Allegra's Dream (Avador Book 4, a Books We Love Fantasy Romance)

by Shirley Martin

  “Ah, madam.” A man clad in velvet and a fur-lined cape came forward to greet her. The king, surely? Young, with blond hair and blue eyes, he was quite the handsome gentleman. In his purple tunic and gray trousers, a gold belt studded with sapphires, he looked the very picture of elegance.

  “I am Arnou, madam, at your service, and welcome to my–our–castle. I trust you had a pleasant journey?”

  “Indeed.” Pleasant! Days of traveling over rocky hills, nights of sleeping in strange inns. “And thank you for your welcome, sir.”

  “But I’m sure you’d like to rest and freshen up a bit. We have rooms set aside for you and your maid.” Arnou snapped his fingers at one of the servants who stood nearby. “Show the princess to her room.” As she turned to leave, he spoke to her again. “Take all the time you need to get settled, then later we must talk. Perhaps you will join me for the evening meal?”

  “Sir, it will take me only a few moments to refresh myself. I can return shortly, if that meets with your satisfaction.” Doubts stirred in her mind. Did she meet with his approval? Did he consider her a country bumpkin, dressed as she was in a plain cotton dress? Well, too bad if he didn’t approve. She was Allegra Dorsay, future queen of Fomoria. He’d have to accept her as she was.

  He nodded. “I look forward to seeing you again, and soon.”

  With Elsa behind her and a servant carrying her one case, she walked up the wide stone steps and down a long hall. Several rooms led off from the hall, bedchambers, she remembered. The king’s offices were on the first floor. After turning a corner, they walked down another long hall and finally stopped at a door near the end of the hall.

  The servant opened the door and led them into a spacious but plainly-furnished room. A fire burned in the fireplace, imbuing the room with a comfortable warmth. A sofa and matching chairs comprised her sitting room, and beyond that lay her bedroom. There, a canopied bed dominated the room, with a tall pine dresser beside it and a plain table. Elsa’s room led off from hers, a much smaller room with a single bed and a three-drawer chest, also made of pine.

  After the servant left, Allegra exchanged a contented glance with Elsa. “What do you think, Elsa?” She waved her arms, her gaze encompassing the room. “Are you happy we returned?”

  “My lady, I’m happy if you’re happy.”

  She hugged the maid. “Ah, Elsa, you have ever been my friend, through all that has happened to me, since first being taken hostage all those years ago. Let us hope that this is the end of our journey, that we will stay here for the rest of our days.” Even if I can’t have the man I love.

  Elsa gave her a close look. “And are you happy, my lady? Please excuse my plain talk, but I’ve wondered. . .” She bit her lip and turned away.

  “Yes, wondered what?”

  The maid looked her full in the eyes. “Wondered if you might have wanted to stay in Avador.” She looked down at the floor, her face flushed.

  Allegra shook her head. “That’s all in the past, over and done with. My life is now, in my own country.” She smiled with false brightness. “Soon, I will marry Prince Arnou, if he’ll still have me, which I assume he will.” She took a deep breath. “So best we both adjust to our life here. Now,” she said briskly, “I’d like you to sort through my clothes and find something more suitable for me to wear when I go to meet the king again. I’ll wash up and change,” she said, thankful for the basin and pitcher of water on top of the table, along with a cake of sweet-smelling soap.

  Shortly after, the travel dust washed away and wearing a lavender linen dress, a gray woolen shawl wrapped around her shoulders, she left her room and headed back downstairs.

  The king rose from a high-backed chair to greet her again. “Are your rooms to your liking, madam? Is there anything you need?”

  She smiled. “Everything is fine, and I’d much prefer if you’d call me Allegra.”

  He returned her smile. “Allegra, a pretty name. And you must call me Arnou. Come sit,” he said, leading her to the long table. She caught the yeasty aroma of beer from a mug at his place. He snapped his fingers at one of the servants, who rushed over. “Tea and sandwiches.”

