Lord of Legend

by Charlene Cross

  Jason leapt from the dais, and Felicia stepped forward. “If happiness eludes you,” she said, her attention centered on Aleck, “you know where to find me.”

  It was Chandra’s turn to stiffen. The woman was certainly brazen. Because of what she and Aleck had shared, apparently the Lady Emory felt no compunction over speaking most frankly to her former lover, his new bride’s sensibilities be damned. The couple strolled off toward the rear of the hall, and Chandra heard Aleck’s soft curse. Whom it condemned, she couldn’t say, but she doubted it was the Lady Emory. Ignoring him, she opened her hand. “’Tis beautiful,” she said, inspecting the pendant. “Was it really your grandmother’s?”

  “Aye, the pendant was hers.”

  “I would have thought he’d give it to his own bride,” she said, fingering the emeralds.

  “Normally one would think that. But it is hard to predict what Jason will do. His giving it to you does not surprise me.”

  “Why are the two of you so unfriendly toward one another. Did you argue?”

  “’Tis a family matter, Chandra. Someday I will explain why we are at odds, but today I’d rather not be reminded of our troubles. Do not press me on it.”

  “As you wish,” she said, gazing again at the pendant. “Would you object if I wore it?”

  “’Tis yours. You can do with it as you like.”

  Aleck’s tone was exceedingly cool, but Chandra nonetheless slipped the chain over her head. Other than holding it all through the banquet, she had no place to put it. The pendant settled at the cleft of her breasts, which were again pressed painfully against her chest. She’d be glad to be free of her borrowed gown, another of Anne’s castoffs, Chandra thought—then swiftly changed her mind. For when she was at last unclothed, she’d be in the bridal chamber, Aleck alongside her. Chandra’s nerves quivered. She dreaded the moment when she’d truly give herself to him. Slut! The word rang through her head, assaulting her, for again she’d thought of her clan. No longer certain where her allegiance lay, Chandra felt her spirits sink. Why, she wondered, foundering in her misery, had this happened to her?

  A trumpet heralded James’s arrival, drawing Chandra’s attention. After he’d settled into his place, and the courtiers had offered their reverence, Chandra and Aleck included, the merrymaking commenced. First was the feast. A line of servants marched from the rear kitchens, each carrying a large tray of succulently roasted meats upon his shoulder. Soon the fare lined the tables. Rich sauces, a variety of fruits and vegetables, cheeses and breads followed. Wine flowed freely all through the meal, and for some time thereafter. If Aleck worried there wouldn’t be enough to feed all those in attendance, he needn’t have. Everyone ate to repletion and then some.

  Next, a bridal masque was performed, followed by musicians and jugglers. Absorbed in the variety of amusements, which seemed to comport themselves all throughout the huge room, Chandra momentarily forgot her cares.

  Aleck noted the high color in her cheeks; a bright sparkle lit her eyes. He knew she’d eaten little and imbibed too much, and he wondered if she was actually drunk. Her cup came away from the table once more, its silver rim aimed at her lips. “Enough, sweet,” he said, catching her wrist before she could take another sip of wine. Spying her frown, Aleck chuckled. “Climbing into your cups won’t save you from what awaits you. Come. Our guests seem eager for us to begin the dancing.”

  Wresting the cup from her fingers and placing it on the table, Aleck took her hand and urged her from her chair, whereupon he led her out into the dawdling crowd and released her. At his signal, music filled the hall. Quickly the guests gathered round, waiting for the bride and groom to lead them into the first steps of the la volta.

  “Milady,” he said, bowing; then he offered his hand. “I would be pleased if you were to do me the honor.”

  “I cannot,” she said, shaking her head. “I know none of your dances.”

  “Then you shall learn.”

  Chandra had no time to object, Aleck having guided her into the center of the floor. As she tried to follow his steps, the guests joined them. All danced expertly—all except Chandra. Somehow she managed the several turns, though not gracefully. Then she felt the press of Aleck’s left thigh; his left hand met her midriff and she was hefted into the air. Chandra landed on her feet, but her leap could be considered nothing more than inelegant.

