Page 28 of When I Fall in Love (De Piaget #4)

J ennifer stood in the middle of Isabelle’s room and knew exactly what it felt like to be Cinderella. Only her fairy godmothers were the relatives of the man she loved.

Joanna had brought her back to Isabelle’s bedroom where Jennifer had found Isabelle, Anne, and the lady Gwennelyn waiting for her. She had been plunked right into a tub and scrubbed from head to toe. She’d briefly considered being embarrassed, but they seemed to think it a perfectly normal thing to do, so she didn’t bother.

Once she was dried off and swathed in a shift of something so soft it felt like the finest of modem cotton, she was placed in front of the fire, where Anne combed out her hair. Once that was done, Joanna motioned to Gwen.

“Bring out the gowns, love, and let us see what suits her.”

Jennifer sat next to the fire and watched as several gowns were produced and held up for her inspection. She assumed they were Gwen’s since they were in the style of what Jennifer had seen her wear. There were four dresses that were very simply made but quite lovely. Joanna waved them away and called for the fancier ones. Jennifer stared in fascination at the remaining four dresses the women held up for her to look at.

There was a gown of vivid red, one of emerald green, one of a soft peach, and yet another of a deep blue. All were worked with embroidery and pearls and heaven knew what else. Jennifer looked at Gwen and struggled for the right tone.

“My lady,” she said seriously, “I appreciate the offer, but I couldn’t wear any of them.”

Gwen looked at her in surprise. “But why not?”

“Because they are too nice,” Jennifer said honestly. “If you want to loan me something to wear tonight, I’d rather have it be something less expensive.”

“Loan?” Gwen said, looking confused. “But these are your dresses, Jennifer.”

“Mine?” she echoed faintly.

“Well, of course, gel,” Joanna said briskly. “Dresses, shifts, shoes—everything needful and many other things not needful and extremely luxurious that a woman might want in order to feel beautiful.”

Jennifer blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“Nicky had them made for you,” Gwen said, with a gentle smile. “Didn’t you know?”

It was amazing how quickly one could go from baffled to overcome. Jennifer felt her eyes begin to burn. That didn’t last long because her tears began and eased that burning. She felt an arm go around her shoulders and a cloth be put into her hands. She wiped her eyes, then looked at Anne who was kneeling next to her. Anne smiled.

“Nicky has exquisite taste. He has spared no expense here.”

“You could purchase a small castle with what the blue one cost him,” Joanna noted impassively. She looked at Jennifer. “He must be very fond of you, indeed.”

Gwen laughed softly. “Mother, you know he is. And why not? She’s a lovely girl. Come, Jennifer, and have a closer look at your dresses. Anne has it aright. Nicholas has very fine taste. These will all suit you beautifully.”

Jennifer rose unsteadily and walked across the chamber.

She reached out hesitantly to touch the embroidery on the blue gown that Gwen was holding.

“Do you mind?” she asked quietly.

“Mind?” Gwen echoed with a smile. “That he loves you?”

“I don’t know that he does,” Jennifer said with a half smile. “I meant that he had been so generous.” She paused. “To someone you don’t know.”

Gwen smiled. “Jennifer, my son is a man full grown. I trust him to know his own heart. If it would ease your mind about my opinion of you, let us take tomorrow and spend it together in my solar. We’ll stitch in peace and talk.”

Jennifer nodded, because she could do nothing else.

I’m asking you to stay with me and see if this life might suit you.

Nicholas’s words came back to her. She was beginning to believe he might just be serious, if he was willing to lay out a small fortune to see her clothed properly.

She put her shoulders back and smiled at Gwen. “Aye, my lady,” she said in her best medieval Norman French, “that would be lovely.”

“Now we’ve settled that,” Joanna said, “let’s be about preparing this miss for the evening. Isabelle, bring over that light-colored gown. Anne, bring the green. I will take this daring red business myself, then we’ll hold them up to her and see which one suits her best. Jennifer?”

“Aye, my lady?”

“Don’t weep on these gowns. You’ll ruin them.”

