Grisly Grisell
alisbury, cal
porary
s returned a message that if the maid was dead she should be embalmed and sent north to be buried in the family vault, when her father would be at all charges. Moreover, that the boy should be called to account for his
ed his title by marriage with Alice Montagu, heiress of that earldom. His youngest sister had married Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York, who being descended from Lionel, D
nd had estates larger even than those of his father. He had not, however, as yet come forward, and the dis
spected the Queen, as a Frenchwoman, of truckling to the enemy. Jack Cade's rising and the murder of the Duke of Suffolk had been the outcome of this feeling. Indeed, Lord Salisbury's messenger reported the Country about London to be in so disturbed a state that it was no wonder that the Lady of Whitburn did not make the journey. She was not, as the Countess susp
, one as if from Salisbury, the other from the north; and presently he reported that the former wore the family badge, a white rosette, the latter none at all, whence it was perceived that the latter were adherents
he fore front of the party, and the Lord of Salisbury hastened to re
eech, and she returned his salute with somewhat rough courtesy, demand
and the leech trusts tha
further had befallen her. Be that as it may, no
unding gate the other troop, at sight of whom the Lady of Whitburn drew herself up, redoubling her grim dignity, and turning it into indignation as a young page rushed forward t
us, murderous fellow was in safe hold,
ily answered Salisbury. "Pardon me,
t in salutation, but almost her first words were, "Madam, you at least will not let the murde
case. Praise be to the saints," sai
p for the enemies of him, and the friends of France, is more than a plain North Country woman like me can understand. And there-there, turning round upon the s
rned Lady Salisbury with dignity, "nor that a North Country dame could expect it of him
ng it up, for the patient had been installed in one of the best guest-chambers of the Castle. Lady Whitburn was surprised, but was too proud to show herself gratified by what she thought was the due of the dig
alf of the face which alone was as yet visible, gave a cry, "She will be a fright! You evil little baggage, thus to get yourself scarred and made hideous! Running where you ought not, I warrant!" and she put out her ha
ow? and as to a nunnery, where is one to take her without a dower such as is hard to find, with t
Earl," said the gentle Countess; "but youn
d Lady Whitburn. "Now, the least that can be done is to force yonder malapert lad and hi
ed to her?" ask
l the rest, thought to heal the breach between the houses by planning a con
room, but both she and her Earl had a very trying evening, in trying to keep the peace between the two parents. Sir William Copeland was devot
re, then the only child of the Lord of Whitburn. He had also obtained that the two children should be bred up in the household of the Earl of Salisbury, by way of letting them grow up toget
esent from younger girls, and when he was thirteen, and she ten years old, there was very little affection on his side.
this openly, reporters were not wanting to tell her that the Queen called her the great northern hag, or that her rugged unwilling curtsey was said to look as if she were stooping to draw water at a well. Her husband had kept her in some restraint, but when be had gone to Ireland with the Duke of York, offences seemed to multiply upon
be not good enough for you, she can have no call here!" And wi
nce was no longer required. So here she was going out of her way to make a casual inquiry, from th
and a canopy overhead; the Earl and Countess on chairs in the centre of the long narrow table. Lady Whitburn sat beside the Earl, Sir William Copeland by the Countess, watching with pleasure how deftly his son ran about among the pages, carrying the trenchers of food, and the cups. He entered on a conversation with the Countess, tell
s and shavelings," broke in the
s-lodged in houses around," said Sir William, "
and the Countess, "what for but to make them as feck
he same hand cannot wield p
n a Border foray," laughed the Dame of Dac
he Earl, in an i
ore, so that her folk may have the better of them in France; and the poor,
the roast. Will you partake of
boy, it so chanced that the bird made a sudden leap from the impalement, and deposited itself in the lap of Lady Whitburn's scarlet kir
own greed, w
ely, the offender was no other than Leonard Copeland, and, contrary to all the laws of pagedom, he
it as his just desert when he was ordered off under the squire in charge to be sou
m as usual in all his scrapes, "'Tis she that should have been scourged for clumsiness! A foul, uncouth Border dame! W
und to affiance his son instantly to her poor daughter, all the more since the injuries he had inflicted to her face could never be done away with. On the other hand, Sir William Copeland was naturally far less
holding to the former understanding; but the loud clamours and rude language of Lady Whitburn were enough to set any one in opposition to her, and moreover, the wor
o the Earl, whose support she thought cool and unfriendly
to York and Raby, you would deal with this
Border, madam," qui
ironical smile which Salisbury could not suppress. "Is this your castle, or is it not? Then bring him and his lad to my poor wench's side, and see their troth plighted, or l
he angry woman, "I counsel you, in the south at least, to have some respect to thes
Romance
Romance
Romance
Romance
Romance
Werewolf