The Knight and the Dove

by Lori Wick

  She would have stood for some time, simply taking in the wonder of it all, but something or someone pounded at the door. Megan started.

  “What was that?”

  “Only some of the servants securing the door.”

  Megan looked at her in confusion, and then her face cleared.

  “I forgot about Bracken’s plan for my sleepwalking, but where do I get out?”

  Louisa pointed to a closed door, and Megan laughed to see Joyce standing nearby.

  “I didn’t even see you.”

  “I know.” Joyce came forward with a huge smile. “That door is to Bracken’s room and his dressing area. Then behind you,” Joyce let her turn, “is the doorway to your salon. The only door into the passageway is through Bracken’s dressing area, which means if you start to prowl you’ll have to go past Bracken, then Lyndon, and quite possibly Arik.”

  Megan laughed and commented that she would have to look around, whereupon both women laughed.

  “Later, Meg,” Louisa said. “Bracken awaits you.”

  “Oh.” She had been completely unaware of the time and only just now did she understand the purpose of Louisa’s spiriting her away.

  The older women helped Megan from her gown and saw her into a lovely night garment, also tenderly sewn by Louisa’s capable hands. Joyce brushed her hair, and then both women hugged her and took their leave through Bracken’s room, leaving the door open behind them.

  Megan stood still for only a moment before her curiosity got the best of her. She approached the door and peeked inside. Leaning against the bedpost, Bracken stood and simply watched her. His beautiful, dark wedding coat was gone and he wore only shirt, trunks, and hose.

  “Are you going to join me?” He sounded so amused that Megan came forward. The room was shadowy so she could make little out.

  “Louisa said we were coming upstairs to freshen up,” Megan began when she stopped a few feet in front of Bracken.

  “Do you feel refreshed?”

  “Yes, but neither your aunt nor your mother mentioned that this was all a plan for my husband to steal me away.”

  Bracken’s beard split with a grin. “Forgive me?”

  “Yes,” Megan told him and smiled in return.

  “We are both strong-willed, Megan,” Bracken surprised her by saying. “We both like to have our way.”

  Listening keenly to his serious tone as well as his words, Megan nodded.

  “We have quarreled and we will quarrel again, but I want our differences to be put aside in this room. When we come to this room, I want our troubles and disputes to be left at the door.”

  “Yes, Bracken,” Megan told him, thinking they were wise words.

  Not knowing how she would respond, Bracken was warmed tremendously by her agreement, and he stood staring at her for just a moment, his heart swelling with love as well as pride that she was finally his. A second later he reached for her, and Megan came gently into his arms.

  The following day was busy. It began with a huge meal to break the fast, and then came Vincent and Annora’s departure. Megan was not certain how they would part, but it was better than she had hoped. Her father hugged her and thanked her warmly, and her mother, although reserved, did thank her for Hawkings Crest’s fine hospitality. Annora was not a woman easily pleased, so Megan took this as high praise.

  Midmorning saw everyone in various pursuits and pastimes. Megan and Kristine were playing a game, and most of the men were at the archery butts. Bracken and his mother found themselves alone in her salon in the tower.

  “It was a wonderful celebration, Bracken.”

  “Yes, it was,” he agreed. “I’d like to repeat it, only I wouldn’t want to go through the waiting again.”

  Joyce smiled contentedly. “Just remember to court her, Bracken.”

  “Court her?” Bracken frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about wooing your wife.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  Joyce sighed very gently. He really didn’t know. He had spent so much time running Hawkings Crest that he had taken very little notice of the ways between men and women. Joyce was proud of the fact that her sons were not rakes or libertines, but Bracken was so unknowledgeable that it concerned Joyce. At a time when Bracken should have been observing his own parents’ love, he was a fatherless young man running a huge keep. Joyce prayed and answered him gently.

  “Bracken, I am only suggesting that you continue to do things that let Megan know you care. I know that Megan would never be unfaithful to you, but you can make her much happier in your marriage if you let her know she is loved and desired.”

  Bracken still frowned at her, and Joyce knew she would have to let the matter drop. Megan’s face from that morning swam before her eyes. The younger woman’s smile was bright, and her eyes were at peace, but her cheeks had been so pale. Maybe in time, her words to Bracken would take on more meaning.

  WINDSOR CASTLE

  “You say Marigold is here?” Henry asked of James Nayland.

  “Yes, my king. She arrived yesterday.”

  “Yesterday? Was that not Bracken and Megan’s day to be wed?”

  “Yes, your grace, it was.”

  Henry frowned, and James waited for the storm, but the king remained calm.

  “The wedding did take place, did it not?”

  “Yes, my lord, just as scheduled, and in less time, I might add, than the six months you allotted.”

  Henry was silent for several moments. “Are the rumors still coming in concerning Marigold’s association with young Kirkpatrick?”

  “Yes. She has been careful, but a few have seen her.”

  “I must tread with caution where Lord Kirkpatrick is concerned; I want to do everything possible to keep his alliance.”

  “Because of his wife’s connections with Spain?”

  “Yes. See to it that Marigold is at my table tonight,” Henry now told the loyal counselor. “She hasn’t graced our courts with her fair countenance in several months, and I wish to visit with her.”

