by Aston, Alexa
A knock at the door startled him. He quickly pushed the parchment under his pillow and went to open the door.
The same servant he’d seen earlier stood there. “Your betrothed has arrived, my lord.”
Michael nodded, his throat thick with emotion. He closed the door behind him and followed the girl down to the great hall. The vast room was empty except for the pair sitting at a trestle table that had been pulled from its place against the wall. As he approached them, he vaguely remembered the nobleman from so many years ago.
But it was the woman that drew his eye.
She sat very straight, as if her back had been attached to a board. She stared out across the room but seemed focused on nothing. Her dark clothing was simple but elegant in its cut. A light-colored caul covered her head and hid her hair, with a transparent veil pulled across her face.
Michael came to stand before them. He bowed and greeted them. “My lord. My lady. Welcome to Sandbourne. I am Sir Michael Devereux.”
Lord Lambdin stood. “Many years have passed since we have been here. And the boy has become a man.” He inclined his head slightly. “Daughter? Rise. Greet your husband-to-be.”
Lady Albreda sat motionless for a moment. Michael wondered if she did so in hesitation or defiance. Then she came to her feet. She was a good foot shorter than he was.
Slowly, her head fell back until their eyes met. In them, he saw pain.
And rage.
She offered her hand and he bent over it. He brushed a quick kiss upon her fingers before he released it.
Albreda blinked and she seemed like a different woman. Her eyes now appeared dull in her face. Her lips neither smiled nor frowned. Her placid expression gave away nothing.
Yet he sensed something churning inside her. His curiosity grew.
“Would you care to visit a few minutes with my father, Lord Lambdin?” Michael asked. “He’s very ill, but I’m sure he would like to acknowledge your presence and welcome you to our home.” Michael glanced at his betrothed. “Mayhap Lady Albreda and I might remain here and become reacquainted while you do so.”
As if Houdart read his thoughts, the steward appeared at his elbow. He greeted Lord Lambdin and said, “Lord Sandbourne would like a word with you, my lord. May I escort you to him?”
The nobleman nodded and excused himself, following Houdart from the great hall.
Michael turned to the woman he would spend the rest of his life with, holding his tongue. He wouldn’t blurt out that he didn’t want to marry her. That his heart belonged to another. He would make the best of their situation, as so many before him had done. She would be mother to his children. Sandbourne would forever be her home.
Before he could speak, Albreda said, “I will not marry you, my lord. Not tomorrow nor any other day. You must help me put a stop to this ceremony. No matter what the cost.”
Chapter Eighteen
Elysande awoke and blinked several times, surprised that she had fallen asleep. She sat up, still fully clothed from yesterday, her cotehardie damp from her tears.
Yesterday. The worst day of her life. The day she discovered her beloved was betrothed to another. And today—and every day after it—would only bring more misery to her soul.
Could it be true? That Michael had no idea he was betrothed?
She knew of the lengthy estrangement with his father. How the break had occurred many years ago when he was but a small boy. She thought back to herself at that age and found, even with a happy childhood, her memories were hazy at best. Just vague impressions of running about the keep, playing dolls with Avelyn, and spending time with the horses. That made her realize how, without being around any family to remind him, he truly might have forgotten about his betrothal—or not even understood the brief ceremony when it took place. He would have repeated a few words and then gone out to play, no wiser as to the significance the words he’d uttered had upon his future.
She swallowed and found her throat remained swollen from the many tears she’d shed. As much as the situation pained her, at least she’d been able to cry at length and have Merryn comfort her.
Michael would have no such opportunity. By now, his father would have told him of the upcoming marriage. She could see Michael now—stoic, unspeaking, keeping his face a mask as his thoughts churned inside. He had no one at Sandbourne in whom he could confide. No one who could listen to him rage against the unfairness.
So he would suffer in silence. That caused a fresh flood of hot tears to escape. Elysande fell back onto the bed and buried her face into the pillow, allowing herself to wallow in a last bit of misery.
Then she decided she must push it aside. Though she would ache for Michael’s touch all the days of her life, no good would come from moping around. She would have to build a life without him. It would be expected for her to marry. She would do as she was told and try her best to honor her husband as best she could.
But her love and her heart would always belong to Michael Devereux.
A sudden thought panicked her. What if she were with child?
Part of her was thrilled by the notion, believing that she would always have a piece of Michael with her. That any child born of their single coupling would be lavished with love. She would want it to be a boy who looked just as his father did, dark-haired and handsome, full of kindness and good cheer. He would be the light of her life. The child would give her a small bit of her beloved to cherish over the years to come.
Then reality set in. She was unwed. If she did find herself with child, who would marry her? By the time she arrived at court in service to the queen, the babe might already have grown within her to a point where it would be hard to hide. How long could she keep something like that a secret—especially in close quarters with so many other women?
Elysande was torn. Should she seek her uncle’s help and find a husband at once, the better to hide the fact? If she hurried and wed quickly enough, mayhap she could convince this man that he was the father of her child. She’d heard some babes did come early, especially first ones.
Yet the thought of lying beside another man, his hands touching her intimately in ways only Michael had, made her gag.
