Terri Brisbin Read Free

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    “Lord Braden, come and join us in our meal,” a man he assumed was Lord Orrick called out. “Warm yourself here before the fire.”
    Braden nodded and strode to the dais and around the high table to where Lord Orrick stood. He noticed his men being directed by a servant to a table just in front of the steps. They would remain in his sight and close enough to come to his aid if needed. As he stopped before Lord Orrick, his stomach let out a loud growl, probably encouraged by the aromas of a steaming pot of stew and the hot loaves of bread on the table.
    “Share our meal first, my lord, then we can see to your other comforts,” the woman to Lord Orrick’s right said. His wife?
    “I am Orrick of Silloth and this is my ladywife, Margaret.”
    “I am Braden of Wynwydd,” he replied, holding out his hand in greeting. Orrick grasped his forearm and Braden returned the gesture. Both men were unarmed. “My thanks for your offer of hospitality this night.”
    He moved to the chair indicated at Lady Margaret’s side and was impressed by the prompt and thorough attention he received. A servant helped him remove his dripping wet cloak and gloves. In spite of the meal already being in progress, a laver bowl appeared to his right as soon as he was seated and then a towel so that he could wash.
    The fare was hearty, well-cooked and seasoned and Braden listened to the banter between Lord Orrick and his retainers. The ease of exchange and conversation told him much about the way that Orrick managed his manor and his people.
    “So, tell us, Lord Braden, what is the news from court?”Lady Margaret asked him as honey-coated cakes and other treats were served along with cheeses and wafers as the last course.
    “The king held his Easter court at Canterbury and the queen joined him there.” All of England knew about the scandalous marriage of John to Isabella of Angouleme. “Their plans to leave for Normandy were in place even before the holy day was observed.”
    “Is there trouble in Normandy?” the lady asked. “I would have expected them to stay in England through the summer.”
    “None that was the subject of open discussion, but some old wounds have not healed.”
    He probably should have guarded his words. The Lusignans’ claim to prior betrothal was known throughout the continent and England. However, the ties to that family were not so strong here. From the comments overheard at the abbey, Lord Orrick kept to himself and had not ventured to court in over a score of years.
    The lord and lady exchanged knowing glances. So, their lack of attendance on the king did not mean a lack of knowledge of the maneuverings of the Plantagenet kings.
    “What brings you to this part of England, Lord Braden?” Lord Orrick asked in a quiet voice that managed not to draw the attention of anyone except his wife. The lady missed nothing that happened between them.
    “I would speak to you in private, if I may. ’Tis a personal matter,” Braden answered as he fought the urge to grit his teeth again.
    He hated that he would have to reveal, to this stranger, his betrothed’s refusal to marry. He despised showing weakness, but Joanna’s actions necessitated this and many other humiliations to him. Before he could say anything else, Lady Margaret intervened.
    “My lord, our guest has still not shaken off the chill of the road. Can this not wait until morn?”
    “Of course, my lady.” Orrick nodded to his wife first, then to him. “Join me after you break your fast in the morn, Lord Braden.” Orrick stood and held out his hand to his wife. “My steward will see to your comfort and to that of your men.”
    If the haste with which the lord and lady left the hall was unseemly, no one but he took notice of it. Within moments, Orrick and his very fair wife were gone. Orrick’s steward approached him with instructions on the sleeping arrangements and surprised Braden with the offer of a private chamber. Grabbing up a few of the