On the other hand, Matt had some influence over them himself—and he needed to speak quickly before his companions were welted.
The bedbugs all froze in position, and Matt could imagine their diminutive antennae sticking up straight in surprise. Then, suddenly, they were gone.
Matt nodded with satisfaction, then cocked his head, listening. After all, there had been more to the spell than banishment…
Outside, he heard a howl of shock and anger which broadened into a squalling that rose, then fell and diminished, fading away into the night. Matt grinned and settled himself cross-legged on his nice, fresh, clean pallet again. The bauchan wouldn’t try its pranks on him again in a hurry.
Or would it? Uneasily, Matt wondered if, once having said it adopted him, the bauchan was bound to him whether it wanted to be or not. He resolved to be very vigilant for a while.
Mama woke at the knock on her door and clucked her tongue in annoyance with herself for sleeping so late. “Come in!” she called, pushing herself up in bed.
The door opened and a serving maid came in, caroling, “Good morning, milady!” with just the right degree of optimism.
“Good morning to you, Meg,” Mama said, smiling.
Meg balanced the bed-tray dexterously while she closed the door with one foot, then came over to set the tray over Mama’s lap and plump up the pillows for her to sit up. Mama leaned back with a happy sigh. Before coming to Merovence, she had only had breakfast in bed on Mother’s Day and her birthday. It was a very pleasant way to start each morning.
In this case, it was also useful. As Meg bustled over to open the curtains, Mama asked, “Has the week been as difficult for you belowstairs as it has been for us?”
“Oh, a proper fright, milady!” Meg turned back to her, eyes wide. “No lass dared turn her back on those princes, not that it—” She blushed and clamped her mouth shut.
“Come, come, I too know the ways of men, both good and bad,” Mama cajoled. “So even facing them did not protect you from their gropings? Well, there have always been noblemen who thought all women of the common folk were theirs to do with as they would. Was it only the princes, or their father, too?”
CHAPTER 7
“My lady!” Meg gasped, blanching.
“There are only the two of us here, and I will never say where I learned this news,” Mama assured her. “Do I shock you by the mere thought, or only by the fact that I dare speak of it?”
“Well…” Meg turned away. “How did you know?”
“The tone of his voice, and the look in his wife’s eyes when he spoke to a younger woman.” Mama didn’t mention that the younger woman had been Gaheris’ fiancee. “So he did treat all the serving women as though they were there for his pleasure?”
“Yes, milady, though I will say he did not press us to come to his bed, as his sons did.”
“No doubt because his wife was here,” Mama said. “How did you deal with the princes?”
“We spoke to Sir Martin the seneschal, milady, and he spoke to the king. None knows what passed, but the servants in the hall spoke of hearing the king’s shouting through a three-inch-thick door of oak, and of Sir Martin coming out looking more stern than usual, and the king being in a right royal rage when he sent for his sons. They ceased to press us to their beds after that, though they stole as many kisses and caresses as they could, and poured lascivious remarks into our ears.”
Mama made a mental note to get to know Sir Martin better; apparently, his devotion to chivalry gave him such standing as a knight that even a king dared not seek to punish him. “Even Prince Brion?”
“Oh, he never troubled us, Majesty, though he did cast admiring glances our way.” She blushed. “Perhaps more than admiring, but less than lustful. Then, too, we saw him often in conversation with Sir Martin and Sir Orizhan, quite earnest conversation, about chivalry and the meaning of a knight’s vows.”
“But not a knight’s love for his lady?”
“Not his lady, no,” Meg said slowly. “The talk was of loving from afar, of how a knight must acquit himself when he loves a lady he may not court—even, I think, of when that knight may wear her favor, and when he may not.”
In tournaments, a knight could tie a lady’s scarf about his arm to show she was hoping for him to win, even if they were not in love—but Mama strongly suspected that Brion was in love with his brother’s fiancee, and this overheard remark confirmed that he would not have committed murder to gain her—it would have been unchivalrous.
Mama sighed, looking up at the ceiling with its pattern of stars, suns, and moons. “I cannot understand how a family could stay together when there is so much sniping and snapping at one another.”
“They are royal,” Meg said simply. “They need not stay together.”
“True,” Mama said thoughtfully. “They can live in separate castles.” She smiled at Meg. “And who could blame them?”
“They were quite—” Meg bit her tongue again, reddening.
“Quite unpleasant? Say it, my dear—I have told you I shall not repeat it. Whether it is spoken or not, most of the people in this castle will think it, from the queen to the scullery maid.”
“The scullery maid! She is not even pretty, but still the princes—” Meg cut herself off again.
“If you do not stop biting your tongue,” Mama said, “you will wear a hole in it. So they pursued every woman, whether she had beauty or not?”
“Prince John did,” Meg explained.
“Well, like will to like. No doubt the king blames us all for guarding our virtue, for if Prince Gaheris had found his sport within the castle, he might have felt no need to go out of it.”
“He may feel that,” Meg said grimly, “but it will not be true. Gaheris was the sort to think that every woman is a conquest waiting. He could never be satisfied.”
“Not as long as there was a virtuous woman undespoiled,” Mama agreed.
“I do not think he insisted on virtue,” Meg said, “though virginity might have added spice to his conquests.” She shuddered. “Vile or not, though, his death has made a horrible, ending to this week.”
“Yes, but he and his family saw to it that it would be a horrible week. I will except Prince Brion from that, though, and Lady Rosamund.” She shook her head in pity. “Poor child! I wonder where she was while her fiance was out wenching.”
“Oh, I can tell you that!” Meg said.
That was exactly what Mama had intended. “Really? Where?”
“When the princes went out to roister, she went to her room, pleading a headache.”
“I can understand that.” Mama shuddered at the memory of the dinner. “I hope it passed.”
“She went right to sleep, it seems, for she locked her door, and when her chambermaid came with a draft of wine to help her slumber, Princess Rosamund told her through the door, voice thick with sleep, to go away, she needed no wine.”
“Then she slept, which was well, for she had a very rude awakening.” Mama shook her head. “And we thought it was a blessing when those three princes left the castle in peace for a few hours!”