phantom knights 04 - deceit in delaware

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phantom knights 04 - deceit in delaware Page 38

by Amalie Vantana


  I was seated before the council when Luther was assisted into the chamber by two of his lackeys. The moment he saw me his face reddened.

  “Brother, I demand that this animal be arrested for his brutal attack upon me. I will accept nothing less than his immediate execution.” Luther’s gaze radiated pure hatred toward me.

  “Do be seated, Luther,” Eric commanded.

  The lackeys helped Luther into a chair as he winced and groaned as if he were dying.

  “What have you to say for yourself, Luther?”

  He stared at Eric as if he did not understand the question.

  Eric illuminated Luther to his meaning. “Your attack against Lady Eleanora in the forest this very day. What have you to say in your defense?”

  Luther’s jaw slackened before it hardened. “Lies! He is lying,” Luther said, pointing at me.

  “It is not only Willem’s testimony, but those of the Lady Eleanora, and Mistress Lundersen.”

  “They are in league against me. You know,” Luther said to Eric, “that your precious pup has always detested me. Has he not tried to attack me time and again? And still you take his word above mine. I am your brother!”

  “Yes, you are,” Eric addressed Luther directly, not looking at anyone else. “That is why it pains me to tell you that you will be leaving upon the next available vessel. Where you go is your choice, but you shall not remain here.”

  Luther’s mouth dropped open, his incredulity plain. King Frederick had never banished Luther, but made the palace uncomfortable enough that Luther would leave on his own. Eric had taken matters a step further. Luther was being rewarded his just desserts if you asked me, not that anyone would.

  “You cannot banish me. I am a prince! This is my home.” Luther’s chin rose as if he had delivered a proclamation that could not be refuted.

  “The king may banish whomever he chooses, Prince Luther,” Lord Adamsen said. “In this instance, he has sought the judgement of this council, and it has been judged best that you continue with your travels for a length of time. Say, six months to a year.”

  “You would send me away? You would choose the son of a lowly peasant over your blood?”

  Making to rise and knock Luther through the nearest wall, Eric stalled me by the lifting of his hand.

  “Your actions of this day are only the tipping point of why I am sending you away. You see, I know why you left Denmark.”

  Eric’s words caused Luther to stiffen. Looking between the brothers, there was some unspoken conversation happening, one which I did not understand.

  “Where is he, Luther?” Eric asked softly.

  Eric’s soft words ignited a fury within Luther. He slammed his palms against the table, leaning forward and sneering.

  “You know nothing!”

  “I know about his mother, and I know how she died. Where is the boy, Luther? If you will bring him to me I will make provisions for him.”

  Luther growled as he twisted around and kicked his chair. The large, heavy council chair tipped and fell upon its back with a loud crash. Every present council member was upon his feet in an instant, and the chamber door burst open. A handful of guards crowded the doorway.

  Eric held up his hand, halting the guards. “Everything is under control.”

  “That it is not, brother,” Luther sneered. “You are adamant about my banishment?”

  “It is not a banishment, Luther,” Eric informed him calmly. “You may return whenever you please, provided that you have changed your vile ways. If any more claims should come against you while you are in this court, then matters may be different.”

  Everyone watched Luther for his reaction, ready to spring forward should he make a step toward the king.

  Luther barked out a censorious laugh that halted as quickly as it began. “I will leave, but mark my words, brother. You will regret the choices that you have made.” Luther’s devilish gaze rested upon me. “All of them.”

  Luther marched out of the council chamber. While Lord Adamsen ordered two of the guards to keep a watch over Luther until his departure from Lutania, Eric lowered himself to his chair and buried his head in his hands. The weight of his ruling was evident to everyone standing witness. Eric had possibly made an enemy out of his brother, and Luther was not one to forgive easily.

  CHAPTER 10

  Luther being sent away gave me little comfort, for until he was gone Eleanora was still in danger. As I left the council chambers, it was no surprise that my feet marched me straight toward the queen’s salon where I knew Eleanora would be found. Walking through the corridors that separated the council from the family wing, my thoughts took a different turn. There was one conclusion to the issue with Luther, and that was for Eleanora to marry me. It would then be my right, as well as my duty, to keep her from harm. Peace settled upon me at the thought, and then I began to smile. Wedding Eleanora had been in my thoughts much more than I would admit, and the truth was that in my mind she belonged with me. She had from the moment that she dropped into my arms.

  The closer I came to the queen’s chambers, the slower my pace became. My father had always told me that women wanted romance. Romance was foreign to me, but for Eleanora, I would do my best.

  An hour later, I was pacing the library, hoping that she would not ignore my note.

  As I waited, doubts began to enter my thoughts.

  Could I be a husband when I had been determined never to shackle myself to a woman? Did I truly want to commit my life to another? Could I protect her as she deserved? Would I ever come to deserve her? The Lord knew that I was not deserving of her love, but perhaps she could come to care for me in time. Our births were not equal. She was born to privilege, I had to climb my way up to where I was.

  The truth was that I was nothing more than the lowly son of a respected tenant farmer. She could marry a prince…

  When the door opened and she stood upon the threshold, all doubt flew from my mind.

