by Lynn Kurland
"I thought you might need some help."
He suspected that now was not the time to point out that he was the trained warrior, not she. She was trembling in his arms, and he supposed that she either felt badly for his loss or realized how close she had come to death. He could scarce chide her for her act, especially when it had been conceived as a means to aid him.
" 'Twas a generous gesture," he said.
"I never meant for you to lose your keep."
"I gained my lady in its place." He paused. "Where is your sacred relic sack?"
"Strapped to your horse."
"Well, see?" he said. "You've your dowry to offer me, as well as your fetching self. What else could I want?"
She twisted to look up at him. "You want me?"
He smiled dryly. "I just traded my birthright for you. What does that tell you?"
"Was that a proposal of marriage?"
He laughed softly. "I'll give you a proper one when I've decided where we'll go."
"Oh," she said, "I kind of liked being haggled over with your father's knife at my throat. Really. What more could a girl want when it comes to romance?"
He wrapped his arms around her and held on, amazed at how comforting it was to do the like. He'd made the right choice. What was a pile of stones when compared to a woman whom he thought might just learn to love him in time?
He found himself turning toward the east and realized he was heading toward Artane. It was home enough for the present. He could wed her there properly, then perhaps they would decide what to do.
He smiled, because he simply couldn't help himself.
eight
Julianna had learned, after three days of slow travel, how to sleep in manly arms on the back of a horse. Riding a horse was not a skill she had ever planned on having, but apparently it was something she was going to have to add to her repertoire. When in Rome—rather, when in medieval England…
They'd elected to rise in the middle of the previous night and get going. She hadn't been all that excited by the idea, but when William had promised her a soft bed instead of lumpy ground if they hurried, she'd quickly found more enthusiasm for the idea. She'd just as quickly fallen asleep in the saddle, propped up against William's chest.
The lightening of the sky had woken her—that and a healthy poke from her quasi-fiancé. She'd opened her eyes.
And fought a healthy round of hiccups.
It was a castle, and what a castle. It looked horrendously medieval, in mint condition and—distressingly enough—inhabited. She'd seen a few inhabited castles during her tenure in England as a student, but they'd been updated with things like electricity, AGA stoves and indoor plumbing. There had usually been cars parked out in front and some sort of accommodations for touristy visits. Villages had consisted of quaint brick houses, nicely paved streets and hospitable B&Bs.
Not open sewers, huts made from straw and inhabitants who looked as if they had never taken a bath in their lives.
The very functional drawbridge was down and a continual stream of humanity crossed over it either on foot or horseback. Julianna felt incredibly conspicuous in her Keds and Donna Karan suit. William removed his cloak from his shoulders and draped it over the front of her. It didn't, however, cover her shoes.
"Better?" he asked.
"Oh, sure," she agreed. "It'll keep me warm until they stoke up the fire to burn me at the stake."
He only snorted out a little laugh and expertly avoided trampling a peasant boy or two who were scuffling near the guard tower.
They dismounted in the courtyard. Julianna found that she could do nothing but clutch William's hand and gape at her surroundings. Her purse found itself hoisted over his shoulder for safekeeping, and she found herself being led up steps into what she could only assume was the great hall. Maybe she wasn't much of a judge in such matters, but it looked as if whoever owned this place was incredibly rich.
"You grew up here?" she managed as he opened the door for her.
He looked down at her with an amused smile. "Aye. Does that surprise you?"
"Your family must have buckets of money."
"And my grandsire had several sons and a pair of daughters. Gold doesn't last long with so many children to see to."
She paused before they went inside and looked at the man who had not only saved her life, but had practically proposed as well. She wondered if he resented the wealth, since he certainly didn't have very much of it himself. And now he had even less, thanks to her.
"I'm sorry about your castle," she said.
He waved aside her words. "I've told you—how many times now?—that I feel myself well rid of the place. 'Twas a generous gesture on my grandsire's part, and I daresay he knew I was grateful. But there is more to life than a pile of stones."
"But—"
"It would have taken a great deal of work to have made it habitable, Julianna."
"Well, remodeling is hell," she agreed.
He kissed her briefly. "We'll rest here for a few days, then see where our fancy takes us." He smiled encouragingly. "We'll find someplace that suits. And you'll not starve. I haven't fed you very well as of yet, but I promise I'll do better. For now, my uncle sets a fine table and we'll eat our fill."
And that seemed to be all he wanted to say on the matter. Not that he would have had a chance for much more talking because Julianna found herself swept up into activity that was almost annoying in its intensity after days out in the boonies.
To think she had once enjoyed the bustle of New York City.
William's uncle descended upon them with smiles and hearty hugs, closely followed by his wife and so many of William's cousins and other assorted family that Julianna gave up trying to keep names straight. What she did understand was the offer of clean clothes. She worried, as the women prepared to abscond with her to places unknown, that she might not be quick enough on her feet to come up with a decent explanation about her origins, but William solved it for her. He put one arm around her and the other around his aunt and spoke in a low voice.