  “Yes, sir.” As the servant hurried away, another servant came forward to pull out a chair for her.

  The king joined her at the table. For the first time, she noticed his hands, soft and almost baby like, as if he did nothing more than push a pen across paper. But of course; he was the king. Why should it be otherwise? He surely had enough servants.

  “Now,” he said, “we have much to discuss. Or would you rather save our talk for another time?”

  “Now is as good a time as any.” She tried to get comfortable in the high-backed chair with its intricate carvings digging into her shoulders.

  The servant returned with the tea and sandwiches. First ascertaining her preference, Arnou poured a steamy cup of tea and offered her the plate of sandwiches. Until now, she hadn’t realized how famished she was after the long tiresome carriage ride, having stopped at an inn hours ago and eating a meager lunch.

  Arnou’s voice cut through her reflections. “I think it best if we marry as soon as possible, say within the next month or so. How do you feel about this?”

  “I agree that would be best.” Was this really happening? Was she planning to marry a man she’d just met?” Ah, Rowan, if only it could be you.

  He frowned. “Is anything amiss? Did I say something that upset you?”

  She pasted a bright smile on her face. “No, of course not. I fear I haven’t fully recovered from my long trip.”

  “Then would you rather leave our talk for another time?”

  “Oh, no.” She sipped her tea, delighting in its warmth, its cinnamon flavor. “As I said, I’d just as soon discuss these matters now. If we plan on marrying within this month,--” (and they would say ‘moonphase’ in Avador, she reminded herself)–“then we must make the necessary arrangements soon.” Not a very astute statement, she realized. She was more tired than she’d thought. She reached for a sandwich of indeterminate content and bit into it, finding it too spicy for her liking and too heavy with mustard. Setting the sandwich on her plate, she turned her attention back to him.

  “You must not concern yourself with any of the wedding details. My secretary will tend to all the arrangements.” He paused. “Do you have any family members you’d like to invite?”

  “No family. My parents–“ She choked and turned away.

  He patted her hand. “Yes, I’m aware of what happened to your parents.” A scowl crossed his face. “We have dealt with the traitors.”

  “So I understand. Let us hope that treachery no longer imperils the kingdom. We must have peace.”

  ‘That is my wish, also.” He tipped his mug back and drained it, then set it on the table with a satisfied sigh. “And that is why I consider it necessary that we wed as soon as possible. We must present a united front to the people.”

  She watched his face as she listened to him talk, wanting to develop warm feelings for him. This man would soon be her husband, would take her to bed. . . .

  Arnou talked on, his words passing by her. She leaned forward on the table, her eyelids drooping.

  “Ah, Allegra, I fear I have taxed you too much.” He was all solicitude now, as he helped her rise from the table. “Please, best that you go back to your room, rest a while before the evening meal.”

  She forced a smile. “I must apologize. It would have been better had I rested before coming downstairs. Perhaps we should save further discussion for dinner.”

  “Yes, I agree. Now, go upstairs and rest. A servant will come to announce the evening meal.”

  “Thank you.” She left him, pondering all that had happened since her arrival at the castle. Pleasingly surprised at her favorable opinion of Arnou, she thought back to her earlier concerns, before her return to Fomoria. She had feared that the king would be a much older man, brusque and uncaring. Young and considerate, Arnou impressed her with his attention tow
ard her, his kindly solicitude. Even if no love developed between them, still a warm regard for each other would be a good start. If she couldn’t love him, she wanted to at least like him, and she would have to settle for that.

  But her heart and soul cried for Rowan.

  * * *

  Hours later, she tossed and turned in bed, a dream tormenting her. “Come with me, Allegra. You’re in danger, danger, danger.” She jerked awake, pressing her hand to her pounding heart. Perspiration dampened her nightgown. It had been ages since she’d had that dream. Why did she have it now?

  Chapter Seventeen

  “It’s good to know I’m leaving the Ministry of State in capable hands.” Donat Fand stood next to Rowan’s desk and heaved a deep sigh. “This retirement hasn’t come too soon. So it’s back to Uisnech, more time with my family, farming. . .”