  “Willem?”

  She could not see me, for I had closed all of the drapes over the tall windows. The only light in the library came from the two candelabras that I had placed beside the table that held the flowers I had picked for her.

  She moved toward the table, leaving the library door open. I moved amongst the shadows, watching for her reaction. She picked up the small bouquet of pink roses. There was a little smile upon her lips as she lifted them to her nose, inhaling their scent.

  “Willem? If this is a trick, I will hit you with another book.”

  Laughing, I stepped into the light. Eleanora turned toward me, holding the bouquet before her as if it were a weapon.

  She had long since fixed her hair and changed her torn gown. She was now wearing an ivory gown with gold thread that sparkled in the candlelight. Between her black hair and blue eyes, I knew that our children would be handsome.

  Blinking in startled revelation, I shoved thoughts of children far away. That was not something I wanted. Not for many long days. Unless Eleanora wanted them, and then we would discuss the possibility. Thinking of the process that went with creating children caused me to squirm when her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

  “What have you to say to me?” she asked.

  “Will you consent to be my wife?” The words were out, and could not be retracted.

  As her eyes slowly widened, I wished that I could retract them. She appeared almost … angry.

  For a moment, her fleeing the room was the height of possibility.

  Glancing toward the door, my mind was calculating how many strides it would take for me to reach it before she could.

  Flowers struck my chest.

  Turning back to her quickly, she beat the bouquet that I had painstakingly chosen and arranged for her against me. I had even pricked my finger with a thorn trying to cut those stems.

  “You … vex … me!” She struck me after each word, the petals crushing and falling around our feet. She threw the bundled stems at my face.

  Dodging ar
ound them, I caught sight of her marching toward the door. Panicked, I ran toward the door and reached it just as she was about to stomp out. She squeaked as she leaped back as the door slammed shut.

  Leaning my back against the door, I was about to speak when a book struck the door beside my shoulder. Another came hurtling toward me, but I did not move. It struck my gut, but still I did not move away from the door. Two more books were thrown at me before I made a move toward her.

  When I captured her hands in mine, she kicked at my shin.

  “Release me!”

  “Not until you explain how I have offended you. I offered you my heart and you throw books at me.”

  She sucked in a quick breath, and then kicked at my other shin. “I am not your responsibility, Willem Nielsen! I am not yours.”

  “You are not, but I want you to be.” Releasing her hands, I placed my own against her cheeks. “I want you, Eleanora. To be my helpmeet, my constant companion, the voice of reason inside my head. My wife.”

  She opened her mouth, but I did not give her a moment to speak. Capturing her lips with my own, my assault upon her mouth was fierce. After months of denying what I wanted, the moment my lips touched hers, my passion for her took control. I swooped her into my arms. She wrapped her arms about my neck, pulling me closer as her lips gave as much force as my own. Carrying her until her back touched one of the bookcases, I gentled my assault, but Eleanora was having none of it.

  Burying her hands in my hair, she kissed me with so much passion that any thought of halting was as foreign to me as speaking French.

  When my tongue touched hers, she moaned into my mouth, and the sound reverberated throughout my body like a crashing of waves upon the shore.

  Dropping her feet to the floor, I forced myself backward, my breathing rapid.

  There was a glaze to her eyes as she watched me, her own chest heaving with breaths.

  “For all that is great and holy, marry me, Eleanora. Please.”

  She smiled, and then she was nodding, and I nearly dropped to my knees at her feet. I could kiss the hem of her gown, so full was my happiness.

  “Let us go to the king at once,” I said, holding out my hand to her. “I want us to be married as soon as the banns are read.”

  She placed her hand in mine. “That does not give us much time to prepare.”

  “To me it shall be an eternity.”

  Leading her toward the door, she halted, pulling me to a stop beside her. “My poor flowers.”

  “I shall bring you more, my love. I shall bring you flowers every time I come to you. You shall be like a queen, and I will strive to deserve you.”

  Eleanora placed her small hands on each side of my neck. “I do not require flowers, or to be treated as a queen. I need only your vow that you will never depart from me for long amounts of time. I do not believe that I could bear to be away from your side.”

  Smiling, though emotion burned behind my eyes, I leaned my forehead against hers. I did not want her to see how unworthy I was of her devotion. I did not want to risk her deciding against marrying me.

  “Never shall I stray too far from your side.” As soon as the words left my lips, I felt a moment of unease. That was a vow that I would most probably not be able to keep. But try to please her I would, and when I tried to achieve something, I usually succeeded.

  ****

  Eleanora and I were married in the cathedral in a private ceremony. King Eric and Queen Elisabeth graced our affair with their presence, though in secret. Luther had yet to depart Lutania, and had been ranting at Eric against me every chance that he found.

  Thoughts of Luther did not bother me on the day that Eleanora pledged her life to me, or as I vowed to protect her.

  The ceremony was simple, yet moving. Eleanora wore a light blue gown that seemed to match her eyes. She carried a bouquet of roses that I had sent to her only that morning. Eric had gifted me with a ring from a private collection of jewels to be placed upon Eleanora’s finger.

