She turned to him. “He’s a little imp.”
“Little! Lisbeth. He’s a mastiff and as big as my horse.”
His eyes were bright with laughter and his smile was warm and inviting. She gave him a thorough look. He had dark wavy hair and gray eyes with a sparkle of humor. His casual smirk gave him a charming devilish look. Her gaze roamed down his shoulders to his broad chest and muscular arms. He may not have maintained the castle as he should, but what man would? He focused on taking care of the farmers and villagers. They thrived. She wondered if his broad shoulders ever tired of the burden he carried. He looked like he could take on anything. How did the dog put him off?
The mastiff’s head popped up. He let out a gentle woof. Lisbeth snapped her fingers and the dog laid back down.
The aroma that filled the hall made her mouth water. No one had to announce the arrival of dinner. Her mother’s kitchen had been renowned for its delicious meals, and she was her mother’s best student. The meals she’d eaten these last weeks were not unfit. The cook had done a good job—for a field cook. She had shooed him out and, with Ann and Eve, put the evening meal together. Now she sat back and waited.
Servers brought platters of fresh game into the hall and set them in front of Alex and Lisbeth. The artful yet conservative presentation of the food along with the delicate aroma of spiced meat grabbed everyone’s attention.
“I hope the food’s to your liking. You told me I could do anything. I gave you back your field cook.”
Lisbeth nodded to the server. He carefully placed pieces of game with a honey and ginger glaze onto Alex’s trencher.
His nostrils flared as he savored the spicy and tart fragrances. “Delicious.”
“You’ve not tasted a thing yet,” she teased.
“If the meal tastes anything like it smells, it could only be delicious.”
Her smile deepened into a rich laugh.
*
Alex did not miss how Lisbeth directed the dinner service with barely a nod. She would do him well when the king and his family arrived. He held his cup, which was magically kept full. He sat back, soaked in the atmosphere, drank his ale, and observed her over the rim of his tankard.
With her eyes closed, she popped a piece of meat into her mouth and savored the morsel. The tip of her tongue ran along her lips to capture the glaze.
He froze. He found himself studying her mouth. His eyes raked boldly over her. He downed the ale and held out his cup for more. There was little time left. Sooner or later he would have to tell her she was his wife.
Chapter Seven
In the late evening, Alex closed the last of the estate journals. One task done. He could hear the pounding of his heart in his ears. He hadn’t confronted Lisbeth about their marriage. He put up every obstacle in order to delay. He raised every excuse he could find but in the end he knew what stopped him. Fear she would reject him. How had he gotten in this mess?
The king’s message on the top of a very orderly pile of papers on his desk caught his eye. The bold red seal screamed for attention. He thought about the last time he saw King Edward.
“Alex, are you still here?” King Edward came out of his private apartment.
Alex uncurled to his full height from the hard bench. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Early in the morning a royal messenger had pounded on his door and rousted him out of bed. He had handed Alex the summons. The king demanded Alex attend him. But that was hours ago. He had planned to leave this morning as soon as the castle gates were open, and instead had spent the day suffering in the small antechamber. The room filled and emptied several times while he paced, cursed and finally sat and waited. His anger long gone, he was resigned to the whim of his king.
“Where is everyone?” The king looked around the room. He had a surprised look on his face.
Alex followed the king’s gaze. “It seems, sire, I’m the last one left. You wanted to see me—this morning.” Alex approached the king.
Edward’s face gave nothing away. His slow, mischievous smile annoyed Alex. What was the man up to?
“Yes, Alex. Come with me.” The king treaded the well-worn carpets with a lively step and led Alex up one hall and down another until Alex was certain they would end up back at the king’s chamber. “Ah, here we are.” The king threw the doors open revealing a large party. Everyone quieted and made way for His Majesty.
One courtier’s voice rang out. “To the bridegroom.” Alex looked startled. Who was the bridegroom? Then the chaos began.
