Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, its age-old pain,
Its ancient tale of being apart or together.
CHAPTER FOUR
Adalind didn’t sleep very well that night. Whenever she closed her eyes, she had visions of Maddoc. Although the two of them had many conversations over the course of the years, they had never had a conversation like the one they’d had in the stables. The kind and polite knight she had known all these years had somehow turned warm and deep. It only made her love him more, now with a love borne from an adult woman’s heart and not a child’s. She fell in love with qualities she didn’t know he had. Her heart ached for him more than she could bear.
Consequently, she woke up exhausted and grumpy. Her sister tried to talk to her, as did her mother and grandmother, Emilie, but she didn’t want to speak of such things. She didn’t want to speak of Eynsford, or Maddoc, or anything else. She simply wanted to be left alone, which is what she told her mother and sister in a fit of angry tears, so they left her alone for the most part. They understood Adalind was dealing with a great many things and it was necessary to be patient with her. If, and when, she needed an ear to listen, they would be there for her.
After the nooning meal, the hall in the keep was silent for the most part as the occupants of the castle went about their business. The main level of the keep housed the hall, her grandmother and grandfather’s private chamber, along with a small receiving room for her grandmother and a solar for her grandfather. As far as keeps went, it was a very large one, and it was a fairly simple thing to gain some privacy.
Adalind sat in her grandmother’s receiving room working on an embroidery loom. She had started the piece yesterday, sketching out a scene of hummingbird and flowers with charcoal on the fine piece of linen. She was quite an accomplished artist, drawing and painting beautifully, and she was also very accomplished in her sewing. Her years of fostering had seen to that and, fortunately, she had a talent for it. It was an escape as well as a hobby, and she had been quietly doing her work since the early morning hours. Everyone had stayed clear of her as if she carried the plague.
David wasn’t unaware of the situation with his granddaughter. He had seen what had happened yesterday when she had exploded at du Lesseps, but he had wisely stayed away as her mother and sister and grandmother attempted to comfort her, only to be pushed away. Du Bois was the only one who seemed to be able to communicate with her and, not surprisingly, ease her, which was causing David to closely watch the interaction between the two. Adalind was fragile and he didn’t want Maddoc’s well-meaning attempts to give the girl false hope.
David had been in his solar since early morning as well, having received word from his brother, the powerful Earl of Hereford and Worcester, that one of their allies along the Welsh Marches was being harried by a Welsh prince who was gaining some momentum. Christopher de Lohr had stopped short of asking his brother for immediate assistance, but he had put him on notice. Canterbury carried almost a thousand men and David was sure his brother would request three-quarters of that number.
He was, therefore, studying a map of the area in question, a beautiful piece of cartography etched upon an enormous piece of yellowed vellum. He had the entire country on various pieces of vellum in his solar, for he and his brother had done their fair share of troop movement and maps of this sort were necessary. The maps were old and well-used, pieces of art as much as they were maps. This particular map had been passed down from David’s father, Myles. But as time went by and thoughts of Adalind caused him to lose his concentration, he set aside his quill and casually wandered over to his wife’s receiving room.
Sunlight was streaming in through the big arched window on the north side of the room. Dressed in a soft yellow surcoat and looking radiant and lovely, Adalind sat before her loom, patiently piercing the material as she wove her tapestry. When she caught movement out of the corner of her eye, she glanced up without lifting her head to see her grandfather standing in the doorway. She smiled faintly.
“Greetings, Papa,” she said. “I thought you were busy with the fate of England today.”
He smiled weakly as he entered the room. “I was,” he said. “But I thought I would come and visit you for a few moments. I’ve not seen you all day.”
“That is because I have been busy,” she said, refocusing on the loom. “If I plan to give this piece to Uncle Christopher and Aunt Dustin by Christmas, then I must be diligent.”
“Christmas is several months away.”
“I know, but this is an ambitious piece. It will take time.”
David moved into the room, looking over her shoulder at what she was working on before moving to the window and gazing outside. The sky was clear and blue with a hint of a cool breeze. He inhaled deeply.
“Your Uncle Daniel should be here in the next few days,” he said, glancing over at her. “It has been a long time since you last saw him, hasn’t it?”
Adalind stabbed the material with colored thread. “I saw him almost a year ago when he came to visit me at court,” she said. “He stayed for a few days and we had a wonderful time. Papa, why has he not married yet? He would make some woman a wonderful husband.”
David lifted an eyebrow as he turned from the window. “Your Uncle Daniel is in no hurry to marry,” he said. “Although I wish he was. I would see at least one son from him to carry on the de Lohr name before I die.”
“Perhaps you should find him a wife.”
“Perhaps,” he said, eyeing her. “Did you have anyone in mind? Perhaps a lady you knew at court?”
She shook her head. “I would not burden him with any of those women,” she said, but then she looked thoughtful and stopped sewing. “I did have one friend, however, that could very well be a suitable match. She was from the de Royans family, far to the north in Yorkshire. She had a brother I met a few times, a very powerful knight who, I believe, served Norfolk. In any case, she was one of my few friends in Winchester. She is a pretty and obedient girl. Perhaps she would be a good match for Uncle Daniel.”
