Read Online Three French Hens by Lynsay Sands - Free Book Online Page B

unfinished sentence was interrupted by a gasp. Spotting the alarm on Sabrina’s face and the way she had blanched, Brinna frowned and touched her hand gently. “What is it? Are you not feeling well again?”
    Sabrina turned to her, mouth working but nothing coming out.
    “Joan? My lady?”
    Brinna glanced distractedly at Royce when he touched her arm. “Aye?”
    “Is that not your father?”
    “My father?” she asked blankly, but followed his gesture to the head table. Her gaze slid over the people seated there, and she suddenly understood why the table was full even without them. William of Menton and an older man now helped fill it. Her gaze fixed on the older man. He was handsome with blond hair graying at the temples, strong features, and a nice smile. Brinna would have recognized him anywhere. He was Lord Edmund Laythem, a good friend of Lord Menton’s and a frequent visitor at Menton. He was also Joan’s father.
    Brinna’s gaze was drawn to Lady Menton as the woman leaned toward her husband to murmur something. Whatever it was made the two men glance across the roomtoward Brinna. For a moment she felt frozen, pinned to her seat like a bug stuck in sticky syrup as her heart began to hammer in panic and her breathing became fast and shallow. What if he stood and came to greet her? He would know. They would all know. But he didn’t rise. Edmund Laythem merely smiled slightly and nodded a greeting.
    It took an elbow in her side from Sabrina to make Brinna nod back and force what she hoped was a smile to her own lips.
    “Mayhap we should go greet him,” Royce murmured beside her and started to rise, but Brinna clawed at his arm at once.
    “Oh, nay! Nay. I—there is no sense disrupting Lady Menton’s feast. Time enough to greet him afterward.”
    Royce hesitated, then settled in his seat reluctantly. “As you say, my lady,” he murmured, then smiled wryly. “Well, now we know the reason behind the feast. Lady Menton must have put it on to welcome your father and her son.”
    “Aye,” Brinna murmured faintly, then tore her eyes away from the high table and swiveled abruptly toward Sabrina.
    “What are we going to do?” Sabrina asked in a panic before she could say a word, and Brinna’s heart sank as she realized the brunette would be of little help.
    “Are you not going to eat?”
    Forcing a smile, Brinna turned to face forward at Royce’s question. “Of course. Aye. We shall eat,” she murmured, casting Sabrina a meaningful sideways glance.
    Nodding, Sabrina set to her meal, but there was a frown between her eyes as she did, and she was still as tense as the strings on a harp as she cast nervous glances toward the head table. Brinna was aware of of her actions, but avoided looking at the head table at all costs herself. Shekept her head bowed, eyes fastened on her meal as she ate, and slowly began to shrink in her seat.
    It was the most excruciating meal Brinna had ever sat through. Worse even than her first night as Joan’s fill-in. She wasn’t even sure what she ate. It all tasted like dust in her mouth as her mind raced about in circles like a dog chasing its tail, desperately searching for a way out of this mess. An excuse to hurry up stairs right after the meal and avoid Lord Laythem was needed, but her mind seemed consumed with the fact that this was the end of the road for her. She had thought she had a couple more days at least to bask in the warmth of Lord Thurleah’s attention, but this was it. The end. These were her last moments with him. If only—
    She cut the wish off abruptly. It was no good. She could not have Royce. He was a lord and she just a scullery maid. He needed a large dower such as Joan could provide. She had nothing but the ragged clothes presently on Lady Joan’s back. Still, he had come to her on Christmas Day like a gift from God that had brightened her life and made her experience things she had never thought to feel. It broke her heart that he was a gift meant