Page 13
Story: Knights, Knaves, and Kilts
S he could hear the fighting from her chamber.
She had a big one, looking over the entrance of the fine establishment known as The Pox and facing the River Thames.
When Denys brought her to this rather enormous hovel sheltering the dregs of humanity, she had been resistant.
She’d almost run off. But Denys had assured her these were safe, clean chambers in spite of the clientele, and, being exhausted and having no idea where else she could go, she agreed.
But only for the night. Denys took her inside and procured her the best room they had, and here she was, overlooking the half-moon as the cold light from it danced upon the river.
Had the fighting not been so loud, it would have been a lovely night.
It was quite a place she found herself in.
In fact, Denys hadn’t been wrong. The door of her chamber was reinforced with iron, and there was an enormous bolt to keep it secure.
She felt as if she was in prison, but along with that cell-like feeling, she also felt very safe.
No one could break down the door, including Daventry’s son.
Not that he’d find her here. He wouldn’t even think to look for her in a place like this.
Perhaps more of Denys’ brilliance in bringing her here.
The chamber was surprisingly clean, with a big bed and a hearth that was burning warmly.
There was a table with a couple of chairs, a chamber pot under the bed, and even a wardrobe cabinet that wasn’t in terrible shape.
In fact, the entire room was in shockingly good shape, considering the establishment.
But she’d paid a fine price for it.
Not that she cared. For safety and comfort on this night, she would gladly pay.
Before he left, Denys had ordered her a bath and food, which had already been brought.
Denys didn’t leave until the bath was put into her chamber and the food placed upon the table.
He told her not to open the door for anyone, not until she was ready to leave, and she would listen to him.
He didn’t say anything about sending word to him or to Magnus when she was ready to move on, taking them up on their offer of an escort, but that was to be expected, considering she’d made it clear that she didn’t need, or want, their help.
But that wasn’t exactly true.
Now that she’d had their assistance, she realized just how foolish she had been behaving.
Shock at the situation and an overwhelming fear for her future had seen to that.
She knew that now. But she didn’t go so far as to tell Denys to apologize to Magnus for her, though she had thanked him profusely for his help.
Maybe that was enough. Maybe not. All she knew was that for the first time in her adult life, she was free and alone.
No lord, no expectations, and she wasn’t anyone’s property. Not anymore.
She could hardly believe it.
Lost in the thought of an unexpected future, Delaina took a leisurely bath in the small copper pot that had been brought for that purpose.
She’d brought expensive soap and oils with her, the very finest because Lord Daventry liked her skin to be soft, and she washed all of the gold leaf out of her hair and scrubbed her skin with lavender-scented soap until it was rosy and clean.
She remained seated in the pot until the water grew tepid and she was forced to get out, but she felt clean and calm.
After donning an expensive night shift with long, flowing sleeves, she brought her food over to the hearth and ate it as she combed out her damp hair by the fire.
As she ate the simple but plentiful fare of bread, cheese, boiled eggs, and boiled beef, she began to think on her future.
This moment was so unexpected that she was still overwhelmed by it.
It had never occurred to her that Lord Daventry would die anytime soon, but now that the moment had come, her entire future was laid out before her.
She’d told Magnus that she would rather join the cloister than continue the life of a courtesan, but that wasn’t entirely true.
She knew how nuns lived, and she wasn’t keen on woolen underwear and gaining nourishment from the word of God.
But she’d rather do that then be used by a man who would eventually tire of her and pass her to the next one.
That was no life for any woman.
A knock at the door startled her from her thoughts. Fear clutched at her as she stood up, comb in hand, and hesitantly moved toward the door. But she didn’t answer; she simply listened. Listened for a hint of who was on the other side.
The knock came again.
“My lady?” The voice was muffled. “It is Magnus. Will you open the door?”
Filled with a good deal of relief, but also a good deal of curiosity, Delaina threw the bolt and yanked the heavy door open. True enough, Magnus was on the other side, standing in the darkened corridor. When their eyes met, he smiled timidly.