Jennifer sniffed a final time. “I’m fine.”

Gwen smiled. “Aye, you are at that. Now, Mother, what do you think? I think we should save the blue for another time. It is the finest of the four.”

“I agree,” Joanna said. “Anne, come over here and give your opinion.”

Jennifer held each of the three remaining gowns up to herself and found herself being scrutinized by four medieval women of high rank.

She was enormously grateful they liked her.

“The red is breathtaking,” Gwen said. She smiled at Jennifer. “Not many women could wear it. Nicholas chose well.”

“Aye, but I say this pale one is the one for tonight,” Joanna said. She took the red gown away and handed Jennifer the peach dress. “Not another woman in the keep would dare wear such a color for fear it would make them look as pale as death.” She looked at Anne. “What do you think, love?”

Anne nodded. “You have it aright, Lady Joanna. Isabelle, what do you think?”

Jennifer found Isabelle smiling at her. “I think she’s beautiful in all of them,” she offered, “but this is especially lovely. I know I could not wear it.”

“I would hesitate as well,” Anne said. “But Jennifer’s hair compliments it and her skin is flawless.” She smiled. “As I said before, Nicholas has exquisite taste. But you gave him an equally lovely woman to dress.” She reached out and fingered a sleeve. “He will be pleased.”

Jennifer watched them put away the other gowns in a trunk, then she stood and let them dress her. She was then given a chair and Anne and Isabelle worked on her hair.

Joanna and Gwen drew up chairs and conversed about the families camping all over the keep, hoping their daughters would make a match before they left. Jennifer tried to ignore what they were saying, but it wasn’t easy. The women were, from what she could tell, enormously wealthy and very well connected.

Joanna took her hand suddenly. Jennifer looked at her, surprised.

“My lady?”

“Are you listening?”

“I’m trying not to,” Jennifer said honestly.

Gwen laughed. “I can’t blame her.”

“I can.” Joanna looked at her frankly. “These are the families who make up Nicholas’s world. You’d best know their names, at least. You won’t be able to ignore them if you choose to wed him, you know.”

“Wed?” Jennifer echoed weakly. “My lady, I don’t think he’s thinking—”

“Well, of course he’s thinking,” Joanna interrupted. “Do you honestly believe he would clothe you with gowns of this quality if he weren’t thinking about marriage? Or make you a sword—though the advisability of that is still in question in my mind. A man does not clothe his mistress so richly.” She patted Jennifer’s hand. “Learn the names of the families who will be there tonight.”

“Of course,” Jennifer murmured. She smoothed down her dress. She supposed Nicholas’s grandmother had a point, but then again, Nicholas’s grandmother didn’t know all her secrets.

Give me a fortnight ...

Well, maybe that included giving the same to his family. Jennifer clasped her hands in her lap and looked at Nicholas’s grandmother.

“I’ll listen this time.”

“As you should,” Joanna said approvingly. “Now, we’ll begin with the least powerful and work upward. Ida of Louth is the daughter of William of Louth and the cousin of that worthless and penniless Gavin—”

Jennifer listened. She got all the names right when Joanna quizzed her on them two hours later. She didn’t cry and ruin her gown.

A good afternoon, by anyone’s standards.

And the peach silk felt glorious against her skin. The only thing she could have wished for was a mirror. Anne and Isabelle had changed her hair twice, but finally seemed satisfied with the result. All four of Nicholas’s relatives took a final look at her and pronounced her perfect. Jennifer supposed she had no choice but to take their word for it.

“Remember,” Joanna said finally, “that Nicholas is the lord of Wyckham and the Count of Beauvois. He has more wealth than any gel’s father below. When you wed him, you will sit higher at the table than everyone below save Brigit of Islington, though you will equal her in station. Comport yourself accordingly.”

“Of course, my lady.”

Joanna clapped her hands and rose. “Off to supper, then. I think we’re late.”

Jennifer rose as well, then looked at them all. “Thank you,” she said simply. “You’ve been very kind.”

