“I realize you do not know me,” he said quietly. “I do not know you and all we have really known of each other has been violent and sorrowful. But please be assured that I am an honorable man and I will protect you until it is no longer my duty to do so. You will be safe, Lady Brighton, I swear it.”
It was a chivalrous declaration. As Brighton gazed up into his pale green eyes, she began to feel something she’d never felt before. It was like a burning in her belly, a slow burn that spread throughout her limbs and caused her knees to shake. Looking into Patrick’s handsome face also caused her to feel a bit lightheaded and she had no idea why. Perhaps it was because she was upset and exhausted. Or perhaps she was simply being ridiculous. All she knew was that looking at the man made her want to collapse right into him. Quickly averting her gaze, she took a step away from him.
“I-I believe you,” she said, struggling against the giddiness. “I-I suppose I have little choice but to trust you. I do not mean it the way it sounds, but it is the truth.”
Patrick felt the warmth between them as well, something that sparked the moment he came near her and looked deeply into her eyes. In fact, even as she moved away from him, he couldn’t take his eyes from her, his gaze moving down that beautiful hair and noting her luscious womanly figure beneath the wool. He’d never seen finer and, more and more, his appreciation for her beauty was turning in to something else. He wasn’t quite sure yet, but something was changing for him.
And it scared him to death.
“Then please enjoy the rest of your evening,” he said, moving back to the door, realizing that his cheeks were actually flushed. God’s Bones, am I giddy? “We shall leave at dawn on the morrow and my sisters are preparing a traveling bag for you. If you need anything this night, there is a servant in the hall at all times or my… my sister’s doorway is down by the top of the steps.”
He had almost said that his chamber was right next to hers, suggesting that she could come to him if she needed anything. But that wouldn’t be proper nor would it be safe. Whatever you think you’re feeling for the girl, kill it! He told himself as he put his hand on the latch and opened her chamber door wide. He wasn’t even waiting for an answer to his statement but before he could get clear of the chamber, he could hear Brighton’s soft voice behind him.
“Y-you have my thanks, my lord,” she said. “You have been most kind amidst trying circumstances and if I have appeared ungrateful, then I apologize. I know you are only doing what you believe to be right.”
Patrick paused and, against his better judgment, turned to look at her. Softly lit by the glowing fire, he swore he was looking at an angel.
“You have not appeared ungrateful,” he said. “And it is my pleasure to be of service, my lady.”
He turned again, quickly, to leave, but she stopped him. “T-that is something else I must mention,” she said. “You need not address me as ‘my lady’. I am a mere postulate, after all, and not bred from nobility. ‘Mistress’ or even ‘sister’ will do.”
His gaze lingered on her even as he reached out to pull the door shut behind him. “Given that I believe what Sister Acha said, it would appear that you are far more than a mere postulate,” he said quietly. “And I will continue to address you with a term of respect and nobility. Get used to it.”
With that, he pulled the door shut behind him, simply to cut short his view of her. He wasn’t entirely sure he would be strong enough to leave had he gazed upon her much longer.
God’s Bones, what is in your head? He scolded himself silently, making haste for his own chamber and shutting the door softly behind him. He even bolted it for good measure, as if that would stop him from wandering out to the lady’s door again. And what a lady she was.
Giddy? Indeed, he was.
Foolish?
… more than he wanted to admit.
He didn’t sleep the rest of the night.
CHAPTER FIVE
To flee or not to flee… that is the question….
Aye, Brighton wanted to flee. At least, she thought she did. Now was her opportunity, out in the wide open spaces of the road.
But something was holding her back.
It could have been the fact that there were several big knights riding escort to their traveling party, men on fast horses that could easily catch her if she decided to run. Or it could be because Lady Katheryn and Lady Evelyn had been as kind as possible to her that morning, helping her to dress in traveling clothes, making her feel as if she was honored and special. It could also be because she had been introduced to Lady Katheryn and Lady Evelyn’s children that morning, delightful boys and girls who were quite enchanting and happy. They reminded her that there was joy still left in the world. Or, it could be because Patrick had made an impact with her the night before.
