Servers offered trays laden with spiced oatcakes, figs, fruited puddings as well as nuts and assorted sweet cakes. More ale, wine and mead flowed from flagons to goblets all while minstrels and musicians filed into the room. They wove throughout the room between tables as their buoyant tunes frolicked through the air. Festivities had begun.
Yet again, Royce scrutinized Ahna’s lovely features. She appeared to have to force even the slightest smile in response to the others’ conversation. He counted the minutes before he thought it acceptable for him to rise. After noting for the second time within a few minutes Ahna’s glance to her left, then followed by her lips thinning and her frown increasing, he pushed away from the main table, stood, and stepped from the dais.
****
It did not take much to convince Ahna they don cloaks and take a walk up to the battlements for some fresh air. She seemed more than relieved to leave the great hall, whether due to his mother’s presence, to escape the cacophony within, or whatever had bothered her. He held his hand against her lower back as they ambled along the allure, content to simply touch her and have her by his side. Ahna stopped to lean against the parapet and lean through one of the crenels to peer below. He expected to see her typical reaction, so like an eager youngster when she beheld the beauty of sights and surroundings. Instead, she appeared full of gloom as she scanned the yard below.
“What troubles you, my sweet fletcher? Is it your worry for your mother, or something that upset you this evening?”
She pulled back and turned enough to face him. The pleasing smile she graced him with warmed his blood. He felt as if he could conquer the world at her reaction to his endearment.
“I promise you, by the morrow I will have located opium for you.” He caressed her cheek with his finger.
“Thank ye, I appreciate yer help and know ye will do yer best to find some,” she said with downcast eyes and another forced smile. Then, she gazed straight into his eyes. “Ye be right that something troubles me, and I donna ken how to tell what I saw.”
He read the concern, the sorrow she bore for what weighed her mind, and he longed to alleviate it. “Do not ever be afraid to tell me your troubled thoughts. Whatever it be, we can work together to solve it.” He stroked her cheek once more while he longed to hold her within his arms, yet knew he must allow her to shed whatever burden plagued her, first. He could be a patient man when needed. He hoped.
Glancing down, she bit her lower lip and worried it. He nearly disregarded his good intentions and ravished those delectable lips.
Her gaze again met his. “’Tis your cousin, Malcolm.”
Stymied, he stared at her. “What about Malcolm? Did he offend you?”
“Nae, but he…I saw him watching ye during sup and he…he stared at ye with such ill intent, I nearly screamed for ye to beware.”
For a moment, he knew not what to say or do. Then, he guffawed so hard he had to bend over to catch his breath. “My dear, sweet fletcher—or maybe I should say defender.” He straightened fully, and now chuckled. “First, if you are going to be one of my men at arms, the cry is Ware—not Beware. It carries better over wind and other din. And I have no idea why you would think Malcolm would cast me an evil look.”
She should have known better than to use the phrase “ill intent”. How dare he make light of her desire to protect him? But she had to make him understand. “I dinna think he cast an evil look, I saw it with me two eyes,” she spoke with determined conviction. “’Twas pure hatred and viciousness. ’Twas not something I dreamed up. Me blood nearly froze to see such maliciousness directed at ye after I saw how close ye two be. Ye needs watch him with a careful eye, Royce, please, promise me.”
Royce peered at her as if she had grown horns. His eyes were full of doubt, then smoldered, while he appeared at a loss for words.
He might desire her, she had seen it in his eyes, heard it in his voice, felt it in his gentle touches, but he dinna believe her—or in her. She had no’ been good enough for him before on several counts, and now she had added one more fault to her many flaws. At least, in his eyes.
Finding each other again, she had hoped and prayed ’twas meant to be. Now, she wondered if she had just sealed her fate. She had to try once more to convince him. ’Twas no’ possible to make it any worse.