Alex, accompanied by King Edward through the tumult, was the center of attention. His back was pounded and his arm pumped by anyone close enough to touch him. When they got through the room, the king’s man brought the crowd to silence when he pounded his staff on the floor.
“Lord Alex,” said Edward. “Say goodbye to your bachelor days. Tonight you marry.”
Alex felt the blood drain from his face. He quickly summoned up his control to stall the display of any emotion.
“You’ve succeeded where the others have failed. Every other protector I’ve sent to Glen Kirk has gone missing. Was it Lady Lisbeth’s beauty and charms that kept you there?”
The mention of Lisbeth’s name among this crowd made his temper rise. The room exploded in loud laughter. A flurry of activity left Alex draped in flowers and propelled onto the small dais where a veiled woman stood attended by two others. Alex glared at the king.
Edward leaned close to ensure only Alex heard. “If only you could see your face.”
“A word, sire,” Alex asked in a controlled quiet tone.
“You have my full attention,” the king said softly as he nodded recognition to courtiers.
“There was no mention of a marriage.”
“And your point?”
“Sire, I’m certain I will marry, but it will be to a woman of my own choosing.” Alex held to a thin glimmer of hope that this was all a bad hoax.
The king’s expression turned hard. “Do you doubt my judgment?”
Alex looked at his king and knew all was lost. “No, sire.” He bowed his head slightly in submission. “But would you reconsider?” He could hear the desperation in his voice.
“You know I have your best interest at heart.” Edward paused. “Would you give me Glen Kirk as forfeit?”
He imposed an iron control on his face. “I am grateful for your choice of wife, sire. I am a fortunate man.” Alex bowed. He would never give up Glen Kirk.
The king straightened, clapped him on his back, and boomed in a loud voice, “Come, you’ll be married to your Lisbeth by proxy. I’ve arranged everything.”
Alex was certain he had. He smiled through clenched teeth.
“Lord Alex.” The king ushered Alex in front of a meek little man who hardly fit the elegant robes he wore. Two of Alex’s brother’s, Bennett and Cameron, moved out from the crowd and joined him.
“Easy, Alex,” said Cameron. “The king’s entertainment will soon be over.”
Alex stood there seething. The robed man went on and on but Alex stood rigid and remote. Glen Kirk was worth the inconvenience of a wife.
“Kneel, sir,” the robed man, sword in hand, demanded of Alex. “Kneel and prepare for the sword of courage.”
“Watch that sword of yours, Alex. You won’t need courage, more likely stamina. I suspect you’ll be thrusting it all night,” shouted someone, sending the crowd into peals of laughter.
Every muscle tightened but Alex forced a bland disinterested expression on his face while deep down he raged. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bryce standing by the door. A silent signal passed between them.
“Steady, man,” cautioned Bennett.
“Take your rightful place and humble yourself before your king and maker. As you bravely and solemnly come here today, you have shown to all present that you are worthy and ready to care for this woman your king has chosen for you, from this day forward. To take thy woman’s hand is an act of bravery only supplanted by the call to
arms”
“Is it war he enters or Lady Lisbeth?” Another roll of laughter passed through the room.
Husband or not, Lisbeth was Wesley’s daughter. Her name would not be dragged into this farce. He turned to the crowd and gave them a hostile stare.
The effect was immediate. The raucous talk quieted at once.
“Do you understand and accept this, sir?” The little man couldn’t hide the fear in his voice.
“Sure he does—now get on with it. There’s no wine until this is over.”
The king gently nudged Alex.
Alex glanced at Edward and saw something honest in his gentle smile. The edge smoothed off his anger. He turned to the holy man. “Yes, I understand.”
The sword was too heavy for the man to handle. The tip came dangerously close to Alex’s neck but he didn’t move. Cameron quickly interceded and helped place the blade on Alex’s shoulder.
Alex gave his brother a scathing look.
