The Lady of Fairhaven

by Lee Scott

  Oliver’s sickening smile gaped open to the width of a bass in pursuit of a tasty worm. With eyes widened with shock, he stood silently, attempting to gain some sense of Luke Thornburgh’s words.

  Luke turned his back on the odious man, allowing a moment to steady himself once again. “Let me offer you a brandy. Mayhap we can gather some strength from it.”

  Luke poured two small goblets full of the rich brew. Taking his time to complete the task, he calmed his inner turmoil even more. Oliver could present a formidable barrier to his future happiness with Gillian.

  Luke never saw Gillian arrive silently at the door, but Oliver did. He hurriedly walked over to Luke and positioned himself so that the knight would not turn to see the young widow.

  “Your request is preposterous!” Oliver blurted out. “I forbid you from seeing her in the future.” Oliver watched the shock on Gillian’s face fade rapidly to intense pain. Oliver’s thin smile returned with his triumph.

  “Furthermore, your family would no doubt find such an alliance hateful. It was Gillian’s presence alone that resulted in your illustrious father’s death. Was it not? Your family would be more than grateful for me to take her off your hands. And may I remind you that she is, after all, a widow? Propriety demands a period of mourning.” Oliver’s stubborn chin raised. He saw the trail of tears running down Gillian’s cheeks and was satisfied she had probably heard enough. “I forbid any such thoughts of you entertaining the notion that Gillian will be available for any attentions by your family. Clearly, it would result in some harm to my niece.”

  Any hope for the future drained out of Gillian’s reach. Gillian silently turned and fled up to her room.

  Satisfied with his performance, Oliver turned and walked away from Luke. Gillian most certainly would not wish to have further dealings with this family when she realized how they must hate her. He felt triumphant.

  “Sir Oliver,” Luke said. He placed a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “I believe I can convince you to allow me the opportunity to court your niece.”

  “Nothing you might say will change my mind. You’re insistence is remarkable when I have made my objections clear.” His face reddened at the audacity of the young man standing before him.

  “I believe my arguments can sway you,” Luke said forcefully.

  “I am not interested in your arguments. I am weary from the past events and I wish to retire,” Oliver said as he turned once again to leave the room.

  “What I have to say will be brief, and you shall hear me out, Sir.” Luke’s hand pinched the shoulder of the retreating man and held him painfully in place.

  “What is the meaning of this? You have no right to hold me thus. If you wish to challenge my honor, then do so. But I must insist that you unhand me,” Oliver hissed. His flushed face drew tight with flaming emotions.

  “You will hear me out, and then you may again choose to reject my offer for your niece’s hand,” Luke said with a voice nearly growling with fury. “It was the work of your leman who designed the abduction of Lady Gillian on more than one occasion. She alone would not be able to engage the brigands involved without a knight’s assistance.”

  Oliver visibly blanched at the mention of his leman’s involvement, knowing he was her overlord and would be held accountable for her actions.

  Oliver stiffened slightly then said, “The stupid chit, like so many others was unfaithful and brought this misdeed to fruition through her own actions. I cannot be held accountable for her.” He looked straight into Luke’s steady gaze, finding strength in his own declaration.

  “And that would indeed be the case if the man responsible for the heinous crime had not been found here at Fairhaven.”

  “Remember, Sir, your men are also quartered here,” Oliver declared.

  “Aye, that is true,” Luke said pensively, “But he was counted among yours by his own admission.”

  “Well, it is of no matter. The king will never approve of such a match. It is highly improper to see a widow wed so early in her mourning and certainly not to her son”

  “Agreed,” but there are circumstances for which I believe he will agree to the marriage, that is if you agree,” Luke said.

  “And why should I agree?” Oliver asked.

  “If you give your consent, I will withhold my information of your involvement in Gillian’s abduction.”

  “And why would I think you should change your mind later after you have received that which you desire?” Oliver asked.

  “Because I am giving my word of honor. I have not yet failed to honor it.” Luke answered.