"Julianna is from Manhattan," he began.
"Where?" his aunt queried.
"A little place that would likely seem very strange to us. They have different forms of dress and the like, and she's very tender about it all. You'll take care of her, won't you, and not hurt her feelings?" he finished, looking at his aunt with a devastating smile.
At least Julianna was devastated by his smile. Apparently his aunt wasn't immune to his charms either.
"Of course, love," she said promptly.
Julianna looked at him openmouthed, but he only winked at her and sauntered away.
"What a lovely pair of shoes," his aunt remarked kindly.
Julianna gulped and managed an inarticulate sort of response she sincerely hoped passed as a thank-you.
A short while later she found herself in a room where she was washed, coiffed and perfumed by a handful of women she'd never seen before. She was then dressed in clothes that were made on the fly by a handful of very speedy seamstresses. Her shoes were examined closely, then cleaned expertly. The beads were lovingly and thoroughly buffed to a brilliant shine. Julianna modeled her new outfit, then looked down at her feet and burst out laughing.
If any of her professors could have seen her, dressed in medieval finery with Keds on her feet, they would have swooned.
No one else seemed to find it strange though, so she turned her attentions to other things—namely a little nap. She had eaten heartily during her morning of beauty so when she was offered a bed, she took off her gown without a second thought, crawled under the sheets in her sliplike shift and promptly passed out.
She woke to find it was morning again, and she was surrounded by women bent on foofing her up for some kind of shindig.
"What's going on?" she asked sleepily as she was dragged out of bed.
William's cousins all laughed. "Your marriage, of course," they all said together.
She was dressed, her hair was brai
ded and done up in some sort of medieval headgear, and she was hustled to the chapel almost before she was awake enough to realize it.
The place was packed.
What she wanted was to sit down and take stock of the situation.
She spent the rest of the day wanting to sit down and take stock of the situation.
But by the time she actually managed to get a grip on the events of the day, it was evening, and she was in Artane's tower room facing her husband who looked much less bewildered than she felt. She looked down at the simple gold ring that he had apparently given her at some point during the wedding ceremony. She looked up at him.
"Did you propose to me yet?" she asked, scratching her head.
"I believe, my lady," he said gravely, "that 'tis too late for that. I fear I've already wed you."
"And I said yes."
"That was the word you gasped out when I pinched you, aye," he said, a twinkle coming into his eye.
"Well," she said with a frown, "I don't remember much of it."
"Then let me remind you. We met before our beloved priest who demanded a recounting of all we would bring to the union. You offered—"
"My sacred relic sack."
"Aye, and my family was most impressed with the sheer weight of it. I brought myself—"
She looked at him narrowly. "And quite a bit else if memory serves." She pointed a finger at him. "You said you were poor."
"Well, I'm less poor this evening than I was this morning," he said with a snort. "My uncle was passing, and stubbornly, generous."
"Of course you didn't have any gold stashed in his castle either," she said pointedly.
He shrugged. "I wasn't completely without a thought for the future. I could have set aside more, I suppose, but I never planned to need it. My cache certainly wasn't enough to make me rich. But my uncle's gift of several dozen knight's fees…"
"That was a nice thing for him to do."
"Aye, and it will likely get us murdered on the side of the road," he said with a grimace.
"Cheer up," she said. "It could be worse."
He looked at her silently for a moment or two, then smiled. "Aye. I could have passed on my grandsire's gift and never come back to England. I could have never gone to Redesburn. And look you what I would have missed."
She smiled weakly. "And I would still be sitting against that wall, covered in various forms of, well—"
"Aye," he agreed. "That."
She stood there and looked at him. He returned her gaze steadily. Julianna wiped her hands on her dress. It wasn't as if she hadn't thought about doing, well, it before. She had. Lots. She'd just never really had the right guy and the right time in the right place.
She put her shoulders back. All that had changed. She was now married to a gorgeous man who apparently liked her well enough to give up his inheritance for her. His future plans certainly seemed to include her in a big way.
He was waiting.
Julianna held up her bag. "What do you want first, me or my dowry?"
"Your dowry."
Her smile faltered. "Oh," she said. She held out her bag. "Here, then."
He took it and set it down behind him. "That's done, then. Now I'll have you."
"Oh," she said, feeling quite a bit better.
He held out his hands and she put hers into them. He pulled her a step closer, then smiled down at her. Julianna watched the candlelight flickering over his face and wondered why she hadn't done more things by candlelight when she'd had the choice. It was a very soft, gentle light. She suspected it was something she could learn to appreciate very much.
"May I say something?" William said. "In all seriousness?"
Oh, great. Was he going to tell her that along with the "minor" amount of gold he'd managed to send home for safekeeping, he had a mistress or two tucked away as well?
"Yes?" she asked sharply.
He clasped his hands behind his back and looked at her solemnly. "I hope," he began slowly, "I hope that in time you will, if nothing else, become fond of me." He took a deep breath. "Nay, that isn't what I mean. I hope that in time, you will come to love me."
