Page 55 of Ella’s Desire

“You wouldn’t go.” Brigid rested a hand on Ella’s forearm with tender reassurance. “Servants attend market for you in a place such as London. You would need only to remain at court.”

Ella’s shoulders relaxed with gratitude. She was fortunate to have Brigid’s counsel in matters such as court life. Mayhap knowing more would help her not dread it so much.

They moved on to a small booth with various colors of thread. When the ladies approached, the shopkeeper drew out a small box of fine silk that gleamed in the sunlight.

“Is there much work to organizing household affairs when one is at court?” Ella asked, hopeful for the response. She had never been one to enjoy running a castle as Marin and Anice had. Not having to manage a household would be a grand benefit.

Brigid flushed. “I’m afraid I did not attend court as a wife.”

Ella blinked in surprise. “Forgive me, I thought you had been at court with the late earl.”

“Nay.” Brigid flashed a smile at her, one that was too quick and too bright.

Ella had evidently made her uncomfortable with such questioning. The idea of putting such a kind and gentle woman in a state of unease left Ella’s own cheeks growing warm.

“I should like to see Berkley Manor,” Ella said to change the topic. “I imagine it is quite lovely.”

Brigid bit her lip. “Aye.” Her reply was slow and filled with obvious hesitation.

The conversation was not going well. Was there something amiss at Berkley Manor? Did Brigid think she would be losing her home?

If Brigid did not wish her at Berkley Manor, then surely there was no place for Ella but at court.

“You are always welcome, of course.” Brigid gave another unconvincing smile and selected a bit of blue thread. Before she could draw out her coin purse to pay, William placed a coin in the man’s hand.

Brigid looked up, startled. “Thank you.”

“‘Tis my job as steward t…to see you ladies well cared for.” He winked at her then. Winked!

Ella had always known William to be a happy man despite the sorrow he had suffered. But never had she seen this flirtatious side of him. There was something endearing about it, especially when Brigid lowered her eyes with the demure shyness of a maiden.

A little boy with dark hair stopped in front of them and gazed up at William. “Are ye Lord Werrick’s steward?”

“Aye, lad. I am he.” William crouched down to the boy’s level and smiled.

The boy shook the hair from his eyes. “My da is Edmund. If ye have the time, might ye come to his shop?”

“Aye, I’ll be by in a moment.” William fished out a small coin and set it in the boy’s hand to pay him for the message. The boy scampered off and William straightened. “You ladies enjoy the rest of the market while I see to the butcher.”

“Nay, we can join you,” Ella said. Her blunders at conversation with Brigid left her uncertain what to say. The distraction would be welcome. She turned left and began to walk. “After all, I have yet to meet him.” Marin had always said it was important to know every supplier to Werrick Castle personally. Yet another thing Ella hadn’t done.

William strode quickly to Ella’s side. “Forgive me, my lady, b…but you must be thinking of the prior butcher.” He turned and indicated a shop several doors down in the opposite direction. A wooden sign hung down from iron scrollwork with what appeared to be a pig etched on it.

Ella cringed at her own oversight. William was being polite as the shop was in the same place.

The former butcher, Old Betsy, had put up all her wares for sale to move to southern England to be near her daughter. Edmund the Strong had come from a village on the Scotland border when his house was burned down in a raid. He’d offered Old Betsy a good sum and there he’d been for the last several months.

William led the way, holding the door open as they entered the shop to find a large man in a leather apron. His long, dark hair was thick and lined through with strands of silver. The breadth of his shoulders and the gray blue of his eyes gave him the appearance of a smith rather than a butcher.

“Good morrow, sir.” The butcher lowered his head respectfully to each of them in turn. “My lady. My lady.”

“Good morrow, Edmund.” William grinned at the man in the congenial manner he always bore. “This is Lady Ella. She wished to meet you.”

Edmund bowed. “Thank ye, my lady. Ye give me great honor with yer presence.”

Ella nodded, unsure of what to say. Nan had groused about the man ever since Old Betsy left. But then, Nan wasn’t one for change and Ella suspected her dislike of the man had more to do with that than his meat. “Well met, Edmund.”

“Your lad said you wished to see me,” William said.