They came at length to a small arched doorway. The guard rapped, the metallic sound of his mailed gauntlet hammering the oak. A deep voice bade them enter.
A man of about forty summers with the bushiest, snow-white eyebrows Roland had ever seen glared at the intrusion. “I was not to be disturbed,” he shouted.
His anger fled as soon as he espied Adelina. “My dear child,” he exclaimed, signaling his servant to fetch a chair. “What has befallen this lady?”
“Pirates, my lord,” the guard explained nervously. “I thought you should know right away.”
* * *
Adelina accepted Terric’s help to sit, but de Lacy’s narrowed gaze was a worrisome sign he was skeptical about the tale of pirates. “If your servant could fetch something to quench my raging thirst, my lord,” she pleaded hoarsely.
“We would all be grateful,” Roland added.
De Lacy’s eyes widened, clearly surprised Roland had addressed him in Norman French. When the Constable ordered his servant to fetch tankards of ale from the kitchens, she could only assume some silent communication had passed between them.
“You’re Normans,” de Lacy said after his servant had departed.
“You’re partly correct, sir. I am Roland de Montbryce. I’m accompanied by my brother, Adrien and my English cousins, Terric and Adelina de Quincey. I apologize for our ragged appearance.”
De Lacy’s bushy eyebrows made it difficult to ascertain his reaction, but Adelina was encouraged when he took her hand and bestowed a courtly kiss. “You and your brother are a long way from Sussex, Lady Adelina. I suspect you’ve had a difficult journey.”
She had to hope his familiarity with her family name was a good omen. “Indeed, sir. It’s a convoluted story of how we came to be in Chester. Baron d’Aigremont suggested we seek your help.”
“So, I assume the narrative does not involve pirates?” de Lacy remarked with a wry smile. “Other than the one who stole your ancestral home.”
Afraid they might be venturing onto shifting sands, Adelina looked to Roland.
“You have rightly guessed part of the tale, my lord,” he declared. “The de Quinceys are a branch of the Montbryce…”
De Lacy held up his hand. “I am more than aware of your illustrious family, young man. My ancestors and yours fought side by side at Hastings. We don’t have time for you to recount all the details of your predicament. I assume you wish to get back to Normandie.”
“We would be grateful for horses and safe passage to the Marches,” Roland replied. “The Earl of Ellesmere will assist us from there.”
“Ah, yes, your cousin, William de Montbryce. He and I see eye to eye on many things. However, I suggest a night’s rest here before you journey on. What say you, Lady Adelina?”
“I cannot thank you enough for your kindness, my lord,” she replied.
Two hours later, after a relaxing bath in a comfortable chamber, she enjoyed a tasty and filling meal brought from the kitchens. She felt isolated separated from her male companions. Roland’s sulk made it clear he didn’t like the idea of her sleeping in a separate chamber, but she obviously couldn’t bed down with him, Adrien and Terric. Her brother was no happier about her being alone, but they agreed there was nothing to be done about it.
De Lacy had been more than generous. Roland’s crew had been fed and billeted and the Constable had undertaken to provide transportation and safe passage to Ellesmere Castle.