“Might he be miffed over some recent disagreement? No, that canna be right. His glares were far too hateful. Mayhap he be jealous of ye, and hides it well. I thought he might want the Chalice, but ’tis not yours to keep, and he knows you take it to the bishop. Could—”
“Cease!” He looked as livid as his roar be loud. They stood silent as a light breeze nipped their cheeks.
“I know not why you would try to end the family bond, as well as the devoted and loving friendship between Malcolm and me. We are like brothers, would pledge our life to save the other. I cannot imagine for what purpose you would have to want to cause such rife. Actually, I do not care. Twice now, I have questioned the wisdom of my ways. But no more. I will see to the opium for your mother at first light on the morrow, then be sending you on your way. I want you gone before two days hence.” He hung his head in dejection.
What a child she had become to be wishing on the stars! She should have called the faeries to aid her, but even that would no’ have helped. Now, nothing would. No’ ever. She felt too numb to shed tears of sorrow for what she realized had been her last chance at ever believing they could be a couple. Of love shared for eternity.
“Come, I will see you to your room.” He followed behind her, silent, while his glare pierced like a heated lance.
“Be ready on the morrow after you break your fast.” He strode away, taking his anger with him, as well as her heart.
Chapter Eight
The next morning, Ahna went to the chapel to say prayers at Matins. After the church emptied, she sat on the back bench, knowing she should return to her room until she broke her fast, yet she found peace here. Her mind was blank, the numbing emptiness deep inside remained to prevent shedding tears. After Royce dispatched his four men to accompany her to Selkirk, she would likely never see him again. Her heart weighed so heavy her breathing labored. Her future looked bleak. How would she ever know if Royce remained safe?
“What ails you, my child? Can it be so bad?”
Ahna raised her eyes to the soft spoken priest, Father Thomas. “I fear I have hurt the one I love beyond measure, Father, and now he mayhap face great harm, and I canna help him. I have forsaken me mother during her last hours of need, I have disregarded me commitment to the abbey and the wee children there. And I have no idea what to do from here.”
His warm smile soothed her bruised soul, and she tried to return it, but failed.
“Is that all? Be that a confession or simply a list of all your woes? And so prettily put with such a delightful brogue, I must say,” he said with a light-hearted laugh. She mustered a fraction of a smile at his jest.
“Now, Ahna…” As her brows shot up, he nodded. “Aye, I know your name, lass, and some of who you be, but not nearly enough if I am to ask God to help you sort out such a mess. You must fill me in on the parts I be not privy to so I can do that.”
For the first time since sup, she started feeling to rights again. “I donna know where to start, but be ye part Scot? Ye have a wee bit of my tongue…and ye called me lass.”
“My mother be part Scot, so sometimes my tongue gets a bit confused, but I claim England as my land. As for where to start, I know you met Royce two years past when the fair and tournaments be down by Selkirk. His mother ’twas more than a bit upset by his taking a liking to ye, and made it known she be looking for a bride for Royce ever since. I know no more than that or why she found such fault with you. That be when Edward gave Dillyglen to Royce for his steadfast service as a knight, and shortly after, the earl had a stroke and became bedridden and unable to speak. Royce moved his family here.” He took a seat next to her. “It be your turn, if you need to talk.”
&nbs
p; “’Tis no’ verra complicated. Cold hard facts and no’ verra pretty. I fear there be nothing ye can do for me, Father, except mayhap ask God to forgive me for me many errors and sins.” Her attempted smile fell short.
“Let me be the judge of that. Go on, lass, tell me your tale.” He leaned against the wall, his hands on his Bible.
“Royce be English with a proud heritage, I be a baseborn Scot. Royce be a knight, holds Dillyglen, and be in line to an earldom. I be a lowly daughter of a mere merchant of salt, spices, and wares. Royce had money, honor, and integrity. Me father gambled, drank heavily, cheated his customers and business partners. Shortly after I met Royce, we lost our home to taxes, and had to move to a small cottage.” She stared at the floor.
“Yet, you and Sir Royce found love when and where you least expected it?”
