“Victoria slapped her first and I suppose Willow did not slap her as much as she punched her.”
“Punched her?”
“In the face. She said Victoria’s nose was bleeding.”
Maddoc couldn’t help the chuckles as he shook his head. “Great Gods,” he hissed. “No wonder she is hiding in the tent. I wondered why she was in there and not begging to attend the party.”
“Now you know.”
Maddoc couldn’t help the grin as he thought of Victoria slapping Willow in a huff and Willow, who was a fairly tall and rather solid girl, punching her in return. He would have liked to have seen it. Better entertainment than the mêlée as far as he was concerned. But he pushed past all of that, focusing on the enticement of escorting Adalind to a celebration where he could spend time enjoying her and, perhaps, even dancing with her. He hadn’t danced in years but he was willing to do it, just for the night. The allure of holding her in his arms was almost more than he could bear. He reached down and pulled the half-empty cup of wine out of her hand.
“Go now,” he said, gently grasping her arm and pulling her to stand. “Go and prepare for the celebration and tell your ruffian sister to do the same. I will escort you both.”
Adalind was still uncertain. “But what if she does not want to go?”
“Then tell her I will carry her into the hall if I have to.”
Adalind knew he would, too. As she thought on attending the celebration on Maddoc’s arm, a smile played on her lips. It brought back so many memories of events past where she could only watch him from afar. Tonight, she would not have to watch him. She would be with him.
“I can remember many celebrations or events in days gone by when you would escort my family,” she said. “I can remember specifically a celebration at Rochester Castle. It was for a Christmas feast, I believe, and I must have been nine or ten years of age. Do you remember that trip? It was snowing and very cold, but once we reached Rochester, the feast went on for three days. It was the last time I saw my father healthy, I think.”
Maddoc nodded as he recollected the event, thinking on quiet and scholarly Merric de Aston. He’d not thought of the man in years. Tall, blond, rather slender but physically strong, Merric had never enjoyed the best of health. He always had something wrong with him. The trip to Rochester in the snow had caused the man to develop a lung infection from which he had never recovered.
“I recall,” he said softly. “He passed away in the summer following that trip.”
Adalind thought on her father, a man she had loved a great deal, but the memories didn’t bring tears like they used to. Now, she remembered him warmly with bittersweet tidings. She smiled as she recollected the trip to Rochester.
“I remember watching him dance with my mother and thinking that I had never seen him dance before,” she said. “I remember watching you dance, too, and I was so terribly jealous of the young women in your arms. I remember them fighting over you.”
He chuckled, embarrassed. “I did not want to dance at all but your grandfather forced me to. He said I needed to be social. I hate dancing.”
She grinned. “Will you dance with me tonight, then?”
“You will have me all to yourself.”
“Promise?” she whispered hopefully.
His mirth faded, his eyes glimmering intensely at her. “I do,” he said softly. “You will have me all to yourself forever.”
“Are you still sure you want to marry me?”
“More than ever.”
“Tell me again.”
His smile returned and he went to her, wrapping his arms around her even though David had warned him about such displays. He couldn’t help it.
“I wish to marry you,” he murmured, kissing her tenderly on the forehead and feeling her tremble. “I was a fool to have resisted you for so long. How much longer must I continue to tell you the same thing over and over?”
“Until I no longer believe I am dreaming.”
“Do you still?”
She nodded, looking up at him with adulation in her eyes. She was wrapped up in his arms, her heart beating a mile a minute, thumping against her ribs. She finally let out a ragged sigh, dragging her index finger across his bottom lip.
“I am still having difficulty believing that my hopes and wishes have finally come true,” she murmured, watching him kiss her finger. “I swear I will be a good wife to you, Maddoc. I promise I will be gracious and kind and obedient, and I will love you the rest of my life as no woman has ever loved a man. I belong to you now as I have always belonged to you and I will worship you the only way I know how – with unbridled passion and enthusiasm and hope. I hope for so much for us, my handsome lad. So very much.”
