The Bride Of Spring

by Catherine Archer

  Thus it was with head held high that Raine entered the hall one night after her sixth week back at Brackenmoore. Seeing that Benedict was alone at the high table, Raine hesitated, but when he glanced up and nodded briefly, she had no choice but to move forward and take her place.

  She felt his eyes sweep over her, but refused to meet them. The cloth-of-gold gown and royal-blue overdress were, by her own admission, too fine for this occasion, but she did not let that concern her in the least. In this she must please no one but herself. She certainly had no interest in pleasing a husband who had no interest in her.

  She was gladly distracted from such thoughts by the arrival of William and Kendran. They were laughing, and as she looked at William, Raine saw the happiness in his green eyes, the healthy glow in his cheeks. It was such a marked change from his demeanor before she had wed Benedict. This, she told herself firmly, made any unhappiness she was experiencing in this marriage bearable. Did it not?

  She tried to answer her brother’s happy chatter in kind, but had no real concept of what she said in reply.

  Raine’s wayward gaze spent too long upon her husband. Why did he still look so handsome to her? Why did her heartbeat still quicken every time she thought of the way they had made love in the forest? Why were her dreams filled with images of the two of them…?

  With an inward groan she pulled her gaze away. Benedict’s lack of attention to herself or the two boys told her that he was too preoccupied with his own concerns to be thinking the wild thoughts that tormented her so.

  Quickly she assured herself that she did not care about his lack of interest. Not in the least. Yet she remained very aware of him and his distracted air.

  “Raine!” It was with some confusion that she heard her name being said with a trace of impatience. Turning, she realized that William was looking at her with an expectant expression.

  Raine drew herself up, smiling with forced ease. “I am sorry. I was not attending. What was it you wanted?”

  He arched his brows high, watching her closely. “I can see you were not listening, Raine. Is all well with you?”

  Quickly she nodded, smiling all the more widely. “I am fine. I was but…it matters not. What is it you need?”

  “I wish to go to Wyndam with Kendran on the morrow.”

  Raine looked at the older boy. He was smiling at her with that compelling charm of his. Once more, Raine could not help feeling that when he was older and that manner of his became subtler he would be irresistible. As it was, she was not swayed in the least.

  She found herself thinking that a mature and direct approach would be more appealing. And realized she had turned to face her husband once more.

  Horror filled her. Had she gone completely mad? Benedict was not mature and direct, he was cruel and heartless, willing to do or say anything in order to keep command of all around him.

  Determinedly Raine looked back toward her brother. She was not at all sure she wished for him to go off with the older boy. She queried, “How far is Wyndam and when will you return? Do you mean to take a troupe to protect you?”

  There was a long silence and Raine felt herself blush. She was infinitely aware that they were likely thinking of her rashness in taking William with her to Abbernathy.

  Benedict spoke up then. “They will take the proper measures, Raine. The keep is but a four-hour ride away. The two of them will be back by day’s end the day after tomorrow.”

  She frowned. Her chaotic feelings about him made her reply coolly. “I will thank you to allow me to make this one decision for myself.”

  His gaze swept her with surprise and indifference as he said, “By all means then, do decide.”

  The sound of a heavy sigh drew her gaze to William’s unhappy one. Instantly Raine realized she had made a fool of herself and for no good reason. Only her troubles with Benedict made her react this way. Deliberately she kept herself from looking toward her husband again. She must somehow find a way to relax in his presence, behave civilly. It would be unbearable were she not able to do so.

  She took a deep breath, concentrating on William. “You may go with Kendran.”

  William smiled with pleasure, though she noted there was still a trace of sadness in his gaze as he met hers. He said only, “Thank you, Raine.”

  She could feel Benedict’s attention on her as she rose, but she refrained from looking at him. “Your pardon. I find I am very tired.”

  Quickly Raine left the hall, realizing that this last statement was indeed true. She had been very tired of late, sleeping far more than she had ever done before. With this realization came a lurking suspicion that made her begin to count the weeks with an expression of amazement and, regretfully, sorrow. For the news was not welcome to her, not as things stood between herself and Benedict.

  She rose early the next morning, having slept less than in recent nights. Donning her clothing without aid, she went to the window and opened it, leaning out as she took in deep cooling breaths of the fresh spring air. It did not help ease her understanding that this day stretched before her, as interminable and painful as the rest. The knowledge that burned in her heart only made matters worse.

  Though she never went out without William, he was gone, and she could not remain here in her room. It would give her far too much opportunity to dwell on what Benedict would think if he knew her secret.

  Taking up her cloak, she left her chamber and made her way through the keep. Many of the castle folk watched her as she passed, a few nodding with grave formality. No one made any effort to speak to or detain her. Raine told herself she was grateful for this. She did not care to make polite conversation with anyone connected to her husband. Even when she exited the castle gate she was allowed to pass unmolested.

