She wasn’t ready to forgive him yet but softened out of necessity. They hadn’t much time. “I will tell you, but you must swear to me that you will not become angry with me.”
He grunted, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “I swear.”
Diamantha eyed him as if she did not believe him but dutifully continued. “Very well,” she said. “As I was saying, I fear I have placed a terrible burden on you by making you responsible for returning Robert to me for a proper burial. It was wrong of me to do that and since we are to be married, it is a burden you should not assume alone. I must assume it with you. Therefore, I will be riding with you to Falkirk to help you retrieve Robert’s body and I thought… well, as a show of good faith, I thought that we should be wed before we go.”
Cortez stared at her a moment, struggling not to openly react. “Before we go?”
She nodded. “We cannot travel together as an unmarried couple,” she said as if it was a terrible thing. “Therefore, we must marry out of necessity.”
She made it sound rather cold, but he didn’t care. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. “Before we go?” he said again, just to make sure he heard right. “Today?”
Diamantha nodded again, even before the words had completely left his mouth. “We can be married at St. Edward’s,” she said. “It is the church in the town. The priests will be happy to conduct the ceremony.”
Cortez wasn’t hard pressed to admit that he was stunned. This was something he had not expected to hear, not in the least. He tried not to sound too excited or enthusiastic about it, fearful that it might frighten or upset her. He didn’t want her to see the joy of victory in his eyes. Truthfully, all he could think of was marrying her quickly so she could never refuse or deny him again because it meant that once they were married, she would have to do what he said and he could tell her that she could not accompany him north. It was an outlandish idea, anyway. As her husband, he would demand she remain behind and she would be forced to obey. Or so he thought.
“When did you think to do this?” he asked, rather neutrally.
Diamantha fidgeted with her hands as if she wasn’t fully convinced her decision was sound. Still, she was determined.
“Now, I would think,” she said. “The priests are preparing for Matins, so I am sure they would not be opposed to performing the marriage mass afterwards. That way, we can be on our way this morning without too much delay.”
Cortez didn’t delay another second. He quickly tossed the rag aside and went about dressing in a heavy woolen tunic over the lighter one he already wore. “Very well, Lady Edlington,” he said, rushed, as he pulled the tunic over his head. “I accept your proposal. We shall be married immediately. Is there anything else you wished to speak to me about?”
Diamantha opened her mouth but was cut short as the tent flap suddenly snapped back and a tall young man entered. She stepped back, out of the lad’s way, as he fell to his knees next to Cortez and began collecting pieces of armor that had been stacked next to the cot. As Cortez’s squire went to work, interrupting a rather personal conversation, she frowned.
“Even if there were, I could not speak of it now,” she said, eyeing the big red-haired youth on the ground. “I will wait for you outside.”
Cortez held out a hand to her to prevent her from leaving. “Nay,” he said quickly. “Remain where you are. My squire will be finished in a moment and we can go together to the church. Please do not leave.”
Diamantha pulled her cloak more tightly about her in the chill of the tent but she said nothing, easing back into the shadows and watching the squire work quickly and efficiently. The lad couldn’t have been more than fifteen or sixteen years of age, with a crown of glorious red hair and very big hands, and when he stood up he was taller than Cortez. He moved like lightning, confident in the knowledge of his job. When he moved to collect the mail coat, which was strung over a frame that was behind Diamantha, she quickly moved out of the lad’s way to give him a wide berth.
Cortez was alternately watching her movements and his tasks as he dressed. She seemed very quiet now and he knew she was irritated with him. She’d had more to say but his squire had prevented it, which he was fairly certain was a good thing. All he wanted to do now was get the woman to the church and legally marry her. Then, whatever came after that would be dealt with, including her unreasonable demands. In all things, and especially this marriage, his wants would take precedence. In their brief association he could already see that she was a spoiled creature and used to getting her own way. It was a lesson she would have to quickly learn.
“I will introduce you to my men today, men who will be serving you,” he said, simply to make conversation so they weren’t hanging about in awkward silence. “I may as well start with my squire. Peter Summerlin is from a fine family in Norfolk. His father is Sir Alec Summerlin, who was known in his youth as The Legend. No finer swordsman has ever existed and his son seems to have taken after him. Although Peter is young, I expect to knight him myself next year.”
Diamantha looked at the big youth when the young man eyed her with some embarrassment. His cheeks were nearly as ruddy as his hair. He bowed swiftly to her even as he finished pulling the mail coat over Cortez’s head.
“He seems very efficient,” she commented, her attention returning to Cortez. “I have not seen any other de Bretagne knights since you have been here.”
Cortez lifted his arms as Peter began to secure his heavy leather scabbard, crafted in Rouen by a master tanner. The de Bretagne crest was emblazoned upon it, discreetly, a three-point shield with a bird of prey upon it, and the tip of the scabbard was protected by a riveted steel tip. Cortez glanced down at his beloved scabbard as Peter gave it a final adjustment.