“You’ve made my son smile,” Gwen said gently. “How can we not repay that kindness with one of our own?”

“Besides,” Joanna said with a conspiratorial smile, “I like the way you look at my grandson. I’ve never seen a gel look at him quite that way and believe me, I’ve seen my share of gels staring at him.”

“No doubt you have, Mother,” Gwen said with a laugh.

“Don’t you agree, dear?” Joanna asked Gwen. “She looks at him as if she likes him despite all his flaws.”

“Does he have flaws?” Jennifer asked, then bit her lip and laughed. “I suppose he does.”

“He doesn’t,” Anne said. “None that I’ve ever seen.”

“Nor have I,” Isabelle agreed. “I think Nicky is perfect.”

“You think he’s perfect, little one, because he brings you home very expensive presents every time he goes abroad,” Joanna said dryly.

“And because he’s kind to her,” Gwen added. “He’s a good man. But I might be biased.”

Jennifer only smiled as she walked to the door and listened to the women discuss Nicholas’s good points, of which there seemed to be many.

Of course, she had to agree.

“Now,” Joanna said, pausing at the door, “let us see if my Nicky manages to put one foot in front of the other once he sees his lady.” She drew Jennifer’s arm through hers and led her from the chamber. “Follow along, gels, and note every expression you see. We’ll discuss them all at length later.”

Jennifer smiled. It was such a normal thing to do, to plan to scope out others at a party, that she almost felt at ease—and ease was not something she had yet to feel in the company of all the nobility Joanna had brought with her. She let Joanna go down the stairs first and hoped to heaven she wouldn’t trip and go rolling down them after her. She bumped into Nicholas’s grandmother at the bottom.

“Sorry,” she said nervously.

Joanna turned around. “Jennifer,” she began, “let us discuss your entrance. You will walk out into the hall, go before the high table, and curtsey to Rhys.”

“I can do that.”

“Then you will come and take your place next to me. Let Nicholas gape at you all he likes. Trust me, I’ll be marking his every expression to describe to you in the greatest of detail tonight whilst we’re abed. First you will dance with Robin, then Miles. Then, and only then, will I allow Nicholas to approach. You may dance with him once.”

“Once?” Jennifer asked with a light sigh.

“He must dance with the others,” Joanna said with a smile, “but then I suppose you may dance with him as many times as you like.”

Jennifer blinked hard. She took Joanna’s hands, then bent and kissed her wizened cheek. “Thank you.”

Joanna pulled her out into the great hall. She released her hand. “Rhys, first.”

Jennifer wasn’t unaccustomed to being in front of an audience. After all, playing Paganini in New York City wasn’t a walk in the park. She was just performing in front of people she didn’t know and didn’t care about.

She put her shoulders back and stepped forward confidently, as if she had every right to be in a medieval hall, clothed by a medieval lord, and preparing to take a medieval household by storm.

There was absolute silence as she entered. She imagined she might have heard a gasp or two.

She walked to the front of the high table, turned to face Rhys, and made him her most elegant curtsey. She straightened and looked at him. She had to admit that she also stole a brief look at Nicholas.

He was gaping at her as if he’d never seen her before.

Rhys got up, walked around the table, and made her a bow. He then offered her his arm and escorted her to her place. She sat down and was grateful for it. She didn’t think she would have managed to stand up much longer.

“Nicely done,” Joanna said. “Was Nicky smiling?”

Jennifer took a deep breath. “I don’t think so.”

Joanna leaned forward to look down the table, then sat back. “You have that aright. I daresay he looks as if he’s trying not to leap over his father and have you right here.”

“My lady!” Jennifer gasped.

Joanna waved her hand dismissively. “The purview of the elderly. I can be as offensive as I like and no one cares.”

Jennifer smiled affectionately. “I like you very much.”

“Good. I’ll live forever so plan on me visiting your hall for decades to come.”

“I could only hope,” Jennifer murmured.

“Eat, gel. You’ll need your strength.”