  This surprised her somewhat. She would have thought that Benedict might have instructed the guards to watch her for fear of her leaving. The only assurance he had that she would not do so was her word. Raine did not allow herself to believe that her word carried any weight with him. The blackguard was just too sure of himself to think she would ever do such a thing a second time.

  Pulling her cloak more closely about her as she started down the sloping castle mound, Raine determined to shrug off her irritation. She would not allow Benedict to ruin the remainder of her morning.

  Raine turned in the direction of the sea. It had been beautiful there, the feelings of peace she had experienced still alive in some distant part of her memory. Perhaps she could find them again, especially as this time Benedict would not be present to disturb her.

  Benedict again! Squaring her shoulders, Raine trudged on, concentrating on the path. So occupied was she in keeping her thoughts from straying to Benedict that she failed to take more than cursory note of the fineness of the blue sky overhead, or the richness of the grass beneath her feet. When she reached the cliffs, she found the circuitous trail that led down to the beach was quite steep, and she paid close attention to where she stepped. Once on the sand she quickly started off to her left. She was aware of the expanse of the sea to one side of her, the height of the cliffs on the other, the weight of the sand beneath her leather shoes, but her agitation remained a constant distraction. Then slowly, the sound of the waves pulling against the sand began to soothe her with their gentle and steady rhythm.

  Though she was not completely at rest as she started off once more, Raine was now aware of the blue of the sky and the mournful cries of the gulls overhead.

  She had not gone much farther when she looked up to see that she had inadvertently come upon a slender young woman sitting on a rock at the edge of the sea. Feeling that she was intruding upon the solitary figure, she paused in preparation of turning back the way she had come. Then something halted her, something troubling in the lovely profile of the young blond woman who stared so intently into the waves. Raine bit her lip in indecision as an inner voice bade her speak. She knew that the woman would likely resent her intrusion, yet she could not walk away.

  Giving
in to that seemingly uncontrollable impulse, Raine moved forward, saying, “Good day.”

  The young woman swung about, her gray eyes registering surprise. Quickly she rose and bowed. “My lady.”

  Raine nodded in return. Obviously her identity was known to this stranger. This fact should not surprise her. Their overlord’s taking a wife would be of great import to all who dwelled in and around Brackenmoore.

  She could see that the young woman was nervous by the way her fingers kept pleating the skirt of her blue wool gown. Thinking to put her more at ease, Raine said, “Forgive my intrusion. I simply saw that you, too, were enjoying the view.”

  She watched closely as the girl looked out over the ocean, then replied, “You are not intruding, my lady. I was but thinking about…” Raine could not help seeing the longing in her gaze as she took in the distant horizon.

  Feeling even more certain than before that something was quite amiss, Raine obeyed the impulse to step even closer, her gaze searching out and holding the other woman’s. “Is aught amiss?”

  The girl gave a visible start. “Why would you think so, my lady?”

  Raine was nothing if not direct. “I do not know. But I cannot dismiss the feeling that—”

  To her utter amazement the girl put her hands over her face and began to cry, her sobs shaking her slender shoulders. Before she even knew that she was going to do so, Raine found herself wrapping a supporting arm about those shoulders, murmuring soft words of comfort. “There now, tell me what is wrong.”

  The girl raised tear-filled eyes. “I can tell no one.”

  Raine looked at her with compassion, but also unwavering conviction. “You can tell me. Nothing can be so very bad as that.” She paused as the sobbing began anew, but went on after only a moment. “Why do you not begin simply then, perhaps with your name?”

  The tormented maiden gulped, then raised her head once more. “My name is Leandra.”

  “That is a very pretty name.”

  Again she put her hands over her face, crying, “That is what he said.”

  Raine felt a dawning understanding. “I take it that your distress has been brought on by something this ‘he’ has done?”

  In a muffled and tormented voice, she answered, “Aye, my lady.”

  “The blackguard.”

  The tears stopped as suddenly as they’d begun. Leandra replied fiercely, “Your forgiveness, my lady, but he is not a blackguard. He is good and kind and—”

  “Then what is the trouble?”

  A deep flush stained the girl’s cheeks. “My lady…I am…” Her hand went to her belly as again her yearning gaze turned to the sea.

  Seeing that gesture, Raine knew what had occurred. Quickly she said, “He has abused you. And refused to do what is right by you.”

  Leandra looked at her bleakly. “Nay, not abused. I was most willing.” She flushed even more darkly but did not look away. “We met at the winter festival. He was handsome and strong. We drank too much wine and…”

  “Again I ask, what is the trouble then?”

  She sighed. “I have not told him of the child.”

  Raine put her hands on her hips. “Why have you not done so? You must.”

  The other’s lips set in a stubborn line. “I will not. He has not spoken to me since and I do not wish for him to wed me out of duty. I love him and want him to love me.”

  Ah, love, Raine thought. It was an emotion she could well survive without. It made this unfortunate girl speak of her despoiler as if he had been wronged, and not she who had a child on the way and no man to care for it.