“That is because they have remained in camp,” he told her. “I only brought two with me. The others are at Sherborne Castle, including my brother.”
Peter swept from the tent and they were alone again. Diamantha could hear the camp outside as men began to rouse and go about their tasks, but she found herself somewhat interested in her conversation with Cortez. She was still irritated with him for his attitude towards her concerns, that was true, but she could feel the mood of the conversation shifting to something casual and she was willing to go with it.
“I was not aware you had a brother,” she said. “Helene never mentioned him.”
Cortez strapped his purse onto his scabbard. “That is because my brother has been in the north, serving with my father,” he replied. “My father is the garrison commander at Sandal Castle for the Earl of Surrey, and Andres is two years younger than I am. He came to serve with me at Sherborne right after Helene died. My father sent him to tend me, I suspect, fearful of what I might do in my grief, but instead, Andres has given me something else to focus on because I am constantly having to bail the man out of trouble.”
Diamantha cocked her head. “Trouble?” she repeated. “What kind of trouble?”
Cortez fidgeted with the collar of his tunic where it chaffed him. “The man has an eye for women and a taste for alcohol, and the two do not often mix well,” he said before he could think about who he was speaking to. “In fact, there have been times when I have had to pull my brother out of the gutter and drown him in the nearest trough to… forgive me, but I probably should not be telling you this, should I?”
He appeared rather chagrined and Diamantha fought off a smile. “Probably not,” she said. “But tell me anyway. I would know what character of my new brother awaits me.”
Cortez could see that she was trying very hard not to smile and he grinned. “Andres is a good man and an excellent knight,” he told her firmly. “But there will be times that you may have to throw a bucket of water on him to revive him.”
“Or drown him.”
He laughed softly. “Truer words were never spoken,” he said, his gaze lingering on her and seeing a flicker of a lovely smile. It was glorious. “I would imagine that my brother will not be able to get awa
y with his usual foolery with you around. I suspect you would not tolerate it.”
“You would suspect correctly.”
His warm gaze lingered on her, hoping against hope that they were overcoming their turmoil and soon to embark on a new chapter in their association. Nay, relationship. He wanted more than an association with her. He wanted the same thing he’d had with Helene, a warm and gentle relationship that gave him comfort. He prayed Diamantha would see reason and understand that her role in his life would be one of thoughtfulness and obedience. With a faint sigh, perhaps one to summon his courage, he approached her.
“May I be honest with you, Lady Edlington?” he asked softly.
There was something in the expression on his face that made Diamantha feel weak in the knees. It was a warm and giddy sensation, something she had experienced with Robert back when they had been courting, but it wasn’t something she’d been familiar with much since that time. This was an incredibly electrifying sensation, as if invisible rivers were flowing from his dark eyes and enveloping her in their liquid exhilaration. It was enough to cause her some unsteadiness.
“Aye,” she replied after a moment.
His smile grew. “I realize that we have not had the most pleasant of associations up until now,” he said quietly. “I suppose I am to blame for some of that, but there is something I wish to say to you. Even though I promised Robert I would take care of you, please know that I do not view this marriage as an inconvenience. I view it as a new hope. Please know that I will do everything in my power to make you happy and comfortable and safe, and I swear that I shall be faithful only unto you. You will be my wife and my loyalty, both emotionally and physically, shall belong to you. I hope that you will treat it with respect.”
They were surprisingly deep words but Diamantha was torn by them. She and Robert had been exceedingly faithful to each other so she knew of no other way. She was glad to hear that Cortez, too, shared that view. Given the women in the past that she knew of who had thrown themselves at him, she was relieved by it. Still, it sounded to her as if he was perhaps asking for something more than that, something she wasn’t yet ready to give. It seemed to her that he was also asking for her affection. She found she couldn’t look into that hopeful, eager face.
“Of course I will,” she replied, averting her gaze. “You will have my loyalty as well, in all things. But… but this marriage is simply an agreement between us. It is something I am being told to do and I shall do it. When you speak of new hope, I do not know how to answer you. What is it that you hope for?”
Cortez had to remind himself yet again that she was still grieving. Her loss was so new; his was years old. Still, his impatience had the better of him. “I would hope for a pleasant marriage,” he said. “I would hope that someday you will cease to view me as a contract and begin viewing me as your husband. I would hope that someday we will grow to like each other, mayhap even enjoy one another. I would also hope that you shall bear me strong sons one day, sons we will both be proud of. I hope that one day you shall be able to refer to me as your husband and be pleased with the fact. These are the things I hope for, my lady. I do not believe they are too unreasonable.”
Diamantha lifted her eyes to look at him, seeing that the eagerness, so prevalent in his expression earlier, was now restrained because she was so reserved. She realized that he could sense her hesitation and was reacting accordingly. Everything was still so uncertain in her heart and mind, and she simply couldn’t bring herself to agree with him. Every time she closed her eyes or drew a breath, all she could see was Robert. It was like a stab to the gut.
“It is not unreasonable,” she said, feeling her composure slip, “but until my husband is located and until I have reconciled myself to the fact he is truly dead and in his grave, I cannot… I simply cannot….”
