Still on his heels in front of Iseult, Hugh turned his eyes to the boy, who said manfully, “I am sorry you must go, Hugh, but I understand. Thank you for helping us these last few days.” Nicholas’s back was straight as a lance. His eyes were perfectly steady.
Hugh turned back to Iseult. “Nicholas will look after you, little one,” he said.
She sniffled. “He doesn’t know how to braid my hair.”
“You will soon have serving maids to do that for you.” Hugh rose to his full height.
“Will we see you again?” Nicholas asked, not quite able to hide his hopefulness.
“Someday perhaps,” Hugh returned.
“When I grow up, Hugh, I am going to marry you,” Iseult announced.
At that, Hugh smiled and flicked a gentle finger along her round, apple-blossom cheek.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Nicholas reprimanded his sister.
“A knight never calls a lady an idiot,” Hugh said gravely.
Nicholas sighed and took his little sister by the hand. “Thank you, my lord,” he said formally. “I hope we will see you again one day.”
“I hope so, too,” Hugh returned. And he headed for the stable to collect Rufus.
11
Cristen’s party arrived at the gates of Lincoln as dark was beginning to fall. It had not been a pleasant journey; Cristen had pushed the pace without mercy. Mabel Eliot, the young attendant she had brought along for propriety’s sake, was sagging with exhaustion. And while Thomas had faithfully seen to the safety of his charges, he had adopted a silent, distant manner to convey his disapproval of this outrageous venture he had been forced to join.
To Thomas’s intense annoyance, Cristen hadn’t appeared even to notice his displeasure. Her attention was totally concentrated upon getting to Lincoln as quickly as possible.
One of Thomas’s greatest worries had been that Hugh would not be in Lincoln when Cristen got there. If that should come to pass, where was Thomas going to lodge his lord’s headstrong daughter? He tried to soothe himself with the thought that surely the bishop would have a guest house.
He shuddered at what Nigel would say to him if he allowed his daughter to lodge at a common inn.
As they entered the town through the city gate, Thomas turned to Cristen. “We have arrived, my lady,” he said with grim courtesy. “What do you desire to do next?”
“Find Hugh,” Cristen returned tersely.
“And how do you suggest we go about that?” Thomas inquired, his voice coldly and relentlessly civil. “You don’t know where he is staying.”
“We’ll try the castle first,” Cristen said. “If he’s not there, it’s likely that someone will know where we can find him.”
There was a moment of silence as Thomas regarded the delicate and lovely profile of his liege lady. She looks so fragile, he thought with a mixture of frustration and reluctant admiration. But underneath she’s adamant.
“As you wish, my lady,” he replied at last.
Mabel, who was usually a sunny-natured girl, almost whimpered. “Will we be able to get off our horses soon, my lady?”
“Very soon,” Cristen said.
Thomas bestowed a sympathetic look upon the woebegone Mabel, and she managed a weak smile in return.
The threesome rode on through the town. On either side of the main street, shopkeepers were closing up their stalls, and children home from school were playing games in the side streets. When they entered the Bail, they found it just as busy. It was almost time for the evening service, and various groups of townspeople and castle folk were on their way to the Minster.
Thomas tipped his head and looked up approvingly at the heights of Lincoln Castle towering above them. He nodded in appreciation of the seemingly impregnable defenses posed by the mighty fortress. When at last he returned his gaze to his surroundings, he saw a small party of well-dressed women passing through the gate from the Inner bail. Thomas’s eye was immediately caught by the knight who was escorting the women. He was tall, his uncovered hair was darkly gold, and his mantle was lined with fur.
Thomas turned to Cristen, “Shall I ask that knight yonder if he knows aught of Hugh, my lady?”
“Aye, do that,” she returned crisply.
Thomas dismounted, and leading his tired stallion, went to intercept the knight and his group of ladies.
When he saw that he was being approached, the knight halted and waited for Thomas to reach his side. The woman dressed in a green mantle who had been walking beside him halted also.
Thomas was tall, but the knight was taller, and Thomas had to look up to meet his eyes. They were very blue.
“Excuse me, sir,” Thomas said, “but I wonder if you could tell me where I might find Hugh de Leon.”
“Who wants to know?” the tall, broad-shouldered young man replied. His eyes flicked over Thomas’s horse, a well-built roan.
Thomas made a small gesture in the direction of Cristen and Mabel. “My name is Thomas Mannyng and I am escorting Lady Cristen Haslin of Somerford,” he said. “I am one of Sir Nigel’s household knights.”
“You are from Somerford?” the young knight said with sudden interest. He looked down at the woman in green standing at his side. “Do you mind if I speak to Lady Cristen for a moment, my lady?”
“Of course not,” she replied. “In fact, I will accompany you.” She made a shooing gesture toward the four other ladies in her party, who were waiting at a little distance. “The rest of you can go along to church. Sir Richard and I will join you shortly.”
Thomas spared a glance for the woman in the green hooded mantle, and his mouth dropped open as he beheld her face. He stood for a moment like one who has been poleaxed, and had to hurry to catch up with the two, who were heading toward Cristen and Mabel.
“Lady Cristen,” the tall knight said as he stopped unerringly beside her horse. “I am Richard Canville, son to the sheriff. Hugh has been staying with me and my father in our town house.”
Thomas was overcome by a rush of relief so strong that his knees sagged. What luck that we ran into this fellow, he thought. He could scarcely wait to relinquish the responsibility for Cristen to Hugh.
The girl next to Richard Canville pushed back her hood, revealing a mass of glorious red-gold hair. “And I am Elizabeth de Beauté,” she said.
Good God, Thomas thought in shock. This is the girl Hugh is supposed to marry?
His eyes went to Cristen as she took in the incredibly beautiful face of Elizabeth de Beauté. Her large brown eyes never flickered as she responded calmly, “How do you do, Lady Elizabeth. I am so sorry about your father.”
Thomas felt a flicker of pride. Nothing ever discomposed Lady Cristen.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth replied.
Richard said in a faintly bewildered voice, “Was Hugh expecting you, my lady?”
Cristen transferred her gaze to the knight. “He didn’t know when I was arriving.”
She might have been discussing the weather, she sounded so unruffled. One was almost tempted to believe that it was perfectly normal for an unmarried young woman, an unmarried noble young woman, to arrive in a strange town, accompanied only by a single escort, in search of a young man to whom she was not related.
“I am afraid he is not in town at the moment,” Richard said, clearly at a loss.
“Isn’t he?” Cristen returned. Not a flicker of dismay showed in her demeanor. “Well then, I shall just have to wait for him.”
Thomas glanced at the shadows quickly lengthening across the ground, and stepped forward. “I wonder if you could recommend a lodging for my lady and her companion, Sir Richard,” he said. “It is growing late and if Lord Hugh is not available to advise us…” He let his voice trail away.
“Good heavens,” Richard said in deep surprise. “Have you no place to stay?”
Cristen shot Thomas a warning look. “I thought to ask for shelter at the bishop’s guest house, Thomas,” she said steadily.