She was scared to return home.
There was also something about Patrick himself.
The day, in early June, was clear and mild, and Brighton found herself in a carriage with Lady Katheryn and Lady Evelyn, and Lady Evelyn’s baby. The child was not quite a year old, a red-cheeked cherub named Adele. The baby looked a good deal like her father, the tall red-haired knight, Hector, and she had been smiling at Brighton since nearly the moment they’d left Berwick. Brighton couldn’t help but smile back.
The other de Norville and Hage children were riding in another carriage, at least the younger ones were. But three of the boys – Lady Katheryn’s two eldest, Edward and Axel, and Lady Evelyn’s eldest boy, Atreus, were riding ponies near the carriage, shepherded by their fathers.
Lady Katheryn and her husband had three boys, the youngest one, Christoph, riding in the wagon, and Lady Evelyn had two boys and two girls, with one son, Hermes, and her other daughter, Lisbet, also riding in the wagon. Four big dogs rounded out the passengers and were companions as well as protectors to the offspring.
It was quite a tribe of children and pets that had come along in the escort heading for Castle Questing. Because there were so many women and children, Patrick and the other knights had doubled the number of men-at-arms and, even now, heavily-armed men on horseback rode in concentration around the wagons and carriage. Lady Katheryn had noticed them from the start of their journey and, even now as they bumped down the road, she kept glancing up from her sewing, peering from the cab window.
“There are so many armed men out there, it looks as if they are escorting the pope,” she muttered. “Does Patrick truly believe we are going to be set upon? We are flying de Wolfe banners, for Heaven’s sake. Anyone would have to be daft to attack us.”
Evelyn shifted the baby, looking out of the window. “We would make a very large target,” she said. Then, she caught sight of something in the distance and smiled. “Look at Atreus. He is so happy to be riding his new pony. I have never seen Hector so proud.”
Katheryn grinned as she stabbed at her sewing. “So is Alec,” she said. “He spent an hour instructing Eddie and Axel this morning before he ever let them on the ponies. I do believe this is the first time we have ever traveled and allowed the boys to ride on their own.”
Evelyn nodded, looking from the window a moment longer before pulling her head inside. “Mother will be so thrilled to see them,” she said. “They have grown in even the past few months when she last saw them.”
Katheryn agreed. “She will,” she said. Then, she cast a sidelong glance at her sister. “Was it difficult to convince Hector not to stop at Northwood Castle to visit his parents? We passed close to them a while back, I think. I heard Alec say something about it.”
Evelyn shook her head. “We see his father all of the time. You know that Paris comes to Berwick whenever he can because he has two sons there. It was not difficult to pass Northwood this time.”
Small talk bounced between the sisters; talk of children and of their mother and father, and of family at Northwood Castle, which evidently wasn’t far away. Tucked in the corner of the carriage, Brighton listened to it all. The sisters weren’t deliberately bei
ng rude but Brighton was rather glad they’d left her out of the conversation; she didn’t feel much like talking. She found her thoughts drifting to the countryside, to Coldingham, and to her uncertain future.
Here she was, traveling with unfamiliar people – people she considered the enemy – but they had all been very kind to her. No one had treated her as an enemy and, perhaps, that was part of the reason she was increasingly reluctant to flee. These English were kind and welcoming people. It was all quite confusing, but there were things about this new world that weren’t so bad.
She might even come to like it someday.
“I am very sorry, my lady.” Katheryn’s soft voice cut into her thoughts. “We have not meant to exclude you from the conversation. We would be very pleased to speak on any subject you choose.”
Brighton tore her gaze away from the carriage window, turning to the women who were smiling politely at her. She forced a smile in return.
“Y-you were not excluding me,” she said. “I was content with my own thoughts.”
