Page 32 of The Sword and the Damsel (The De Veres #2)

A lais wore her new burgundy silk dress with the wide V-neck showing off the swell of her breasts, and the draping bell sleeves that reached the bottom of her skirt. It was made from fabric purchased in Hastings, and it made her feel like a queen. On her head, she wore a matching hat that curved up on the sides like horns and had a delicate veil draping down in back. Her hair was tucked demurely beneath a sheer veil that hung down the back, down to her shoulders. Around her neck was the double-stranded pearl necklace with an enormous ruby medallion that had belonged to Victor’s mother.

Dora sighed as she stood back to look at her work. “You look magnificent, my lady. Sir Victor won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

Alais laughed. “Sir Victor couldn’t take his eyes off me if I was wearing a lumpy brown sack.” She examined herself in the mirror. “But I do quite enjoy stunning him into speechlessness. It’s getting harder these days, you know. He says he’s started to get used to me. But I bet this dress will do the trick.”

“You should go down to the great hall, my lady. They’ll all be waiting for you.”

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She gave Dora a quick hug.

“Oh, go on with you.” Dora shooed her away with one hand and dabbed her eyes with a hankie with the other.

As Alais walked down the beloved halls of the castle and down the grand staircase to the great hall, she found herself pondering the changes the last year had brought. Birthdays always made her pensive, though she would never admit it to anyone else. How different her life was now than it was a year ago! She still lived in the castle in Winchelsea with her family, but she felt like a different person. It wasn’t only that she was married now. She’d changed inside. It was as if she used to float along on the surface of life, and now there was so much more. She used to live for attention, starved for affection, and now she felt…content? Could that be? And useful too. Who would have expected that?

She walked into the great hall to see the people she cared about most in the world seated around the table. First, she looked at Victor who, she was delighted to see, dropped his wine goblet on seeing her. She gave him a look full of smoldering promise, biting her lip. By God, he was delectable. He came and offered his arm to take her to her seat.

“Where were you all morning?” he murmured in her ear as they walked, or really processed. Yes, they were a two-person procession, she decided.

“I went down to the Bird’s Nest.” A woman named Jane, who bore a striking resemblance to her, had started a home for women seeking to leave prostitution and abusive homes, and Alais had taken a charitable interest in seeing that it was well-provisioned. When Victor confessed his familiarity with Jane, she couldn’t stop laughing for half a day. He was so worried about what she’d think, but it only served as further proof he’d been infatuated with her from the start, even when he thought his suit was hopeless.

“It’s amazing what she’s done with the place. You’d never know it used to be a brothel. The Sisters from the Abbey are supporting our efforts as well now. It’s incredible what she’s accomplished in such a short time.”

“What you’ve both been able to accomplish,” he whispered in her ear as he pulled out her chair so that she could sit. “I know how hard you worked.” Louder, so that the rest of the table could hear, he said, “You are a truly amazing woman, Alais, and I am the luckiest man alive.”

Giles, who came over from Guestling for the festivities, yelled “Hear! Hear!” in her father’s ear. Her parents raised their glasses in agreement.

“Maybe the second luckiest,” Daniel quipped, kissing Carenza’s hand.

“We shall have to agree to disagree,” Victor answered with a laugh.

“You’re both wrong,” her father said, shaking his head with a smile. “Because not only do I have the best wife in the world but the best daughters.” At that, everyone cheered and raised a glass. “And my sons-in-law aren’t bad either,” he added with a conciliatory grin.

“Not that it’s a competition,” Giles interjected, “but I have the best son, the best daughter-in-law, and…” he looked around the table for dramatic effect, narrowing his eyes, “the best cook.” Everyone burst into laughter at that.

“Marie is here, by the way,” he told Alais in a loud whisper that everyone could hear. “I brought her along. I thought you might like some proper cooking on your birthday.”

“Lord Giles,” Carenza interjected. “I believe I can outdo even you. You see, I have the best husband, the best parents, the best sisters, the best son, and…” she paused, “the best troubadour.”

“You?” Daniel asked with an innocent smile.

“Hush your nonsense! You know I meant you,” she snapped back in mock outrage.

“Oh, Carenza,” Alais said, shaking her head. “I can beat you. I have the best husband, who also happens to be the best swordsman. I have the best parents, the best sisters, the best father-in-law, and…” she smiled regally, “it’s my birthday.”

Iselda stood up with her cup, looking awkward, with a nervous smile across her face. Everyone went silent and turned attentively, wondering what she could possibly say after all of that. “I love you all.” They all watched her expectantly, waiting for her to continue. “That’s all,” she said, blushing furiously and sitting down as the whole family burst into raucous shouts and applause.

The feasting began, starting with Marie’s sublime pottage, followed by snapper in red wine sauce, stuffed capons, suckling pig, and a peach tart for dessert.

“A peach tart?” Alais murmured to Victor, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t you like it?”

“It’s delicious. It’s just…”

“You’re thinking of the song.”

She nodded.

He smiled.

“Can one ever have enough peach tart? I, myself, find it quite delicious. I wonder how much peach tart I could eat in one sitting before my tongue got tired.” He reached out to squeeze her thigh beneath the table, sending a shiver up her spine.