“Denys told me that he’d brought you here,” he said. “I came to make sure you were taken care of and did not require anything further.”
Delaina looked at him with surprise. “You came all the way over here from Westminster?”
“I did, my lady.”
“Just to see if I needed anything further?”
“I did, my lady.”
There was something comically chivalrous in the declaration, and Delaina wasn’t as resistant to him as she had been before. The man was going to be of service whether or not she wanted him to be.
With a chuckle, she opened the door wider. “Come in,” she said. “Come in before that constant fight down in the common room makes its way up the stairs and somehow involves you. I would not wish for you to be injured whilst on your errand of service.”
Magnus’ smile turned genuine as he came into the warm, moist chamber. He stood just inside the door as she closed it and locked it, then threw the bolt again for good measure.
He snorted softly. “The security of this place is stronger than Westminster itself,” he said. “But I suppose they have good reason.”
Delaina made her way back over to the fire. “I suppose they do,” she said. “I should be offended that Sir Denys would bring me to such a place, but I must say that he was right about one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s quite safe,” she said, pointing to the iron door. “No one can break through that.”
Magnus looked at the secure door. “True enough,” he said. “I can see that you are well protected.”
She nodded, lowering herself back to the stool she’d been sitting on. “I am,” she said. “Thanks to you.”
“Denys brought you here.”
“But you sent him to make sure I did not do anything foolish,” she pointed out. “He called me stupid. Did he tell you that?”
Magnus nodded. “He did.”
She looked at him to see if he had any reaction to that declaration one way or the other, but his expression remained impassive.
She finally broke out in a grin and averted her gaze, resuming the combing of her hair. “I suppose I was,” she said. “I realize that now. But you must understand that I was desperate to get away from Haydon Square.”
“Even at the cost of your safety?”
“Even at the cost of my safety,” she agreed softly. “In fact, I was just sitting here, thinking about the events of the day and where I now find myself.”
Magnus came away from the door, just a couple of steps, just enough to pull a chair out from the table and lower his bulk onto it.
The mood between them seemed calm and conversational.
She hadn’t asked him to leave, so he wasn’t going to.
He was intensely curious about this glorious creature and intended to satisfy that curiosity.
“And where do you find yourself, my lady?” he asked. “What conclusion have you come to?”
She was staring into the fire, combing her hair absently. “That I have an uncertain future,” she muttered. “I’ve never been in this position before.”
There was wine on the table and one cup. Magnus took the liberty of pouring himself some of the wine then taking a long and deep drink.
“What position is that?” he asked.
She stopped combing. “Free,” she said. “Do you have any idea what that feels like? I am free . For someone who has been kept as property, as one would keep a stallion or a dog, I thought freedom was something I would never know, yet here I am. The thought is overwhelming.”
Magnus watched her as she spoke. “You do understand that a woman has no true freedom, my lady,” he said quietly. “You do not have a lord or a husband, but you are not free. You must have a place to live, a source of income, things of that nature. You cannot achieve those on your own.”
She looked at him then. “I thought so too,” she said.
“But I have my money with me. I can go anywhere I wish and pay for my passage. Mayhap I can go to France and assume a new life there. I will tell people that I am a widow. That would be respectable. I could purchase a home, mayhap have an income.”
“By doing what?”
She had to think on that. “I can sew,” she said. “I can make things. Fine things. I can do sums. I can read.”
“How can those make you money?”
She shrugged. “Mayhap I can be a tutor,” she said. “I can teach children. I could be a nurse to the children of a fine lord.”
He nodded. “You could,” he said. “But what about the cloister? You told me that was where you were bound.”
She eyed him somewhat sheepishly. “I fear that I spoke too soon,” she said.
“I do not think I am the type of person they would be looking for, and, frankly, I am not entirely sure I could endure the life. That means I must make my own way in life, somehow. But it is a position I never thought I would be in, not ever.”
Magnus finished off the cup of wine and poured himself another. “But here you are,” he said. “May I make an observation, my lady?”
“I suppose so.”
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