  “You did well,” Aleck commended with a smile.

  “By whose standards?” she countered, and heard his deep laughter reverberate in her ears. “’Tis not funny,” she scolded, again trying to follow his lead. “Laugh at me again, and I shall leave you standing here alone.”

  Merriment twinkled in his eyes as he bit back a grin. “I shall be most attentive to remaining somber.” He turned her again. “La volta was our late queen’s favorite dance. Then, as now, ’twas often performed at court.”

  “’Tis probably what finally killed her,” Chandra returned, knowing the leap was just ahead. When it came she executed her second jump with more grace than her first, but she still felt awkward and ungainly. Her gown and farthingale didn’t help matters either. It was a mystery to her why these women allowed themselves to be trussed up in such cumbersome raiment. Comfort, it seemed, easily gave way to style. At least, with the courtiers it did. While Chandra remained at court, she too would be constrained by their practice of dress. Eager to be away from all this pomp and to again wear her tunic and simple wool skirt, she asked, “How soon might we leave here?”

  Aleck studied her. “I‘m surprised you’re so anxious to desert our guests. But if that is what you truly wish, our bedchamber is ready and waiting.”

  A fiery blush touched Chandra’s cheeks. “’Tis not what I was asking.”

  “But it is my response,” he said, smiling down at her. “Tonight, sweet, we go no farther than our room.”

  The two had stopped dancing. Chandra stared up at her husband, wishing she could say his words held no appeal, but she couldn’t. Perhaps it was the wine, or possibly the festive mood of the crowd surrounding them, or maybe it was simply Aleck himself, but as he gazed down at her, an excited feeling trembled through her. It left her nearly breathless.

  “What is it, Chandra?” Aleck asked, for she seemed to have fallen into a trance.

  Chandra blinked, but just as she was about to respond, a group of men dashed from seemingly nowhere. With much jostling, they surrounded Chandra, separating her from Aleck. He watched as his wife was swept away by the merry bunch to the opposite end of the hall. One man bowed and presented his hand, and Aleck assumed he’d requested that Chandra join him in the dance. She looked Aleck’s way, then appeared to agree, for the two fell in with those courtiers who hopped and twirled around the floor.

  “She’s deserted you already, I see,” Felicia said from behind him. Aleck turned to her, and Felicia offered him a provocative smile. “Since you’ve lost your partner, perhaps you are eager to seek another.”

  “My preference, Felicia, is simply to watch. So, if you’ll excuse me, I shall take my leave.”

  With a nod, Aleck left Felicia to her own companionship; then, finding a quiet spot, he attended the movement of his young bride, ready to intervene should the revelers who’d stolen her from his side become unruly. The music concluded, and the dancers milled, awaiting another tune. A cup was shoved into Chandra’s hands, and she quaffed the sweet liquid. Aleck shoved his shoulder away from the column where it rested, intending to take charge of the situation before she became fully inebriated. But the musicians struck up another measure, its sprightly melody announcing the couranto.

  Aleck relaxed when the cup in Chandra’s hands was set aside. His shoulder planted against the column again, he watched as the young man who hoped to be her partner explained the dance’s introduction. Three men led the ladies they’d chosen to one end of the room, then retreated. Upon their return, each asked his fair maid to join him. As expected, she presented her back to him, refusing. Going down on his knees, the man be
gged for her hand. Of course, after much cajoling, the woman relented, accepting his invitation. The couple then proceeded to the floor.

  Aleck’s bride seemed eager to try this new dance. After the young man had shown Chandra the light springy steps, Chandra learning them quickly, he led her to the spot where in a few moments he intended to retrieve her. He retreated. High color marked her cheeks. She appeared to be enjoying herself, so Aleck decided not to play the interloper. There would be time enough to regain his bride so that they might share another dance. Right now, he’d allow her her own recreation. His would definitely come later.

