"A new gown?"
"Aye. Come, I placed it in a room above stairs and am eager to see if you like it." He took Willa's arm to lead her inside the castle, then suddenly paused and turned back. "Oh, Hugh, I almost forgot, I have spoken with the priest and he assured me that the wedding can be held the moment the two of you are ready." He glanced between Hugh and Willa now. "I am assuming that all is well? That you have settled matters and are ready to marry now?"
"Aye." Willa and Hugh gave the answer as one.
"Good, good, then perhaps you should send someone to fetch the priest. There is no sense delaying. Cook and the other servants have been working like mad these last three days to prepare. I think all is ready."
"I take it you have found the letter and resolved the problem of her name then?" Hugh said with a feeling of relief that faded when he saw Wynekyn's troubled expression. "You have not found the letter?"
"Damn me, nay." Wynekyn's shoulders slumped. "I was going through Richard's things again this morning when a servant hurried in to tell me you were riding for the castle with Willa. I was so excited I forgot - "
"What is the problem with my name?" Willa interrupted curiously.
Wynekyn forced a smile and patted her hand reassuringly. "Never fear, my dear. We shall find the letter, and then the wedding may be held. Hugh, perhaps you could - What is it, Willa?" he asked when she tapped on his arm to get his attention.
"Why do you need this letter?"
"We must have your last name to put on the contract, my dear. Richard promised he would leave a letter with your name in it for me, but there has been some difficulty finding it," he explained, patting her hand again. He then turned to Hugh to continue, "Perhaps you could assist me, I have searched his chamber several times already and - Yes, Willa, what is it?" he asked a little less patiently this time.
"I know my name."
"Of course you do, dear." He turned back to Hugh, opened his mouth, closed it, and jerked his head back around in amazement as her words sank in. "You do?"
"Well, of course, my lord."
"What is it?" Hugh asked when Wynekyn seemed stymied by this information.
"Willa Evelake."
"Evelake," Hugh murmured with a smile.
"Evelake," Wynekyn echoed, his forehead furrowing as if he were trying to place the name.
"Is everything alright then?" Willa asked anxiously. "The marriage may be performed?"
Wynekyn's expression brightened. "Aye! Aye, yes. Hugh - "
"I shall send someone to fetch the priest."
"Good, good. And perhaps - "
"I shall see to everything, Lord Wynekyn," he assured him patiently. "Why do you not take Willa above stairs and show her the gown you had made for her so that she may prepare herself.
"Yes, yes." Beaming now, the older man took Willa's arm and turned her toward the stairs again.
Chapter Eight
"I do hope you like the gown, my dear. I hired a woman to make it the moment I reached London. I knew 'twould take several days for my man to find Hugh and for him to ride to London. Of course, Hugh was swifter than I expected. He also left for here directly after meeting with Richard's solicitor, while I had to wait until later in the day for your gown to be finished before I could follow."
Willa made sympathetic noises as they entered the castle and crossed the hall to the stairs. She knew from experience that was the only response necessary. Lord Wynekyn was something of a talker.
" 'Twas quiet a trial, I can tell you," he said with a laugh as they ascended the stairs. "I did not have you there for measurements, of course. Fortunately, the dressmaker's daughter appeared to me to be the same size as yourself, so she stood in for you. Then the woman wished to know in what style she should make it. As if I knew anything about ladies' fashions." He laughed at the very idea as they moved along the hall, then steered her through the open door of a bedchamber. "I simply told her to make it in the latest style, so I do hope it suits you."
The last was said as he gestured toward the bed, where a gown had been carefully laid out. Its arms were spread wide to show off the fine trim and wide sleeves, its skirts flared to best effect.
"The color of the cloth reminded me of your eyes," he said as Willa moved slowly forward, her fascinated gaze fixed on the soft blue-gray gown.
It was quite the most beautiful dress she'd ever seen. Willa could hardly believe it was hers. Pausing at the foot of the bed, she reached out tentatively and brushed one finger lightly over the cloth. A small breath slipped from her lips. "So soft."
