Prologue~Ch. 1~Ch. 2~Ch. 3~Ch. 4~Ch. 5~Ch. 6~Ch. 7~Ch. 8~Ch. 9~Ch. 10~
Ch. 11~Ch. 12~Ch. 13~Ch. 14~Ch. 15~Ch. 16~Ch. 17~Ch. 18~
“You have got to be kidding!” Jessica looked at the clothing laid out on the bed.
After her pre-dawn chat, Jessica decided maybe Howard was right. Maybe she was enjoying the attention of her invalid status a little too much. So this morning, after having breakfast with Ewan, she requested her clothing so she could get up and maybe even have a look outside her tent.
“Is something wrong, my lady?” Some how the voice of the lady’s maid lacked the sincerity of Ewan’s on the word lady.
The dress laid out on the bed was lovely, as were the silk undergarments, but Jessica was not in the mood to play dress up.
“When I asked for clothing I meant my own.”
“I am sorry, my lady,” the maid said. “But these were the clothes I was told to bring you. I am sorry if they are not up to your standards, but they are the best I could do in such trying times.”
Jessica sighed heavily. Time to soothe some ruffled feathers. “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful,” she said. “I just—what is your name?”
“Eleanor, my lady.”
“I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful, Eleanor, it’s just that I’d be more comfortable in my own clothes.”
“I do not know what was done with them. Shall I help you dress now?”
“Help me dress?” Jessica ehcoed. What was she, five years old? She took a closer look at the dress lying on the bed, noting the elaborate lacing, the yards of material, and the complicated layers. Maybe she was going to need to suck it up, just this once. It’s not as though she could go searching for her own clothes in the voluminous nightgown she was currently wearing.
“Thank you,” she said. “I believe I will take that help.”
Although the dress wasn’t as uncomfortable as it looked, Jessica was mortified at having to have help getting into it and she just couldn’t muster up the appreciation for it that Eleanor thought it deserved. It was a deep green colour, made out of some heavy material that probably cost a small fortune, with an under dress of silver. It had long, pointed sleeves and laced up both the front and back. It was much heavier than it looked and she felt stifled in it.
“Is it supposed to drag on the ground like this?” she asked, twisting to look at the train flowing behind her.
“ ‘Tis the fashion, my lady,” Eleanor told her.
Jessica eyed the bundle of material the maid was bringing closer. “Is that what I think it is?”
Eleanor stopped in her tracks. “My lady?”
“I am so not wearing that thing on my head!”
“But . . . my lady!”
“No! I draw the line at that ridiculous headgear.” The flowing veil was bad enough, but it looked like it was supposed to be held in place by a weirdly shaped, padded device.
She was saved from a heated argument with the maid by the gentle chime of the bell affixed just outside the tent.
“Come in,” Jessica called, still eyeing the headdress with distaste.
Gareth entered, followed closely by Alexander. Jessica couldn’t help preening a bit as their eyes lit with admiration. Eleanor sniffed in annoyance.
“If there’s nothing else, my lady?”
Jessica fought the urge to roll her eyes. “You may go, Eleanor.”
“His Highness sends his regrets but he will be unable to join you until this evening,” Gareth told her. “Might I add, my lady, you look most beautiful.” He blushed as he said this and dropped his gaze.
“Indeed, you look quite fetching,” Alexander agreed. “It’s too bad it’s wasted on just the two of us.” At her enquiring look he added, “His highness has requested that you allow him the pleasure of escorting you on a tour of the camp this evening.”
Jessica frowned. “In other words, he wants me to stay in my tent.”
“I fear so,” Alexander admitted.
“And what if I don’t want to stay in my tent?”
There was a slight hesitation as the two men shared a look. “It would not be . . . wise to go against the prince’s wishes.”
“I see,” she said thoughtfully. “Am I a prisoner?”
“Nay, my lady!” Gareth was quick to protest. “Ye be an honoured guest! ‘Tis only for thine own safety the prince wishes thee to remain.”
Jessica sighed. She’d been looking forward to finally getting some fresh, but on the other hand she was dependent on the prince’s good will and didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize it.
“I guess we might as well sit down then,” she said, a little ungraciously. “Gareth,” she said, suddenly. “Do you know what happened to the clothes I was wearing when that bird attacked me?”
“Yes, my lady,” he said nervously.
“Well?”
“I—I believe there was no saving them, my lady.”
Jessica felt the blood drain from her face. “They’re gone?” she whispered. Jennifer was going to kill her. “Even the boots?” She’d really loved those boots.
“Nay, I believe the boots still remain, as does your sword. Wouldst thee like me to fetch them for thee?”
“I would be very grateful if you could,” Jessica said sincerely.
Gareth leaped to his feet, glad to be of use. “I shall return in a nonce.”
Jessica watched him leave with something akin to relief. At least the museum’s sword was safe. Thank God for small favours.
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