woman's father. It had been the year after Nerissa's death. Aye, she would have been about ten - only a year or so younger than his own bride had been when he had married her, but Tiernay's daughter had shown none of the curves or beauty of his Nerissa. She had been a scrawny little thing. All teeth and elbows, as he recalled. She had probably not improved with the passage of time, either. Helen of Tiernay probably resembled nothing more than a naggy old buck-toothed horse.
"Child! They are here! I saw them from the window of my bedchamber. They are arrived!"
Dropping her sewing, Helen stood abruptly, her hands suddenly tangling themselves in her skirts and clenching the fine material as her aunt flew down the stairs. For a moment she just stood there, panic blanketing her and stealing her thoughts; then she cast it off and regained her senses enough to shout for her maid.
Ducky must have heard Aunt Nell's anxious cries, because it was a bare heartbeat later that she came flying out of the kitchens. She carried a mug and looked just as panicked as Nell. The two women nearly collided as they rushed across the great hall toward Helen. For some reason, their frenzy had an immediate calming effect on Helen.
All was well. The messenger from Lord Templetun had arrived at mealtime last evening. They had been warned and thereby given time to finish the last of their preparations. She was ready, she reassured herself, but ticked off the checklist in her head anyway.
She was wearing her finest gown. Her hair was clean and lay in soft waves about her face. She looked as good as she possibly could. Helen almost wished she was filthy dirty and dressed in rags, yet, had she done anything of the like, Templetun would have realized right away that something was afoot. After all, his arrival had caught her unaware the first time. He had seen how she normally looked. Blackening her teeth and wearing an overlarge gown stuffed with cushioning did not seem a prudent or particularly intelligent approach to scaring her would-be husband into refusing the wedding decree. Her plan had to be more subtle than that, and it was. There were only two things left to do, but for the sake of potency they had to be left until the men's arrival.
"Do you have the garlic?" Helen asked Ducky as the servant and Aunt Nell came to a halt before her.
"Aye, my lady. I have it here." She handed her mug to Helen's aunt to hold, then dug in her pocket for the small stash she had been carrying since the messenger had informed them of the Lords Templetun and Holden's expected time of arrival. Retrieving a handful of them, she began to peel away the thin, dry, outer layer of one clove, then handed it to her mistress and turned her attention to peeling another.
Expression grim, Helen accepted the offering and promptly popped it into her mouth. She winced as she chewed the pungent herb. It felt as if it were burning her mouth, but she continued to chew and popped each newly peeled clove into her mouth until she had six of them in there and was alternately chewing and pushing them about with her tongue. Ducky and Aunt Nell grimaced sympathetically as they watched her work the garlic around. Once she finished, she swallowed the whole mess, then held out her hand for the mug her maid had given to Nell.
Her aunt lifted the mug first for a sniff, and her expression and the way she jerked her nose away warned Helen of the liquid's potency. Nell handed it over. Helen lifted the mug to her own nose then, only to jerk it away just as quickly. She had rather hoped that the garlic would temporarily kill her ability to smell, and aid in her consumption of the concoction they had brewed to strengthen their plan. Such was not the case. Dear God, I cannot drink this , she thought with horror as her nose was assaulted with the foulest scent it had ever been her displeasure to smell.
"Courage," Aunt Nell murmured almost under her breath, and Helen glanced over at her. The woman forced a bracing smile to her face and nodded. Realizing that there was nothing for it, Helen released a pent-up breath, then plugged her nose and tipped the mug's entire contents into her mouth. Her first instinct was to gag,