  Hours later Henry had his wish, as Marigold, a vision in black, sat beside him at the head table. They had talked of many things over the course of the meal, but Henry now mentioned the wedding.

  “Why didn’t you attend your sister’s wedding?”

  “I will.” Marigold didn’t even hesitate. “It’s next week.”

  “No, Marigold, it was yesterday.”

  She really could do the most amazing things with her eyes, but Henry was not fooled.

  “Yesterday? Surely you jest, my lord. I am certain my mother said next week.”

  “No,” Henry said with a shake of his head while pretending to be absorbed with his food.

  “I’ll have to send word of my regrets.” Marigold’s voice was a study of contrition.

  “Why didn’t you want the man yourself ?” Henry asked, knowing that James Nayland, from a nearby seat, was hearing all and watching very carefully.

  “My sister’s heart was set on him.” Again her voice was regretful.

  “Well, she’s a lucky girl. I have great plans for Bracken of Hawkings Crest.”

  “Oh?” Marigold tried for casual interest, but couldn’t quite pull it off. Henry had to fight a self-satisfied smile.

  “Yes. He’s an earl now, but I have better for him.”

  So as not to turn his head, Henry only glanced down out of the corner of his eye. He could not see the beautiful blonde’s face, but the hand, tightening to white around her goblet, told him all he needed to know.

  Twenty-Eight

  IT WAS VERY HARD FOR MEGAN TO SEE Bracken’s family leave, but the time had come. Unbeknownst to her, the family had discussed leaving in stages, but when all was said and done, it was decided that a mass exodus was best.

  Megan knew she would miss them all, but Louisa’s absence was especially going to pain her. She had been with them at Hawkings Crest for so long that Megan found herself asking just how she was goin
g to handle her departure. If the tears clogging her throat were any indication, she was not going to enjoy it at all.

  She was in deep conversation with that very woman as Bracken, just yards away in the courtyard, spoke with his mother and brothers.

  “Plan to come again in the spring.”

  “Megan’s birthday,” Joyce guessed correctly.

  “Yes,” Bracken went on. “We will have a tourney and celebrate my wife’s eighteenth year in a style befitting her.”

  No one could stop the smiles over the way Bracken had said my wife. It was a delight to watch his love of her blossom. They talked on for some minutes while Louisa and Megan had their own time.

  “You’ll come again soon?”

  Louisa hugged her. “Of course I will. You could come to see me as well.”

  Megan’s eyes widened, and Louisa laughed. It was clear that the younger girl had never considered this.

  “Oh, Megan,” Louisa now turned earnest, “I can’t begin to express what you have done for me.”

  Megan smiled. “Not I, Louisa; God alone.”

  “Yes,” the new believer agreed. “God alone. I like that, Megan. I will remember to walk with God alone.”

  Megan had to hug her again.

  “I still have so many questions,” she told Megan after a moment.

  “And you will find the answers, Louisa. Of that I’m sure. And don’t forget Derek. He will be searching as well.”

  As if he’d heard his name, that young man joined them.

  “I can see that Mother is going to cry halfway to London.” Derek’s voice was light, and Louisa teased him right back.

  “Oh, I don’t know; I might cry all the way.”

  Derek gave her a comical look of horror and then thanked Megan solemnly.

  “I hope you will visit often,” she told him. “And bring your mother.”

  “I will plan on it,” he said and bent to kiss her cheek.

  The others gathered now, and soon all were exchanging last-minute hugs before riding on their way.

  The courtyard seemed empty without them, and Megan’s heart was heavy. In truth, she wished she could go to her room and have a good cry.

  The idea was tempting, but Megan suddenly remembered that she had lost some of her privacy upon her marriage. Having to enter through Bracken’s room was at times something of a hindrance.

  “Will you be all right?” Bracken asked of her when the dust of the inner keep had begun to settle.

  “I am not sure,” she answered honestly.

  Bracken put a gentle arm around her shoulders, but when she stiffened he immediately withdrew. It was clear that she wanted to mourn their leaving on her own. Still, he cared and wanted her to know this.

  “I shall be at the training fields if you need me.”

  “Thank you, Bracken,” Megan told him, and watched as he turned and walked away in the morning sun.

  The first day of November was upon them when a missive came from London. The king wished to see both Bracken of Hawkings Crest and his bride of six weeks. Megan nearly panicked.

  “Why would he wish to see us? We have done as he asked.”

  “Megan,” Bracken tried to reassure her. “There is nothing to fear. As you stated, we have done as he asked; he merely wants to see us.”

  “But Bracken, he’s the king.”

  “He is but a man, Megan, and no one to be feared.”

  She tried to calm the frantic beating of her heart, but it was with an effort. The missive asked that Bracken present himself in one week, which left Megan little time if she had nothing appropriate to wear. Megan turned suddenly from her husband and started away.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To check on my clothing.” And yours! Megan suddenly thought. She turned back. “Have you something to wear, Bracken?”

  He hid a smile. “I’m sure I have several suitable choices.”

  Megan nodded absently and continued on her way. Bracken said something, but she didn’t attend. It was all too sudden.