He was warmed by her words, feeling her sincerity as if she had seared it into his heart. He pulled her tighter.
“I had no idea how fortunate I was until this very moment,” he whispered. “To have your love, Addie, fills me like nothing I have ever known. I had no idea what I was missing until you came back into my life and now that you are here, I want to live in this moment with you forever. I am not a man of great words but I can tell you what is in my heart, and my heart tells me that I am truly blessed. Thank you for being patient all of these years and for never giving up hope in a future for us. Your strength of faith is the most powerful thing I have ever witnessed.”
Deeply touched, Adalind laid her head against his chest, hearing his heart beating strong and steady in her ear. The feel of him, the warmth of him, was heavenly.
“You know you have my heart, Maddoc,” she said softly. “Perhaps someday I shall have yours.”
He chuckled softly. “What makes you think that you do not already?” he said, hugging her tightly. “As I said, words do not come easy for me and emotions are even more difficult. But know… know that my heart belongs to you. Can you not feel it?”
She lifted her head, gazing up at him, her eyes full of adoration. “I feel it,” she murmured, putting a hand on his chest. “And I hear it. I hear it strongly and steadily.”
Maddoc didn’t want to talk anymore; he only wanted to kiss her. Dipping his head, his mouth slanted hungrily over hers, feeling her respond ferociously. As the fire blazed a few feet away, Maddoc lost himself in the most powerful kiss he’d ever known, wishing he could simply take her to her tent, kick the sister out into the elements, and have his way with her.
His emotions were running wild and, as he suckled her lower lip, he began to realize there was no private place for them to go. If he didn’t remove himself from her this instance, he would be creating a spectacle for the gossips that seemed to be so fond of Adalind as a subject. He didn’t want to contribute to that misery for her, even if they were betrothed. But until the formal announcement was made, for all anyone knew, Adalind was simply letting him have his way with her. With a final and lingeringly sweet suckle, he let her go.
“Go now and prepare,” he said huskily. “I shall return for you and Willow in a short time.”
Breathless, Adalind nodded unsteadily as she licked her lips, tasting Maddoc. She was coming to crave that musky flavor.
“I will try and convince her,” she said, struggling to collect her wits as she turned for the tent several yards away. “I cannot promise success, but I will try.”
Maddoc watched her go, winking at her when she turned around to look at him again. She simply smiled, that beautiful smile he was coming to cherish. He’d seen the gesture his entire life but it meant more now to him than he could comprehend. When she eventually disappeared into the heavy canvas tent that housed her sister and mother as well, Maddoc went back to check on David before heading to his own shelter.
He was aware that he wanted to clean up and be presentable for Adalind. Perhaps he might even shave. As he dug out his clothing from his traveling satchel, he further realized that his thoughts were rolling quickly and all of them seemed to revolve around Adalind. He was excited for the evening at hand, thrilled to be spending it
with Adalind, and thought perhaps he might convince David to announce their betrothal that night. He was thinking many different things. Then he came to halt; Great Gods, he thought, I am giddy. Have I actually become what I have professed to hate? A man who would make a fool out of himself over a woman?
When Gerid entered the tent several minutes later, it was to Maddoc shaving and whistling a tune. Gerid had never heard Maddoc whistled like that. Given the fact that the man had on a clean tunic and was washing up, Gerid figured out what had the man so happy. He’d heard about men in love but he’d never seen one before. He suspected he was seeing one now.
When he ventured to tease Maddoc on the subject, Maddoc hit him in the chest so hard that Gerid fell backwards, hit the support post, and collapsed the entire tent.
*
It took Maddoc, Adalind, and Gerid to escort Willow to the great hall of Shadoxhurst where a loud and exciting party was taking place. Willow was literally dragging her feet, fearful of showing her face at Victoria’s celebration, but Maddoc assured her that their skirmish would be forgotten. Still, Willow wasn’t so inclined to charge on in to the party like a conquering hero. She tucked in behind Adalind as they entered the warm, smoky hall.