“Mother would never forgive me if I let someone lop off your head,” he whispered.
“Three times I tap thee, once in the name of our King…”
A shout rang up from the attending audience.
“…once in the name of our bishop, and once in the name of our holy protector. Now that you have knelt and been christened and tapped, I declare thee ready to receive your bride.”
The king squeezed his shoulder. The veiled woman approached. “My dear.” The king took her hand and drew her next to Alex.
With all the solemnness the little man could muster he began. “We are gathered here to join this man and this woman in a binding of life. At this day of binding, if any man declares any reason why they may not be coupled together, speak now.”
“It is all well with us—let them marry,” responded the crowd in unison.
The man turned to Alex. “Sir, do you take this woman who represents Lady Lisbeth Reynolds, daughter of the late Lord and Lady Reynolds to wife?”
Alex gave the obligatory response but he didn’t hear the rest of the ceremony.
“Lord Alex, I said you can kiss the bride,” said the frightened man.
The room was quiet. Whispers went through the room. “Who is she?”
“Well, Lord Alex? Do you need instructions?” The king’s words sent a ripple of laughter through the room that soon turned into a tidal wave.
With a smile on his face that didn’t reach his eyes, Alex gently unveiled his proxy wife. There staring at him with wide blue eyes and a lovely smile was Lady Barbara Kincaid.
She looked at him boldly. Another roll of laughter filled the room.
He gave her a nod. She was still a beauty after all the years.
“I know you did not brood when I declined your proposal.”
“No, m’lady. There was nothing to brood over. You were merely a youthful dalliance that was quickly forgotten.”
Barbara’s eyes widened at the insult. “Alex, is there someplace we can speak?”
“No, m’lady. I know of none.”
“Did you really vow to never take a wife?” asked another faceless voice in the room.
He looked at Barbara. She had a pleasant smile on her face. How well trained she had become in the ways of the court. She covered his affront with poise.
“I stand here ready to marry Lady Lisbeth. Does that answer your question?” Indeed he had vowed to never marry. The humiliation of his youthful blunder and her not-so-private rejection spread through court like a spring storm. He hadn’t enough words to thank his father for quickly getting him a commission with a regiment that left for Wales.
“We heard all about your brave deeds in Wales. You returned to us much changed,” said Barbara.
“Come on, Alex. Kiss the bride so we can get on.”
After four long hard years he had returned to London to find Barbara willing to renew their friendship. He had no interest.
Barbara moved with lightning speed, threw her arms around him, and kissed him deeply, to the enjoyment of the crowd.
He stood cold as a statue against her assault. “Let’s finish this entertainment, m’lady. I’ve important matters that need my attention.”
The spectacle over, the bride and groom mingled with the crowd.
“Alex,” his brothers Bennett and Cameron pulled him to the side. “We had no idea you were the intended groom. If we’d known, we would have gotten you away. We thought you and Bryce had left for Glen Kirk early this morning.”
“That was our plan but the king summoned me.” He nodded and flashed a tight-lipped smile at the people who walked by and congratulated him. “I leave for Glen Kirk as soon as I can, if I have to wake the king’s guard to open the gate.”
“We’ll go with you.”
He gave his brothers a penetrating stare. Finally, he relaxed. “No, you both stay here and enjoy the entertainment. But thank you for the offer. Bryce rides with me.” Alex headed for the door.
“Where are you going, Lord Alex? Aren’t you staying for your wedding feast?” asked Edward, who stood by the door speaking to Howard.
“No, sire.” He laughed as if amused. “I have a long journey to be with my wife.”
He watched Cameron sidle up and lead Barbara away. Both were quickly lost in the crowd.
A shiver of unease crossed his back. He focused on the king’s message still on his desk. He’d been back at Glen Kirk for weeks, and he still hadn’t told Lisbeth she was his wife. He let out a loud sigh. He could wait no longer. What would he say? He paced in front of the hearth. His quick mind was blank. He should have told her when he first arrived. He saw that now.
