’ll not be here long enough to make any difference in the lives of these children, so just get those thoughts right out of your head.”

      Edyth looked at her very pleadingly. “But, my dear, they’re just babies—”

      “It would be unwise for us to become involved with these two,” Lillis said firmly, then looked at Candis and Justin. “Although I suppose it would be all right to see if they like to play games. Do you?”

      “What kind of games?” Candis asked, wide-eyed.

      “Why, all kinds. Edyth and I know almost any game you’d care to name. And stories, too. I know a wonderful story I can tell you this very minute, if you wish it.”

      They did wish it, and both came closer. Edyth set one child on each knee and Lillis began her tale.

      “The knight took up his lance,” Lillis said toward the end of the story, standing and using her arms to demonstrate just how it had been done, “and he took one step, two steps, three steps closer to where the evil man lay. Slowly he lifted his lance, aimed it at the man before him, and—”

      A shriek from across the great hall surprised the little group. The children clung to Edyth, and Lillis dropped her hands; all of them looked to where the scream had sounded from.

      It seemed to have come from one of the ladies who sat sewing at the other end of the hall, though from which one it was impossible to tell, as they were all now standing and looking with distress at Lillis and Edyth. Two of the ladies, Aunt Leta and a stunningly beautiful redheaded lady, came flying across the room.

      “Hold them!” Aunt Leta shouted to the guards behind Edyth and Lillis. “Hold them!”

      Looking rather uncertain, the guards moved to do as they were bid, and in a moment Lillis and Edyth found themselves dragged into the firm grasps of the two men. Justin and Candis still clung to Edyth’s skirt in an effort to protect themselves from whatever it was that threatened them.

      “How could you threaten such innocent children?!” the redheaded lady cried as she came upon them. Lillis stared at her in surprise.

      “I—”

      The redheaded woman, or rather girl, for she was certainly younger than Lillis, grabbed Candis and pulled her away from Edyth, scaring her so badly that the child began to cry. Aunt Leta came huffing and puffing behind her and did the same to a bewildered Justin.

      “What were you doing to these children?” she demanded.

      “I—we—” Lillis sputtered in wonder. What did they think they had been doing to them?

      “She was telling them a very interesting story,” came a voice from the shadows of the nearby stairwell. “I should think that would have been obvious, Aunt Leta.”

      Alexander of Gyer strolled slowly into the light.

      “Release them,” he instructed the guards, and received immediate compliance. “Do not lay hands on these ladies again unless your instructions come directly from me. And I mean directly. Do you understand?” he asked. They nodded.

      “Alex!” The redheaded lady stamped her foot angrily. “That woman was getting ready to strike one of the children! I saw it with my own two eyes. You should have the both of them locked in chains in the cellar. Who knows what a daughter of Wellewyn is capable of doing? She’s already caused poor Hugh and Hugo to be punished quite horribly.”

      “Barbara.” Alexander of Gyer sounded surprised, and Lillis couldn’t keep herself from looking at him. His expression was pained as he gazed at the redheaded girl, and she suddenly realized that the tiny creature before her was his betrothed. Barbara. She looked back at the girl and felt a familiar twinge of jealousy. Here was everything that Lillis, herself, was not, yet had always wished to be. The lady Barbara was as delicate as a butterfly, her features were lovely and feminine; her hands, her feet, everything about her was dainty and frail looking, as though she could easily be broken. And she was beautiful. Very beautiful.

      “It’s true, Alex,” Barbara returned petulantly, “and I’m disappointed that you would take the word of this—” she looked at Lillis with contempt “—lady over your own brothers. And after they did you such a favor by capturing her. You should be praising instead of punishing them.”

      How did she do it? Lillis wondered. How could she speak so angrily and yet still seem so sweet and merely a little silly? If anything, her childish speech would melt a man’s heart rather than enrage him. Lillis looked to see what effect it had on Alexander of Gyer.

      “No, Barbara, I’m the one who is disappointed,” he chided gently, coming closer and looking impossibly handsome. “I assured our guests that you would be ready to welcome them in the hall this afternoon, but when I came to see how things fared I found they had been kept separate from the other women. I expected better of you, and certainly better of you, Aunt Leta.” He gave that lady a more pointed look.

      The dainty creature’s big green eyes welled with sudden tears. “You—you cannot be so cruel as to expect me to entertain them! Prisoners, my lord?”

      “While they are here,” he said curtly, “these ladies will be treated as honored guests. Now take the children to their nurse. We shall discuss this matter later.”

      His tone did not invite discussion, though both Aunt Leta and Lady Barbara looked as though they had more to say. However, they kept silent and dutifully led Justin and Candis toward the stairs. A gentle hand grasped Lillis’s elbow.

      “I beg your pardon, my lady,” Alexander of Gyer apologized sincerely. “You must forgive my aunt and cousin. They tend to think the worst of anyone from Wellewyn, I fear.”

      “Do they?” Lillis wrenched her elbow free. “Do you know that your betrothed has been telling your brother and sister that I am a witch who turns children into mice and sets houses afire?”

      He stiffened, yet his expression remained polite. “If that is what Candis and Justin told you, then either you misunderstood them or they are mistaken. I know they have some childish idea about you being a witch, but Barbara would never tell them such ridiculous tales. They heard them from Hugh and Hugo, more like, or from one of the villagers.”

      “I did not misunderstand them, my lord, but that is neither here nor there. She is your betrothed, not mine, and you may believe what you wish of her. She is none of my concern.”

      He seemed amazed that she would dare speak to him so. “That is true, my lady, and you will do well to remember it. My cousin is my concern alone, and I’ll not discuss her with you. Do not speak of her again.”

      Lillis uttered a laugh. “As a matter of course, my lord, it would please me greatly to neither speak of nor see her again. My companion and I have enough to worry over without having to endure the distinct pleasure of Lady Barbara’s company.”

      Alexander of Gyer’s face flushed, but still his voice was calm. “I had thought, my lady, to give you as much access to my household as possible as a