David put his hands on her shoulders. “Did you at least introduce them when Daniel came to visit?”
She shook her head. “I did not,” she replied. “I did not think to.”
“What is her name?”
“Glennie de Royans,” she replied. “Her father is the Constable of Yorkshire.”
David rather liked the sound of that. “Perhaps I shall consider her,” he said, kissing the top of her head before removing his hands from her shoulders. “As for you, my fine lady, what are your plans now that you have come home? We have not discussed the subject, you know. Are you planning on leaving us again? Perhaps you would like to travel?”
Her good mood was fading rapidly. “I do not wish to travel,” she said as her movements came to a complete halt. She was gazing at her loom. “Papa, I was thinking… thinking that perhaps I should consider joining the cloister. I know that you would suppose that to be a foolish decision, but I do not. I do not believe I shall ever marry. So rather than become a burden, I would like to dedicate my life to something productive and meaningful.”
David gazed at her lowered head. “The cloister?” he repeated, somewhat surprised. “This is the first time I have heard you express interest in such a thing.”
Adalind hung her head. “I realize that, but I do believe it is something to consider.”
“Why?”
“I told you – because I shall not marry.”
David scratched his head as he thought on his reply. “I do not believe that to be the case,” he said quietly. “You are still young, Addie, and you are very beautiful. You have an entire world of suitors at your feet. Of course you shall marry.”
She shook her head. “There is only one man I would consider and he has made it clear that he has no interest in me,” she murmured. “I know you think I am foolish, Papa, but believe me when I tell you that I know my own heart. I always have. The richest and most eligible man in all of England co
uld come to my door and still, I would refuse him. The heart wants what the heart wants, and I could never be married to another man if I loved someone else.”
David pondered that for a moment. The he sighed. “Addie, I know you have always been infatuated with Maddoc. But now that you are grown, surely you see that it is not meant to be.”
“Why not?”
He looked at her, rather painfully. “Do you truly want me to speak of it?”
“I do.”
“He has watched you grow up. You are like family to him.”
“But I am not family,” she said passionately. “Papa, I have spent my entire life loving one man and now that I am a grown woman, those feelings have only gotten stronger. For the rest of my life, there will only be Maddoc in my heart and soul. If I cannot have him, then I do not want anyone else. It would only make me miserable forever. Do you not understand that?”
David gazed into her lovely face, his heart hurting for her. He knew how she felt and he was sure the reintroduction to Maddoc yesterday had only exacerbated those feelings. After a moment, he reached out and stroked her cheek.
“I understand,” he said quietly, “but let us not make any hasty decisions today. You only just returned home; be patient until year’s end and if you still feel the same way at that time, then we will make some decisions. I only want you to be happy, Addie. You know that.”
“I know, Papa.”
“There could still be someone to win your heart, you know.”
“They could not win what does not belong to me.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You are going to make it difficult on your sister and your cousins, then,” he said. “You are the oldest. You must be spoken for before they can entertain invitations. Willow is already eyeing the men around her.”
“When I enter the cloister, she will be free to entertain all the suitors she wishes.”
David shook his head, rather resistant to her reasoning, and opened his mouth to say so. But a voice from the doorway interrupted him.
“My lord,” Maddoc said. “We have a visitor.”
Both Adalind and David turned to Maddoc. He was dressed as he usually was, in mail and leather, looking as if he were a hairsbreadth away from going into battle. David focused on his face as Adalind let her gaze drift over his enormous body, muscular arms, and trencher-sized hands.
Hands that would never touch her in love and muscular arms that would never hold her as a man holds a woman. She began to think on their conversation from yesterday, of her dreams of him the night before, and she was both eased by the sight of him and hardened. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take of seeing him daily, knowing there could never be anything between them. It would drive her to the convent sooner than expected. Maybe returning home had been a mistake, bringing her back into Maddoc’s orbit where she would be more miserable than she ever was. She was deep into those reflections when David spoke, jolting her from her thoughts.
“Who has come?” he asked.
Maddoc lifted a dark eyebrow. “Walter de Burgh,” he said, somewhat quietly. “He is brother to Hubert de Burgh. In fact, I…”
“No!” Adalind suddenly bolted up from her seat, her green eyes blazing. “Not him. He is not welcome. Send him away, Maddoc.”
“Hold!” David put up a quelling hand, looking at his granddaughter with curiosity. “Why would you say that, Addie? Do you know him?”
Adalind’s frustration was evident; she was red in the cheeks and as both men watched, she angrily stomped her feet, verging on a tantrum.
“Of course I know him,” she said, furious. “He has pursued me relentlessly for almost six months. He is a shriveled old man who thinks that his family name will gain him his wants. Papa, he is older than you are!”
David eyed Maddoc before focusing on his granddaughter. “I know the man,” he assured her quietly. “What’s more, I do not like him. He is a dimwitted brother of a powerful family. Are you sure he is here for you?”
Adalind threw up her arms in frustration. “Why else would he come?” she wanted to know. “Were you, in fact, expecting him?”