  Rowan looked up at him. “We’re going to miss you, and I mean that sincerely.” He managed a self-deprecating smile. “Not sure if I can fill your shoes.”

  Donat punched him lightly on the shoulder. “You know you can. You’ll do well; I feel sure of it.” Ready to leave, he turned back. “Oh, one thing I forgot to tell you, a decision Queen Keriam and her council made while you were away. They have rescinded the rule that Ministry of State employees can marry only women from Avador. So you can marry whomever you want.” He grinned. “But that old rule never concerned you, did it? Everyone knows you’ve been courting Neala Dechtine. Lovely woman,” he said, nodding in approval. “She’ll make you a fine wife.”

  But I don’t love her, Rowan mused as Donat left the room. There was only one woman he loved, and she was out of his life. Despite the demands of his new position as Minister of State, he leaned back in his chair, his mind wandering. A panorama of memories haunted him, of the first time he’d met Allegra and all the other times, up to their return from the Otherworld. He thought of their trip to that faraway place, a journey he would treasure for the rest of his life. He sat forward at this desk, his head in his hands, as all the precious images came flooding back, of holding her in his arms, kissing her, caressing her. Hard to believe it had all happened; often it seemed more like a dream. Allegra, I miss you so very much.

  Shaking his head, he brought his mind back to the present. He had much to do today, talk to Duncan Munro, who would assume his former position . So many other obligations required his attention. Best he see to these tasks, do as much as possible today. This new office was a vast improvement over his previous one, which wasn’t much more than a cubbyhole. More spacious, this office had high, wide windows and a roomy oaken desk with drawers down both sides.

  The hours passed while he accomplished his chores and cleared many papers from his desk. Now and then, ministry employees came to his office to ask advice or hand in reports, interruptions he recognized as part of his position.

  His thoughts drifted back to Allegra. He had to see her again, assure himself that she was doing well in her native country. Had she married the prince already? A sharp pang of jealousy shot through him, to think of her with another man, one who could take her to his bed. He would see her again. Avador hadn’t yet established diplomatic relations with the new king, so he would write to Arnou himself and have the letter delivered by Sloan Drummond, one of his assistants. Quickly, he drew a sheet of paper from a drawer and dipped his pen into the ink well. He addressed the letter to King Arnou, telling him of his planned visit to Fomoria, apprising him of the date of his arrival. That way, he hoped to be able to judge the new king and determine how Fomoria fared under his rule. And most of all, see Allegra again. See her again. He wouldn’t leave for several days, and he had a good deputy in Kelvin Elidor, who would tend to state business during his absence.

  He finished the letter and sealed it; he would give it to Drummond tomorrow, to be delivered to the king.

  This evening, he wanted to leave early; Neala Dechtine had invited him for dinner at her apartment tonight. Sighing, he thought of Neala with mixed feelings. He wanted to marry again and needed a wife, no denying that. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t dredge up any affectionate feelings for her. She was beautiful, no question, a knowledgeable and competent woman, good company besides. Was there something wrong with him, that he couldn’t accept and appreciate a woman with so many good qualities? Or was it that another woman’s looks and charms continually intruded on his thoughts, a woman whose coal black hair and violet eyes forever taunted his mind?

  Outside, the sun was setting, and shadows crept across the office walls. He hurried to complete his tasks, get as much done as possible before he had to leave.

  A knock on the door brought in the workman who lit the candles for any employees who stayed late.

  Rowan shoved his chair back. “Let it go, Herne. I’m leaving now. Any other employees still in the building?”

  “No, sir, everyone else has left.”

  “Then you might as well leave, too,” he said as he bade him goodnight.

  “Goodnight, sir.”

  Rowan threw his wool cloak around his shoulders and walked out onto a cold, blustery day. He sighed again as he walked, missing Allegra so, like a physical ache. He hoped she was doing well in Fomoria and that the prince was good to her, might even eventually come to love her. She’s so easy to love. He wished her nothing but good, her happiness always on his mind.