  Yet Raine knew her opinion of the fellow would not gain her Leandra’s confidence, and that was exactly what she must have if she were to be of any help. The father must be told of the child, thus averting the disastrous remedy the girl was surely contemplating. Raine said, “I believe you do love him and only want to protect him. But I am also most certain that he would wish to know of his child.”

  Leandra began to cry again, but more quietly. “I do not wish for him to wed me for the child. I want him to choose to come to me for my own sake. He is handsome and strong and brave, and my heart aches for his love.”

  Raine felt herself flush from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. The very words conjured up an immediate and intense memory of the way she had felt when Benedict kissed her, touched her. And the knowledge of just what had resulted from those embraces.

  As if sensing that she had said too much, Leandra put her hand to her mouth. “I beg pardon, my lady.”

  Raine’s voice was far too husky as she replied, “That is quite all right.”

  The girl stared off dreamily. “Of course you would know of what I speak, being newly wed to a man such as Lord Benedict. R—my love admires his master well.”

  Raine had no reply to make to that. At least none that she would voice aloud. What she did gather was that this unknown fellow must be in Benedict’s retinue. “So this man is in the service of my husband.”

  Leandra admitted reluctantly, “He is, my lady. And I would not wish for him to lose his place.” She closed her lips as if determined to say no more.

  Raine realized she would get no further here. She would have no choice in this matter but to go to Benedict, though the very notion made her stomach roll. The only thing that made her certain she must indeed do so was the fear of what Leandra might do if she did not.

  When Raine opened the door to the chamber the serving woman had directed her to, Benedict looked up, his gaze registering surprise. Immediately the expression was covered by that accustomed mask of reserve.

  Fighting a disappointment she did not want to feel, Raine lost no time in platitudes. “I need converse with you, my lord.”

  He turned to speak to another man she had not previously noted. The fellow got up from his seat across the table, which was heavily laden with books and ledgers, as Benedict indicated him with a wave. “My steward.”

  Raine nodded at the man’s formal bow.

  Benedict then told him, “Please leave us. I will send for you when I am ready to continue.”

  She felt a momentary sense of gratitude that her husband would put aside his business on her request. Quickly she pushed it aside, telling herself that she should not be surprised by his deference. Treating her with such a civility made him feel that he behaved properly.

  As soon as the steward was gone he stood. “What do you wish to speak to me about, Raine?”

  She moved toward the table, noting as she did so that she had never seen so many shelves of books in all her life. Though the fact was surprising, she must keep her thoughts on the problem at hand. “It is a matter of the utmost import.” Taking a deep breath to calm the anger that rose in her at the very thought of what had been done to Leandra, she went on. “I went for a walk along the shore and there I met a young woman named Leandra.”

  He nodded. “I know of her.”

  “That is well,” she told him. “I may then get to the point quickly.”

  He folded his hands before him in an attitude of studied attention, and she felt a twinge of resentment. Why did he have to be so insufferably self-possessed?

  Damn him, she thought in frustration. But she would ignore her differences with him long enough to get this said. Quickly and with a cool deliberation of her own she told him the tale of how she had met the young woman. She was pleased at the way Benedict sat up straighter, his expression becoming seriously troubled even before she ended with, “The young lady has told me she is with child and I believe one of your soldiers is responsible.”

  He spoke harshly. “Who is he?”

  Raine shrugged. “That she would not tell me, for she has some silly, romantic notion that he must ask her to wed not for the sake of the child, but for herself. She feels that his learning of the child would force his hand.” Raine avoided Benedict’s gaze as she spoke of the other woman’s child, fearful that he might read her sensitivity to this subject in her eyes. She was not prepared
to share this secret with her husband, though she was not sure why.

  Benedict came around the side of the table, thankfully oblivious to her dilemma. “That is ridiculous. My men are a decent lot. I am most certain that any one of them would wish to do the right thing by her for her own sake.”

  Raine raised her brows. “Do you really believe so, Benedict? Simply because they are friends to you does not mean that they are all of such sterling and honorable character. You are not above hurting another.” She stopped herself, appalled that the words had come from her mouth.

  He frowned at her, chagrined. “We are not talking of you and me, Raine. I tell you I know the hearts of my men.”

  She shrugged, hiding her surprise at his discomfort. “I will not debate with you. What I do wish to know is what you intend to do about her predicament.”

  Benedict remained silent for a very long time. At last he looked at her and said, “Raine, I do not know that it would be right for me to intervene. I have long since made a vow not to interfere in such matters.” He stared down at his hands. “I cost Tristan and Lily much in the way of peace and happiness by intruding in their relationship. Although I did genuinely feel that it would be a mistake for him to wed the daughter of our enemy, I was dreadfully wrong. If it had not been for me, they would not have had to run away in secret, and their babe would not have been born in a carriage in the dead of night. And Lily would not have lost her memory.”

  Raine did not understand all of the details of what he was telling her, but she could hear the pain in Benedict’s voice, believed him completely sincere in his motives in this. Yet she had to make him see that the two instances were not the same. She glared at him in frustration. “The situation cannot simply be left as it is.”