  Suddenly Aleck stiffened, his gaze centering on the newcomer who’d settled on one knee, pleading for Chandra’s hand. The bastard, Aleck thought, eyeing his cousin closely. When Chandra had finished playing the coy damsel, finally relenting and accepting Jason’s invitation to dance, Aleck came away from the column. While the pair moved onto the floor, joining the other couples, he strode to another corner of the hall, where he waited.

  Chandra followed Jason’s lead, wondering if her husband watched them. When she’d been swept from his side, she had been most relieved. Caught under his mesmerizing gaze, his fabulous blue eyes holding her spellbound, she couldn’t fathom what was happening to her. Her emotions had spun out of control. All her senses were attuned to him, and whatever he desired, she would give willingly.

  The feeling confused and frightened her, for she’d always governed her senses completely. No one had ever had the power to sway her, until now. His command of her had stunned her, and Chandra was thankful for the interruption. She could only imagine what might have happened if she’d not been spirited away to the opposite end of the room. There she’d thrown herself into the merrymaking, trying to calm her nerves; but now, with Aleck’s cousin as her partner, she feared she’d gone too far.

  “I see you wear my gift,” Jason said, his hand holding hers. They faced each other as they performed the quick hopping steps of the couranto. “I’d have thought my cousin would order you to keep it from sight.”

  “He said it was mine to do with as I pleased,” she said, then studied him closely. “Why are you so hostile to each other? You are, I presume, his only family.”

  “Aye, I am.”

  “Well?”

  “’Tis best if your husband tells you what keeps us at odds.” He spied her disappointed look. “An exchange, then,” he said. “My story for yours.” She seemed puzzled. “In the garden, you said too much stood between my cousin and you. I assume whatever it is has to do with why you’ve draped yourself in mourning. True?”

  “’Tis true.”

  “Then it is my story for yours or none at all.”

  “Agreed,” Chandra said, then allowed herself to be led to a quiet corner.

  Making certain they stood in full view, for he was sure his cousin watched them, Jason relayed his and Aleck’s story. “Our fathers were twins, though not identical, Aleck’s father being firstborn. All through life, they were most competitive, as were Aleck and I in our youth. None of us got along. It was always one set of Hawkes against the other. I never did fully understand why.

  “When Aleck and I were still quite young—he eight, I six—our grandfather died. All at Montbourne was given to Aleck’s father. Then, upon our grandmother’s death, six summers later, an old nurse came forth, stating it wasn’t Aleck’s father who came into the world first, but mine. Only a few months prior to that event, we had moved to the old castle, my father having squandered all his funds. He was most eager to follow through on those words, for he had always wanted the title and the lands that belonged to the heir. Of course, there was also the money. He petitioned our queen, presenting his lone witness, but Elizabeth denied his request, for the old nurse was obviously senile. The rejection didn’t sit well, but we remained at Montbourne. My uncle was our only source of income.

  “My father always enjoyed his ale and wine, but he began to drink. Quite heavily, in fact. One brutal winter’s night several years later, he managed to draw Aleck’s father into a fight. Swords were their weapons. My uncle suffered a fatal wound.” Jason paused briefly and looked at his hands. “’Tis said Aleck’s father had defeated my own fairly, leaving him with no more than a nick on his arm. When my uncle turned his back, my father charged. The sword went straight through the man. Realizing what he’d done, my father fled the castle, out into the night. He was found the next day, frozen to death.”

  “Are you saying Aleck blames you for his father’s death?”

  Jason shrugged. “Sins of the father, I guess. But I didn’t make it easy for him, either. My father was flawed, but I still loved him. I also had lost a parent and hurt equally as much as Aleck. But all the attention was centered on him, the new Earl of Montbourne. The situation came to a head, and we, too, quarreled. My mother and I left the old castle. It was best that we did, for I gained my independence, and though not as wealthy as your husband, I can now provide nicely for myself. I hold my own title, too.”

  “And your mother?”

  “She lives quietly on my estate near Nottingham.” Jason cocked his head. “Now you know my story. ’Tis time I learned yours.”