She fell to her knees in prayer, begging the Christ for mercy. Elysande prayed for a long time. For Michael to put the memories of her behind him. For him to begin a new life as Earl of Sandbourne with a lovely woman by his side. For her not to be found with child.
And for the Living Christ to accept her as His Bride.
Elysande realized that she would never be happy at court. Nor would she ever want another man in her bed. She would give up the idea of having children and escape from this world, one that held too many memories of Michael. She must do as she first had believed was best.
She would enter a convent.
Once she’d changed her clothes and bathed her face, a calm descended over her. Her decision now made, she would need to share it with others. Knowing she’d already missed morning mass and breaking her fast, Elysande headed to the solar. She would tell her uncle and aunt of her plans and ask that she be taken back to Hopeston for a brief visit. It would be important for her to see her mother and Avelyn one last time and try to make them understand her decision.
Elysande knocked on the solar’s door and heard Merryn call out. She entered and saw her aunt sewing. Merryn put aside the needle and cloth and came to embrace Elysande. She closed her eyes and relished the moment, wondering if nuns comforted each other in such a way.
Merryn stroked her hair fondly. “Would you like to sit with me? I’m making a few things for the new babe.”
She appreciated that Merryn didn’t mention Michael’s name. If her aunt had, Elysande might have dissolved in tears.
Merryn studied her a moment. “Or better yet, it might do you good to get out. Mayhap we should go and visit Johamma. I might even glimpse Ancel while we’re at Winterbourne.”
Seeing others and having to make polite conversation was the last thing Elysande wanted to d
o. Since Uncle Geoffrey wasn’t here, she would wait and share her news when he was present.
“I think I would make for dull company, Merryn. Why don’t you take Alys with you? I know she’ll be leaving soon for London. The two of you should spend time together.”
Merryn placed her hands on Elysande’s shoulders. “You must put your sadness behind you. Michael must be hurting as much as you, but he doesn’t have the luxury of moping about. He will fulfill his obligations and live up to his code of honor.”
Merryn then tried to offer some inspiration to the conversation. “You don’t think so now, Elysande, but court will be grand. You’ll live a different life and experience all kinds of wonderful new things. You’ll be together with your sister. The queen will look out for you both. And you should be happy for your mother, too. She’s not being asked to marry again and move to another estate. She’ll be able to stay at Hopeston for the time being and try to bring stability to the estate.”
Elysande nodded in agreement. “You’re right. It’s not just about me. I realize Michael suffers, too. He is a good man and will hold his hurt inside. I know he’ll treat his wife with kindness and never mention me to her.” Tears stung her eyes. “Because that is the man he is and why I will always love him. But I need a few days to adjust to everything, Merryn. My world has turned upside down.” She paused. “Please, take Alys with you on your visit to Winterbourne. I need the time to reflect and pray about matters.”
Merryn kissed her cheek. “I understand your need for solitude. Just don’t retreat too far within yourself.”
Alys entered the solar. Her mother smiled at her only daughter. “How would you like to go see Johamma today? You’ll return to court before we know it, so this will most likely be the last time to see her and Hardie before you travel to London.”
“Oh, I’d love to, Mother.” She glanced at Elysande. “Are you coming with us?”
“No, I have a few things to do here. Enjoy your visit.” Elysande excused herself and returned to her room.
But all she could see was Michael, whether her eyes remained open or were closed. She could feel his lips caressing her neck. Nibbling on her earlobe. His strong hands holding her buttocks as he rocked into her.
“Enough!” she told herself. She needed to get out. Focus on something besides her misery. She decided she would go to see Davy. After picking blackberries for him, she and Alys had visited the elderly man. He had been a bit of a rascal, flirting with both of them outrageously. It might do her good to walk about in the fresh air and sunshine and check on the elderly tenant.
Elysande made her way downstairs and stopped by the storeroom to collect a jar of blackberries in case Davy still suffered from the flux.
As she left the keep, she decided to first seek comfort where she always did—the stables. She knew the smell of hay and sight of the horses would help begin to mend her tattered soul. Elysande walked from stall to stall, greeting each horse that had now become familiar to her.
Then she reached an empty stall. Tempest’s stall. Seeing it was like a blade stabbing her heart. She blindly ran from the stables, her throat thick with unshed tears. She slowed and continued on her way, trying to calm herself and act in a mature manner. Elysande forced herself to wave to several people in greeting as she passed, doing her best to smile and put on a brave face.
As she went through the open gates of Kinwick, she decided to stop by the pasture and see Hera and Miracle since it would be on the way to Davy’s cottage. The sunshine beat upon her back, causing her to grow warm. She chuckled, thinking she might have to open Davy’s blackberries and steal a few.
She reached the pasture and set the jar on top of the fence as she leaned against it to watch Miracle run around under Hera’s watchful eye. The foal galloped up and down the fence line and then scampered playfully in circles, constantly turning to see if her mother saw her antics.
Elysande smiled at the bond between mother and child, but it once again caused her thoughts to swirl. Either she would never have the pleasure of bearing Michael’s child—or his seed already grew within her. She would never regret her rash action of making love with him before they wed, for she would always have the sweet memories of their love play. But being with child could complicate her plans of entering a nunnery.