Then he shut his mouth and looked at her in silence.
"That's it?" she asked, incredulous.
"Aye," he said stiffly. "Unless the thought—"
"I thought you were going to tell me you had a mistress!"
He looked at her with an expression of complete bewilderment. "I just wed you. Why would I keep a mistress?"
"You tell me."
"I'm telling you that I have fond feelings for you," he said, sounding as if those feelings were about to take a hike out the door. "Feelings that I am quite certain will only increase with time. And I hoped," he added with a scowl, "that you might feel the same way."
Julianna felt many things, but most overwhelming of which was surprise that she found herself standing in the tower room of a castle, married to a man she had known not quite a week, and happier than she'd ever been in her life,even when faced with a dwindling stash of junk food and no possibility of indoor plumbing in the near future.
So she took a step forward, put her arms around her medieval knight and snuggled against his chest. His arms went immediately around her in a sure embrace. Julianna sighed happily.
"Well?" His voice rumbled deeply in his chest.
"Yes," she said. "I think it's more than possible." She pulled back only far enough to look up at him. "I think it's unavoidable."
He bent his head and kissed her softly. "Then let me make you mine in truth. With any luck at all, that will endear me to you and start us on the proper path."
"You don't want to look in my bag first?"
He shook her head with a smile. "Later. I've the true prize in my arms and no desire to relinquish it. The other will keep."
How could she argue with that?
And she found that along with being an exceptional swordsman, her husband was an exceptional lover.
She was very grateful she'd had such a good night's sleep the night before.
Julianna opened her eyes and realized that it was morning. She realized then that it had been the cold that had awakened her. Odd how one grew accustomed to the warmth of a husband in such short order.
Odder still how one grew accustomed to other things as well in such short order.
The thought of that made her blush and she was grateful the candle that burned on the table probably wouldn't give her away. Who would have thought it? If she'd known that's what she'd been missing, she might have indulged a little sooner.
Then again, perhaps it all had to do with the man she had married.
She turned that thought over in her head for some time,coming quite easily to the conclusion that William and a ring on her finger had made all the difference—then she tried to get up. She clenched her teeth to keep from groaning from the protests of sore muscles.
"Are you unwell?"
The deep voice startled her and she sat up with a squeak.
" 'Tis only me, Julianna," William said, sounding amused. He was sitting at the table, but turned to look at her. "Who else?"
"Who else indeed," she muttered as she gingerly got to her feet and pulled a blanket off the bed. She wrapped it around her and went round the end of the bed to stand next to her husband. He was holding her copy of The Canterbury Tales and fondling it with what she could only term reverence. "Find anything interesting?" she asked, noting the contents of her bag littering the table.
He shivered. "Interesting, nay. Unsettling, aye."
"I told you the truth."
He looked up at her, then put his arm around her waist and hugged her. "Aye, and more the fool am I for not having believed you at first."
"It's a lot to take in."
He dropped his arm and bowed his head. "Aye. It is."
She had the sinking feeling that maybe he was beginning to have serious regrets. She contemplated going back to bed and trying to reawaken after William had dealt with things, but th
at would have been cowardly and she wasn't a coward. Or, not much of one, anyway.
No, she wasn't and it didn't matter if she'd just decided that a medieval kind of gal should have a medieval sense of courage. William was, literally, all she had in the world and she wasn't going to let something as stupid as his discomfort come between them.
"All right," she said, kneeling down next to him, "talk. I can't guess what you're thinking and I'm not going to try. If you have regrets, you'd better tell me now."
"Me?" he said, looking at her with an expression of surprise. "Rather you should have them, I'm thinking."
"Me?" she asked in much the same tone. "Why would I have regrets?"
He held up a sportswear catalog. "Look at this," he demanded. "Look at what you've given up for me."
"That?" she asked with a half laugh. "William, there's more to life than clothes."
He blinked, silently. Then he smiled a bit ruefully. "I suppose there is. But Julianna, these marvels—"
"Mean nothing if I had to trade you to have them," she finished. She smiled up at him. "I'm passing fond of you, you know. You're well worth trading my birthright for."
He kissed her and she was almost certain she felt the tension ease out of him.
"I feared," he whispered against her mouth, "that you would wake and regret having given yourself to me. Especially when I understood what you had given up."
She didn't want to tell him that he didn't understand the half of it, so she merely nodded and let him kiss the socks off her. If she'd had socks on, that was. Soon she didn't even have on a blanket, and she was just sure she soon wasn't going to be able to walk anymore.
"Will you read to me?" he asked much later as he snuggled happily next to her in bed with her Chaucer in his hands. "These stories are passing amusing."
She smiled at him and touched his cheek. "I could teach you to read them yourself."
"There is no use in it. The priest here at Artane tried to teach me, but without success. My father, on one of his rare visits to see if I lived still, said I was too feebleminded to manage the feat."
"Your father is an ass."
He smiled briefly. "Aye, I suppose so."