Jennifer ate, but tasted little of it. She was too busy running over dance steps in her head. They weren’t difficult, but she wasn’t exactly at her best. When Robin asked for a dance, she took a deep breath and hoped she wouldn’t make a fool of herself.

“I loathe dancing,” he said happily as he led her out into the middle of the hall.

“Then why do you do it?”

“All for Anne,” Robin admitted.

Jennifer found it in her to smile. She was grateful for Robin’s muttered curses as he concentrated on his feet. One thing she could say for him: at least he kept them from plowing into the other dancers. His complete disgust with the whole activity, which she mentally contrasted with his joy in the lists, was enough to make her laugh.

One dance was all he could muster before he turned her over to Miles. Miles offered her his arm and smiled at her.

“You are stunning,” he said honestly.

“Blame the women of your family,” she said easily. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“Well,” he said with a dry smile, “it wasn’t as if they were trying to make something from nothing. The gown is lovely, but you are luminous. I’m jealous as hell of my brother.”

“You aren’t,” she protested.

“I am,” he said honestly. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have me? I have no money, no keep of my own, and only modest sword skill, but I vow I would obtain all three in abundance if you would be mine.” He paused. “I would ask Nick if you could keep that dress.”

She smiled and squeezed his hand. “I am not the woman for you, Miles, but I appreciate the offer.”

“So you say,” Miles said with a frown, “yet you will not wed with me—”

“Count yourself fortunate,” came a shrill voice from next to them. “I daresay you wouldn’t wish to align yourself with a woman of no rank at all.”

Jennifer looked over her shoulder. It was Brigit of Islington, the most beautiful of the lot, and the most powerful. Jennifer inclined her head.

“Forgive us,” Jennifer said politely. “We’ve danced into your space.”

“You’ve done more than that,” Brigit said in a cold voice. “And trust me, demoiselle , all the beautiful clothes in the world cannot make up for the fact that you are nothing. I’ve never heard of you and I know everyone of rank.”

“I’m sure you do,” Jennifer said with a mildness she certainly didn’t feel.

“You’ll never have him, you strumpet,” she hissed. “I’ll see to it.”

Jennifer backed up a pace, but found that she’d bumped into someone. She turned around to find Nicholas standing there. His eyes were so cold, she flinched. She was very, very grateful she wasn’t the recipient of his glare. Apparently Brigit was tougher than she looked because she didn’t give any sign of distress. She only curtseyed to Nicholas and gave him a welcoming smile.

“My lord. You have come to dance.”

“Aye,” Nicholas said simply. He put his hand on Miles’s shoulder and sent him away.

Miles, to his credit, went without hesitation.

Nicholas looked at Jennifer. “My lady, if you would excuse me a moment?”

“Surely longer than a mere moment,” Brigit protested. “My lord, you have more sense than this. A peasant dressed in fine clothes?” She laughed scornfully. “And so she will always be.”

Jennifer wasn’t unaccustomed to venom. After all, one didn’t get to the top of the heap in music without a little back-biting. But she was completely out of her element here. Was Brigit going to pull out a little dirk and stab her next?

“Wait for me,” Nicholas said to her in Gaelic, then he looked at Brigit. “Now, my lady,” he said with a pleasant smile, “if you will allow me?” He offered her his arm with a small bow.

Brigit shot Jennifer a look of supreme triumph and put her hand on Nicholas’s arm as if it was nothing more than her due.

The dancers stopped to watch. Even the musicians stopped playing to watch them walk across the floor. Jennifer bit her lip. Was that the sort of woman he was supposed to marry? Likely so, if Joanna had brought her to market. Jennifer shook her head at the thought. To think of Nicholas stuck with that shrew for the rest of his life ... well, she couldn’t imagine it.

Nicholas escorted Brigit over to her seat. Jennifer had no idea what he said to Brigit, but she sat immediately. Brigit looked around Nicholas and shot Jennifer a look of absolute loathing.

Jennifer gulped in spite of herself. Well, there was someone to keep an eye on.

Then Nicholas turned, nodded to the musicians, and walked across the floor. Jennifer took a deep breath as he stopped in front of her and held out his hand.

