Goddess of Legend (Goddess Summoning #7)(31)

GWEN continued to giggle, even as she had sadness wrapped around her heart. 'Twas so apparent why Arthur had pressed her to visit the countess and listen to her views. He had become enamored with the woman.

In truth Gwen could not blame him. Isabel was a lovely woman and one who had opinions she openly voiced. Arthur much appreciated listening to the opinions of others. 'Twas one of his most appealing qualities. One she had always admired.

Gwen loved Arthur. She had loved him from the moment they had met. And yet it had taken Lancelot to make her realize that love and admiration were not equal to love and need.

Needing Lancelot, loving him, was a power like no other. Much as she loved and admired her husband, her need for Lancelot rode over everything, truly marring her good sense and tremendous responsibility. Not to mention those vows she had spoken. Those sacred vows.

"Gwen?"

Gwen shook her head and brought herself back to the moment. "Oh, I deeply apologize. I wandered deep in thought."

Isabel's eyes searched her face. "You seem to be troubled." She fingered the beautiful necklace around her neck, and Gwen could not seem to stop herself from saying, "I am, Countess. But it has naught to do with why I have sought your advice."

"Still, I am here to listen, should you want to voice what seems to be bothering you."

Gwen, eyes fixated on the necklace, said. "We . . . we have much to discuss about the workings of Camelot."

Mary attempted to bow out, but Isabel refused to allow her leave. "Please brush my hair, Mary. And then braid it as before. Plus, I would like your thoughts upon matters."

Mary glanced nervously at Gwen, apparently fearing punishment at the mere idea that her thoughts should be voiced or desired. In truth, Gwen herself was rather shocked at the concept. Servants being asked their opinions? 'Twas such a foreign concept. However, she could not, in truth, find a single reason to demand otherwise. She nodded her agreement to both the countess and Mary.

As Mary began to use the unusual brush Isabel owned, Gwen turned her attention back to her own beliefs. That Isabel would allow a servant to stay as they spoke about intimate details was not so unusual. Yet loyal servants were much like a comfortable piece of furniture. To be appreciated, but silent. And deaf.

"No wonder Arthur is so taken with you," she blurted.

Both Isabel and Mary went still.

"I understand, Isabel."

"I do not know what you believe you understand," Isabel said, although the color rising on her cheeks was a bit of a tell.

"I believe you understand very well. You were the one to talk Arthur into" - Gwen glanced at Mary, no longer seeing her as a silent piece of furniture, but as a young girl who soaked up knowledge as she attempted to grow into womanhood - "discussing matters with me he has obviously been avoiding for some time."

Isabel wrapped her dressing robe closer around her body. "Honesty is always best."

"Honesty betimes stabs, do you agree?"

"It often does," Isabel said, nodding. "But secrets often stab much deeper."

Gwen felt herself blush, but she could not bring herself to look away from Isabel's probing, yet somehow sympathetic eyes. "I do understand that, this morn. Yester morn I may have had a very different answer."

Isabel reached out and laid a hand over hers. "I am so sorry if I have turned Camelot upside down. It was not my intent. My only suggestion to Arthur was to be as honest with you as he would have you be with him."

Mary cleared her throat. "Pardon my interruption, your hair is done, mum. Unless you require further assistance, I will very happily take my leave."

Isabel sat back with a chuckle. "You are a good soul, Mary. I believe that many of your fellow workers would want to stay and listen to as much as possible."

Mary's freckles bloomed red. "I could not say, mum."

Isabel stood. "Well, I was hoping you'd help me get into one of those gown contraptions, but I suppose I can find one I will be able to lace up myself."

Mary lit up. "I know just the one, m'lady. 'Tis one of my favorites." She almost skipped to the wardrobe and, after shuffling around, brought out and laid a teal-colored gown on Isabel's bed. Although Isabel doubted the word teal had even been invented yet, just like pink.

Mary beamed even brighter as she turned in triumph. "I know not from whence this color comes, but with your hair and fair skin, I feel it will look beauteous on you, m'lady. And 'tis also easy for you to lace up yourself."

Gwen hid a grin. "You very much wish to escape Isabel's chamber, do you not, Mary?"

"Oh, yes, me queen. Overly much."

Isabel frowned. "Have I upset you, Mary?"

"No, Countess, no!" Mary said, wringing her hands. "You have been nothing but kind to me. I would wish for all guests to be such."

"But you do not want to stay to help us in the discussion of how to make the working women find a bit of joy?"

Mary pursed her lips. "Have you, perhaps, moved further in your discussions than secrets and such? I truly do not want to be part of that. 'Tis not my place."

Gwen stood and locked eyes with Isabel. "We have, Mary. That is a discussion for another time. I now have need to listen to Countess Isabel's discussion of joy for the women of Camelot. And the countess, it appears, would very much appreciate what you would have to opine in the matter."