She nodded again. “Lady Dawning,” was all she said.
“So it seems our young ones have fallen in love,” George Mayfield said expansively.
“It would seem so,” Martha said evenly. She did not trust them, and she did not like this match. But there had been too much division in her family over marriage already, and she could not bear to lose Henry in that way. She had already lightly made some suggestions about waiting and no need to rush into something this momentous, but he had flown off the handle at the mere suggestion that this was anything other than what it appeared to be—a good match formed on the deepest admiration and consideration for one another.
So just this once, she decided to put her reservations aside and assume this was exactly what it purported to be, the chance meeting of two old friends that had blossomed into love, both sides blissfully ignorant of the deep rift that had opened between their parents, who had once been fast friends.
“We cannot express how overjoyed we were to hear that Henry Dawning had proposed to our very own Mary. I said, ‘What a perfect way for our old friendship to be rekindled.’”
“Mmm, quite,” was all Martha said.
“Now, of course there is the small matter of her dowry. Forgive my gaucheness in even mentioning it, but I always prefer to get such matters out of the way right up front. Then we can enjoy the rest of the festivities, as is fitting on such an occasion.” Martha looked at him expectantly. “Now, Mary is our youngest daughter, so her dowry is necessarily not as large as her older sisters; not to say that it is small…”
“Well, it is certainly not small,” Lady Mayfield supplied.
“No,” George reaffirmed. “Truth be told, it is probably more than we should give for a youngest daughter; but we adore Mary so and wanted to show how overjoyed we were at the prospect of being united with the Dawnings. So we are parting with our lands in Scotland,” he announced grandiosely, then waited expectantly for Martha’s reaction.
Martha sat and contemplated for a moment before speaking. She knew the Mayfields very well and doubted seriously they would be willing to part with any valuable land. She wondered if they were offering her a large patch of the bog, secure in the knowledge that this close to the wedding there would be no time to have the offered land properly surveyed. But she could not outrightly accuse them of such a thing. “That is wonderful, Lord Mayfield.” She forced a smile, albeit a weak one, onto her face. “Such a choice parcel of land as you have described will make the perfect wedding gift for Henry and Mary, and each time they look out over their vast tracts of land, they will know to whom they owe their gratitude.”
George gave Lady Mayfield a sidelong glance. “Wedding gift, lady?” he asked hesitantly.
“Yes, is that a problem?” she asked innocently.
“Well, no, I am sure they will be quite pleased with the land, but we naturally assumed that you would want to keep Henry closer to home.”
Martha raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. “And why, pray tell, would that matter?”
“Well, to help take the burden of the affairs of state off your shoulders.”
“That is not Henry’s responsibility. He has four elder brothers.”
“Well, yes… but we understood… that they…”
“That they what?”
“Well it seems that we were misinformed.” George quickly dismissed the matter. “I wonder if I might not arrogate to the honor of mentioning that to them, the wedding gift I mean, in my toast at the wedding. I will give you full credit, of course.”
“Of course.” Martha Dawning was all too sure that her ‘old’ friends were just the same as they had always been.
CHAPTER NINETY-TWO
“Do you ever imagine there could be a better life for you?” Leah asked William.
“Better?” William kicked a stone into the stream. “Look around, Leah. I have a better life than most anyone.”
“You have a more comfortable life than most people, but if it does not make you happy, then it may not be a good life for you.”
He thought about that for a moment. “I'm conflicted. Part of me loves the accolades that come with the life of a knight. You know, victory, glory, getting to be a hero…but part of me hates it at the same time. It disturbs me to think that the moment I ride out to defend the kingdom, my life may already be forfeit, and it is not up to me to decide. That often seems too much to bear. But at least I am fighting for my own lands and family. How much worse is it for those knights that are sworn to Dawning Court and are attached solely by oath? I cannot even imagine what it must be like to know your life may be spent on another’s whim.”
“That's the price they pay for a life of privilege, I suppose,” Leah agreed. “But it is certainly better than the alternative.”
“How so?”
“It is often argued that the serfs and peasants give up that life of privilege in exchange for the protection of the knights and barons; but the fact is, if our lands are invaded, the peasantry will be the first casualties of the invasion, and they will have less say in their fate than even the knights.”
“Exactly. Therefore, when you ask if I imagine a better life for myself, what else is there? You know, when I was small I used to want to be just like my father. He seemed so powerful and so wise.” William scooped up a handful of stones and began skipping them across the brook as the two of them meandered along the bank. “I just assumed I would grow up to be him. But now the thought of having to take on the responsibilities of a barony sends shivers down my spine, and I give thanks every day that I am not the eldest son.”
“What you really want then is to be free from responsibility?”
William hesitated before answering, sensing a trap. “I suppose that's right.” He sighed and squatted down by the side of the bank. “I suppose I do really just want to be free. What is curious about that is that I do not know when or where I changed from wanting to become my father to being terrified of the burden of my father's responsibilities.”