“Aye, ye mayhap could say such, though his mother pointed out all my faults and flaws. He became caught between two worlds completely different, with people on each side having opposite expectations and standards. When me father sinned by taking his own life, leaving us nothing…the town, even those we called friends, shunned us. Royce made his decision and moved to Dillyglen. We be thrown out of our small cottage and…now we live in a small hut that…’tis an old stable.” She studied at the floor.
“How came you to be here now, my child? ’Tis true you tried to attack him.”
She flushed, and felt foul as a skunk. “Me mother lay dying of cancer and be in extreme pain…” She explained all to the priest as she had done with Royce, even telling him of her time at the abbey. He squirmed on the seat as if uncomfortable with her tale. “No’ to boast, Father, but I be a skilled archer and intended to only wound Royce, gain the Chalice, buy opium, and return to my mother. I since realized I could never have injured him.” She turned to face him. “May God forgive me for such horrible intentions, and now, for leaving my dear mother without me to offer needed aid.”
“What does Royce say now?” he asked, a frown increasing his deep facial lines.
Ahna again poured out the entire story of Royce’s regrets, Lady Rosemond’s investigation, the shaky but tender rekindling of their feelings, finishing with her accusations against Malcolm—and now, her being sent back a day early.
Father Thomas remained quiet for so long, Ahna sneaked a peek in his direction. He was praying with the rosary between his fingers. She remained quiet, hoping any of the good Father’s words might help her situation…that the Almighty might understand and grant forgiveness for her foolish, selfish acts. With a grieving heart for love lost once again, she felt as if she were floundering in waters much too deep and swift for her to swim.
When he made the sign of the cross and again leaned against the wall, she awaited whatever penance he might declare fit.
“Do you truly believe the hatred you saw in Malcolm’s eyes was indeed that malicious?” His face lacked expression, yet his anxiety was almost palpable.
“I do, Father. ’Twas most unsettling. I had never seen such a venomous glare.”
While he remained quiet as if contemplating, Ahna felt a need to request the good Father of a favor.
“Father, I know I have wronged Royce and me mother, but might I beg a favor?”
He took her hand in his and met her gaze. “Of course, my child.”
She held his gaze and simply asked, “After I break my fast, the men will escort me to Selkirk. Please promise me to make sure his back be guarded at all times after I have left.”
Chapter Nine
’Twasn’t long after dawn Royce obtained a fair amount of opium. He ached for the loss of what he had believed he and Ahna might have had together, yet he had promised to get the medicine—and Ahna’s poor mother had suffered enough, if Ahna told the truth.
Truth, huh! How could he have fallen in love with her not once, but twice? No, he had never stopped loving her; he had only gone through the motions of avoiding thinking about her. He had planned to retrieve her until his mother had disclosed her supposed marriage and child. Did Ahna tell truth or tale at this point? He had thought they had another chance. A bright future. Now, it lay in shambles in the dirt after her accusations about Malcolm. Women were fickle. They—
A knock sounded on the door. He marched across the room in a mounting huff, hauled the door opened ready to do harm if need be, and gaped at Father Thomas. His anger turned to dust.
“Good morrow, Father. ’Tis a surprise, indeed, for you to seek me out at my room. Is all well?” He fought to calm his nerves and be congenial. What in the holy hell does the man want so early in the morning?
“’Tis not known for sure. ’Tis why I come seeking consul with you, if you have a moment…or two.” The man remained calm and as pleasant as sunshine. Mayhap he himself should have pursued priesthood instead of knighthood.
“Of course, Father. Please, come in, have a seat, and I will pour us wine while we discuss the matter.” Royce took a step back, let the man enter, then closed the door.
Ross filled two goblets then joined him. “What can I do for you?”
“I noticed you be absent at Matins this morning.”
“Aye, I apologize, but I had an errand I needed taken care of and only I could see it through.” Royce felt like the man had just slapped his hand.
“And ’twould that be the venture to secure opium for one ailing lady in Selkirk?”
