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“I separated the food because I wasn’t sure if you cared for steamed cabbage. I am not fond of it, myself. However, the root vegetables are delicious today. The meat is a little tough and needs more sauce, but that was all I could manage to get. Some of the men at the table are very greedy.”
“Aye, it is always that way below the salt. If you were up at the dais where Sir Claude is sitting, you would have more than enough food to eat and have the first choice of the best cut of meat.”
“Sir Claude,” Evelina repeated, taking the wooden cup into her hands, looking over the rim as she took a sip of honeyed mead. Lady Rose smiled from ear to ear, holding up a piece of cheese to Claude’s mouth. He shook his head and flashed a smile, then buried his nose in a tankard of ale. “He is an odd one, isn’t he?”
“That’s funny,” said Felix, using his fingers to shove more food into his mouth. “He said the same thing about you.”
She jerked in surprise. “He did? He thinks I’m odd? How so?”
“He said you don’t act like any servant he’s ever known.”
She put down the cup, almost spilling the mead in the process. She needed to be more careful with her disguise. “What else did he say about me?”
“He said if you want to know anything about him that you should ask him instead of asking me.”
“He did, did he?” She used the spoon and scooped up a cooked piece of carrot, gently placing it into her mouth and then using the scrap of cloth to wipe her lips afterward.
“Just like that,” said Felix, nodding to the cloth.
“Like what?” she asked, neatly folding the cloth into a square and slipping it back into her pocket.
“He has never seen a servant use a cloth to wipe her mouth. He also said you are too dainty to be of peasant stock. And you smell like rosewater, and your hair is clean and smells like fresh air.”
“I smell like rosewater?” Her heart skipped a beat. Sir Claude noticed that she’d used a small dab of Lady Rose’s rosewater. She liked that he was so observant, but it frightened her at the same time. He was going to figure out her secret. Being from France, he could send a missive back to her father. If so, before she knew it, she’d be marrying the awful Lord Onfroi. She needed to be more careful around this French knight.
When the meal ended, there were games for the children to help celebrate the birthdays of Harry and Charlotte. Evelina went to help the children, hoping someday she would have children of her own.
The children played several games, and the last one had to do with balancing eggs on spoons as they hurried across the great hall, walking around a few obstacles and then back again. The minstrels in the gallery overhead played music. When the music stopped, they had to run back to the start with their egg, hoping not to drop and break it.
“It’s your turn, Harry,” said Evelina, helping the little boy balance his egg on a spoon. “You need to beat Charlotte if you want to win the race.”
“Charlotte, let me help you with that,” said Claude, making his way down the dais to help his sister.
“I don’t need help, Claude,” Charlotte told him. “I’m eight now and old enough to play the game by myself.”
“Hello, Evelina,” said Claude, looking straight ahead instead of at her when he spoke.
“Hello,” she said, looking down at Harry.
“Did my squire give you the message?”
“What message?” she asked, pretending not to know. It would be better if he didn’t realize she had been talking about him.
“Didn’t he tell you? If you want to know anything about me you are to ask me directly, not go through him.”
“There is nothing about you I have the desire to know.”
The music started up, and Evelina urged Harry forward. “Go on, quickly,” she told him, clapping her hands together. “But not too quickly or you will drop the egg.”
“Hurry, Charlotte.” Claude put his hands to his mouth to call out to his sister. “You need to beat Harry. Show him that the de Bars are not losers.”
“De Bars?” Evelina stood up so quickly at hearing him say that name that she lost her balance and almost fell. He grabbed her by the elbow and steadied her.
“Careful,” he told her. “You might hurt yourself.”
She, along with everyone in France knew about the old man, Lord Pierpont de Bar who had watched his wife burn at the stake because she was accused of being a witch. Hadn’t the squire said something about Claude’s grandmother burning at the stake? It was also said that the de Bar family was cursed and some of the relatives were witches. Could he be part of this family? “Why did you say de Bar?”
