Page 245

“Word has been sent to Alphonse, has it not?” he asked. “The man may be at his townhome in Liberton. He knew I was going to Torridon to seal the betrothal with the lady and he further knew I intended to bring her back to my castle, so he may have remained close to Edinburgh.”

Ward had a ready answer. “He is, indeed, at Liberton, my lord,” he said. “I have been in contact with the man and, already, he has sent gifts for his betrothed. The young woman is being tended and shall be well dressed this eve, in clothes provided by her future husband.”

Alexander had a mental vision of a properly dressed Lady Josephine. “It is about time,” he grunted. “The woman favors the clothes of a soldier, unfortunately. That is a habit that will have to stop. I doubt Alphonse will tolerate it.”

“He wishes to meet his betrothed soon.”

“He is eager, that one,” Alexander said. But he didn’t want the man coming too soon because Alexander wanted to spend time with the lady also. He’d hardly had time back at Torridon. “I am coming to wonder if Lady Josephine is too good for him.”

“From what I saw, she is too fine, indeed, my lord.”

Alexander’s attention was lingering on his cousin, who was primed to make a fine royal mistress. He’d already broken one betrothal for the lady; it would be nothing to break a second. But that might provoke Alphonse’s wrath and he was unwilling to do that.

Ridge stood there and listened as the king and his chancellor continued to discuss the lady as if she were nothing more than a commodity.

In truth, women were chattel and that was simply the way of the world, but Ridge couldn’t help the pity he felt for the lady, increasingly sorry to have been part of the king’s plan.

But there was nothing he could have done– he was a pawn in this as much as Lady Josephine was. They were all following orders.

The orders of a fool.

*

Josephine sat submerged up to her neck in the biggest copper tub she had ever seen.

The water was strongly scented with lavender, with tiny purple petals floating in the steaming water.

She had been scrubbed to within an inch of her life by several female servants and her hair had been soaped and rinsed three times, with the final rinse consisting of flat, dark beer.

Now, she lay back, allowing the warmth of the water to seep into her weary muscles and to clear her mind. God’s Toes, how she needed to collect herself. So much had happened in a very short amount of time and she was still reeling from it.

Nicholas, bless him, had brought her up a back route in the castle, avoiding all of the usual king’s men and the king himself.

He could see she was tired and defeated, and that she needed a chance to collect herself before going head-to-head with Alexander.

He had taken her to what had once been the room of a former princess, or that’s what he’d told her, where a flock of maids greeted them.

The apparent leader of the group, a pretty and robust young woman named Madelaine, promptly chased Nicholas away and began drilling her peers like a soldier.

In came the tub, the water, the soap, and the oils, and off went Josephine’s filthy clothes. Madelaine was preparing to burn them until Josephine stopped her, asking instead that they be washed and set aside.

All of this happened within the first hour she was there.

Washing, scrubbing, and the like. The beautiful room she was in, the Princess Room, was actually part of a three-room suite.

It was a massive chamber with twelve-foot ceilings and a carved marble fireplace that was taller than Josephine was.

Rich rugs from mysterious places covered the floor and there was an intricately carved couch upholstered in blue silk with two matching chairs.

The walls were covered with rich tapestries to create a barrier against the stone walls.

But there was more. Behind Josephine, against the wall, stood a massive mahogany wardrobe, and two carved stands flanked the bedchamber door and displayed twin alabaster vases. Surrounded by these riches, she had no doubt that she was in the castle of a king, and she found herself in awe.

After the scrubbing and washing, the servants were nowhere to be seen until she stirred in the bath and sat up.

Then, they poured in from another room and rushed in with towels, brushes, and lotions.

They didn’t touch her until she actually stepped out from the tub, and then she was vigorously dried and oiled, and then wrapped in a magnificent purple robe.

Madelaine then led her to a chair by the fire where her hair was gently combed out.

A young servant girl brought her a tray of wine, bread, and fruit, and Josephine proceeded to devour the entire plate.