  However, as Megan climbed the stairs a bright spot appeared on the horizon. Louisa lived in London, and Bracken was sure to plan a visit.

  Megan had been to London many years ago and had enjoyed it immensely. She thought she might enjoy it once again, but her nerves were so rattled that she saw little as they rode toward the king’s residence after a long day on the road.

  Megan had never known such disappointment as to find out that they were expected to stay at Windsor Castle. Bracken promised her a visit to Louisa’s before they returned to Hawkings Crest, but Megan, wishing she could see a familiar face, felt very let down that it could not be sooner.

  The castle was grand, but Megan felt little elation as they entered. She was tired and dirty and more than anything desired a bath and bed. She knew that her servants felt the same way, and if it had been possible to give a magical blink and be back at Hawkings Crest, Megan would have done so.

  “Good evening, my lord. Good evening, my lady,” a guard intoned as he met them in the vast foyer. “I will show you to your rooms. The king dines in an hour and requests your presence.”

  Bracken nodded, having clearly expected this, but Megan could have wept. With the late hour, it was inconceivable to her that the king had still not eaten. She and Bracken had not taken refreshment either, but Megan was too tired to care.

  Gaining their rooms took some time as they walked down one massive hallway after another, but they were finally in their own suite. Helga was unpacking for Megan, but Bracken soon joined them and dismissed Megan’s faithful lady with a nod.

  “Will you be all right?” It seemed this was all Bracken asked her of late.

  “It seems that I have little choice to be anything else.”

  “On the contrary, if you are not doing well, I will make your regrets to Henry.”

  “You can’t do that!” Megan was horrified, and Bracken actually laughed.

  “Megan, he is no monster. Indeed, he is a man who likes to have his way, but if you are tired he will understand.”

  Megan stood and tried to reckon with all that had occurred. She drew a huge breath and let it out slowly.

  “I will join you. I am tired, but not overly so, and I do not think I will sleep at all if I must wait until morning to meet the king.”

  Bracken smiled at her pluck but wasn’t at all surprised. The Megan he knew rose to every occasion. “I’ll call for you shortly.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  Thirty minutes later Megan was as good as her word. Her wimple in place, she was a vision in navy blue and gold when Bracken came for her. Since she’d taken some time to pray, her face was serene. She took Bracken’s offered arm, and fortunately for Megan, he began a conversation meant to soothe.

  “I really preferred it when you wore your hair down.”

  “You did? You never told me that before.”

  “I’m telling you now.”

  “Well, I’m a married woman now. It’s not proper for my hair to hang long.”

  “Says who?”

  “Well,” Megan faltered. “Everyone.”

  “Umm.” Bracken sounded clearly skeptical. “I guess I’ll go along with it while we are here, but I am the final say at Hawkings Crest, and when we get home, you can do away with your wimples.”

  “Why, Bracken, that’s outrageous! It’s not proper, I tell you.”

  “And who says we need to be proper all of the time? It’s probably ‘everyone’ again.”

  Megan smiled at his teasing, not realizing that he was quite serious about wanting her hair down. Indeed, it was a good thing she did not know. It would have left them arguing when they reached King Henry’s massive dining hall.

  “The Earl and Countess of Hawkesbury,” the footman announced in a thundering voice as Bracken and Megan stood on the threshold.

  As they stepped forward, Bracken felt Megan’s hand tighten on his arm, and he spoke to her in a soft, reassuring voice.

 
“You will do me proud, Megan. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “What if I say the wrong thing?”

  “You won’t.”

  He sounded so confident that Megan felt reassured. Her chin rose slightly as they walked across the huge tile floor, and when she saw a group of women watching her handsome husband with appreciative eyes, she smiled with great pride.

  Henry was in a group against one wall, and Bracken moved slowly in that direction. It had been years since they’d seen one another, but Henry recognized him. Bracken knew some pride of his own when Henry broke away and came toward them. Megan curtsied low, and Bracken bowed when the king stopped a few feet before them.

  “Welcome, Bracken,” Henry spoke, his voice deep and resonant.

  “Thank you, my lord. If it please your highness, may I present my wife, Lady Megan, late of Stone Lake.”

  “Hello, Megan. Welcome to Windsor Castle.”

  “Thank you, your grace. I am honored at your hospitality.”

  The king smiled. He had heard that Marigold’s younger sister could not hold a candle to that blonde beauty but Henry found her lovely and very charming. It passed through his mind that she might also be as deceitful as Marigold, but then he warned himself not to judge too swiftly.

  “I would like to meet with you tomorrow, Bracken.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Afternoon. Two o’clock.”

  “Certainly.”

  With that, the older man moved off. Megan stood in shock.

  “That’s all there is to it?”

  Bracken’s grin was lopsided. “Well, that’s all there is for you. I must still meet with Henry tomorrow.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “No. Curious, but not afraid.”

  Megan was amazed at his calm. She did not know what she would have done without him.

  They circulated some, and Megan met other lords and ladies, but it wasn’t long before they were seated separately for dinner. Megan found herself seated among men and women she did not know, but who had obviously been to court before.