“I said Montague,” he told her.
“Nay, you didn’t. I distinctly heard you say de Bar. Are you a de Bar or aren’t you?”
“I told you, I am Sir Claude Jean Montague, but thank you for asking.”
“That’s a lie,” she said under her breath.
“What was that?” asked Claude.
“I said that’s a tie. It looks like the race is going to be a tie.”
“That’s not what you said.”
“Of course, it is.” She looked directly at him and smiled.
The crowd cheered for the children as the music stopped. Charlotte and Harry both ran back to the start, somehow managing to keep the eggs balanced on the spoons. Harry crossed the line at the same time as Charlotte.
“You won, Charlotte! Congratulations, Sister.” Claude scooped her up, causing her egg to drop to the ground and break. “You should be proud to be a Montague.” He looked at Evelina as he said it.
“Harry crossed the line at the same time as Charlotte. Just like I told you, the race was a tie.” Evelina picked the boy up in her arms and held him to her chest.
“My brother said I won,” shouted Charlotte.
“Nay, I won.” Harry looked like he was about to cry.
“It’s all right, Harry. Better luck next time.” Claude reached out and ruffled the little boy’s hair. Harry opened his mouth and let out a wail.
“Harry doesn’t like anyone ruffling his hair,” Evelina told Claude.
“It’s just my way of showing affection,” said Claude. “There is no harm done.”
“Then, mayhap, you’d let Harry return the same affection by ruffling your hair as well. Unless that would bother you.”
“Why would it bother me?” asked Claude. “As I said, it is all done in fun. Go ahead, Harry. Ruffle my hair.” Claude leaned over. Evelina urged the little boy to do the same to Claude as he had done to Harry.
With tears in his eyes, Harry slapped his hand atop Claude’s head. However, the egg was in his hand and it broke on Claude’s head. Slimy egg white and yolk slid down Claude’s hair and face.
Evelina giggled while Claude clenched his jaw, not saying a word.
“Oh, Harry, what did you do?” Rose rushed over with Toft, eying up the antics of her little brother. Isobel hurried over with Claude’s mother as well.
“Claude, you have egg on your face,” said Celestine.
Suddenly, all the children were crowding around, and everyone, including Rose, laughed at Claude. Claude wiped the egg out of his eyes and licked his lips.
“I’ll have a tub of water sent up to your solar for you, Claude,” said Rose. “I’m sorry that Harry did that.”
“Harry was only ruffling Claude’s hair as Claude did to him,” stated Evelina. As everyone continued to laugh, Claude’s gaze met with Evelina’s. The anguish and despair in his eyes told her that this situation had hurt him deeply.
“Excuse me, my lady,” Claude said, bowing to Rose with egg still dripping down his face. “I think I will retire for the evening.”
Claude hurried through the great hall with his squire at his heels. No one but Evelina seemed to notice the turmoil on Claude’s face. Her heart went out to him. It was her fault since she’d told Harry to ruffle his hair. Now, she regretted her action. It wasn’t anger she viewed in Claude’s eyes as he hurried aw
ay. It was pain. A more profound pain than she’d ever seen in anyone’s eyes before. She wanted to run after him and tell him she was sorry, but couldn’t. She was only a servant, she reminded herself. She couldn’t step out of line again or her secret might be revealed.
Every part of her wanted to comfort Claude and make him smile. Why did she feel this way when everything the man had done so far had been nothing but belittling to her? Then again, his actions were typical for a nobleman and the way they treated servants. Her actions were not normal for a servant, just like Claude had told his squire. Pretending she was someone that she was not was becoming more difficult all the time.
Chapter 4
Claude dipped his head under the water of the tub and broke the surface with a sigh. The hot bath felt inviting but was doing nothing to make him feel better. The nursemaid had made him look like a fool in front of everyone, especially Rose. It brought back too many hurtful memories of the past.