Chapter Eight
It was a warm day for October. Lisbeth stepped out on the terrace ready to harvest the last of the berries. She planned to take advantage of the unseasonably mild weather. The hunters had brought her a brace of ducks and she wanted them served with a berry glaze. She knew the most succulent ones were on the other side of the garden wall. But all morning she had felt a compulsion to go to the lodge. Perhaps she could pick a few berries there; that’s all she needed. The mix would be perfect with the duck. If she went quickly no one would miss her. She stood still. She had the feeling that eyes bore into her back. She turned and found Bryce stepping out from the library’s terrace doors.
“Good day, Lisbeth.” He joined her in the garden.
“Bryce.” She forced a smile and gave a brief nod.
“I’ll walk with you.” He relieved her of her basket, abruptly caught her elbow, and firmly escorted her down the path. “I wanted to speak to you.”
They strolled among raised flower beds, trellises of roses and down paths of neat hedges. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves. The polished charms in the trees caught the sunlight and twinkled like fallen stars among the branches. She glanced at Bryce. The expression on his face gave nothing away.
“It’s time we called a truce.”
“A truce?” She stopped, but he gently tugged and pulled her along.
“Yes. We appear at odds with each other over something I cannot even remember. Let’s let bygones be bygones. What say you?” He gave her a polite, unemotional sideways glance.
His aloofness unsettled her. “Of course, Bryce, I don’t think anything’s wrong. We simply grew apart over the years. We just travel on different paths.”
He stopped and she glanced up at him, and for a moment saw him as the boy she grew up with and her brother’s good friend. Her brow wrinkled with the memory of her and Laura shadowing the boys when they were children.
“You’re deep in thought. It must be something serious.” He moved her along the path.
“I was thinking of Richard, and how Laura and I plagued you. We watched you train with father’s sword master and cheered for you both.” She heard the melancholy in her voice.
He escorted her to a nearby bench and sat with her. “Yes, it was all very confusing at times. You cheered as loud for me as you did for your brother. It seemed whoever made a good hit got the cheer.” Th
ey sat in silence for a few moments.
“Do you remember—” he turned to face her, “—why your father’s sword master was training us?”
“You and Richard took swords from the barracks and were practicing—at least that is what you told Father. I don’t think I ever saw him so angry. When he asked you to explain, you told him you both wanted to be great knights.”
“You know it took us a long time to forgive you.”
The shock of discovery hit her full force. “How did you know I told Father?” She brought her hand to her throat. She had had a vision the day she watched them fight. It was a vision she would have later and would prove true. She had never told anyone that she’d seen Richard die by the sword. Not then. All she knew was she had to make them stop, so she ran to her father. She closed her eyes.
“Not to worry.” He patted the hand in her lap gently. “We weren’t happy at the time. Your brother did not have nice words for you and—” he sighed, “—neither did I.” He bent his head toward her. “Not very knightly, I assure you. The sword master taught us much about the weapon, fighting and ourselves. In the long run you did us a favor.”
“Yes, you both were different after that, more grown up and more responsible.”
“You miss him. Richard, I mean.”
“Yes.” Her voice was a whisper.
The vision had recurred for days. She saw her brother on the Welsh battlefield and witnessed the killing blow. At first she thought it was a nightmare, but something inside her told her she saw the truth. Panic robbed her of contentment. Lisbeth sobbed when she told her mother. But there was no denial, no disbelief. She looked into her mother’s eyes and realized her mother already knew. She didn’t shed a tear when the official word came from the king that Richard was dead. She had already shed them all.
“Aye, I miss him, too,” said Bryce.
She looked at his somber profile and saw a different man. They sat in silence, each deep in thought.
“Well, I came to see Alex.” They both got up. He took her hand, brushed her knuckles with his lips, and tucked her arm in his. He set their course for the terrace.
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