Royal Feud

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Halting near the southwest corner, where it was relatively quiet, Delvin stood in

front of one of the crenelles. His stance was relaxed with his feet firmly planted wide

apart and his right hand resting flat against the stone surface of the merlon next to him. Hermione stood nearby, in front of another crenelle, and studied his profile as he looked over the river. He was so handsome and virile that sometimes simply gazing at him stole her senses. She turned her head toward the panorama spread before them. The bare branches of the trees-the brown gray oak, the silver gray hawthorn, and smooth gray beech

framed the river on both sides. In the distance, the gray green branches of the fir trees were visible. A few straggly pearl gray clouds drifted lazily overhead, blending into the pale gray sky. Hermione felt at peace for the first time in years. Even though she had only been at

Ishton for a week, Lucy's affection and graciousness had transformed her. The fear that had been her constant companion was mostly absent now, and she was able to let down her guard. "Your mother was right, milord. "Tis a beautiful view. Thank you for bringing me here."

"You are welcome.

The silence between them was comfortable. Delvin did not seem in any hurry to leave, and Hermione was enjoying the brisk air and the view too much to suggest doing so. She soaked in the serenity of their surroundings. After a while, she asked the question that had been foremost on her mind for the last few days.

"Milord, when do you think we can expect a reply from Bamchester?" "It should take the messenger two days to ride to Bamchester. I gave him leave to spend one day there while he awaits the baron's reply. Then two days back. So, if the weather remains clear, he should be back the day after tomorrow. "Thank you, milord."

Delvin shifted his position to rest his shoulder against the merlon. Aware of his gaze, she swiveled toward him. Tendrils of hair had escaped from her braids under her veil and gently whipped around her face as if the wind were caressing her. He smiled at her. Hermione's heart contracted at his smile the first unrestrained smile she had ever seen on his stunningly handsome face. His brilliant blue eyes mesmerized her. The yearning that engulfed her was overwhelming. If only she were unscathed, and he was her husband in truth.

Tearing her eyes from his, she stared out over the river, afraid her desires were plainly visible. She did not want his pity, the only emotion he could possibly feel for her. She would rather be completely alone than be the object of anyone's pity. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she hugged herself. "You must be cold," he said. "We should go in now. I need to join my men in the

lists." A tense silence loomed between them as he led her off the battlements and back to the donjon. He escorted her upstairs and opened her chamber door.

Hermione hovered in the open doorway. "Milord, thank you again for the walk."

"'Twas my pleasure." Delvin inclined his head, then turned and walked away. Closing the door, Hermione sighed. She picked up her lute, sat down, and plucked the strings. As she sang a familiar love song by rote, she chastised herself for overreacting. Delvin was only trying to be friendly. He meant nothing by his smile. He must be

disgusted with her standoffishness. She would leave here soon, but in the meantime she owed Lucy and Delvin for their consideration and kindness. She no longer feared they would send her back to Morety or that they would cause her any harm. They had proven themselves to be

caring, honest, and honorable. In the time that she had left at Ishton, she would do all that she could to reciprocate their friendship. A while later a knock sounded on her door. Hermione put a shaking hand over her

racing heart, drawing deep breaths to still her thudding heart. She was no longer at Morety. She did not have to fear punishment for playing her lute.

"Hermione, 'tis Lucy. May I come in?" “Aye, of course, Lucy." Hermione stood and placed her lute on the bed.

Lucy entered and shut the door behind her, then held up for Hermione's

inspection the green gown she had draped over her arm. "I brought your new kirtle. Perhaps you could wear it for supper tonight." "Oh, 'tis beautiful." Hermione touched the soft brown fur at the neck of the gown. "I

do not know how to thank you and Elizabeth and Clare." "You are quite welcome," Lucy said as she laid the gown on Hermione's bed next to the lute. "I heard you playing. You are very talented, my dear."

"Thank you. "Would you be willing to play your lute and sing for us tonight?" Lucy suggested. "You play and sing so beautifully. We would very much appreciate you sharing your music with us."