He was a knight now and wanted to leave the past buried of the days he was a frightened, angry, skinny boy with long hair in his eyes. He wanted his father to be proud of him. Hell, he wanted to look good in Rose’s eyes now that he could measure up to someone like her husband. But Rose laughed at him, and that only made him want to try harder to make her like him more.
Was he really unlikable? He scooped up some soft soap from a small dish hanging from the edge of the tub and scrubbed his body hard. He wanted people to like him. Too much of his life was spent feeling lonely, and he didn’t ever want to feel that way again.
A knock sounded at the door. He figured it was either his squire coming back with more wine or a servant bringing the towel they had forgotten to leave.
“Enter,” he called out, scrubbing the soap into his scalp and closing his eyes, dipping back under the water to rinse it.
Evelina clutched the towel in her hand, glancing down the corridor, hoping no one was watching. She had intercepted the servant and told the young boy she’d take the towel to Lord Claude. She wanted to talk to him alone and try to find out if he had any suspicion of whom she really was. This was the only way to do it.
Hearing Claude call out to enter, she nervously reached out for the door handle, hesitating a second, and pulling her hand back. He might already be in the tub. If so, she would be in the room with a naked man. Then again, perhaps he was fully dressed and waiting for the towel and hadn’t even entered the tub yet.
She heard voices down the corridor and quickly reached out and turned the handle, slipping into the darkened room so she wouldn’t be discovered. Silently closing the door, she took a minute for her eyes to get accustomed to the dark. There was a fire on the hearth and one small candle burning on a table near the bed.
Evelina scanned the room, seeing the tub of water, but not seeing Claude anywhere. She thought that mayhap she had imagined him telling her to enter and perhaps he wasn’t here at all. She turned around to leave and heard the sound of water splashing over the edge of the tub onto the floor.
“Bring me the towel quickly, servant. I have soap in my eyes.”
She spun around to see Claude standing up in the tub, rubbing his closed eyes. His naked, toned body glistened in the firelight as rivulets of water trailed down his sturdy chest, disappearing into the thatch of dark, curly hair at his groin. She lifted her hand to block her eyes from looking any further. She shouldn’t have entered the room after all.
“Hurry, give me the drying cloth,” said Claude, holding out one hand.
With her eyes turned downward, she slowly walked toward the tub, stretching to give it to him.
“Where is it?” he asked, his hand grasping at thin air.
“It’s right here,” she said, pushing it into his grip.
His fingers closed over her wrist and he pulled her to his chest. The air whooshed from her lungs and she crashed up against his naked, wet body.
“I might have soap in my eyes, but I would know that voice anywhere,” he growled. With one hand, he wiped the water from his eyes, still holding her wrist with the other.
“Let go of me,” she demanded, feeling her heart racing in her chest.
“Are you sure that is what you want, Nursemaid?” He put his mouth right next to her ear, causing her to shiver. “After all, the only reason I can see that a nursemaid would enter my chamber when I’m naked is that she wants to give me more than just a towel, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” she said, struggling against his hold, looking at the ground rather than looking at his naked body.
He ripped the towel from her hand and released her, sending her stumbling backward.
“Don’t worry; I am not interested in bedding you.” She heard the splash of water and then the rustling of the cloth. When she daringly looked up, he had stepped from the tub and had the towel tied around his waist. “So, don’t waste your time trying to get my attention because you are the last person I would ever take to my bed.”
That infuriated her. It was bad enough that he assumed she was there to throw herself at him. But now, he had to insult her by saying he didn’t want her?
“I assure you, having a tryst with you was the furthest thing from my mind when I entered the room.”
“Really?” He lifted a brow and cocked a lopsided grin. “Then what did you come here for, Nursemaid? To help scrub my back?”
“Nay!” she shouted. “I came here to apologize for what happened in the great hall.”
“Why should you apologize?” he asked. “It was the boy who did it.”