Katheryn smiled. “That is sweet of you to forgive us our insult,” she said. “We did not have much chance for pleasant conversation last night or this morning, really. I have not even had the chance to ask you if your clothing fits adequately.”
Brighton looked down at herself. She was wearing a dark blue woolen traveling dress, lightweight, with layers of shifts beneath it. The garment was cinched tightly in the waist, giving her a rather exquisite appearance. She was full-breasted, something she’d never really paid any attention to because she’d spent her entire life in ill-fitting woolen robes. This morning when the ladies had put the traveling dress on her was the first time she’d ever noticed she actually had a figure and it was a stunning one. She thought she might have seen the English knights, including Patrick, give her second glances when she’d climbed into the carriage that morning, attention that embarrassed her. She’d never known anything like it before.
“I-it is beautiful,” she said simply, lifting her head to look at her traveling companions once again. “I…I have never worn anything like this before.”
“It suits you,” Evelyn said confidently. “It used to be mine but I can no longer fit into it. I am more than happy to give you my clothing that no longer fits. I am pleased you can use it.”
Brighton nodded, a hesitant gesture. “Y-you have been most kind, my lady,” she said. Then, she looked between the two of them. “You have both been most kind. As I told you last night, I do not mean to appear ungrateful for anything you do for me, but this is all quite… overwhelming.”
Katheryn and Evelyn were understanding. “I cannot imagine what you are feeling,” Katheryn said quietly. “But we will do everything we can to make you feel comfortable.”
Brighton wasn’t sure what to say to that. She’d never known such genuinely nice people. She simply nodded and returned her attention to the open window, which happened to face north, into Scotland. Her home. Katheryn and Evelyn exchanged sympathetic glances.
“Will you tell us about your home, my lady?” Evelyn asked, simply to keep the conversation flowing. “Have you lived in a convent your entire life?”
Brighton sensed they were simply trying to include her in conversation so she wouldn’t feel left out. She wished they didn’t feel that way, for she truly didn’t have any desire to chat the journey away, but she responded to them nonetheless.
“I-I have,” she said. “Coldingham is… well, it is my home. I love it there.”
“Did you receive an education?” Evelyn asked. “Did you have regular duties?”
Brighton nodded. “I-I learned to read and write,” she replied. “Sister Acha was insistent that I learn. I can speak Latin and Italian because one of our sisters, Sister Andria, only spoke Italian and a little Latin. She was in charge of the kitchens so if you wanted to eat, you had to learn to communicate with her.”
Katheryn and Evelyn were fascinated with an Italian nun. “That is wonderful,” Katheryn said sincerely. “I have never actually met someone who lived in a convent. Did you have times of leisure or did you pray all day and all night?”
Brighton grinned at their naïve questions. They acted as if she had lived on the moon for the past nineteen years. “W-we prayed at appointed times, just as you do,” she said. “When we were not praying, we were working. I worked in the kitchens and in the garden. Some nuns worked with the animals, as we had many sheep and goats, and some nuns did the sewing, the scrubbing, and things of that nature. We also had a small infirmary where nuns would tend the sick, but we are not a healing order so the infirmary was very small.”
Katheryn and Evelyn were very interested in life in the convent. “Was it a big garden?” Evelyn asked. “The one you tended, I mean. Our mother has a large garden at Castle Questing, where we grew up, but Patrick would not let us have a flower garden at Berwick. He says that military installations do not have flower gardens, so all he allows us to grow are vegetables for the table.”
Brighton’s thoughts shifted from Coldingham to the enormous knight with the pale green eyes. Even the mere thought of him caused her heart to flutter, just a bit. It was an unfamiliar feeling, indeed. The man must have put a devil’s curse on me to make me jump every time I so much as think of him!
“W-we did grow some flowers, but we mostly grew herbs and vegetables,” Brighton said. “We grow a great deal of lavender and roses, for even roses can be eaten or used in medicines. Roses are my favorite.”