Hermione looked into Lucy's kind eyes. Although she shrank from the idea of performing in public and being the center of all eyes, she gathered her courage, determined to repay Lucy for her generosity. "Aye, I will play for you." "That is wonderful. I am so glad, Hermione."

An hour later, when she heard the knock on the door, Hermione put her hands over her waist to still the spinning in her stomach. She rubbed her hands down the front of her gown and gave the fabric one last shake. Opening the door to Delvin, she raised her eyes to his face. "Good evening, milord."

"Good evening, Hermione."

She was very conscious of his gaze as he surveyed her new attire. A simple ivory linen veil covered her head. The new moss green gown hugged her upper body before dropping into graceful folds at her feet. She had not felt this good about her appearance since she had left Bamchester.

"You look lovely this evening." He offered her his hand.

"Thank you, milord."

Placing her hand in his, she counseled herself not to put too much stock in his free hand as she walked beside him down the gallery.

words. He was merely being courteous. She plucked at the fabric of the gown with her

"The kirtle your mother and the other ladies made for me is very pretty, is it not?" "Aye, 'tis most attractive. Mother tells me you are going to play your lute for us tonight."

"Aye, milord."

"I am looking forward to it. " When they reached the great hall, Clare and Elizabeth came to greet her. She

followed Delvin with her eyes as he left her side to join the men, before she brought her

attention back to the women.

"Hermione, you look wonderful," Elizabeth said. "I knew that color would look most striking on you," Claire added.

"Thank you so much for this kirtle," Hermione replied. "Tis beautiful." ""Tis only beautiful because you are wearing it, Hermione." Clare's dark, warm eyes

were direct and sincere.

Over supper, Hermione tried to respond to Lucy and Delvin's conversation but found the prospect of her upcoming performance weighing heavily. She became more silent and withdrawn as the meal came to a close. As the last course was removed, Delvin leaned over to her. "Hermione," he murmured,

"you do not have to play for us tonight if you would rather not. I am sure Mother will understand. "Tis all right," she said, twisting her fingers in her lap. "I need to get over my fear

sometime. It might as well be now."

"Aye." He sat back in his chair. "Would you like me to fetch your lute from your chamber?" "Nay, thank you. I would rather do it myself."

I can do this. I can do this. Hermione kept up the litany in her mind as she went upstairs. When she picked up her lute, she felt the old familiar fear swamp her. She hugged the instrument close to her chest. I can do this. I can do this. She left her chamber and hurried downstairs to find Delvin, Lucy, Elizabeth,

Clare, and their husbands waiting in front of the fireplace. The servants had removed the supper dishes and stacked the trestle tables. People sat on the benches arranged along the perimeter of the hall, their chatter saturating the room. "I am ready, milady," Hermione stated as she stopped in front of Lucy.

"I am sure you will play brilliantly, my dear." Lucy drew Hermione toward the chair that had been placed in the center of the hall. When the crowd quieted, she made an announcement. "Lady Hermione has graciously agreed to honor us with a song, Please join me in thanking her."

There was a polite round of applause as Hermione sat down and arranged her instrument on her lap. Then silence descended. She raised her eyes from the lute strings and looked directly at Delvin, unconsciously seeking him in the crowd. Her eyes locked with his. She calmed, absorbing courage from the steady look he gave her. At his nod. she began to play. Her voice rose over the elaborate tune she plucked out on the strings as she sang one of her favorite love songs, "Scarborough Fair." Her consciousness narrowed and focused on Delvin as she played only for him.

When she finished, there was absolute stillness in the hall. She swallowed against the dross coating her throat. Delvin gave her a broad smile and started to clap loudly and deliberately. As if freed from a trance, the rest of the audience applauded her as well. The thunderous ovation rolled over her. Hermione looked around in astonishment before returning her gaze to Delvin, Joy filled her heart and she smiled at him. "Lady Hermione," Lucy said when the applause had died down, "that was simply

wonderful. Thank you so much for sharing your extraordinary talent with us. May I entreat you for another song?" Hermione nodded and plucked out another tune on the lure. She played like she had

never played before and realized that sharing her music was not only a gift she offered to others, but that the pleasure of giving enriched her own enjoyment. It seemed like