Soul Of A Highlander (Lairds of Dunkeld Series) (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story)(19)

The two women were quiet for a while.

“Well, milady,” Bernadette said softly after a moment.

“Yes?”

“Well, it seems to me that the only reason you hold yourself so aloof from enjoyment is because you think no one wants you around.”

Claudine nodded slowly. “I suppose you're right. Yes, Bernadette.”

Having it said so boldly to her was quite surprising. She knew Bernadette cared about her and that, if anyone knew of her struggles, it would be her companion. However, she hadn't noticed just how wise she was.

“Well, then. The best thing to do is to ignore the lot of them. They just wish they were as sweet and lovely as you.”

Claudine swallowed hard. Surprisingly, she felt a moment's sudden impatience.

“They? Jealous of me?” She snorted. “Never.”

Bernadette said nothing but Claudine noticed her skeptical look. She sighed.

“What?”

“Nothing, milady,” Bernadette said mildly. “Now. I think I'm going to do a tapestry to match the one in the solar at Pavot...”

Claudine let herself get drawn into conversation about the tapestry, allowing the impatience and sadness that had filled her just a moment or two ago to slowly drain away. She wished she didn't feel so impatient with her body, but she did. Now more than ever. She wondered if she would start to feel worthy of the attentions of Francis soon.

Perhaps he's just polite.

All in all, she thought as she followed Bernadette inside to go and find more embroidery silk somewhere, that wasn't the most likely explanation. Francis wasn't the sort to be polite just because it was expedient or expected.

His dealings with Uncle show that well enough.

Claudine was surprised at how rapidly she seemed to have changed support – where she would once have been with her uncle on any matter whatsoever, on the matter of her own conduct she suddenly felt reluctant to take his word.

It seems sometimes like Uncle would rather I didn't recover ever.

She snorted and Bernadette looked up from where she rummaged through a chest of cloth.

“Yes?”

Claudine sighed. “Nothing, Bernadette. Sorry to disturb.”

“You didn't,” Bernadette said quickly. “I was just looking for a color that will make forget-me-nots on the tapestry...would you say this is it?”

Claudine nodded in surprise at the skein of intense blue silk, the color of the sky just above the hills at noon.

“That looks perfect,” she nodded.

“Good.”

They found their materials and were just leaving the storeroom when Claudine heard other ladies arrive.

“Oh, and did you see? I won the match of battledore and shuttlecock...”

“Oh! Well done, Emilia.”

Claudine felt sad, hearing them talk about their physical pursuits – dancing, playing in the courtyard, even some riding. These were things she'd never do herself. Rather hadn't done for years now.

“Oh, Lady Claudine,” one of them said, standing back in the door as Claudine slipped out. She recognized Lady Nicolene. “I didn't see you there.”

Claudine gritted her teeth as the five ladies stood back to let her pass, and she felt their gaze hang on her as she walked slowly and painfully between them. Bernadette was at her side but she didn't offer to help her stand, aware that Claudine would feel even more awkward.

She endured their stares and the silence until she reached the doorway. By the time they were through, she could feel hot tears of indignation prick her eyes.

“Oh, milady,” her companion whispered gently. “Oh, my.”

Claudine sniffed fiercely. “I'm sorry, Bernadette,” she said in a small voice. “It's just...why is it that they have to be like that? Have to make me feel so clumsy, so foolish? And don't tell me they're jealous. I won't believe so.”

Bernadette sighed. “I won't tell you,” she said. Claudine looked sideways at her.

“But...”

“But it doesn't mean it isn't true,” her companion added.

Claudine couldn't help it. She smiled.

“Thank you, Bernadette.”

“It's nothing, milady.”

The two of them walked slowly back up the hallway to the wing where the bedchambers were to find her bedchamber. It was time for afternoon rest.





CHAPTER SIX





GETTING TO KNOW MORE





GETTING TO KNOW MORE





Francis walked moodily through the colonnade. He couldn't stop thinking about the lady he had seen at the ball, and in the courtyard before that. He knew it was foolish of him, but she had moved him in a way no other lady ever had.

It's those eyes. No, her sweet, pouting mouth. No, her hair...

He sighed. It was all of those things, and more than any of them. His body was tormented by lust for her, but his heart felt already a fierce regard. She was special. She was different.

Is that her?

He tensed. He could see a figure sitting in the courtyard, on the edge of the fountain. She was bent over something. Embroidery. He walked closer, feeling his heart thumping in his chest.

He leaned against a pillar, looking over. It was her. The curls of her blond hair ruffled in the breeze, her lips parted in concentration, she was stunning.