  “Very well!” Oliver said. “You have me at a disadvantage. I have little choice but to agree to your terms. But I still doubt you will receive a royal blessing.”

  “Excellent!” Luke said. He was purposely ignoring Oliver’s warning. “But understand this. If you negatively affect the king’s decision in any way whatsoever, I will share the details of what I know about your involvement, after I have killed you.”

  Oliver cringed. It was a new experience for him. He had always been a warrior knight: always mightier than those around him he chose to challenge. He had never been at the mercy of another. It was a feeling he never wanted to replicate.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The sun had risen and already Gillian felt as though she had worked a full day. Awake half the night, she had packed most of her older gowns for her trip. These had been the ones she left behind when she met her husband. Now he was dead and she had no future.

  A tear fell down her cheek again as it had so many times in the past few months. Never before had she felt so out of control of her life, and never before had she been so unhappy. Determined to leave this emotional quagmire, Gillian was ready to leave both of these infuriating men behind.

  The thought occurred to her that she would never make her destination. After all, she had tried on several occasions and had failed miserably. This time she was resolved to take a worthy escort. She now was the widow of a lord and that alone gave her some power to determine her own fate. At the moment her fate excluded seeing either Luke or Oliver.

  Both had ripped a chunk of her heart away. Although she had to admit she felt less animosity toward Luke. After all, he had tried to keep her chaste. In that she should be happy. So why did she only feel pain?

  For now, she wanted some distance between her and these men who had the power to inflict pain. She was close to being on her way. What meager belongings she possessed were packed in trunks and the guard was assembled. As painful as it might be, she had no intention of dislocating any servants. Her departure from her family home would be clean.

  Luke and Oliver stood stone faced in the courtyard. The two men barely could speak amiably to one another, but there they stood, ready to complicate her life, once again. Gillian had no intention of listening to another word either spoke. Her heart was filled with far too much pain to wish for another slice to be cut off.

  Luke was the first to approach. “Gillian, where are you going?” he asked. His face was tight and the ticking pulse popping out from the clenched jaw was a familiar sight.

  “I am going away,” she said. “I have no intention to be a burden upon anyone. I will not stay where I am not welcome.” An odd quaver warbled in her voice, and she stopped for an instant.

  “You are wanted!” Luke insisted. The mask of indifference he normally wore in public had cracked and concern and pain shone out from his eyes.

  Gillian’s hand went up to halt his words and she looked away. “Oliver is right. I would be despised by your family,” she said. Her eyes met the triumphant glimmer marking her uncle’s expression. Her head shook slowly in disbelief. “I thought love might be enough for me. I had even hoped you…” She could not finish. Her eyes filled.

  “Gill! Dear God don’t leave now.” Luke searched for some positive sign but only found the pain he had imposed on his love.

  “Why should I not?” Gillian asked.

  “I can
not reveal everything now. Please stay,” Luke pleaded.

  “I am going to my Aunt. And after some rest, I shall make my way to the abbey. There, I will take my vows.” Her hand brushed gently against Luke’s cheek. Against her better judgment, she leaned forward slowly and whispered in his ear. “I love you more than I have loved anything else in my life. I will never love anyone else so well. It is best for your family and for me to go to the abbey where I can try to heal a heart that may be broken beyond repair.” Gillian brushed her lips gently against his stubble, roughened skin.

  Oliver stepped forward. “Gillian. You must stay here where I can protect you.”

  “Uncle Oliver,” Gillian began, “You care naught for me. I am giving orders that you may not step forth at Fairhaven beyond today. Luke will have it as my husband had wished. If you return, I have given orders for you to be looked upon as an intruder and treated as such. I suggest you pack your belongings and leave.”

  Gillian’s regal posture and bearing stirred something inside Luke. She had taken a stand. At least there was some fight within her. He had every intention to follow and pursue his intentions. Whatever pain she was suffering, he was certain his heart was injured tenfold. Luke believed his stinging eyes actually pooled with tears, but that would be impossible because knights never cried.