She determined to leave the matter in God’s hands.
A stick snapped and caught her attention. Elysande turned toward the noise. A sudden, blinding pain caused her to stumble.
Then all went dark.
*
Geoffrey entered the great hall. As always, his eyes swept it for a sign of Merryn. She’d been the shining light in his mind all the years he had been imprisoned in the dungeons at Winterbourne. He could have given up and chosen to die many times but willed himself to go on so he could return to her. Spotting her in conversation with Tilda, he headed toward the pair.
Alys fell in to step with him. “We went to see Johamma today.”
He laughed. “Already? And did your mother happen to set eyes upon Ancel?”
His daughter nodded. “She did. Johamma took us on a walk. We happened to come across the pages as they polished armor.”
“I hope your mother didn’t embarrass Ancel in front of his friends.”
Alys giggled. “Nay, Father. We merely nodded a greeting and went on our way. But Ancel was pleased. I could tell by his smile.”
“And your mother?”
“She didn’t smile until we were gone from their sight.”
He ruffled Alys’ hair. “We’ll leave for London soon. Are you ready to go back to life at the royal court?”
Alys grew thoughtful. “You know I love Kinwick, Father, but I’m enjoying my time with the queen. She is so wise. I have much to learn from her.”
“There you are,” Merryn said.
Geoffrey swept up her hand and pressed a kiss upon her fingers before he turned her hand over and dropped another one upon her palm. He loved the tingle of pleasure that trickled through him. He gave his wife a smile that promised her more than kisses tonight.
“May I escort you to the dais?” He offered an arm and led her to her seat. He glanced around. “Where is Elysande?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did she go with you and Alys to visit with Johamma?”
“No. She believed she wouldn’t be good company.”
Geoffrey frowned. “I know she’s terribly unhappy, but brooding will do nothing to solve her situation. I won’t have her sulking in her room during the remainder of her visit here. I intend to find her and make it clear that I expect her to come to the great hall at once to dine.”
Merryn pulled on his arm, forcing him to sit next to her. “Look at it from her point of view, Geoffrey. Michael is lost to her. For all time.” She gave him a pointed glance. “I know how she feels. I lost you for seven years, never knowing if you would return to me. I had no idea where you’d gone. At least Elysande can be comforted because she knows Michael is safe. Even if he will soon be in the arms of another woman.”
Geoffrey leaned over and gave his wife a tender kiss. “I’m sorry, my love. You’re right.” He stood. “But I will go and coax her to come and eat something. She needs to see that she has her family’s support.” He kissed Merryn once more and rose. “I’ll be back soon.”
He made his way to Elysande’s chamber and rapped on the door. When he didn’t receive a response, he pushed it open and found the room empty. Puzzled, he returned to the great hall.
“She wasn’t in her room,” he told Merryn. “I’m concerned.” He motioned Hammond over.
“Have you seen Lady Elysande recently?” he asked.
“Nay, my lord.”
“Go look for her. Bring her back at once.”
“Check in the stables and out in the pasture,” Merryn suggested. “She takes solace in the horses. It wouldn’t surprise me if you find her there.”
They began the meal, but Geoffrey had a nagging feeling that something was amiss.
He kept watching the door, waiting for Hammond to report back.
The soldier returned as Geoffrey finished his wine. “I couldn’t locate her anywhere, my lord. I spoke to everyone I passed. No one has seen Lady Elysande for some time.” He held up a jar. “But I found this to be odd. A jar of blackberries sitting atop the fence in the pasture near where Hera and her foal frolicked.”
Merryn reached for Geoffrey’s hand. “Elysande went with Alys to take blackberries to Davy a few days ago. Mayhap she went to see him again and lost track of the time.”
“And forgot the very blackberries she took?” Geoffrey demanded. A sinking feeling washed over him. Grimly, he said, “I fear she’s been taken from us. And I’m certain Lord Ingram is behind it.”
Chapter Nineteen
The horse finally stopped. Elysande felt herself being lifted from it by strong hands. She’d been thrown stomach down across the saddle and bounced about for more hours than she could guess. Nausea rose and she began to gag.
“Quick! Get the sack from her head,” a voice warned.
Someone stood her on her feet and ripped away the rough burlap sack that had been placed over her head, falling down to her waist. She tried to draw in deep breaths of the night air. Her stomach roiled again as she swayed unsteadily.
“Cut the gag, you fool. If she drowns in her vomit, where will that leave us?”
A hand tightened about her arm from behind. As she blinked, a man pulled a baselard from his waist and cut away the gag that had kept her from calling out for help. She fell to her knees, her hands still bound in front of her. Elysande rested the heels of her hands on the ground to steady herself as she leaned over and was sick. Spent, she rolled to the ground and lay panting.
She got her first look at her captors. The one who had cut away the cloth bound around her mouth was tall and thin as a maypole. He wore a sour look on his face. The other was short and stout, with narrow lips and dark eyes that studied her. It was the second one that yanked her to her feet and marched her to a tree. He pushed her back against the trunk.