Leah sat on a soft patch of earth and reclined on her hands. Her hair fell in front of her eyes as it always did, and the faded blue cotton dress outlined her shape nicely. William forced himself to look away and dismiss those thoughts that seemed to be coming unbidden with increasing frequency recently. Leah was his friend. That was all either of them wanted, and he was not willing to jeopardize that for anything, he told himself. Yet still he found himself wondering if their solid friendship would be the foundation for a transcendent romantic relationship. But then again, perhaps not. They were so young and both had so much left to experience; delving into this relationship now could only spoil it for later.
On the other hand, Leah was older than he was, and women were expected to be married younger than men. So if he did not stake his claim now, would he lose her? Did he even have a claim to stake? And what if he did pursue her and she reciprocated? Would the premature nature of such an arrangement only give the natural enemies of such a union, Leah’s father for example, too much opportunity to foil his plans? William cursed himself for the thousandth time for entertaining these wild ideas. What would make him think a girl like Leah would settle for a confused, immature, child anyway?
Leah had cocked her head to the side and was peering at him curiously. He started to feel as if she were reading his thoughts and nervously tried to distract her. “So what about you? Do you ever wish for a different lot in life?”
“I never really saw a need to.”
“You’re telling me that you don't get tired of all your lessons on good grooming and etiquette; all the expectations and demands to be perfect, prim, and proper at all times and to mingle at endless functions with a bunch of people you do not know? Come, now. You have often complained of those affairs.”
“I confess that I do sometimes murmur, but those stuffy affairs demand so little of me that it seems a small price to pay for everything else.” She stretched and lay back on the grass. William wished she hadn't.
“Ev
erything else?”
“Of course. A nice place to live, food to eat, a good family, a beautiful view,” she said, looking dreamily at the sky. “And good friends. The other things are such a small price to pay, I just don't think of it as a sacrifice.”
William lay on the ground next to her with their heads almost touching. “I wish I could see what you see.”
“You can if you just let yourself; it is all right there.” She waved a slender arm at the scenery.
“No, it is not. The beauty you see in everything and everyone is right there,” he said, tapping her forehead with his finger.
As they lay there together, William was acutely aware of just how far outside the bounds of propriety their relationship really was, but he had known Leah too long to maintain any real formality between them. He could not even imagine only seeing her in strictly regimented meetings, as was frequently the standard in courting. “The reason everything is good to you is because you are so good.” William sat up and hunched over his knees in a protective position.
“But don’t you see, William? You said it yourself,” Leah said sitting up after him. “The world is what you make of it. If you want to see the beauty and good in the world, it is there. But if you look for darkness and pain, it is not hard to find.”
William looked into her beautiful hazel eyes and smiled. He could not help himself. She was so wonderful, and everything she did was so picturesque. It was hard to believe there could really be a creature like this. “What?” she said self-consciously. “You are laughing at me.”
“No,” he said. “I am just not sure how I ended up with a friend like you. I fear that it is only a matter of time before it is discovered there is a swan in with the chickens and you are spirited away to be with your own kind.” William flushed slightly at the overly sweet nature of the sentiment. It was an expression of a sincere feeling, but when he tried to articulate it, it sounded silly to his own ears.
Leah did not seem to notice his embarrassment as she looked away, blushing, at the same time. “Now stop that; you know I am not that good.”
William chortled loudly. “Name one bad thing you have done in the last week.”
“I can name several...” she rejoined before thinking.
“Alright,” William said sitting back on his elbows and making a great show of settling in for a long wait.
“Why, just this morning...” she began, then trailed off.
“Yes?” William prodded. “This morning you… fell in with a band of highwaymen and robbed a royal courier?” he suggested. “You took over France, perhaps? You would not be the first woman to do it single-handedly, you know,” William rolled on, having a great time at his friend’s expense. “I know, you stole a ship—”
“I fought with my sister,” Leah blurted out. William stopped mid-joke and looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“You fought with your sister?”
“It wasn't an ordinary quarrel,” Leah said looking away, unable to meet his gaze. “You are aware of the fencing instructor that visits our estate a few times a week?” William nodded dumbly. He was struggling vainly to imagine where this might be leading. “Well, Eve started studying with him also a while back,” she continued.
“Ok,” William said slowly, still confused.
“Well, she wanted to practice with me today. She is so competitive,” Leah said, anger rising in her voice as she recalled the events of the morning. “Anyway, I have been studying for much longer than she has and figured it would be a good chance to teach her some tricks I have learned along the way. But she is much more athletic than I am, and I found that I was having a hard time keeping up with her. I became so frustrated that it took everything I had just to fend off her attacks. Finally, the only trick I had left to keep from losing was a technique I knew she had not yet learned to disarm an opponent, and despite knowing it would hurt her, I did it anyway.” She trailed off, ashamed. “Why is she so competitive?” she blurted suddenly. William was grinning at her. “You’re laughing at me again?” she said, some of her anger flowing toward him.
“Yes, I am,” William admitted. “As the pantheon of great sins go, I'm not sure this made the top three. Maybe not even the top five,” he said, trying to suppress his laughter.
Leah punched him solidly in the chest. “I tell you something that is painful to me, and all you do is laugh?” He stood up, realizing that may not be the last blow that would be coming his way before this was over.