Adalind had her hand draped through Maddoc’s elbow, holding him tightly as they ventured into the room. It was an enormous place with a vaulted ceiling and great beams supporting the thatched roof. It was also an older style hall with the fire pit in the center of the room as smoke escaped upwards and exited through a hole in the ceiling. The giant fire made the room very warm, stinking of burnt meat and fresh rushes, and the room itself was stuffed with guests enjoying a feast.
A page escorted their little group to a table that was already full of guests. Maddoc cleared away space on the overcrowded bench for Adalind and Willow to sit, but he and Gerid remained standing because there simply wasn’t enough room. Along with the large dining table where Victoria and her family and a host of close friends sat, there were at least eight other hastily built tables to accommodate the guests, but there were more guests than tables, so many of the men were left standing.
This included Brighton de Royans. He had been in conversation with another knight near the fire pit but when he saw Maddoc and his party enter, he casually made his way in their direction.
His focus was on Adalind in a deep gold surcoat that displayed her ravishing curves, something he found he couldn’t keep his eyes off of. It was fashionable for women, especially courtly women, to be slender and rather flat-chested, as they used odd corsets that concealed their figures, but there was no corset in the world that could conceal Adalind’s luscious figure.
The woman looked like a goddess and as he approached the table where she sat with her tall, blond sister, he forced himself to look away lest du Bois take offense. Already, the man was on edge around him. Already, the lines were drawn between them and it was only going to get worse. Brighton had done a lot of thinking that afternoon about Lady Adalind, and he had done a lot of planning. It was time to put that plan into action.
“My lord,” he greeted Maddoc and Gerid first before bowing gallantly to the ladies. “My ladies, your beauty puts all other women in this room to shame.”
Willow perked up at the sight of Brighton. He was handsome and friendly. She had seen him at the field earlier after he and Maddoc had made peace, but she hadn’t thought to ask about him. She had been preoccupied with her conflict with Victoria. But now, she was quite appropriately focused on the handsome knight. As she blushed demurely, Adalind beamed.
“Again with your smooth tongue,” she said. “You are going to swell my head, Brighton. Now, I want you to sit down and tell me everything you know about your sister over the past few months.”
Brighton was wise to the protocol when dealing with Adalind; he’d learned well at their afternoon encounter. He looked at Maddoc.
“May I sit, my lord?” he asked.
Maddoc was standing directly behind Adalind, a great hulking and protective presence, and his gaze was most decidedly on Brighton. But he nodded graciously and Brighton shoved a male guest down the bench to clear a space, crashing the unfortunately guest into the woman next to him, who in turn plowed into another woman. All down the bench, people were shoved as a result of Brighton until the man at the far end slid right off onto the floor. Adalind and Willow burst into giggles as Brighton claimed his spot.
“Now,” Brighton said, claiming an ownerless cup of wine. “Who is this lovely woman beside you, Adalind? You must introduce us.”
Adalind grinned at her sister. “This is the Lady Willow de Aston, my sister,” she said. “Willow, this is Sir Brighton de Royans. His sister, Glennie, was my very best friend at Winchester Castle.”
Willow put on a good act of being properly modest and shy. She batted her eyelashes fittingly. “Sir Brighton,” she said sweetly. “It is an honor to meet you.”
Brighton flashed his dimples at her. “And you, my lady,” he replied. “I see that all of the de Aston women have astounding beauty.” As Willow giggled and averted her gaze, Brighton focused on Adalind. “In answer to your inquiries, the last I heard from my sister about a month ago. She sent word to me about a feast to be given in honor of her returning from Winchester and she wanted to know if I would be attending.”
“A feast?” Adalind repeated. “Will you be going?”
Brighton shook his head. “Netherghyll Castle is too far to the north and I have no time for such things,” he said. “Did Glennie tell you all about Netherghyll? We were both born there, you know, although I was already fostering by the time she was born. I was around ten years of age. In fact, Glennie and I have never spent more than a few weeks together in our lives. She is my baby sister but we did not grow up together, unfortunately.”