  A short while later, after washing up a bit and changing his clothes, he headed for Neala’s apartment, not far from his own. He passed friends and neighbors along the way, people going here and there on this cool evening. Tree branches tossed in a strong wind, the sky overcast. A few minutes later, he arrived at her door.

  “Rowan, so glad to see you. Another busy day at the ministry?”

  He smiled as he stepped inside. “Always a busy day. But I just want to enjoy myself this evening, not think about my duties at State.”

  She sidled up close and patted his cheek. “Well, you’ve come to the right place.” He caught her strong musk scent, an aroma that all but overpowered him. Another memory flashed through his brain, of a lavender fragrance and an evening’s ride in a carriage, a party hosted by the queen and prince. Moonphases ago, but it seemed like years.

  During the meal of marinated pork chops, washed down with elderberry wine, they talked about everything and nothing, inconsequential topics that helped him forget Allegra, if only for a short while. He found himself looking at Neala in a new light, recognizing her many admirable qualities, traits that would serve him well in all the entertaining he must do as Minister of State.

  Complete darkness covered the city of Moytura, but a few candles in iron sconces lent a warm glow to Neala’s sitting room.

  After clearing the table, she left the dishes to soak and excused herself. Rowan sat on the sofa, reliving the evening’s pleasant moments, resolved that tonight he would ask Neala to marry him. He knew he would never love her, but she would serve him well as his hostess and partner through life.

  She emerged from her bedroom a few minutes later, a sheer black nightgown clinging to every curve of her body. Torn between arousal and shock at her boldness, he looked up at her as she approached. He caught her musk scent, even stronger than before.

  “Rowan!” She sat next to him on the sofa, their thighs touching. She traced her fingers down his arm and wrapped them around his, then raised his hand to brush across her bosom, her breast soft and warm.

  How long had he been without a woman in his bed? Too long, much too long! Passion, hot and wild, stirred inside him, a desperate need to take her to bed. He brought her close to him, her breasts cushioned against him.

  Releasing his hand, she eased hers up his trousers and under his tunic. “You want me, don’t you?” she whispered close to his ear as she caressed him. “You know you want me.”

  With a suddenness that caught him by surprise, she drew back. “Say, whatever happened to that little girl you took to the party?”

  He blinked. “Little girl?”

  �
�Yes, you know the girl you took to the queen’s party several moonphases ago, had dark hair.”

  Ah, Allegra, the woman I love. “She was just visiting from Fomoria and has already returned.”

  “Good. I’m sure she couldn’t please you in bed like I can, a little girl like that, barely out of the schoolroom. Or did you take her to bed?”

  As if a bucket of ice water had been thrown in his face, his passion left him. He stood, rearranging his tunic.

  “Rowan, what’s wrong?” Her bewildered gaze told him she really had no idea that her questions and assumptions had offended him. “You want me, don’t deny it.”

  He smiled to take away the sting of his rejection. “You’re a lovely, beautiful woman, Neala. Someday I hope you will find a man who loves you for all your admirable traits, your love of life. But I am not that man. Better to recognize that fact now, rather than marry and find we don’t suit well together.”

  “Hah! Try finding another woman as pretty as I am, who could please you in bed as I can.” She smirked. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “I’ll manage.” He realized now that she was an empty shell, lacking true womanly charm and substance. If he went the rest of his life without a partner to love, that fate would be far better than to be wed to a woman he didn’t respect.

  Bidding her goodbye, he left her and headed back to his own apartment.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The days went by, days in which Allegra became better acquainted with Arnou, time for her to adjust to life in Fomoria, after an absence of so many years. While Arnou kept busy with council meetings, she explored the castle’s many rooms, refreshing memories from childhood. Cold and drafty, most of the castle’s rooms lacked a fireplace. She often wondered how the servants kept warm. Her bedchamber had a fireplace, as did the great hall, still a cold dampness permeated the rooms.