sensory pleasure and Cecily savored every moment.
She and Brey, as the only children present, were the center of everything. She was dressed in a silver damask gown with a kirtle of white lace. Brey was dressed to match in a fine silver damask doublet with white hose. Both children’s slippers bore silver buckles encrusted with pearls and they were displayed for the adult guests to pet and admire. Together Brey and Cecily showed the spectators the latest steps they had learned while Lord and Lady Sumerton sat at the high table, their smiles wide with pride.
After a fleet dance that left Cecily and Brey collapsing in each other’s arms breathless and giggling, Lord Hal rose. “What a delight to watch these children at their revels! And what a delight it shall be to watch them grow in the sacred union we have chosen for them.” He paused, casting fond eyes at the children who stood stock still before the assemblage. “Tonight we would like to announce the betrothal of my son, Lord Aubrey Pierce, to Baroness Cecily Burkhart.” He raised his cup. “To the future!”
“The future!” echoed the guests.
None was more surprised than Cecily herself.
She stared at her intended with wide eyes, cocking her head, trying to imagine his features sculpted and angled with five, ten years of age added to his seven years. She could not.
Brey offered a shy smile. “I guess this means we can hunt snakes together for the rest of our lives!” he cried then, as though finding a great deal of refuge in the thought.
Cecily’s shoulders relaxed as she imagined traipsing through the vast forest of Sumerton alongside of cheerful, gentle Brey. “And we can pick berries, too,” she added.
“And go hunting and hawking,” he said. “That will be fun.” He cast a sidelong glance at his parents. Lord Hal was leaning in to offer Grace a peck on the cheek. “What else do you think we have to do?” Brey asked.
Cecily grimaced. “Certainly not that,” she said. “At least not till we’ve grown proper.”
“Yes,” he agreed, sighing in relief. “Meantime, we shall look for snakes.”
“Yes,” said Cecily. “I should like that.”
At once the children were swarmed by well-wishers eager to congratulate them. They were hugged and pinched and kissed. Brey grimaced and wiped the kisses away. Both were soothed from the onslaught by sweetmeats.
“What a commodity!” Cecily overheard one of the lords exclaiming to Lord Hal. “God’s body, man, I expect this child is one of the wealthiest heiresses in the kingdom. A fine suit—I rather wish I had snatched her up for one of my sons!”
“Thank you, Lord Norfolk,” answered Lord Hal. “We are most pleased with the arrangement.”
Cecily’s heart pounded. A commodity. An arrangement. When did a person become a commodity? She had never thought of herself that way. A commodity was a bolt of fabric, a fine jewel perhaps, but her? At once the heat of the room and stench of the different pomanders stifled Cecily. She suppressed the urge to gag as she removed herself from the assemblage. She needed a moment to think about her new estate.
She cooled herself in the hall. She longed to remove her sleeves and run about bare armed but dared not. She did not want to be unladylike. She rolled them up instead. No one was watching, after all. She sank to the floor and leaned against the cool stone wall, closing her eyes, blinking back tears. She could not stave off the dark thoughts.
She was betrothed. She wondered what her parents thought of the match. She supposed it was inevitable that she should, as the Pierces’ ward, marry their heir. It was custom. It was one of the main reasons why people took on wards.
It was good business. She was a good commodity.
“Lady Cecily.”
Cecily started at the husky male voice, looking up to find Father Alec standing before her.
“Are you well, little one?” he asked.
Cecily nodded, brushing the tears aside with the back of her hand. “Do
She and Brey, as the only children present, were the center of everything. She was dressed in a silver damask gown with a kirtle of white lace. Brey was dressed to match in a fine silver damask doublet with white hose. Both children’s slippers bore silver buckles encrusted with pearls and they were displayed for the adult guests to pet and admire. Together Brey and Cecily showed the spectators the latest steps they had learned while Lord and Lady Sumerton sat at the high table, their smiles wide with pride.
After a fleet dance that left Cecily and Brey collapsing in each other’s arms breathless and giggling, Lord Hal rose. “What a delight to watch these children at their revels! And what a delight it shall be to watch them grow in the sacred union we have chosen for them.” He paused, casting fond eyes at the children who stood stock still before the assemblage. “Tonight we would like to announce the betrothal of my son, Lord Aubrey Pierce, to Baroness Cecily Burkhart.” He raised his cup. “To the future!”
“The future!” echoed the guests.
None was more surprised than Cecily herself.
She stared at her intended with wide eyes, cocking her head, trying to imagine his features sculpted and angled with five, ten years of age added to his seven years. She could not.
Brey offered a shy smile. “I guess this means we can hunt snakes together for the rest of our lives!” he cried then, as though finding a great deal of refuge in the thought.
Cecily’s shoulders relaxed as she imagined traipsing through the vast forest of Sumerton alongside of cheerful, gentle Brey. “And we can pick berries, too,” she added.
“And go hunting and hawking,” he said. “That will be fun.” He cast a sidelong glance at his parents. Lord Hal was leaning in to offer Grace a peck on the cheek. “What else do you think we have to do?” Brey asked.
Cecily grimaced. “Certainly not that,” she said. “At least not till we’ve grown proper.”
“Yes,” he agreed, sighing in relief. “Meantime, we shall look for snakes.”
“Yes,” said Cecily. “I should like that.”
At once the children were swarmed by well-wishers eager to congratulate them. They were hugged and pinched and kissed. Brey grimaced and wiped the kisses away. Both were soothed from the onslaught by sweetmeats.
“What a commodity!” Cecily overheard one of the lords exclaiming to Lord Hal. “God’s body, man, I expect this child is one of the wealthiest heiresses in the kingdom. A fine suit—I rather wish I had snatched her up for one of my sons!”
“Thank you, Lord Norfolk,” answered Lord Hal. “We are most pleased with the arrangement.”
Cecily’s heart pounded. A commodity. An arrangement. When did a person become a commodity? She had never thought of herself that way. A commodity was a bolt of fabric, a fine jewel perhaps, but her? At once the heat of the room and stench of the different pomanders stifled Cecily. She suppressed the urge to gag as she removed herself from the assemblage. She needed a moment to think about her new estate.
She cooled herself in the hall. She longed to remove her sleeves and run about bare armed but dared not. She did not want to be unladylike. She rolled them up instead. No one was watching, after all. She sank to the floor and leaned against the cool stone wall, closing her eyes, blinking back tears. She could not stave off the dark thoughts.
She was betrothed. She wondered what her parents thought of the match. She supposed it was inevitable that she should, as the Pierces’ ward, marry their heir. It was custom. It was one of the main reasons why people took on wards.
It was good business. She was a good commodity.
“Lady Cecily.”
Cecily started at the husky male voice, looking up to find Father Alec standing before her.
“Are you well, little one?” he asked.
Cecily nodded, brushing the tears aside with the back of her hand. “Do
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