A Lady's Charade (Medieval Romance Novel) Read Online Free

family.

Chapter Three
     
    South Hearth Castle, English and Scottish Border
    November, 1415
    A full night’s sleep and a cup of her mother’s specially made herbal tea did nothing to heal Chloe’s aching head and heart.
    She’d refused to break her fast with her father. Still overwhelmed and even angry that he’d decided her fate without so much as asking her how she felt.
    “ Mademoiselle. ” Nicola entered the room and crossed quickly to where Chloe sat in a window seat, gazing out at the horizon, an untouched embroidery hoop in her lap. “Would you care to take a walk in the gardens? Your maman , is requesting your presence.”
    “There are no flowers in bloom, Nicola.”
    “This is true, but your mother has a pretty pond with fish swimming in it. And a lovely maze made of shrubs.”
    “Hmm…” Perhaps the exercise and fresh air would do her some good. She couldn’t sit inside and mourn the passing of her youth and freedom forever. Might as well enjoy what little time she had left before she was shackled to Angus. A date had still not been set, and she sincerely hoped it was because her parents were looking for another match.
    “Let us put on your mantel, so you don’t catch a chill, d’accord ?”
    Chloe nodded, and stood, her embroidery slipping from her lap, forgotten.
    When she reached the gardens her mother was standing by the pond, which housed a marble statue of a stag in its center. Chloe felt a little like the stag. Hunted.
    “Chloe. Come look.”
    She did her mother’s bidding and stared into the pond. The fish looked rather ugly, browns, blues, greens. Nothing too exotic or exciting. She looked away, wishing she were back in France.
    “Mother, must I marry?”
    Her mother didn’t ask what she was referring, her mind probably consumed with the idea as well. “ Oui .”
    “I am fearful of it.”
    The baroness nodded. “Marriage is a weighty duty.”
    Had he mother no other words of comfort? She tore some bread from a chunk in her hands and tossed small pieces into the water.
    “If your brother was here, you would not have to do this.” Her mother’s voice held no emotion. No blame, no cynicism, or sadness. Nothing.
    Chloe couldn’t take it anymore. “Am I always to be blamed for his death?”
    “No one blames you, my child, ‘tis simply a fact.”
    Tears burned her eyes, but she gritted her teeth against letting her emotions take away her control. “If father wasn’t always so bent on conquering clans and the English, Jon would still be alive. It’s his fault, not mine! The men never would have attacked if father hadn’t provoked them! Jon was trying to save me, he was a hero! That man—” Chloe pointed toward the keep. “He is the only one to blame for my brother’s death!”
    The baroness gasped, and struck Chloe on the cheek. Chloe hadn’t seen the blow coming, felt the sting of it all the way to her toes.
    “Do not ever speak of your father and your brother in the same breath again.”
    Her mother pivoted on her heel and headed inside the keep. Chloe stayed put, unable to move. When had her mother turned against her?
    ****
    Alexander sat atop his horse, Hero, just beyond the village walls of South Hearth. Concealed by the dense forest for the moment, a field separated him from the gates and entry to the holding. Surprise filled him—the place was not as heavily armed as he would have suspected. The walls that surrounded the village had a few archers walking their paths on top, but that appeared to be it. Either Fergusson was a bloody fool or a damn site too cocky.
    In any case, Alexander’s mission just became a whole lot easier.
    Alexander surveyed his surroundings. The chilly evening air blew around him. The smell of peat fires burning reached inside of his chilled nostrils. The archers would see them coming once they marched onto the field. It would be best for him to take only a few men, and demand they open the gates.
    Another gust of wind blew. Armor definitely