“But I’ve eaten so much. I need some time to digest before the…um…tart eating begins.”

“Of course. No need to rush,” he said with a lascivious grin that promised a long and lugubrious night ahead.

As the meal wound to a close, Alais’s parents, Giles, and Iselda all excused themselves and headed off to bed. Daniel sent for more wine and for his friend Gerard, the troubadour, who joined them with his lute. He sang a few old favorites as they all sat and drank wine and laughed together. As the evening progressed, they all got drunker, and he moved on to some of the more risqué songs he knew, including one by Guillaume IX, Count of Poitiers, and Duke of Aquitaine, about two horses that made Alais giggle.

“Do you know the one he wrote about the cat and the man from Auvergne?” Alais asked with a devilish smile.

Gerard froze, looking around at the others with wide, worried eyes.

Victor burst out laughing. “Don’t panic, Gerard. She’s heard it before.”

“And I am the birthday girl,” she added with an ingratiating grin.

Gerard looked at Daniel, who chuckled and shrugged, and then at Carenza, who looked conflicted, but then sighed and said, “She’s an adult. She’s married. I suppose it’s past time I stopped trying to protect her innocence and defend her virtue. She’s her own woman.”

Alais stared at her. Carenza was treating her like an adult? Carenza was passing up an opportunity to scold and moralize? What was the world coming to?

“Besides,” Carenza added, “I like the song about the cat too.”

Alais gasped. “You do?”

“What do you think I am, a nun?”

At that, Alais burst into drunken giggles.

Gerard launched into an admirable performance of the cat song, almost as good as Victor’s friend, Richard. But instead of doing the ladies’ voices in falsetto, he invited Carenza to sing. To Alais’s enduring shock and wonder, Carenza knew every word.

“I’m not nearly the prude you think me, Alais,” Carenza said when they’d all recovered enough from their laughter to speak again.

“Oh?” After years of listening to Carenza’s moralizing, Alais couldn’t help being deeply skeptical.

“Here. I’ll prove it. I propose a little competition. Let’s see who can come up with the filthiest verse.”

Daniel pulled his head back, and his eyes widened. He looked down at his goblet. “I can’t tell whether I’m too drunk for this or not drunk enough.”

She waved her hand at him in the universal sign for don’t-you-worry. “It’ll be fun. We’ll each take a turn. I’ll start. Gerard, would you do the honors on the lute?

“Some years ago I wished to be a nun,

But I confess I didn’t have much fun

Until one night I stole a secret kiss

And learned that lips and tongues could lead to bliss.

But there are other places tongues can reach.

I lose my mind when my love eats my peach.”

“Your turn, Daniel,” she said, giving him an innocent smile.

“Good God,” Daniel groaned, shaking his head, and emptying his goblet. “Just please, please never breathe a word of this to anyone, especially your parents.” Alais and Carenza both stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Fine,” he grumbled and cleared his throat.

“ Pity the man who falls for a de Vere.

You’ll lose your wits and sanity I fear,

For lustful thoughts will haunt you all day long

And make you dream of things priests say are wrong.

I want to tease her ‘til she’s overcome

Then make love to her ‘til my cock goes numb.”

A look passed between him and Carenza that could have set fire to the castle’s stone walls. Alais couldn’t help blushing as she watched them. Gerard cleared his throat loudly to remind Carenza and Daniel of their audience.

“Gerard, are you blushing?” Daniel asked. His friend looked abashed and cleared his throat again. “I think you should go next.”

Fingers skittering from the lute as he missed a strum, Gerard gulped. It took him a moment to regain his rhythm and his courage. At last, he closed his eyes and launched into his verse.

“My lovely wife may not be a de Vere,

But I’m a maudlin fool when she is near.

I like a lady with an ample breast,

And nothing can compare with my love’s chest.

I love to lick and pinch her lovely tits

Until my teasing sends her into fits.”

“Victor, show us what you’ve got,” Gerard challenged, laughing with relief now that his turn was done.

Turning to Alais, his eyes full of ardor and mischief, Victor began.

“My love, I want you every waking hour

And when I sleep, I’m still under your power.

I grow hard each time I see you pass

And see the swell of your exquisite ass.

Your back is just as lovely as your front,

But nothing can compare to your sweet—”

“Nope,” Carenza interrupted, her face bright red. “Too far. She’s still my sister, after all.”

“If my verse is too filthy to let me finish, does that mean I win?” he asked, taking a sip of wine.

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“Our final contestant,” Carenza said, fixing Alais with a pointed glance.

Oh God. It’s my turn. She’d never been able to compete with Carenza in verse, but there was no way she was going to back down.

“I think perhaps it’s time to go to bed

and put in action all that you have said.

This birthday is the best I’ve ever had.

I never knew Carenza was so bad.

You’ve given me ideas for tonight.

Let’s head to bed and fuck ‘til morning’s light.”

“So who won?” she asked, giddy from her performance and definitely quite drunk.

“Who cares?” Victor said, grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet. “It’s time to go upstairs.”

And then they did, and it was a very good birthday indeed.