  Simon assisted Gillian to her seat on her mare. She had refused to take Buttercup saying it was too painful to remove the beast from Fairhaven. She sat astride the rather unremarkable palfrey that Oliver had presented to his leman. Luke watched as Gillian attempted to erase any trace of her presence at Fairhaven with her quiet departure.

  His only hope now was the king. Certainly his missive had arrived at court and the king would be responding. He expected his brother to plead his case and prayed he had successfully argued for him.

  It had been four days since Gillian had left his protection. Impatiently, Luke waited for word from his messenger. The man carried a missive to Gillian requesting the opportunity to see her once again. His return was imminent.

  As if on cue, a rider approached the gates of the keep. Since the recent events the gates remained closed, and only those known to the gatekeeper allowed entrance. This rider was indeed familiar and the heavy gate was raised.

  “I come bearing a message for Sir Luke Thornburgh,” the man announced.

  His horse heaved as the heavily mailed man slid down from the saddle. Lather foamed on the flanks of the destrier and the knight might have possessed the same if the sweat on his brow was any indication. Both man and horse had worked hard to cover so much ground that day.

  Luke strode quickly outside the great hall and stopped a mere foot in front of his trusted messenger. “Do you have a reply to my missive?” he asked impatiently.

  “I fear not, my lord,” the man replied. For a moment he failed to make eye contact. He had failed in his mission.

  Luke’s eyes darkened. “Why not?” he growled.

  “It seems the Lady Gillian never arrived at the gates of her Aunt’s keep, my lord,” the messenger replied. He met Luke’s surprised gaze.

  “What do you say, sir?” Luke asked. Certainly Gillian had arrived safely at her Aunt’s castle. She had been trying to get there from the first day he met her. He could not make sense of this news. “Did you not see her along the way, then?”

  “Nay, sir. I did not. And there was no indication of foul play along the road. Although there was evidence of many travelers, the tracks could be a result of good weather for some time.”

  “I thank you for your effort. Rest and sup. Tell the cook to provide you with some bread and stew. I shall be taking some men with me to get to the heart of this mystery.”

  Luke barked orders to his men, hastening their loading of supplies. Destriers pranced in anticipation as their rider’s cargo was attached to the empty saddles. Armor was checked for imperfections and polished as well as broadswords sharpened. There would be no miscalculations in the hunt.

  In the middle of the ordered chaos, a knight approached the closed gate and announced his arrival. “I am here on the King’s business. Open your gates.” The knight handed a scroll through the thick iron gate.

  Luke ordered the gate to be opened. The mighty destrier pawed impatiently as the portcullis was cranked up. Finally, the animal charged forward, brushing past the guard and circled wildly near the destriers saddled and waiting. Luke stepped forward.

  “I see, sir, you have anticipated my arrival,” the knight said.

  “Please help me understand your meaning,” Luke responded.

  “The King requires your presence immediately.”

  “I am on a quest as you can see, sir. The lady of this keep has come up missing and we are sending a party out to look for her.” Luke said rather brusquely. He was trapped,

  The knight looked with impatience at the other knight standing in front of him. Then, he said, “My advice to you sir would be to obey the command of your King.”

  Luke’s hand went to his forehead in frustration. Knowing he had little choice, he shifted his mind to what could be done about Gillian’s disappearance. He would need few men to ride with him to court. The rest of his men he would be sent out in search of his lady.

  Although he had longed for an opportunity to lay his case before the king, he had always intended his bride to be would be standing at his side while he fought for their future.

  “Luke mounted Storm. The two giant destriers pounded their hooves in competition for superiority. Both knights reigned in their beasts and the creatures started out for the meadow beyond the gate.

  Luke and the King’s knight rode silently for some time ahead of the guards. The two spoke little as the countryside dissolved behind them. Finally, Luke’s frustration could bear no more test. “Are you aware of what matter the King wishes to speak with about?” Luke asked.

  “No.” the other answered.

