Page 54 of The Favourite

“And this is Ayleth, Lady Bardulf’s maid,” Alisander continued calmly, turning to where Ayleth stood scowling. She looked the old man up and down, her eyes dwelling on the spot where his toes poked through his stockings. “Humph!” she pronounced. Bertrand chose that moment to open his mouth and let out a loud wail. Ayleth, who was holding him, jumped as though scalded.

“Oh, Bertrand!” Anne tutted, turning to Jane and passing Celestia into her lap before hurrying to comfort her son.

“Oh, er—” Given little choice in the matter, Jane passed her arms about the baby, an almost fearful look on her face. Celestia squinted up at her a moment, before closing her eyes and dozing off again.

“Well,” said Alisander as Anne bounced Bertrand on her hip, “is this not merry?”

“I’ll—er—pour the wine, my lord,” Robert quavered. “If you will permit me to fetch more goblets.”

Goblets were fetched, wine was poured, and by the time Wat reappeared bearing trays full of cold fowl, bread, and cheeses, everyone was seated and had removed their cloaks and hoods. It was true, the reception room was looking decidedly cluttered, and Ayleth still looked sour as vinegar, but Anne and Davis seemed to be on the best of good terms, and Jane looked vastly relieved as Celestia continued to sleep on her lap.

It was not until the conversation turned to sleeping arrangements that a discordant note was once again struck. “My lord,” Robert whispered, leaning forward. “Where are you going to put ‘em?”

“Put what?” Alisander asked, lowering his chicken leg.

“All these people,” Robert hissed. “Only, we ain’t got the room, milord!”

A quiet fell across the table. “Nonsense! We can put the baby in the guest bedchamber. Anne and Bertrand will also have to sleep in there,” he added. “My apologies, Anne.”

“It would be for the best, my lord,” Anne hastened to assure him. “That way, I can tend to her in the night, and Bertrand too.”

Robert cleared his throat. “But what about her ladyship?” he persisted with an agonized expression on his face.

“Hmmm?” Alisander frowned, for he was fully occupied in peeling a quail’s egg.

“Your good lady wife?”

“Oh.” Alisander turned to Jane, who was still sat stiffly upright in her seat so as not to disturb the sleeping child. He shrugged. “My wife will just have to sleep in with me until I can arrange for larger quarters. It is a barbarous practice but will have to suffice for the short term.”

“And what about me?” piped up Ayleth grimly. “I trust I am not expected to share with babes or these three rogues,” she said turning to look disapprovingly at Wat, Davis, and Robert. Alisander nearly choked on his pickled egg.

“No indeed, dear lady,” Robert hastened to assure her. “I can easily vacate my room and sleep in a truckle bed in your dressing room, Master Sander.”

“You will do no such thing, Robert,” Alisander interrupted him. “Your room remains your room. Wat, however, must move his bedding in with you. Ayleth can have his old room.” A spasm of irritation showed on Wat’s face, and Alisander wryly acknowledged the change in circumstances would cause him some inconvenience.

Robert looked doubtful. “Wat’s old room is naught but a cupboard, my lord,” he protested in an urgent whisper, which Alisander ignored, turning back to the table at large. “Davis does not live in with us in any case. He bunks down in a shared room above the kitchens.”

Davis nodded, for his mouth was currently occupied chewing his third plate of food.

“You’ve a fine appetite, Master Davis,” Anne marveled, just before Bertrand set up a loud and furious wail at being neglected for so long while his mother ate. Anne stood up hastily and started to energetically pace about the room, jiggling the child in her arms. “There now Bertrand, look at the fine pictures and candlesticks,” she encouraged him. “Is this not quality living?”

After supper was finished, Wat and Davis were dispatched to fetch hot water for baths. The trunks were thrown open, and Robert and Ayleth started unpacking them. Anne disappeared into the guest bedroom with both babies to arrange things to her satisfaction.

Alisander took the opportunity to show Jane into his bedchamber. It was a large handsome room with a huge stone hearth, a large, canopied bed in black and gold, and vibrant tapestries depicting unicorns and dancing beasts which practically covered three of the four walls.

“None of my things have been placed in here,” she commented, glancing about and finding none of her own possessions placed thereabouts.

“No,” he agreed. “I will have them brought in. Robert would not have anticipated we would have to share.” He crossed the room. “Through here,” he said, flinging open another door, “is my dressing room.”

Jane looked surprised that he expected her to take a look, but she dutifully followed and peered around the door. “Alisander, this room is huge!” she gasped, turning back to look at him. “It must be the biggest room in the entire apartment!”

“Of course.” He shrugged.

“But … for dressing? You could fit three beds in here!”

“Why should I? This is where I house my clothes.”

Jane gazed about open-mouthed at the trunks full of clothes; the cabinets stuffed full of pearl-studded hats and dyed leather shoes; the studded strong-boxes wherein he housed his jewels; the full-length mirror propped against the far wall. “Do you really wear all of these things?” she asked, clearing her throat at last.