She had not eaten since yesterday and she was famished.

As Josephine ate and the servants brushed and dried, Madelaine, the maid, stood back and watched the situation carefully.

She admired the lady’s luxurious hair as it dried, noticing its myriad of colors and the unearthly shine.

Having been in the house of the king since she was very young, Madelaine had seen women come and go, and she wondered who this beautiful lady was and further wondered why she was here.

She had heard nothing, nor had she been told anything, with the exception of Nicholas de Londres’ orders to prepare these particular rooms for a guest.

But it seemed to be a very special guest. Madelaine, of course, would never dream of speaking to the solemn young woman; it simply wasn’t proper.

She was a maid from a long line of maids and she knew how to behave.

Service was silent. But the young lady seemed very sad and Madelaine wished she could say an encouraging word to her without overstepping her bounds.

As Madelaine pondered the mysterious young woman, more activity started in the chamber.

Three young maids came into the room, each bearing several richly-colored surcotes.

Madelaine directed them to the giant wardrobe where they began carefully hanging the garments on the pegs, shaking them out to smooth the material.

As Madelaine supervised the garments, she happened to glance at the young woman for whom they were intended. She could see interest on the woman’s face.

“Does my lady see a cote she would like to wear?” Madelaine asked respectfully.

Josephine was caught off guard by the question.

No one had spoken to her since her arrival in the chamber, so she hadn’t been expecting the softly-uttered question.

She had no idea where the gowns came from, but she was certain the king had something to do with them.

That being the case, she had half a mind to put her combat clothes back on, to display her complete dissatisfaction with the king’s decision and to protest the manner in which she was being used.

But she knew that wouldn’t go over well and she truly had no desire to fight tooth and nail with the king, at least at this point.

She was in his house, surrounded by his men, and things could go very badly for her.

She was defiant but she wasn’t stupid. She would only fight a battle she could win and, right now, there was no chance of that.

But her chance would come.

“I have no preference,” she said, looking away from the garments displayed. “You choose for me.”

Madelaine did. She ordered the maids working over Josephine and drying her hair to work faster. The lady must be dressed, she said. As the servants began to move with a more clipped pace, Madelaine thoughtfully selected a garment she believed would suit the lady quite well.

But Josephine paid no attention; her mind was turning from the king and his complete control over her to Andrew and Torridon.

In truth, her thoughts were never far from them.

They’d been heavily on her mind for the past two days and continued to be.

Most of all, she wondered what was happening with them at this moment.

She was saddened beyond words, feeling anguish that she could do nothing about.

All she wanted to do was go home.

But that was not to be at this moment. She had to face the king and the situation at hand.

Madelaine broke her from her train of thought as she came to her with a beautiful emerald-green silk with gold trim.

As the woman held it up for her, Josephine realized the woman wanted to dress her in it.

So Josephine stood reluctantly and allowed the woman and her little minions to dress her in fine, white shift with an embroidered bodice, another shift that was heavier and had a ruffle along the hem, before having her step into the green silk.

In truth, the surcote was as fine as any she had ever seen.

With the snug V-shaped neckline accentuating her full breasts and with the long sleeves hugging her long arms, she found the gown to be most beautiful.

Madelaine took a matching green ribbon and tied it about her head, pulling her hair from her face.

On her feet were placed matching shoes and stockings.

It was quite a production and Josephine had never had so much help dressing.

All she had to do was stand there and let the maids do all of the work.

A knock at the door shattered the calm efficiency of the room and Josephine could feel her heart leap with fear.

Who had come for her? Fully dressed, she moved over towards the windows, as far as she could get away from the door, while the servants scattered back into the shadows. Madelaine was left to open the door.

It was Nicholas. He entered and immediately caught sight of Josephine in the voluminous surcote. He smiled gently as he went to her, his eyes brushing over her.

“Ye look as beautiful as I have ever seen ye,” he said.

Josephine smiled modestly and looked down at the gown. “Are you to thank for this?”