Fathers and Sons: A Collection of Medieval Romances

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Christina nodded. “She will have seen sixteen years.”

  Maddoc’s dark eyebrows lifted. “God’s Blood,” he muttered. “I remember when the girl was born. She is that old?”

  “She is,” Christina replied. “Perhaps… perhaps my father will allow you attend the event as Adalind’s escort and not simply a family escort.”

  Maddoc’s blue eyes glimmered as a smile played on his lips. He realized he was nearly embarrassed by the suggestion, finding himself in a position he never dreamed he’d be in. The man was supremely confident in all areas but, now with the transition into an entirely new and different relationship with Adalind, he felt rather uncertain. This was all new territory to the serious and often austere knight who had never held a very high opinion of anything romantic.

  “I will ask his permission, of course,” he ventured hesitantly. “I have never… well, I have never done this sort of thing before.”

  Christina laughed at the usually-confident knight exhibiting some uncertainty. “You are not without experience with women,” she said. “Do not forget that I have known you for many years. I have seen women throw themselves at you and I do believe there were one or more occasions that you entertained a young lady.”

  He waved her off. “That was a long time ago,” he said, somewhat embarrassed. “Since my wife died, I have not had the time or inclination to pursue that aspect of life. It is too much trouble.”

  Christina’s smile faded. “I am sorry if my comment was hurtful. I did not mean to bring up painful memories.”

  He shrugged. “They are not painful, but I will admit that sometimes I wonder what my son would have looked like had he lived. My mother died in childbirth with me, also. I do not know if you were aware of that.”

  Christina shook her head with sadness. “I was not,” she murmured. “I pray you have much better luck with a future wife, especially if she is my daughter.”

  He gave her a lopsided grin. “Which I suspect might not occur if I do not throw myself at Addie’s feet and beg forgiveness.”

  Christina laughed again and gestured towards the door. “I have already chased Willow out, so Adalind is alone,” she said. “Go in and see what you can do. I will be here in the corridor should you need me.”

  It was a kind way of saying she would have her ear against the door to protect her daughter’s virtue. Maddoc grinned, full-on, and silently thanked the woman who was only three years older than he was. The truth was that he more than likely should have been interested in the woman closer to his age, but Christina had no interest in any man since her husband passed away several years earlier, and Maddoc frankly had no interest in her. All of his focus was on the woman’s exquisite daughter. He made his way to the chamber door and knocked softly.

  “Who comes?” Adalind’s voice was muffled.

  He didn’t hesitate. “Sir Maddoc FitzPeter Crewys du Bois.”

  There was a very long pause, causing Maddoc to turn and look questioningly at Christina. She balled a fist and shook it at him, a suggestion for what he should do. Biting off a grin, Maddoc rattled the door loudly without actually trying to open it.

  “Open this door right now,” he barked as he had never barked at her in his life. “You will not treat your intended this way. Open it, you ungrateful wench.”

  Christina had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing. Maddoc began silently laughing, too, until the chamber door flew open and Adalind was standing in the doorway. She was clad in a deep green surcoat with white rabbit lining around the neck and wrists of the garment. With her long hair braided carefully over one shoulder, she looked exquisite. However, she was furious and Maddoc struggled to wipe the smile from his face, but not fast enough. Adalind had seen the smirk and her eyebrows flew up in outrage.

  “So you mock me?” she was livid. “Since when do you call me wench?”

  Before Maddoc could reply, Christina stepped in to save the man. “Addie,” she scolded softly. “He was jesting with you, so calm yourself. You honestly have no earthly reason to be angry with him, so behave yourself. He will take you to Fordwich to collect your new garments for Victoria’s party.”

  Adalind was frowning as her gaze moved between her mother and Maddoc. As they watched, her pout grew more and more dramatic until she finally turned around in a huff and stomped back into her chamber. Both Christina and Maddoc stood in the doorway, watching her collect her fur-lined cloak with sharp gestures, until she stomped back over to the door.