Royce scowled and the good Father laughed. “Don’t be scowling at me, you young pup. You may be master here, but I still be your senior, and when I see or hear something that be not right, I mean to help fix it. Did you get the opium needed?” he asked, taking a good hit of wine.
“Spoken like a true statesman. Do you work for the king?” They both chuckled. “And aye, I have it.”
The priest launched into discussing Ahna’s accusations regarding Malcolm to the fullest. When he explained his concern, since on several occasions he had witnessed Malcolm watching Royce like a hawk, Royce frowned, groaned, and fidgeted.
“Father, I appreciate your concern, but I hold not much merit in believing he means me harm. He has always seemed a bit slighted of me being a knight, and now the acting earl, but he and I are more brothers in truth. How do you know Ahna did not exaggerate or misread his looks?” Royce took a good swallow of wine to ease his throat’s sudden dryness.
“When I have observed Malcolm’s vision following your every move, I have never been in line to note his eyes, so I cannot say. But it be because of her words,” the priest answered with a sly look.
“And what did she say?” He leaned back and fingered his goblet.
“Not what she said, but what she asked. She asked for my promise to make sure your back be always covered.”
Royce paused with the goblet almost to his mouth, and then peered at the priest.
“Seems strange,” he went on, “that she be so concerned for someone who is kicking her out this morn with a not even a friendly goodbye, does it not?”
“I find it hard to believe, but I will be cautious. Is that what you want? Will that satisfy you…and her?” Royce asked, his frown hurting his forehead.
“Aye,” he said with a big grin, “and now, I would like permission to accompany your men to Selkirk to say the last rites for her mother, may God rest her soul…if she is still with us.”
“Surely they have a priest who can do the same.”
The priest shook his head. “Seems he travels from one town to burghs, castles, and yon and be not in Selkirk but very rarely. I understand the town nearly ostracized her and her mother after Ahna’s father took his life, and they fell on even harder times. They now live in a…what did she call it? Oh, no more than a hovel. An old stable.”
Father Thomas watched Royce blanch and nearly jumped for joy. The man obviously loves Ahna and does not know it, or will not admit it, even when it hits him between his eyes. If he could get these two youngsters together after all that had been placed in their way, he would have done his job and be a very happy man. Who kn
ew, there might be many baptisms in the near future. Of course…after the very proper wedding. A Christmastime wedding might be just what this dreary castle needed—and a Scottish lass, besides.
Chapter Ten
Having left the chapel, Ahna decided to break her fast then go to her room, freshen up, and await Royce. Nerves on edge for her imminent farewell, dread weighed her shoulders while her heavy heart wept at once again losing his love. Mayhap she never had it in the first place.
Not more than a handful of others were breaking their fast while several ladies and men just leaving nodded to her as they passed. She nodded back as servants cleared away trenchers and goblets, striding to and fro at a much more leisurely pace than at sup. She chose an empty table to the far right so she could admire the beautiful high-polished large harp nearby. It sat with a stool on a wooden platform.
She loved to play the harp, and enjoyed teaching others how to bring such soothing, sweet sounds to life, yet had never seen one quite this big. Her fingers itched to touch it, to pick the strings until they hummed and took her to another place.
A server carried a platter of an assortment of breads, cheeses, and cold meats while a page offered ale or mead. Ahna had just filled her trencher and thanked them when Emlaine scooted past them, grabbed a hunk of bread off a platter, then plunked down beside her with a big grin.
“Good morrow, Lady Ahna. I came back since I still be hungry. I saw you smiling at the harp. Do you play?” The girl, eyes round as saucers, said all that in one swooped breath and sidled up next to her on the bench.
Ahna swallowed the mead in her mouth and laughed. “Oh, aye. I love the harp. I also play the lute, but much prefer the harp. Do ye play? Emlaine, is it not?” The girl’s wavy hair hung to her waist, but its light brown color and her blue-gray eyes mirrored Royce’s. She was a beautiful child, and her bubbly personality made her more so.
One Winter Knight Page 27