The Scot by Mecca Cecelia

Author:Mecca, Cecelia
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Altiora Press
Published: 2019-10-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

“Do you find it odd the meal is being presided by two strangers to Dromsley?” Roysa asked her sister.

They sat at the head table in the hall, alone, as they had the day before.

Idalia looked down at the empty trestle table closest to them. Normally Dromsley’s marshal, captain, and chamberlain all sat there. But not today.

“A bit. But there are plenty of other odd things about our situation, I suppose.”

Roysa tore off a piece of bread. “Would it not have been safer if you and Lance had gone to Tuleen?”

They’d not spoken of Terric since yesterday, when Roysa told her everything. Idalia had been both surprised and pleased. Or so it had seemed at the time. Since their discussion, her sister had not broached the topic again, and Roysa had followed her lead.

“Dromsley is better fortified than Tuleen, or even Stanton Castle. Lance, the order . . . they will be the first on John’s list of traitors to attack, if he were so inclined.”

“As he seems to be.”

Idalia sighed. “Aye. We had hoped he intended to keep the meeting. But I suppose a meeting is in itself a concession.”

“Which the king does not readily give. Concessions, that is.” Roysa ate the freshly baked bread even though she was no longer hungry.

“Nay.”

Her sister was worried. And though Roysa felt the same way, it was time for her to be the older sister once again. Although Idalia had grown up quite a bit, she was still her younger sister.

“I believe in him. In them.”

Idalia did not appear convinced. “We have no notion of exactly who might be moving against Dromsley. Ulster? Langham? What of the rest of the king’s supporters?”

“John has few friends here in the north.”

“Aye, but enough to take Dromsley Castle.”

“You said it was better fortified than even Stanton, which it appears to be.”

Idalia took a sip of wine. “Aye, but Terric is not preparing for a siege. He and the others are planning a battle.”

“They are preparing for both. No?”

“I suppose so.” But her tone was doubtful.

She could resist no longer. “Did Lance tell you much when he came to bed last eve?”

Roysa had not seen Terric since their discussion. He’d been locked in his solar with the others all day today and yesterday, and had not taken any of his meals in the great hall. She’d thought he might come to her. But she supposed that would go against the vow he’d made. To court rather than seduce her.

“I was sleeping when he came in. And apparently when he left as well. I’ve no memory of him in our bed last eve.”

Roysa could not resist giving her a teasing grin. Idalia lowered her head.

“My sister, blushing? Could it be?”

“I am not.” Idalia turned to her. “You are incorrigible.”

And because it was true—she was feeling rather incorrigible—she said, “Tell me. Tell me what it is like.”

Idalia looked about, as if she feared they’d be overheard by the few retainers who still remained in the hall, and hastened her over to the fireplace in the corner of the hall.

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