  “Help me, please,” she nearly commanded as she held out the cloak to Maddoc.

  He dutifully took the cloak and shook it out before holding it up for her. Eyeing him, just to emphasize the fact that she wasn’t in a forgiving mood, Adalind stepped into the cloak as Maddoc settled it around her slender neck. She stood there, lips pursed in a pout, as he smoothed it around her shoulders and spun her around to tie it at her neck. But she refused to look at him, pretending disinterest, until he finished securing the cloak. When their eyes finally met, he gave her a knowing smile and she stuck her tongue out at him.

  Maddoc laughed as she turned away and began her angry march down the stairs, waving Christina off when the woman geared up to berate her daughter. He followed Adalind down to the main level, which was now rather vacant once the morning meal had finished, and took her out into the cool and breezy day. Outside, as they descended the steps to the bailey, he grabbed the first soldier he came across and sent the man on the run for Gerid. Once the organization of the escort party was in motion, he turned to Adalind.

  “I am sorry if you are upset with me,” he said quietly, “but you truly have no need to be. Eynsford is gone. You will not have to see him again.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Why did you bring him back? You know I did not want him here.”

  He was patient. “Because he had crawled on his knees all the way from Harbledown and I could not let him spend the night outside the gate with bloodied knees,” he said as his tone shifted to a nearly scolding one. “In spite of what you and everyone else thinks, I do have some measure of compassion. I did not bring him back to Canterbury to torment you; I did it because it was the right thing to do. The physic tended his wounds and, this morning, he was sent along his way. If you wish to remain angry over that, then I will not stop you. Do what you must.”

  By the time he was finished, her feisty stance had eased. The hands came off the hips and her expression softened. After a moment, she sighed heavily and gave up.

  “You know very well that I cannot be angry any longer,” she said, trying not to appear too contrite. “And I never said you were without compassion, only I wish it had not been for Eynsford.”

  He gave her a half-grin. “He is no threat to us, my lady.”

  She softened further. “Of course he is not,” she replied quietly. “Nothing can take my attention away from you. Surely you know that.”

  “Then you are no longer cross with me?”

  “No.”

  His smiled broadened. “Good,” he replied. “Now, what is this I hear that Victoria du Bose is sixteen years of age?”

  Adalind nodded eagerly, all fit and fizzle from a few moments before forgotten. “Her father is having a massive celebration for her in two days,” she said. “Everyone of note will be there. It will be good to see old friends I have not seen in years.”

  Maddoc cocked an eyebrow. “And I am sure the young men who only remember the skinny and annoying Adalind de Aston will be greatly surprised to see you. I will be beating them away by the dozens.”

  She giggled. “Not when Papa tells everyone that you are courting me. They shall all run away in terror at the thought of you.”

  He broke into a grin. “They will congratulate me on my good fortune,” he replied, noting that the horses were being brought forth from the livery. He took her elbow gently and turned her around as they approached. “Which brings me to the subject of our foray into town – I must approve of the dress you wear to the party, of course
.”

  She tried not to laugh at him. “Why is that?”

  He pretended to scowl. “Why do you think? I do not want some foolish pup salivating over what belongs to me.”

  She cocked her head, teasing him. “My, my,” she murmured. “Already I belong to you? Our courtship has worked rather quickly.”

  “I offered to marry you yesterday. Your grandfather has accepted my suit. Our courtship is over and, already, you belong to me.”

  She was back to giggling. “As you wish, Maddoc,” she relented, watching him wink at her. “But I am not sure I need your approval for my party dress.”

  His lips twisted wryly. “Not too much flesh,” he said. “I know what women wear these days. They show far too much skin. Perhaps I will have to put you in a sack and tie it at the neck, cutting out holes for your arms and legs. That way, I will not have to kill some fool because his gaze lingers on your lovely shoulders or… well, you know, lower… down below your neck.”

  Adalind burst out laughing. “Do you mean my breasts?”

