The Holding by Claudia Dain

Author:Claudia Dain
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: 0
Published: 2014-06-08T21:00:00+00:00

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Chapter Ten

Kendall had seated himself on the other side of Lady Cathryn, and between him and Father Godfrey, had helped disguise the emptiness of William's chair. Dinner had long since been finished. Men sat in scattered groups throughout the hall, some playing chess and backgammon, others in quiet conversation. It was a warm and homey scene, yet an undercurrent of uneasiness ran over them all. William was closeted with Rowland, and that boded ill.

Rowland had been a very specter of doom since he had first sat to sup. That he was informing William of some dire circumstance was without question. How it would affect them was the only mystery, and would be clear only when William returned, for it was as unlike William to conceal his intent as it was unlike Rowland to reveal it.

"Lady Cathryn," an unfamiliar voice began. Kendall looked up and beheld a man of Greneforde, he was unsure exactly whom, fondling the floppy ear of a large brown dog. "Lady Cathryn," he said again, the attention of all who sat at high table upon him now, "would you please sing for us?"

Kendall smothered the urge to chuckle. Cathryn to sing? And how could any verse strung on pretty notes come to life if sung by a woman as bloodless and chill of heart as the Lady Cathryn? The man must be truly desperate for song to ask it of such a woman, beautiful though she was.

William's wife lacked the sensibility to blush and avert her gaze. It would not be beyond possibility that William would send away for a good Frenchwoman to teach his lady the most basic course in chivalric love. It would be only out of love for her, else he would not care if she disgraced herself with her lack of manners.

"Nay, Tybon," she declined, "though you are most kind to think of me when you think of song."

Kendall smiled at her answer, given prettily enough. It was to her credit that she embraced her shortcomings. Truly, it did not hurt her in his estimation. She was modest. It was most becoming.

"So long has it been since you have entertained us with song," Tybon argued politely, "that I would ask again, speaking for more than myself. Please, lady, a song from you would make the night warmer."

Kendall fiddled with his goblet. The freemen were more chivalrous than their lady. It was most odd.

Cathryn looked down at the hands folded compactly upon her lap, her wedding ring glistening in the flickering light. She could not help noting that the faded green she wore was not flattering to her skin, making the slender veins in her hands take on a greenish cast and masking the desired blue. The very thought disturbed her. Never before had she taken such an interest in her appearance. She was acting most unlike herself to put such thought into the color of her gown and the unfashionable golden hue of her skin. Cathryn let Tybon's request hang upon the air like a cloud; it was only after the passage of minutes that she answered.

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