“That was interesting,” she said in Gaelic.

“Wasn’t it, though,” he agreed. “Dance with me?”

“I would love to,” she said, and they began. “I have to tell you that I’d give my right arm to be anywhere but here right now. I’d suggest we bolt for the stables, but I don’t want to ruin my dress.”

“Ignore them all,” Nicholas said with a nonchalant shrug. “I plan to.”

“You didn’t make me a friend in Lady Brigit,” she noted.

“She overstepped her bounds. No one insults my lady,” he said lightly, though she could hear an edge in his voice. “No one.”

“Watch your back, then. And mine,” she added with a shiver.

“You watch my back,” he said with a smile, “and aye, I will watch yours. It will mean we must spend more time together.”

She had to smile at that. “If we must.”

“Did I tell you that you are breathtaking?”

“It’s the dress. It was made for me by a wonderful man.”

“I don’t think he did the stitching.”

“He did the choosing, though, and he has flawless taste.” She smiled. “Thank you. It was very generous.”

“If the gowns please you, then I’m satisfied.”

“Please me?” she echoed. “You can’t be serious. Your grandmother said you could buy a small castle with what the blue one cost you.”

“ ’Tis possible,” he conceded. “Save it for a special time, then.”

“I will.” She smiled. “I think we need to stop talking. I can’t remember the steps. Don’t look at me that way, either.”

“How am I looking at you?”

“Like I’m a veal you’d like to carve up for supper.”

He laughed. “Forgive me. I’ll be quiet, I won’t ogle you, and I won’t tread upon the hem of your gown. I likely shouldn’t kiss you here, either, should I?”

“Likely not,” she said.

“Will Grandmère allow me to walk you up to your bedchamber?”

“Definitely not,” she said. “But there’s always tomorrow. I still have Montgomery’s clothes.”

“I’ll think of a plan. Silently.”

She nodded with a smile, then she was forced to concentrate on what she was doing. Dancing was not her forte, though Miles and Montgomery had done a very good job teaching her the steps. What she didn’t know, she faked as best she could. Nicholas was very good at keeping her from making a complete fool of herself, silently and without stepping on her dress.

And when the song was finished, he looked at her with a very small smile.

“I must dance with the others,” he said gravely. “Once. Then I will return for you.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“I hoped you’d say that.”

S everal hours and several more dances later, Jennifer was in bed, enduring Joanna’s ice-cold toes on her shins. She didn’t dare shiver.

“Well?” she asked.

“He couldn’t take his eyes off you,” Joanna said promptly. “He put that strumpet from Islington in her place, didn’t he? Did you watch him dance with her? He the epitome of good manners and she looking as if she still planned to besiege him with the tenacity of a seasoned warrior. He was utterly unmoved.” Joanna chuckled. “She isn’t overfond of you, is she?”

“Apparently not,” Jennifer said with a smile.

“Aye, well, forget her. I imagine Nicholas has. Now, what of you? Did you enjoy yourself?”

“I felt like a princess,” Jennifer said with a half laugh. “It was magical.”

“Being in love with do that for a gel,” Joanna said philosophically. “Now, I thought I should take the opportunity to enumerate all of my sweet Nicky’s finer qualities for you. Shall I begin in his youth and describe how he developed them, or simply list them from one end to the other?”

“Whatever will take longer,” Jennifer said with a smile.

Joanna patted her cheek. “What a good gel you are. Now, when he was but a wee lad of six summers...”

Jennifer listened happily to a recounting of Nicholas de Piaget’s history that would have impressed even the family historians at Artane.

Maybe they were descended from Joanna.

She wouldn’t have been surprised.

She spared a brief thought for Lady Brigit, then decided she wasn’t worth the effort. It was obvious Nicholas wanted nothing to do with her. Maybe she would find herself offended enough to leave right away.

Well, whatever she did, it wouldn’t affect them. Jennifer tucked her hands under her pillow and listened with pleasure to what promised to be hours of details about a man who had given her a Cinderella evening.

How could she not love him?