“I was not.”
“Then it surely stands to reason he has come to see me.”
“Perhaps there is another reason, I would hope. If the man has, indeed, come to see you, then I will personally toss him out on his arse.” He stood there and shook his head as if baffled by the entire circumstance. “Is this how it is going to be from now on, Addie? A new suitor every day that I must throw from the keep?”
Her anger turned to a pout and, genuinely frustrated, she plopped down on her chair, struggling not to cry. When she lost the battle and began to weep softly, David went to her and kissed her on the head.
“I am sorry,” he said, giving her a gentle hug. “I did not mean to make you cry. But this is going to become exhausting for us both.”
The statement did not ease her tears. She wiped at her eyes. “I did not tell these men to come,” she said, frustrated. “It is not as if I extended an open invitation for any fool to bid for my hand. I never gave any of them any encouragement but, from appearances, it would seem that I have. They made my life at court a nightmare and now they have followed me here. All I want is a measure of peace, Papa, please.”
“You told the first three suitors that you are already betrothed,” Maddoc said from the doorway. His voice was low, quiet. “We will simply tell anyone else who comes to Canterbury with the intention of courting you that you are already spoken for.”
“They will want to know to whom and, at some point, a wedding would be expected,” David said as he turned to Maddoc. “Word tends to travel and I do not want to jeopardize Addie’s chances of obtaining a true husband with lies to throw off the rabble.”
Maddoc’s expression didn’t change. “It would not be a lie, my lord, if you consented to a betrothal between Adalind and me. I will marry her if she will have me.”
David’s jaw dropped. Adalind’s tears were instantly forgotten and her head shot up, looking at Maddoc with such astonishment that her jaw, too, fell open. Stunned speechless, Adalind tried to rise from her chair but her knees gave out and she ended up toppling onto her bum. Maddoc rushed forward to help her as David stood there like an idiot.
“You what?” he managed to stammer. “Maddoc, are you serious?”
Maddoc had hold of Adalind’s arms, gently pulling her up from the floor. “I am,” he said steadily. “Moreover, she proposed marriage to me some years ago. I have made up my mind to accept her proposal. I apologize for the delay.”
Adalind was staring at him as if she could hardly comprehend what he was saying. By the time he set her to her feet, she began to laugh, like a woman losing her mind. But just as quickly, she shifted to tears and began to weep. She pulled out of Maddoc’s grip and knocked over her loom in her attempt to get away from him. Hysterical, she ended up slumping against the wall near the hearth.
“You… you are horrid,” she sobbed. “How can you joke about something like this?”
“I am most certainly not joking.”
“You are!”
“Addie, I swear that I am not. I have never been more serious about anything in my life.”
That statement only caused her eyes to widen, as if he had just said something terribly offensive. Then she pointed an accusing finger at him.
“You are not serious,” she wept. “It is only out of pity that you say such things. That is all this is to you, Maddoc – pity. You cannot even suggest such a thing. I hate you for it!”
Maddoc felt rather bad that he had upset her so. His offer hadn’t been planned. In fact, it had come out of his mouth before he could think about what he was saying. But upon reflection, he wasn’t sorry at all. The past two days with Adalind had opened an entirely new world for him, one of a beautiful young woman with intelligence and grace that he was deeply attracted to. He could no longer deny it.
He didn’t know if he loved her because he’d never truly loved a
nyone in his life, at least in the romantic sense. All he knew was that the feelings he was developing for her were consuming him and he couldn’t stomach the thought of her with someone else or, worse, sealed up in a convent. He wasn’t sure he could explain all of it to her but he was willing to give it a try. He didn’t have a choice; he’d opened wide the door and now was the time to step in.
“Addie, I want you to listen to me and listen closely,” he said in a deep, quiet tone. “I do not do anything out of pity. It is a weakness and I am not weak. When I saw you for the first time after having not seen you in many years, I felt I was introduced to someone I’d never before known. All I could see was a beautiful and brilliant woman with kindness and fire and intelligence. I can also see why three, now four men in two days have come vying for your hand. You are truly an astonishing example of womanhood and you would be a wife a man could be proud of. I would be proud, Addie. But if you no longer feel as you did those years ago, I understand. You were a child then with a child’s dreams. Perhaps you have outgrown me, but I hope not. I could never forgive myself if I did not ask if you see anything within me that you still find attractive.”
Not only was David’s mouth still hanging open, but now his eyebrows were lifted and his eyes were bugged. He stared at Maddoc as if the man had grown two heads, but Maddoc only had eyes for Adalind. When David looked at his granddaughter, he could see that nothing else in the world existed, either. Maddoc had all of her attention.
“I… I do not know if I can believe my ears,” she said, tears fading as she labored to regain her composure. “This… this cannot be real.”
“It is real.”
“I am not dreaming?”
“Nay.”
She just stared at him, stunned, before wiping away the last of her tears. “Do you swear, Maddoc?”
“I swear.”
“You are not jesting?”
Fathers and Sons: A Collection of Medieval Romances Page 38