Soul Of A Highlander (Lairds of Dunkeld Series) (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story)(12)

“There you are, milady...”

Claudine looked in the mirror as Bernadette finished. She put her head on one side, eyeing the reflected image with reserved approval. Neither tall nor short, with a sweet hourglass waist and full, high breasts, the girl in the mirror was delicate, soft, and lovely. Combined with big blue eyes and a rosebud of a mouth just a little darker than the gown, the reflected girl was pretty and delicate. Was she pretty enough though? Claudine felt a stab of nerves for the first time. She let Bernadette finish her hair and then turned toward her nervously.

“You look beautiful, milady,” Bernadette assured her, though Claudine hadn't asked her for assurance.

She smiled at her maid and took a little turn in front of the mirror. Then she headed downstairs slowly. She was leaning on the hand rail for support, taking her time, listening to the voices below where they drifted up from the hallway outside the great hall.

“And of course we will have to see if the road has been cleared up to that part of the forest...” she heard a man saying. She recognized that voice. It was her uncle.

She felt her fingers fidget with her sleeves and wondered why she felt a little nervous of seeing Uncle Lucas this morning.

He seemed a bit disapproving of my manners last night. I suppose I was out of turn with Lord Francis.

She quelled her nerves and headed down the stairs. Walking slowly, wishing she could use the cane she sometimes used – she never used it in public – she tiptoed across the hallway, heading for the arched entrance to the great hall.

“Niece!” her uncle called out, catching sight of her. “A pleasure to see you. I trust you slept well? No aches of the joints or back?”

Claudine shook her head. At that moment, she wished he wouldn't remind her of her debility. Sometimes she preferred to forget about it. “No, Uncle,” she said softly. “I slept very well.”

“Good,” he said with a gentle smile. “That's good. I was just about to go in for some breakfast.”

“Yes, me too,” Claudine said lightly. She slipped in at the back of her uncle's group and followed them in.

The hall was full of guests. The palace had two halls – one where the resident nobles ate, and another where the knights and men-at-arms would take their meals. The royal family themselves usually dined in the solar alone unless it was a formal occasion. Claudine followed her uncle to a seat at one of the tables, sitting down demurely.

“Ah, Lady Claudine,” one of her uncle's acquaintances, a brown-haired man of around uncle's age with startling blue eyes, said. “I trust you slept well after retiring from the ball. Myself I didn't...over at the eastern wing you hear all the din from in the courtyard...terrible.”

Claudine smiled at him. The count of Arras, he was from the Northern part of the kingdom and a good friend – forthright and open. “I can imagine, sir,” she commented.

“I wish I could have!” he laughed, reaching for a slice of cheese from a central platter. “I would have asked for a room on the western side, then.”

Claudine giggled. “I'm sorry to hear it.”

“So was I.”

Claudine noted her uncle look over in their direction with a mild look of approval. She felt relieved until she saw his eyes narrow slightly. She frowned.

What bothered him?

A moment later, she heard a low, familiar voice in her ear. “My lady? Is this place open for use?”

“Oh!” Claudine turned round abruptly. She felt color flood her cheeks as she realized who it was. The man from the ball. “Of course,” she murmured.

“Thank you,” he said and slipped into the seat beside her. He was about four places down the table from her uncle, who sat opposite, but she noted him look at Francis and give him a cold stare. She frowned. Why?

Then Francis turned to face her and she forgot about her uncle suddenly.

“You also rise early, it seems?” he asked.

Claudine nodded shyly. “Yes, I do. The mornings are so beautiful here.”

“Yes,” Francis agreed. “I saw the sunrise from my window...so beautiful.”

“Indeed yes,” Claudine murmured. “Though I am in the western side of the castle, so don't see it directly.”

“Oh.” Francis frowned. “A pity that.”

“Not really,” Claudine giggled. “My lord the count of Arras tells me it was very noisy there.”

Francis blinked. “Not very,” he demurred. “Though yes, there were some rowdy folk out there. I think some men-at-arms had a little too much ale.”

“Oh.” Claudine smiled. “I can imagine there was quite some noise.”

“There was.”

She smiled at him and he smiled back. She blushed. With those full lips and that high brow above a long, elegant nose, he was so handsome! Combined with the red hair and green eyes, he was enchanting to her. She could sit and look at him all day! She realized she was staring and tore her gaze to her hands. When she looked up again, her uncle was frowning at them.

There it is again, that disapproval! Why would he be so? He should be glad I'm talking to someone, since he always tells me I have an awkward way with people.

“My lady?” Francis was asking. She looked into his honest green eyes.

“Yes, sir?”

“Forgive me but I wished to be introduced?”