  “It is just that my lady may be in grave danger, and I feel compelled to go to her if this summons is merely a routine matter.

  The knight smiled. “All of the King’s messages are of the utmost importance. His eye winked at the rider next to him.

  “Yes, I can clearly see the logic in it,” Luke said.

  Luke’s mind drifted to their stolen kisses. Her hair had smelled of fresh lavender when he had been so blessed to breathe in her sweet fragrance. And the skin on her face and hands were like silk, teasing his warrior-roughened hands. His hands fidgeted with Lightning’s leather reigns in frustration. How he longed to spur his steed into a full run to the place where Gillian hid.

  By day’s end, Luke sat uncomfortably rigid in the saddle. Storm responded impatiently, pawing and prancing as if waiting for an attack. The companion knight sensed Luke’s unease and ordered camp to be made for the night.

  Luke angrily tossed and turned. Unable to assist Gillian in whatever trouble had overtaken her, he lay wide awake, with his anger building every minute sleep eluded him. By morning whatever sleep had overtaken him was insufficient to improve his mood. He spent the following day as angry as the first.

  By the end of the third day, the troop had arrived at court. Insisting that the King had need of his presence as soon as he arrived, Luke was bound to appear straight away. Indeed he had no time to run his comb through his hair nor even remove his chain mail.

  Luke’s stride had eased as he neared his audience with the king. At least he could be on his way to locate Gillian as soon as he finished here. There would be little reason to keep him. Luke speculated that news of his father’s death had reached the sovereign’s ears, and he wanted to express his condolences and receive Luke’s pledge of allegiance to him. He half expected to find his brother in attendance.

  The thought of his dead father had tumbled over and over in his mind. Grief over losing his sire and despair over losing Gillian, perhaps for good, clenched his heart. He braced himself against the emotions he knew were to assail him over the next few hours. Outside the great hall, courtiers mill
ed around watching those entering and leaving.

  Whispered conversations enveloped him as he and the companion knight strode purposefully through the crowd. Intrigue and conjecture no doubt girdled this unkempt warrior’s presence at court. Ladies watched with lust hungry eyes as they spied their newest prey march forward toward the King’s chambers. A few emboldened maids made their way on an intersecting course, their generous breasts jiggling as giggles shook the ample flesh of several winsome ladies.

  Flattered by the attention, Luke smiled and nodded as he proceeded through the throng of ladies and lords. A few scornful looks greeted him as well. Unaccustomed to the look of a fast traveling knight, some ladies found his state of appearance unpalatable and turned away in disgust.

  Luke assured himself that his family had also been called to accompany him to the audience. His eyes scanned the room. Brocades, velvets, and silks of every hue tantalized his eyes. The low cut bodices and teasing lace tempted his manly desires even though Gillian held his heart.

  Somewhere in the crowd a gasp of surprise hissed over the din of murmuring prattle. Looking toward the sound, Luke found a vision in pale blue linen staring in shock at his visage. Her mouth formed a perfect circle as the color drained from her face. Plainly dressed in a gown that had been stitched up more than once, Gillian stood, starring at Luke.

  Luke veered toward her, blown off course as if at the mercy of some unseen gale. Gillian struggled to remain unmoved but her hand stretched out grasping a nearby arm and her fingers bit deep into the flesh of the lady standing close to her. The woman let out a subdued shriek as Gillian swiveled and retreated toward the large doors. In two quick steps, Luke reached Gillian and grasped her arms. His arms closed protectively around her waist as he held her lovingly in place.

  A shallow chirp of surprise wafted over the din of the crowd as his touch stopped her. Her mouth opened for speech but failed to release any sound.

  The companion knight swerved over to the two and attempted to redirect Luke back on his path. But Luke was undaunted in his mission to speak with the lady, for whom he had nearly driven himself mad with worry over for the past three days. Looking for some stability in a world spinning with noise and people, Gillian’s hands pressed against the solid surface of his chest. She forced her clutching hands to finally push away from the strength and protection of the knight’s hug.