“Mine, too!” Evelyn piped up, shifting the baby on her lap. “When Hector and I were courting, he would bring me roses all of the time. He still brings them to me on occasion. He is thoughtful that way.”
Courting was such an alien concept to Brighton that she hadn’t much to say to that. These women lived in a world of husbands and children, and she did not. Still, she was having her first glimpse into a world other than that of a convent and she wasn’t hard pressed to admit it was intriguing. A world where husbands and wives and children made life happy and content. Inevitably, her attention moved to the baby, who was grinning at her again. When Evelyn saw where Brighton’s attention was, she lifted the baby in her direction.
“Would you like to hold her, my lady?” she asked. “Adele is a very good baby. She would be no trouble.”
Although Brighton hadn’t spent any time around children, she had a strong maternal instinct. She liked to nurture things, both plants and animals, and she was very fond of children as a rule. With a timid smile, she reached out for little Adele.
“S-she is very beautiful,” she said as Adele slid into her hands. “How old is she?”
Evelyn’s affectionate gaze was on her daughter. “She will have seen one year in September,” she said. “She is such a happy girl. She has been a joy, unlike my other three, who were holy terrors at this age. The screaming they went through!”
Katheryn chuckled. “At least you have had two girls to balance out the males in the family,” she said. “I am outnumbered.”
As the two sisters giggled and chatted about their children, Brighton settled the baby on her lap and cuddled her. She was sweet and soft and warm, grinning her big four-toothed grin. Brighton was very content with the baby in her arms. Adele eventually fell asleep against her. As Brighton sat back against the seat, cradling the sleeping child, she was coming to think that there was nothing so sweet in this world as a child in her arms. Having never experienced such a thing, her first experience was one of joy.
Something more in this strange new world that pleased her.
The party bumped along the road for another hour or two, with the men outside the carriage talking, issuing commands, and the children on ponies running about under their father’s supervision. At one point, Brighton caught sight of one of the knights – and it was difficult to tell who it was with all of the armor the man was wearing – with a very small boy on the saddle in front of him. The child was having a marvelous time.
In all, it had been a relaxed jour
ney in spite of all of the heavily-armed men. Somewhere around the nooning hour, the party came to a halt and the knights moved the carriage and wagons off the road, into a field that had a brook running through it. The children were released from their ponies and from the wagon, as were the dogs, and soon there was a gaggle of children running around, screaming and laughing, playing in the warm weather. Dogs barked and chased the children as the adults brought forth food for the nooning meal.
Brighton climbed from the carriage, helped out by one of the knights she remembered from the night before, the one who had been at Patrick’s command when he’d carried her away from the fighting. She didn’t know his name but he looked rather like Katheryn’s husband with big shoulders and green eyes. Since she didn’t know him and he made her rather nervous, she quickly walked away from the carriage, moving clear of the commotion between the ladies and the children and the dogs. She’d handed the baby back over to Evelyn long ago and, now with her arms free, she looked around at their surroundings as she rubbed at her arms, somewhat numb from having held them in the same position for so long.
A light breeze blew through the trees, fluttering the grass, and no one seemed to pay her much attention as she stood there. The men-at-arms on horseback had spread out, undoubtedly to watch for any threats to the party, and the knights seemed to be lingering with the women and children. The knight who had helped her from the carriage was now on the ground with two small boys jumping on him, while off to the left, Katheryn was in the embrace of her tall, red-haired husband. It was a delightful family scene, to tell the truth, and Brighton could tell that these people were all quite close to one another. There seemed to be a good deal of love and camaraderie going on, something she found very sweet.
In truth, it wasn’t something she had seen much of in her life, this kind of love and camaraderie. The nuns of Coldingham could be rather severe and harsh, at times. There wasn’t a good deal of affection at the priory. Even Sister Acha had been a strict woman, not given to fits of emotion, so Brighton was rather awed by the sight of people who were open with their affection.
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 141