Wynekyn moved forward at once, his expression terribly sad as he clasped her shoulders and peered down at the gown with her. "Aye. The softest material I could find. There will be no more coarse peasant cloth against your skin, Willa. That time is over. Hugh is a strong and able warrior. He will keep you safe without the need for subterfuge. Not that Richard was not a strong and able warrior, too," he rushed to add as if just realizing how his words might be interpreted. "He was. But - "
Willa hushed him by turning and placing one finger against his lips. A smile bloomed on her face despite the tears that now filled her eyes. "That part of my life is over now. I shall have a husband, and children, and not need to hide. 'Tis a beautiful gown. Thank you, uncle."
She threw her arms around him in an exuberant hug of gratitude and simple happiness. Wynekyn cleared his throat and patted her back, then turned quickly away to move toward the door when she released him. She supposed the move was meant to hide the fact that he was wiping a suspicious wetness from his own cheeks even as Willa quickly brushed the silly tears from her own.
"Well, I shall remove myself so you may prepare," he said in bracing tones as he reached the door. "I shall have a bath ordered up and send Eada to help you dress."
"Oh nay!" Willa said quickly. " 'Twas a long morning for Eada and she is not as young as she used to be. Let her rest. I can dress myself."
"Nonsense! You are a lady now. I shall see if I cannot find someone else to attend you." He smiled slightly. "Send for me when you are ready and I shall escort you below."
Willa returned his smile and nodded, then watched the door close behind him before turning to the bed again. She stared down at the lovely gown for one moment, then threw herself on top of it with a squeal. Gathering it in her arms, she rolled onto her back holding it close to her body. It was beautiful. Gorgeous. The most scrumptious gown ever made and it was all hers!
Realizing that her behavior might wrinkle the gown, she pushed herself quickly off the bed. Lifting the gown, she held it against the front of her body and peered down at herself, trying to see how it was going to look. She marveled at its beauty for several moments, wondering over its softness.
She was rubbing the petal-soft material against her cheek for the umpteenth time when there was a sudden throat-clearing from the door, followed by a tentative, "Wee Willa?"
Willa glanced toward the door with a start. It had been years since anyone had called her wee Willa. Not since Luvena. She peered at the older woman in the doorway. Several moments passed before Willa realized who she was. Luvena's mother. She and Luvena had been the only people to call her that name. The rest of the servants had addressed her as "m'lady," but Luvena, as her friend, had chosen the nickname and her mother used it, too. Willa had insisted on it.
"Alsneta." She breathed the name uncertainly as it came to mind. The woman looked like Luvena's mother. But the years had not been kind. Her once red-gold hair had turned mostly gray with just a few strands of color left to hint at its former glory. Her lovely laughing face was now too thin and lined with misery. She appeared a dried-up husk of the woman she'd been. Yet her face was transformed when she broke into a smile.
"You remember me." She sounded both surprised and pleased at the realization. The sudden smile softened her features, making her almost lovely again.
"Of course I do," Willa murmured. Letting the gown slip from her fingers to the bed, she moving impulsively forward to hug the woman. The cook was stiff at first, but then relaxed and hugged her back. Willa released her and said, "You helped raise me. You and Eada both had charge of me as a child until - " She ended the sentence abruptly and glanced away toward the bed, unwilling to bring up Luvena or her death. Spying the gown, she drew the woman forward by the hand. "Did you see the gown Lord Wynekyn brought me? I am to be married in it," she said quickly to change the subject.
When a moment passed in silence, Willa glanced uncertainly at the older woman, biting her lip when she saw the grief Alsneta struggled with. Knowing that her presence must be reawakening sad memories, Willa turned back to the gown, touching it gently. "I am sorry, Alsneta. I did not mean to - "
" 'Tis a lovely gown, is it not?" The older woman broke in with determined cheerfulness. " 'Twill look lovely oh you." Reaching past Willa, she picked it up. "Lord Wynekyn asked me to send someone to help you dress. I have been quite busy with the preparations for the feast, but everything is ready now and I thought it might make you more comfortable to see a familiar face. My, is this cloth not soft?"
