Almost Innocent Read Free Page B

stretching his hands to the blaze. “I could wish you would have Magdalen in better care, Elinor. She has been yet again with mad Jennet.”
    Lady Elinor touched a hand to the crisp folds of her wimple. “She is like quicksilver, Robert. It is beyond human ability to keep up with her at all times. Did you punish her?”
    “Of course.” He sighed heavily. “But how long do you think the lesson will last?”
    “Until the smart dies,” Elinor said, laying down her silks and needle. “But your wardship will soon be over.” She looked shrewdly at him in the candlelight.
    “I would not be found wanting in my conduct of that charge,” he said. “It is a responsibility we have borne for eleven years, yet I misdoubt our success. She is such a strange child—”
    “Your charge was simply to keep her safe and wellthrough her growing, beyond the attention of those whose interest might be malign,” his sister interrupted. “You have carried out that duty with care beyond criticism. She is strong and healthy and has no knowledge of who and what she is, as you were instructed.”
    Bellair nodded, stroking his graying beard. His sister spoke the truth, but he could not help feeling that he had been somehow remiss. With no experience of children, he had tried to do his duty by the little girl, neglecting neither kindness nor just correction, but the expected results of such careful and impartial rearing had escaped him. Magdalen was no ordinary child. He could only believe that her upbringing had failed to have an enduring effect upon the inherent characteristics imparted to her in the womb. What would those to whom she was going find in her?
    A trumpet sounded shrill and demanding from beyond the great gates of the castle. Lord Bellair hastened to the window as the call was answered by the herald within. The drawbridge was lowered over the moat, the great gates swung open, and a troop of archers and crossbowmen trotted into the
place d’armes.
Behind them rode six knights banneret on plumed and braided palfreys, gold-embossed surcotes over their armor. At their head rode a knight in a blue and silver jupon, a squire at his side bearing a standard on which a dragon device was displayed against a field of azure and argent. Squires and pages and a troop of swordsmen brought up the rear. Such an army to collect one small girl from a border fortress. But, then, the roads were besieged with brigands, and the girl had a destiny to fulfill.
    “They are come,” he said, striding to the door. “I must meet them in the inner court. Do you prepare Magdalen for presentation within the hour.”
    Lady Elinor hastened to her bedchamber, instructing a serving maid to bring hot water immediately. She unlocked the door and went in. Magdalen, her ills forgotten, was kneeling on the windowsill, gazing down at thebusyness in the courtyard below. Pages and grooms ran to take bridles and place mounting blocks. The arriving master herald still sat his horse, his trumpet with its pennant of azure and argent dipped in recognition of their hosts. Her father was greeting his knightly visitors, who dismounted and stood exchanging courtesies under the gray sky while Lord Bellair’s pages proffered stirrup cups of wine. They disappeared through the door to the great hall below Magdalen’s window, their own squires and pages in attendance. The armed troop were dispersed to the barracks in the garrison court, horses led off to the stables and the pasture beyond the postern gate.
    “Who are they, my lady aunt?” Magdalen scrambled from the sill as the woman entered with a restrained rustle of her billowing velvet skirts.
    “Visitors from London,” Elinor replied. “Show me your hands.” She shook her head over their grimy, broken-nailed condition. “You must wash your face and hands well and replait your hair. Let us see what gown will be most suitable.” She opened the clothes press.
    “From the king?” Magdalen asked, gingerly dipping a cloth