  He averted his gaze, looking up to the cool blue sky. “It is lovely traveling weather, do you not think?” He deliberately changed the subject. “We should make good time into town. If we make short work of your task, perhaps we find something else to interest you. An entertainment, perhaps.”

  She moved closer to him, putting her hands on his big arm. “You will not get out of this so easily,” she said, flirtatious. When his eyes finally met hers, she grinned broadly. “You can refer to my breasts, you know. It is your right, as my intended. You can also look at them if you wish. I will not be offended.”

  He let out a hissing sigh and weakly tried to pull away. “Lady, you are bold and unrestrained,” he said, still trying to step away from her but not doing a very good job. The truth was that he liked her hands on his, feeling the warmth of her body against his. “It is unseemly to discuss such things in public.”

  “We are not in public. This conversation is between you and me.”

  “People can hear.”

  “Let them. We are betrothed, are we not?”

  He stopped pulling and eyed her. “We are.”

  She bit off a smile at his nearly embarrassed expression. “Then, at some point, you may actually want to see my breasts. Does this shock you?”

  He held out an even expression for a split second longer before breaking down into snorts of laughter. “You naughty wench,” he muttered. “I should spank you here and now.”

  She was laughing with him. “Are you telling me you do not want to see them? Maddoc, I am devastated. How can you say such cruel things to me?”

  He was still laughing as he grabbed her by the arms and pulled her up against his chest, his hot lips against her ear.

  “I never said I did not wish to see them,” he whispered. “In fact, I am looking forward to that more than you can know. But they are for my eyes only and I do not wish to share with anyone. That is why I must approve of what you wear; I am a selfish man and your beauty is for me alone.”

  Adalind was crushed up against him, feeling his hot mouth on her ear. His closeness, his maleness, seemed to suck all of the ability to breathe right out of her. Chills ran down her spine as he murmured against her flesh, so much so that she could hardly focus on what he was saying. All she knew was that the man ignited a fire deep within her belly, something scorching and liquid that she could hardly understand. When he let her go, suddenly, she nearly fell. Maddoc had to reach out to steady her.

  “Do you understand what I told you?” he asked, holding on to her arm as she regained her balance.

  She gazed up at him, all of the giggle and flirt vanished. All she could do was nod. “Aye,” she murmured. “I understand completely.”

  He grinned faintly and winked at her. “Good girl,” he said, then looked over her shoulder as her palfrey was brought close. “Come along, now. We have a trip to make.”

  Adalind didn’t say another word. His hot words and heated grip had sucked the flirt and conversation right out of her. She simply did as she was told.

  *

  The trip to collect Adalind’s new garments for Victoria du Bose’s celebration had been uneventful. Maddoc and eight men-at-arms had taken her into Fordwich to the seamstress who made all of the de Lohr women’s clothing. The woman had a rather large shop where she, her two daughters, and her sister made beautiful and quality garments. The moment Maddoc saw the gown they had fashioned for Adalind, he heartily approved.

  There were several pieces to the garment – a ruby red shift of silk that glimmered and shined, and then a surcoat that went over the top of it of ruby and gold brocade that had a plunging neckline edged with fox, and long bell-shaped sleeves that were also lined with fox. The bodice of the surcoat was stitched with gold thread and glistening pieces of red-colored glass that looked like jewels, and a ruched belt that made Adalind’s torso look slender and shapely. All in all, it was a magnificent garment, and Maddoc had no complaints.

  They took their time heading back to Canterbury, stopping at a vendor’s stall that was filled with cakes and other delicacies. Adalind had a bit of a sweet tooth, so he purchased cinnamon and currant buns for her, morsels she happily shared with him. They chatted about food, travel, and the weather. They spoke of his trip to France to visit his father and stepmother, and they spoke of his half-siblings who were growing up rather quickly and becoming young adults. They spoke of Maddoc’s hopes for the future and of what he would like to accomplish.

