"You have heard true, Sir Richard," said the same gentleman who had hitherto spoken to him, the others being busily engaged in a conversation of their own--"you have heard true; a bevy of lovelier dames has seldom been seen. There is the Countess of Pembroke, and Mortimer's wife; but she is ugly enough, Heaven knows! Then there is the young lady, De Veux, and Lord Audley's daughter; and chief of all, Hugh de Monthermer's lady-love, your fair cousin, Lucy de Ashby."
There was a certain touch of malice in his tone as he spoke, for it is wonderful how soon men discover any weak point in their fellow-men, and still more extraordinary how much pleasure they derive from saying things that may give pain to others, without producing the slightest benefit whatever to themselves. Perhaps the courtier, Sir Harry Grey, who now spoke with Richard de Ashby, had in view to provoke him to one of those outbursts of passion which to our corrupt hearts generally afford matter of merriment rather than commiseration; but if he did so, he was disappointed.
A momentary expression of intense wrath convulsed the features of Richard de Ashby, but he uttered not a word in reply. He paused thoughtfully, filled another cup of wine, but did not drink it, gazed down upon the edge of his knife, and then turning round to his companion, said, "How warm it is! How can you all sit here with the casement closed?"
"The boys of the village were staring in," answered Sir Harry Grey, "looking at us like wild beasts in a cage, so we were forced to close the casement and draw the curtain. They are gone now--you can open it.--But you do not tell me what you think of this coming alliance. He is very wealthy, handsome, renowned; we all think it will answer very well.
"Do you?" said Richard de Ashby, drily. "Why, I rather think, Sir Harry, it is no business either of yours or mine; although, to speak the truth, I believe you are mistaken, and that there is no such alliance toward."
"Oh, but it is the talk of the whole court!" cried the other. "He is ever with her, or with the Lord of Ashby, and besides, the Earl has been known to say--" and he went on to repeat some twenty rumours of the day concerning the marriage of Hugh de Monthermer and Lucy de Ashby, not one of which contained a word of truth.
Still, however, Richard de Ashby remained unmoved--at least, to all appearance; and after merely asking who else was at the court, and receiving a somewhat lengthened answer, giving him the names of fifteen or sixteen ladies in whom he had no interest whatsoever, he arose, saying, "I must to bed, for I depart at daybreak to-morrow."
"What! do you not visit the King?" demanded one of the other gentlemen, who had not yet spoken.
"No, no," replied he, "I go on to Nottingham to meet him. I have business of importance. Good night--good night;" and he left the room.
"You galled him, Grey," said Sir Andrew Geary--"You galled him hard about that marriage."