“I am sorry,” William choked out through scarcely contained fits of laughter. He cleared his throat and straightened up. “I—I'm sorry,” he said in a more serious voice, trying to keep the corners of his mouth from turning up with only limited success. “Please let me help you up, milady.” He offered his hand to her. She looked at him suspiciously through her wayward lock of hair but offered him her hand.
William helped her up and pulled her in close. “You know, I was just thinking,” he said softly. “Perhaps Eve is not the only one in her family who is too competitive,” and erupted in another fit of laughter as he danced out of the way of the kick to the shins she directed at him.
Leah’s lips pursed in fury as she stalked away. “Wait, wait,” William pleaded. She ignored him and kept marching. “Leah, Leah,” William said, catching up to her but prudently staying out of striking distance. “Do not go that way. I saw the town constable looking for you earlier. You must flee.”
“You are a jerk,” Leah said, though she could not completely suppress some amusement of her own. Nevertheless, her dignity had been insulted. “I'm going home. Please do not follow me.” Leah cut off the main trail and headed toward her father’s house. Knowing he was pushing his luck, William discontinued his pursuit but could not resist one last jab. Leaping into the crook of a tree and hanging off the trunk, he called after her: “Fear not, milady. No one will ever know of the foul deeds you have perpetrated on your own family. I will never tell. Wild mice could not drag it out of me.” Leah’s nose shot up further in the air as she walked primly away. “They could throw me in the dungeon and starve it out of me, and I would not talk till at least lunchtime, maybe even dinner...” He pretended to be thinking about it. “No, no, lunch. But your secret is safe with me, milady.”
When Leah was out of earshot, William walked back to the castle, still chuckling to himself and feeling only slightly guilty about teasing his friend.
CHAPTER NINETY-THREE
“Now me, now me!” Hannah squealed in delight, clapping her hands as Thomas swung Harry around in the yard in front of his estate. Thomas was worn out from his day with the children. The sun was starting to set, and he was anxious to wind things up for the day, but the children showed no signs of fatigue.
“Okay,” he gasped, setting grinning Harry down in the grass. He picked up his little red-headed daughter on his back and began racing around with her. It did not take long before his large belly was heaving even more than before, and he had to slow to scarcely more than a walk.
“No, daddy,” Hannah ordered. “Faster, as fast as you can.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” he muttered and forced himself to pick up the pace.
“Faster, faster!” she yelled, squealing again as he jumped a small puddle in the dirt. “Jump the fence now.” She pointed to the wooden fence erected from roughhewn logs that surrounded portions of his land near the house. Thomas ran over to it and pretended to try to jump it, falling over it instead as he gently deposited Hannah on the ground while he pretended to be dead, collecting some much-needed moments of rest.
“Get up, Daddy,” she said and jumped on his stomach.
“Ow.” He rolled into a fetal position to protect himself from Harry, who had toddled over to them and was now preparing to jump on him also.
“Careful now, you will hurt Daddy,” he said, trying to sound playful but with definite purpose.
“Again, again,” Hannah said and jumped on his head, sliding off and inadvertently tearing at his ear as
she did so.
“Damn it, Hannah!” he roared and shoved her away from him.
She stumbled back and fell on the ground, landing solidly on her bottom. It took a moment for the shock to wear off enough for her to start screaming. Hannah rarely merely cried. If she was unhappy, she screamed. And she was definitely unhappy.
Harry looked from his father to Hannah and back again, and not knowing what else to do began to cry himself, his cute little chubby face turning into a sad frown as he did so.
Annie hurried up to them, having entered the yard just in time to see Hannah jump on Thomas. “You cannot be so rough with them,” she chastised Thomas. “They are just children.”
“Well, I used to have two ears,” Thomas said, holding his left hand over his painful red ear. Annie scooped up the children protectively, one in each arm.
“She was not trying to hurt you.”
“Well, she did,” Thomas said. “After I had asked her several times to stop.”
“At least hers was an accident,” Annie pointed out. “You are old enough to know better. She is not.”
“It was an impulsive reaction,” Thomas barked, angered at Annie’s refusal to understand and dismiss this. “Just like marrying you,” he added. Annie made no reply as she was accustomed to his digs, and that made Thomas angrier at having failed to elicit the reaction he was after. “And just like my marriage to you, I was sorry the moment I had done it, and you have continued to make me sorry about it ever since.” Annie’s large, dull eyes began to tear up, and she took the children into the house.
Thomas leaned against the fence to watch the remainder of the sunset. He regretted pushing Hannah and the effort it was going to take to mend things with Annie. Oh, Annie, what had he ever been thinking to marry such a girl? Their relationship was bad to begin with and had only declined steadily from the beginning. And each new stress was making it that much worse. He wanted to say it was all Annie’s fault, but truth be told, she was the same simple-minded girl he had first married. She was not a good match for him, but he had rushed impulsively into the marriage and had only seen his folly when it was too late. They were too dissimilar, he and Annie. He was clever and scheming, she was simple and kind. He was brutally tactless in every situation, and she would never dream of hurting anyone if she had a choice.
The Knights Dawning (The Crusades Series) Page 48