  It was a level of conversation they’d never had before, adult to adult, and Maddoc was becoming increasingly enamored with Adalind’s wit and intelligence. She was very funny, and very bright, and he liked that a great deal. Memories of that annoying young girl were long gone from his memory. The woman before him was something quite different.

  Full of sweet buns and bearing Adalind’s garment for the party, they headed back to Canterbury at a leisurely pace. Adalind seemed to be doing all of the talking as they traversed the two miles back to the castle and Maddoc listened with a grin on his face as she spoke of attending a feast at Berkhamstead Castle where the dogs ran mad through the feasting hall one evening, ripping up the careful display of food set forth by the baron’s wife and leaving a mess in their wake.

  It was a rather funny story and she told it very well. Maddoc was enjoying himself so much, in fact, that he didn’t notice a small group of men riding parallel to them on a road about a half-mile in the distance. It was a smaller road to Canterbury that cut in from the north, partially shrouded by trees and small hills, but a glint of armor finally caught Maddoc’s eye and his attention was diverted from Adalind in an instant. For a few tense moments, he watched the movement of the distant party before emitting a low whistle. The escort swung into action and four of them surrounded Adalind while Maddoc and the other four formed a protective barrier between the lady and the approaching party.

  It all happened very quickly, in a matter of seconds, and Adalind didn’t realize something was amiss until Maddoc placed his helm atop his head and unfastened the sheath that contained his broadsword. He wasn’t carrying his shield, but he was fully armed, and she grew very fearful as the distant group of men approached. The unfortunate thing was that from the angle of the roads, the unidentified party was now between them and Canterbury. Tension mounted.

  “Maddoc?” she called, apprehension in her tone. “What is happening? Who are those men?”

  Maddoc would not be diverted; he kept his eyes on the men in armor who were riding fairly swiftly in his direction. “I do not know,” he said evenly. “Stay where you are and do what I tell you.”

  Tears tightened her throat, tears of anxiety. “The castle is within view,” she said. “Perhaps we should ride very hard for it. We can outrun them.”

  “Stay where you are. Everything will be all right.”

  Adalind kept her mouth shut after that. He was in command mode, his manner confident and his voice authoritative. She would have to t
rust him. She was frightened for him more than herself; she didn’t want to see anything terrible befall him, not now when her future was opening up and he was the light at the end of the tunnel. So she sat upon her horse, holding on tightly, fearful of what was to come.

  The party riding towards them was odd in that there were only four of them; four heavily-armed and exceptionally large knights. There were no men-at-arms, no wagons, no support group. Just four knights. As they drew close on their massive, battle-hardened destriers, Maddoc charged forward to block them.

  “Come no further,” he bellowed. “Tell me your business and do not delay.”

  It was a booming, authoritative command. The four knights drew to a halt, horses snorting and pawing. When two of the knights helmed heads turned to look at one another, perhaps in confusion, Maddoc unsheathed his broadsword and held it aloft.

  “Your business now,” he commanded, “else you will not like my response.”

  Adalind was wrought with terror. She was close to jumping off her palfrey and begging for their lives. The thought of Maddoc speared through the heart in front of her made her feel faint and panicky. As she endeavored to plan a course of action that would save them, she heard a faint noise. It was odd, like a low and steady rumble, and confusion began to mix with her fear. She couldn’t tell what it was, or where it was coming from, until one of the four knights suddenly flipped up his visor. It took her a moment to realize that the man was laughing.

  “You are right, my friend,” he said. “I would not like your reaction. You could take out all four of us and not even raise a sweat.”

  Maddoc’s eyes widened and the broadsword nearly dropped to the ground. “De Wolfe?” he nearly gasped. “My God… William de Wolfe?”

  Sir William de Wolfe was having a great time at Maddoc’s expense. He backhanded the knight next to him in the chest. “It has been so long that he hardly recognizes me,” he said to the knight, who flipped up his visor as well. The other two did the same. “He is getting senile in his old age.”