The aging servant continued to chatter with determined cheer as the bath was brought in and filled. She talked right through undressing Willa, helping her with the bath, drying her hair before the fire, and continued on as she helped Willa into the new gown. Most of what she said was just chatter; gossip about servants Willa had yet to meet, tales of her sister who had died the year earlier, as well as complaints of her nephew whom she was sure had hurried the woman to her grave with some of his antics. Willa let it drift over her head as she enjoyed the extravagance of a bath. She hadn't even realized she had missed the luxury. She'd not bathed in anything but the river since her tenth year. There was no tub in the cottage. It had been the river in the summer and a pitcher of water and basin for a hand bath in the winter. Willa found it lovely to relax in fire-heated water.
Warm baths, soft gowns, and someone to fuss over her and help her dress - it all seemed like a little bit of heaven to her. Willa was almost sorry when Alsneta pronounced her ready and hurried out to find Lord Wynekyn.
"Well," Wynekyn said moments later, pausing just inside the door Alsneta had left open. Then, for the first time in all the years that Willa had known him, he did not speak. He simply stared at her, his face full of wonder.
Willa beamed back, feeling as beautiful as she had ever felt in her life. "Is it not fine?" she asked, running her hand over the blue-gray material of the skirt. Nothing she had ever owned, even as a pampered child, had equaled the beauty and comfort of this gown.
"Aye, well..." A slight frown now came to his face. "Let us hope Hugh agrees. I had not realized how snug a fit 'twould be. I was sure the dressmaker's daughter was your size. Obviously, I was mistaken."
" 'Tis not snug. 'Tis a perfect fit, my lord," Willa assured him. She ran her hands down over her h*ps with pleasure.
Wynekyn followed the gesture with some dismay. "You have become a woman! Odd, I always thought of you as a slender child. Willowy and graceful. But somehow, when I was not looking, you grew - " He cut himself off, but gestured vaguely to her br**sts and h*ps where the cloth of the gown clung lovingly.
Willa gave a slightly embarrassed laugh at his bemused words, then frowned as she fingered one long sleeve. "You do not think that the sleeves may be a bit large, do you?"
Wynekyn shook his head. "Nay. Long hanging sleeves are the style just now, my dear." Clearing his throat, he held out a hand. "Well, come along then. We shall go below and see the deed done."
Willa gave up touching the gown with some reluctance. Managing a nervous smile, she slipped her fingers into his. He led her from the room.
"My... my... my - "
"God," Jollivet supplied dryly as he followed Lucan's wide eyes to see what had him stammering so. Willa was a vision descending the stairs on Wynekyn's trembling arm. "My God is what you are trying to say. Though goddess would suit the situation better, I think."
Hugh turned toward the stairs at that and immediately felt his mouth go as dry as ashes. Willa had been lovely in her course peasant sacks, but she was glorious in the gown Wynekyn had given her. A sigh from either side of him made Hugh glance at first one, then the other of the two men flanking him. He took in their awestruck gazes and had to wonder what the devil he was getting himself into. Even his effeminate cousin was drooling over the chit.
The wedding was held on the steps of the chapel. Father Brennan conducted the ceremony in a solemn tone while every servant and soldier of Hillcrest set down his work to witness it.
Afterward, they all sat down for a celebratory meal in the great hall. The air was fragrant with a mixture of spices and the smell of roasted meat. It was a long celebratory meal served in several courses. There were potages, tarts, bread, cheese, custard, mutton, venison, eel, figpeckers, pigeon pies, suckling pig, braised lettuces, gilded peacock, a festooned boar's head, oysters steamed in almond milk, goose in a sauce of grapes and garlic, a whole roast sheep with sour cherry sauce, pastries with pine nuts and sugar, frumenty and spiced mulled wine. There was even rosewater for the guests to clean their hands. Cook had truly outdone herself, especially given the short amount of time she had had to prepare.
Hugh sat through it all in a sort of daze, the combination of his cold and lack of sleep creeping up on him as he ate and drank. He was soon swaying wearily in his seat, his eyelids drooping and threatening to close on him. It was when he started awake nearly face down in his trencher that Hugh realized he was in danger of passing out from exhaustion on his own wedding night. That possibility was unacceptable to Hugh. His gaze shifted around the room. He was pretty sure that they had reached the final course, but wasn't at all positive that the sotelty for this course had yet been presented. There had already been a large eagle after the first course, then an effigy of St. Andrew made of marzipan and dough after the second, and... no, that was it. The third and final sotelty had not yet been presented, he realized wearily. Then the kitchen doors opened and the cook strode out.