Page 48 of Ella’s Desire

The mere mention of the wedding preparations rankled Ella. It was supposed to be a wonderfully romantic event to plan, but in reality, it was tedious and full of far too many things she was not certain of, like, everything Bronson preferred.

She set Moppet’s bag on the dressing table and Moppet peered out from beneath the flap.

“Nay, I just thought I would like to ready for supper in our room, like I did before.” Ella indicated the letter. “And you could read me Geordie’s letter.”

Cat’s eyes sparkled. “I would like that very much.”

“Where is Leila?” Ella glanced about the room.

“With Lark.” Cat rose from the chair and settled her letter from Geordie on the bed, then went to the clothes trunk. “The two of them were immediate friends. I think it’s wonderful for Leila to have someone her own age, and I am glad that we will be getting a new sister.”

Moppet hopped down from the table and raced over to the parchment. Ella lifted it before he could touch it. “Then this is the perfect time for me to hear about Geordie’s letter.”

Cat happily obliged and read on and on, with giggles and a wide smile, about Geordie’s adventures on campaign with the king. Cat and Geordie had been inseparable since they were children and although Cat was truly happy for him, his absence had struck her hard.

The door to their room opened and Leila entered with Lark, Hardy trotting at their heels. Moppet raced back into the bag with an irate chattering that caused them all to break out in a fit of giggles. Together, they all readied for supper, helping each other while chatting. Lark, though somewhat timid, appeared to fit right in with the Werrick sisters, and Ella was only too happy to welcome her into the family. As they were making their way to the great hall later, Lark strode along beside Ella.

“I’m so pleased you will be marrying Bronson.” Lark’s cheeks went pink. “I can’t imagine a family more wonderful than yours to belong to.”

There was something about the young girl that made Ella want to curl her arms around Lark protectively. Mayhap it was how painfully thin the child was, or mayhap it was her wondrous expression as she gazed around Werrick Castle, as if she had never seen such finery.

“We are happy to have you join us,” she replied earnestly. “And I know Leila is pleased to have someone her own age to talk to.”

They walked into the great hall and Lark stopped abruptly, her mouth falling open in awe.

“Have you not been inside the great hall of a castle before?” Ella asked.

Lark shook her head.

Ella regarded the girl curiously. “Have you never gone to court then?”

Lark shook her head again. “Does it look like this?”

“Far grander, with many meals served and stiff kirtles laced far too tight so you can scarcely move.” Ella walked rigidly for two steps, her arms locked out at her sides.

Lark laughed.

“But there are troubadours who tell the most wonderful tales.” Ella led Lark down the side of the great hall, past the many rows of trestles.

Lark’s attention fixed on a mountain of rolls in the center of one table. “What is a troubadour?” she asked distractedly.

Ella blinked in surprise. It was a strange thing for the girl to have not gone to court by the age of fourteen, but entirely another for her to have never been exposed to a troubadour. Even in the country, the traveling story tellers often made appearances in villages between visits to wealthier homes.

“They tell the most wonderful tales of love.” Ella put her hand over her chest and sighed with happiness. “We have written several of their stories down if you would like to read them.”

“Oh, I cannot read.” Lark made the admission as if it were nothing, as if it were simply a declaration to have a second helping of food or a bland comment upon the weather.

Ella frowned at such a horrible fate as not being able to read. They arrived at their table and there was no more time for her to discuss the matter.

Bronson rose as Ella approached. She smiled at him, but the action felt forced. Was he aware his sister was unable to read? And what of all the books he’d said his stepmother and Lark most likely possessed?

Not only was he not aware of his sister’s affinities, he had actively hindered her life. First by not taking her to court while he had spent years living there, and then by not teaching the girl to read. It was appalling.

His stepmother, Lady Calville, was at Ella’s right. A woman who was nearly as thin as her daughter. Threads of silver gleamed in brown hair the same color as Lark’s. The woman glanced affectionately at Ella with the kind of smile one gives someone they have known all of their life, unguarded and warm.

It made Ella immediately like the woman, and twinged Ella’s guilt at her selfish reaction earlier that day after Bronson had left to see to his stepmother and Lark.

Ella took her seat and tried as best she could to return the warmth of the sentiment. “I trust you had as comfortable a journey as is possible for such a long distance,” she said.