“Harry was only acting on my suggestion. If I had never told him to ruffle your hair, none of this would have happened.”
“Aye, that’s true.” He picked up a wooden goblet on the table, trying to get the last drop of wine from the vessel. “Where is that squire of mine?” he spat. “Mayhap, you should have brought wine along with the towel. Why didn’t you?”
That took her by surprise. “Mayhap, I shouldn’t have ventured into your room at all. You sound so ungrateful.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” He put down the cup and took a few slow steps toward her. “Am I being . . . unlikable?”
She swallowed deeply, not liking the way he almost seemed to stalk her. By the rood, he knew what she’d told the squire. “Nay, my lord. Not at all,” she said, dropping her gaze to the floor.
“If I’m not unlikable, then why don’t you look at me, Nursemaid?” He lifted her chin with his palm and, ever so slowly, she raised her eyes until she was gazing right into his swirling blue orbs. The sadness she’d seen earlier was gone. Replacing it was mischief and if she wasn’t mistaken, a bit of lust as well. “What was the real reason you came here tonight?” he asked her.
“I told you,” she said in a soft voice. “I came here to apologize.”
“I don’t believe that is entirely true.” His eyes focused on her lips as he leaned in closer. “Then again, I don’t believe you are who you claim to be, either.”
“Y – you don’t?” Her eyes fell to his mouth as well. “Who do you believe I am, my lord?”
She could feel his hot breath on her when he spoke. Her tongue darted out to wet her parched lips. He was going to kiss her, she was sure of it. This handsome knight was going to give her a sensuous kiss, and she welcomed it. Evelina closed her eyes and let her head fall back, waiting for the feel of his mouth pressed up against hers. Would the kiss be quick or long and drawn out? Would it be filled with lust and hunger or, perhaps, instead, filled with love and passion? She had to know.
He released her, never touching her mouth with his. “I think it is time for you to leave now, Nursemaid.”
When she opened her eyes, he had turned and was walking away. He dropped down on the bed, lounging back, raising his arms behind his head to use as a pillow. Now she was the one who felt like a fool, standing there with her head back and eyes closed waiting for a kiss like a lovelorn adolescent. In worrying about the pain and turmoil she’d caused him, she’
d release the wrath of displeasure upon herself. This wasn’t at all what she had expected.
“Why are you still standing there?” he asked. “I told you I don’t want you in my bed, so why don’t you understand that?”
“You are a wretched cur, no different than any other man I’ve ever met.”
He released a deep chuckle. “I’m sorry if I am not living up your expectations, but I am not used to having a woman play the aggressor. I suppose if you are adamant about staying here, I can make an exception. It has been a while since I’ve bedded a servant.”
“How dare you!” she blurted out, no longer caring that she was not acting like a servant. This man made her blood boil, and she was not going to put up with his rudeness. Even if she were a servant, he had the manners of a pig!
His smile disappeared and he pushed up to a sitting position, watching her intently.
“I should report your actions and your brash words to Lady Rose immediately.”
“Your threats don’t frighten me because I know you would never do it.”
“Why would you say that?” He scooted to the edge of the bed.
“Sir Claude, my only reason for coming here tonight was because I felt sorry for you.”
“Sorry for me?” Anger flashed in his eyes. “I don’t need your pity. And neither do I know what you mean.”
“I saw the pain in your eyes when everyone laughed at you in the great hall. I especially noticed your despair when Lady Rose laughed at you as well. It hurt you, didn’t it?”
“Who are you to ask me such a question?”
“You care what she thinks about you and are trying your hardest to leave a good impression.”
“I don’t need to impress anyone,” he scoffed.
“You don’t. Yet it means everything to you that Lady Rose sees you in a light that matches that of her husband. Doesn’t it?”
“Stop it!” he commanded.
“You wouldn’t want her to know I was in your solar while you were naked because she might think you are a cur instead of the honorable knight you want her to believe you are.”