  Chandra quietly explained all that had happened between Aleck and herself, leaving hardly anything untold. “That is why I wear mourning, Jason. Very much as with you and Aleck, it is a loved one’s death that keeps us apart. I don’t know if I could ever forgive him. Devin should never have died.”

  Gentle eyes looked upon her. “Though it might not seem so, my cousin is a man of great caring, Chandra. Never would he harm a living soul—not unless it is to protect someone who is most precious to him. Then, and only then, would he be willing to kill. What happened to your Devin was an accident. Believe me when I say Aleck suffers for what has happened. I know him. It is the truth.”

  “Winnie said nearly the same thing.”

  “Then ’tis time you believe what is told you. See him not as an Englishman, not as the man who accidentally slew your cousin, but for the man he is. Rid yourself of your hatred and resentment, for happiness awaits you. Open your heart, Chandra, and let it in.”

  He placed a kiss on her cheek, and Chandra watched as he took himself off into the crowd. When she could see Jason no more, she turned her attention to the room at large, searching out Aleck’s whereabouts. Not seeing her husband, she moved around the hall’s perimeter. Still no Aleck. Spying the Lady Emory, she knew he wasn’t with her, and breathed a sigh of relief. She edged into a corner, then on tiptoes again scanned the crowd. A hand took hold of her arm. Turning, she stared at her husband.

  Aleck’s emotionless gaze ran over her from head to foot. “Your girlish amusements are ended, sweet wife. ’Tis time you see to your husband’s.”

  Chapter

  11

  The door to Aleck’s room closed with a thump. The sound exploded in Chandra’s ears; she jumped. The time had come—but she wasn’t prepared for this. If lightning bolts could slice through thick stones and mortar, she prayed one would find her straightaway.

  From across the room, Aleck viewed his new wife. Soft candlelight kissed her pale skin. Wide-eyed and staring, she appeared close to fainting. It wouldn’t surprise him in the least if she did. Certain he knew her thoughts, he chuckled. “Our maker won’t intervene, Chandra. It was in His name that we took our vows. I am your husband and you are my wife. As it is written, we shall become one.”

  Chandra’s gaze fell to his feet. What he’d said was true. Tonight, clemency would shun her. “I know I’m expected to submit, but—”

  “’Tis not your submission I want,” Aleck interrupted. “’Tis my desire for you to partake.”

  “But you said—”

  “I know what I said. ’Twas male vanity speaking. I’ll not force you, Chandra, ’tis not my way. You must come to me freely. The choice has to be yours.”

  Sincerity met her when she looked at him again. “How can I come to you when so much stands between us?” she asked. Feel
ing nearly overpowered by his wondrous eyes, she turned her back to him. “Too much has happened.”

  Keeping by the door, Aleck surveyed her bowed head. When he’d seen her with Jason, jealousy had ripped through him. Anger driving him, his first response had been to tear the two apart. He’d waited though, ready to strike. When she was alone, he’d pounced, practically dragging her here, where he’d planned to make her succumb to his mastery. But as the door closed, he’d thought of another place, another time. Then, as now, his temper had driven him to react, and it had nearly spelled his death.

  Knowing he couldn’t harm Chandra—at least, never again—he’d relented in his quest to have her at all cost. The choice, as he told her, remained hers. But he couldn’t help but ask, “Are you certain we cannot bridge those things that keep us apart?” She didn’t respond. “’Tis more than Devin’s death, isn’t it?”

  “Yes—no.” Air filled her lungs until they nearly burst; she expelled her breath on a sigh. “I cannot say.”

  Quietly Aleck crossed the space between them. His hands fell upon her shoulders; he eased her around. “Look at me,” he said, his finger urging her chin upward. Her eyes met his. “’Tis your clansmen, isn’t it? You think they’ll label you a traitor, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she admitted, unable to lie to him. “’Tis my greatest fear that they’ll say I betrayed them and brand me a turncoat, among other things.”