She trailed off, hanging her head and biting her lip to keep from weeping. Cortez watched her lowered head, feeling a tug at his heart. “You loved him,” he whispered.
It was a statement, not a question. Diamantha nodded firmly. “I did,” she murmured tightly. “I do. I still do.”
Cortez sighed faintly. “I know how you feel.”
Her head came up, the mesmerizing eyes swimming with tears. “You loved Helene?”
He nodded. “I did,” he said softly. “As you said, she was a sweet and gentle creature. There was much to love.”
Diamantha’s lower lip trembled and the tears spilled over. “How… how long before you did not wake up every morning with the pangs of grief twisting your stomach?”
His gaze lingered on her a moment before he moved, slowly, in her direction. “It took some time,” he said honestly. “But I can promise you that one day you will wake up and the pain will be less. Every day will see it diminish slightly until all that is left is a warm and bittersweet memory.”
She wiped furiously at her eyes. “I am not sure I want it to ever go away,” she said. “I do not want it taken from me. It is mine, a reminder of the love we shared.”
He came to within a foot or so, pausing as he studied her intently. “No one wants to take it from you, Lady Edlington, least of all me.”
Her head came up, her eyes accusing. “Aye, you do,” she said. “You have come to marry me and wipe the man from my memory.”
He shook his head. “I never said that,” he insisted softly. “I would never try to erase the man’s memory.”
Diamantha studied his sincere expression. “Your actions versus your words tell me differently,” she said, somewhat bitterly. “Tell me something, de Bretagne; if the situation were reversed and it was Helene dead only three months, how would you feel if someone had come to marry you so soon after your wife had died? How would you have felt?”
He locked gazes with her, feeling on the defensive with the question because he knew what his answer would be. But he could not lie to her; it was not in his nature. Furthermore, if he wished to establish a trusting relationship with her, it had to start somewhere. Let it start here.
“Three months after my wife’s death, I was barely able to function,” he said truthfully. “Therefore, I would not have been receptive to a marriage proposal. I more than likely would have run the messenger through.”
His honestly was gratifying. “I will not run you through, but you must understand that this is simply something I am not ready for,” she told him, her tears fading because the subject was growing seriously. She could see that Cortez was coming to understand her position completely. “I have heard you say that I am not ready but I do not think you truly believe it. I will still marry you this morning but you must give me time to come to terms with everything. You cannot force me into acceptance, de Bretagne. Much like you after the death of Helene, I am still very much grieving Robert’s loss. It is my right to be allowed to do so. Do you understand what I am saying?”
After a moment, he nodded faintly. “I do,” he confirmed. “I am sorry if you have felt forced into this situation before you were ready, but I know of no other way. You are to be my wife and I see no reason to wait.”
He only sees his wants, Diamantha thought. It occurred to her that whether or not he truly understood her position, what he wanted mattered more. But she could also see something else; it wasn’t that he was being selfish about it. It was simply the way his mind worked. His desires came before anything else. De Bretagne was a spoiled man. With a sigh, perhaps one of resignation, she turned away.
“As I said, I will marry you this morning,” she said. “As for the rest… you must be patient, sir. Anything else might result in something neither of us would like.”
He watched her as she moved away from him, putting space between them. “I will be as patient as is reasonably expected.”
Diamantha came to a halt and faced him. She sensed something stubborn in that statement and it was time to return the volley and establish lines. He had to know that she wasn’t going to let him push her around because it wasn’t in her nature to be pushed.
He believed every word she said, causing him to quickly re-think his strategy of marrying her and ordering her to remain behind. He had no doubt she would do what she said so he made the decision at that moment. Would it be worth a lifetime of a hate-filled marriage for him to force her to remain behind, a battle with no end, or would it be better for them all if he would simply allow her to go with him on his quest north? If he did, it would be a journey that could hopefully build trust and even the fondness he spoke of earlier. It would be something they could do together and therefore build together. As much as he didn’t want her along, he was coming to think it was the wiser choice, for certainly, the alternative was bleak. After several pensive moments, he finally nodded his head.
“Very well,” he said. “If you truly wish to accompany me, I will not stop you. But we will come to an agreement here and now. You will do everything I tell you. You will not argue with me and you will not disobey. If any of these terms are not met, I will leave you at the nearest castle and tell them to lock you in the vault until I return for you. Know that I do not threaten and I do not jest. I am as serious as death and twice as final. Is this in any way unclear?”
Diamantha only cared about the fact that he had agreed to let her go. She would have agreed to anything at that point. “It is perfectly clear.”
His gaze lingered on her. Something told him that it wasn’t as clear to her as it was to him. Time would tell. He broke away from her and moved to the small table beside his cot that held the water bowl. It also contained the pretty painted box with the silver collar inside, the one Diamantha had thrown so angrily onto the mattress earlier that evening. Picking it up, he opened the box and pulled forth the heavy silver necklace as he turned in her direction.
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