“That is sad,” Adalind said. “It is sad that you had to grow up without your family. I grew up with my sister and also with Sir Maddoc. I was around six years of age when we came to live with my grandfather at Canterbury Castle. My father’s home, Oakley Manor, was destroyed by fire and we had nowhere else to go, so we went to live at Canterbury. Maddoc was a young knight of twenty when I first met him. I remember telling my mother that I would marry him someday.”
Brighton’s grinning gaze moved between Adalind and Maddoc. “And how has your master plan worked out so far?”
Adalind laughed softly. “We are betrothed.”
“Formally?”
She shrugged. “Papa has not announced it yet, but he will. He has given Maddoc his consent to court me.”
Brighton’s gaze lingered on her a moment before shifting his focus to Maddoc. One could nearly feel his curiosity in the air; it bordered on a challenge. “Did you always know you would marry her, Sir Maddoc?” he asked, his tone not belying his thoughts. “Surely there were times when it crossed your mind.”
Maddoc’s intense gaze was riveted to him, watching him. It was scrutiny in its most penetrating form. After a moment, he looked away.
“I did not,” he replied, seeming to find interest in the rest of the room. “She would follow me around constantly and it was all I could do to get away from her. Things have changed considerably.”
Brighton’s focus lingered on Maddoc a moment before returning his attention to Adalind. “You are a fortunate man,” he said. “I envy you your good fortune. Perhaps I shall be so blessed one day.”
“Do you have anyone in mind?” Adalind wanted to know. “Is there a special lady somewhere that has your interest?”
He shrugged coyly. “I was going to plead for your hand but I see that Sir Maddoc has beaten me to it.”
She thought he was teasing her and she laughed. “It would not have done you any good if you had,” she said. “There has only been Maddoc in my heart as long as I can recall. However, my sister is not spoken for. Perhaps she would accept your suit.”
Willow blushed furiously, thrilled that her sister had suggested her to the handsome knight, but Brighton found himself in an awkwar
d situation that could go very bad very quickly if he didn’t handle it tactfully. The truth was that he hadn’t been jesting about offering for her hand and was testing the waters, so to speak, but her response had him rethinking his tactics. It was a dangerous game he was embarking on with du Bois around, but before he could reply, Maddoc interrupted.
“Come,” he said, pulling Adalind up from the bench. “Let us dance.”
Adalind looked up at him, surprised, as he practically hauled her to her feet. “But we have not yet eaten,” she said. “Are you not hungry?”
“Nay.”
He lifted her over the bench and took her hand, pulling her towards the big area to the west of the fire pit where guests were collecting for the next dance. Gerid, interested in the lovely women looking for dance partners, followed them and lost himself in the crowd. The hall didn’t have a second floor gallery so the minstrels, eight of them on different instruments, sat against the western wall with a leader that dressed much like a mummer in brightly colored silks. He played a flute of some kind and happily encouraged people to dance.
A rondelet was preparing, or a certain type of dance where dancers formed a circle and held hands until they broke into couples to complete the reel. Maddoc positioned her in the circle and took her hand as other dancers joined up and held hands as well. Maddoc scrutinized anyone of the male sex who tried to hold Adalind’s other hand, so much so that the man who ended up holding it switched places with his female partner so she ended up holding Adalind’s hand. All the while, Adalind was watching Maddoc very carefully.
“Why do you wish to dance?” she leaned in his direction.
He wouldn’t look at her. “Why not?”
“Because we only just arrived and have not eaten yet. I am hungry.”
He sighed heavily but still wouldn’t look at her. “Is it not enough that I wanted to dance with you? Must you know every reason why?”
Adalind wasn’t foolish. She suspected why. “You do not like Brighton, do you?”
“I could not know what you mean.”
Fathers and Sons: A Collection of Medieval Romances Page 47