  After the ceremony was through and my bride was speaking with the queen, Eric pulled me aside and handed me a small black purse. Opening it, a gold ring dropped onto my palm. It had a raised emerald stone, and was more valuable than anything I had before held.

  “I cannot accept this,” I told him at once, trying to hand it back.

  “You would deny a gift from your king?” A humored brow rose as he watched me, knowing that I could not refuse him anything that he requested of me. Not only because he was my king, but because he was my closest friend.

  Placing the ring on my fourth finger on my right hand, it fit perfectly.

  “I shall treasure it,” I vowed.

  “Now, my friend, I believe that your lady awaits.” Eric clapped me on my shoulder before he joined Queen Elisabeth and the two of them departed the cathedral.

  Hand in hand, Eleanora and I left the cathedral, choosing to walk to the palace instead of take the carriage. She spoke of her heart’s desires, to have a family, a home of her own, and a small garden where she could grow vegetables.

  I added a garden full of flowers to her list.

  “So that you may pluck them?” she asked with a smile that warmed me.

  “Does it matter from where I find my offering so long as the thought comes from my heart?”

  She laughed and I knew that I had done right in marrying her. I could listen to her laughter for the rest of my days.

  “How many children do you want, Willem?”

  That was difficult for me to answer because I did not want to crush her dreams by confessing that I had no desire to ever have children.

  Eleanora went on without awaiting my reply, for which I was grateful.

  “I would like two. A boy who resembles his father,” Eleanora said, casting a shy smile up at me, “and a daughter.”

  “Who resembles her mother?”

  Eleanora’s face was wistful, hopeful, so I changed the direction of conversation, unwilling to dash her hopes and force her to regret her decision to marry me.

  “You spoke of a home. Do you not wish to remain in the palace?” I had no thoughts of ever leaving the palace. I would remain as long as Eric would allow.

  Leaving his service had never before been a question. What would I do if I did not serve my king? Be a farmer? Absolutely not. Eleanora deserved only the most lavish of home, a place that I could not provide for her without living in the palace.

  “A woman will always yearn for a place of her own, where she may be the mistress.” She reddened as she cast her gaze toward me. “Do not believe me to be ungrateful. Elisabeth is my dearest friend, and I would serve her the rest of my days without complaint.”

  “Though in secret you would always desire your own home,” I said, trying to understand her desires, though such wishes were foreign to what I wanted.

  My only desire had ever been to serve my king to the best of my abilities, but now that I had a wife, I was coming to discover that my wishes would have to be altered. Eleanora’s wishes should come before my own, but no matter what I felt for her, I could not place her wishes above my king.

  When we reached the palace, Marta was waiting for us. Glancing from Eleanora to Marta, I hoped that neither would create a spectacle.

  “Marta,” I said as we approached.

  She drew her stern gaze away from Eleanora. “I understand that I am to offer my felicitations. I do so.” Marta stepped forward and rose up, pressing her lips against my cheek. As she dropped down, she cast Eleanora a look that I did not care for.

  “Her majesty requests that you come to her salon upon your return,” Marta said, and then turned away and left us alone.

  Eleanora stared after her, and then up at me. “We should not keep her majesty waiting.” Eleanora started up the wide staircase without me.

  Catching her hand upon the third step, I turned her to face me. “You are my wife, Eleanora. I care for no other.”

  She smiled as she placed her hand against my cheek, but I cou
ld not tell if she believed me. She said nothing as she tucked her hand around my arm and we went to the queen’s salon together.

  Elisabeth and Eric were there when we entered the salon. Set upon the table was a feast. Elisabeth apologized to Eleanora that it could not be as grand as she would have liked, but with Luther still in the palace they chose to keep things private.

  Elisabeth, Eric, Eleanora and I spent a wonderful few hours feasting and talking. Eric regaled the ladies with stories of our escapades as children, while I sat back and enjoyed my wife’s laughter.

  When the sun had disappeared and the servants had entered to light the candles, Elisabeth began to take Eleanora away with her. I rose, unsure of what to say. Having never been married, I did not understand customs, especially not ones that involved a lady in waiting. Was Eleanora still to live in the women’s chambers? That would make our marriage quite cold.

  Hearing Eric’s laughter, I turned to frown at him once the ladies had left the salon. Eric collapsed into his chair.

  “You look as if your favorite toy has been stolen from you.” He rubbed his hand over his chin. “She is being made ready for you, my friend.”

  When all I did was stare, he laughed again. “It is custom for a maiden to be made ready to accept her husband upon their wedding night. She is being shown to her new chamber beside yours.”

  Feeling foolish, I sat and covered my embarrassment in drinking from my chalice.

  We waited for an hour before Eric said that he would walk with me to my chamber.

  When he halted outside a door it was not the one to my chamber. Eric patted my shoulder and then left me alone.

  Opening the door, I stepped inside, surprised when I saw my possessions placed around the larger chamber. There was an open door at the far wall and from it I could hear ladies speaking. When I heard Eleanora’s voice, I understood. Now that I had a wife, I required a larger chamber. Feeling a little foolish for believing that Eleanora and I would live together in my small chamber, I set to removing my coat and boots.

 

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