“Peter, keep your elbow down. Darby, your right foot, bring it forward. Don’t give him your chest as a target.”
The boys had worked their way to the terrace doors. Peter stepped back to avoid a blow and pushed the doors open. They took their training to the terrace. Alex followed them.
Thick vapor poured out of their mouths as the cold air hit them. It didn’t slow them down. The boys kept up a quick pace. They were indeed very evenly matched.
Alex noticed that Peter was driving Darby to the back of the terrace. Did he intend to take the fight into the garden? Suddenly Darby’s sword was in the air and the boy’s arms windmilled. Peter stood with his sword at Darby’s chest and a satisfied look on his face. Darby hit the ground hard.
“Yield,” demanded Peter.
“Yield,” responded Darby.
Peter gave Darby his hand and helped him up.
“Good move, Peter. I forgot about the ice on the terrace.” Darby rubbed his backside. “I won’t forget again.”
Peter turned to Alex. “Thank you, sir. I’ve never beaten Darby before. He’s always outlasted me. How’d we do?”
“Peter, you knew about the ice on the terrace?”
“Yes, sir. I slide across it all the time. It’s there from late fall through early spring.”
“Good thinking.” He roughed the boy’s hair. “I’ll speak to Gareth and Robby. Now off with you both.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Alex turned and saw one of his soldiers approaching.
“M’lord.”
“Yes?”
“The captain reports coaches are approaching. He has sent an escort.” The man saluted and left.
Alex watched the boys march off with their swords over their shoulders in animated conversation. If only the situation with Lisbeth were as easy to resolve. He stepped into the garden and trudged around to the kitchen. Faith. He’d rather go into battle, or maybe just slide across the ice.
*
Lisbeth stood at the large kitchen table, mounds of onions and carrots scattered in front of her. One after another she chopped up the vegetables. The monotony suited her. She didn’t want to talk to anyone or think of anything. Her anger was spent but the questions remained.
How did this all happen? She had gone to the lodge to make certain Laura was safe. That’s all. Instead she had found Bryce there, hurt and in need of help. There were too many unanswered questions. How did he unsaddle his horse and draw up the water? How was he able to lay the fire? Where did all the blood come from? Puncture woods didn’t bleed that much. And how had Bryce recovered so quickly? It was only a few hours before that he had needed help back to Ravencroft.
She stopped, the knife poised. She was so stunned by Alex’s declaration that she hadn’t focused on what Bryce said. Sanctuary? She hadn’t asked him for sanctuary. She chopped some more. Her mind reeled as she remembered. Shock yielded quickly to fury. No wonder Alex had jumped to conclusions. They had both been manipulated.
“Lisbeth.”
She glanced over her shoulder. Alex was at the garden door.
“Walk with me in the garden.” He stood with his hands on his hips.
She would not be timid and pliable. In their place was determination and courage. She wiped her hands, took her cloak off the peg, and walked out the garden door. Alex led the way.
They wended their way to the middle of the garden. She took a seat on the bench in front of the garden house. She stared straight ahead with her hands tightly clasped in her lap and watched the muscles work in his jaw as they flexed with irritation. By the set of his shoulders she knew his back was tense. She had no thought to alleviate his discomfort. Alex paced in front of her. She thought he would wear out the small patch.
She stole a glimpse of him running his hands through his hair. She refocused her attention on her lap. How to tell him about Bryce?
He stopped in front of her. “Here,” he held out her leather pouch. “I believe this is yours.”
“Yes, thank you.” She took it from him and secured it to her waist. She said nothing else.
“Don’t you want to know where I found it?
“That won’t be necessary. I know.”
“Why did you leave the castle grounds? I gave orders before I left.”
She didn’t answer. She lifted her head and watched him.
“I want an answer.”
“Laura. I went to help Laura.” She answered so softly he appeared to struggle to hear her. How would he understand the drive that made her go to the lodge? Never again would she sit by, a spectator while the ones she loved died.
“You expect me to believe you went there alone knowing she might be in danger.”
“I didn’t think. I knew I had to go. If anything happened to her…”
“No, you didn’t think.” He nodded his head and once again paced in front of her.
“I am responsible for your safety—and the safety of everyone in this village, Lisbeth.” He spoke softly, but there was steel in his voice. “I will be obeyed. They look to you. You must set the example for the village.”
“Set the example.” She stood up so quickly he almost fell over. “Here I thought you were concerned about my welfare while all along it’s been about your own arrogant pride. Oh, I forgot, I’m your wife, your property, given to you by the king.”
She fisted her hands at her sides, feeling the heat of her anger rise into her cheeks. Livid, and not wanting to let it out, she turned, ready to storm away.
“Where are you going? I’ve more questions.”
“Well, I’ve no more answers. Not for you.”
He grabbed her and swung her around. Her arm, free of her cloak, displayed the raw scrape marks on her arm. “Who did this to you?”
His white-hot demand caught her off guard. “Bryce’s…”
“I’ll kill him for touching you.”
She pulled her arm away from him. “Is that what you do to people who take your property? Kill them?”
“You haven’t told me why you were at Ravencroft.”
“You haven’t asked.”
“Would you prefer Ravencroft to Glen Kirk?”
The very idea he would think she wanted to go to Ravencroft incensed her. “Don’t ask unless you’re willing to hear the answer. Anywhere may be better than Glen Kirk.” All she wanted to do was hurt him. She chose the only place he was unprotected—his pride. “Perhaps you can arrange for a proxy annulment.” Even she heard the venom in her voice.
“Annulment. Do you have any idea what you ask? You’d be ruined.”
“It would be worth it not to be your property.”
“Very well, we will discuss this after the king’s visit. But until then I expect you to perform all the duties of my wife. Your belongings will be moved into my room.” Before she could say a word he gave her a slight bow. “M’lady.” He was gone.
She stood in the garden and glowered at his retreating back. Had she gone too far? The farther away he marched the emptier she felt. There was no gathering mist or still water to warn her. Her hope for happiness was dashed. She stood in lonely silence, grief stricken and empty. She could still feel his touch when he explored and thrilled her body. How she wished the tenderness and caring he showed her in her dreams were a picture of the true man. She walked back to the kitchen. Silent sobs gathered in her throat while hot tears streamed down her face.
A soft rain fell as she spent her last tear. She stepped inside just as the gentle rain turned into a torrent. She passed through the now bustling kitchen. Solitude and quiet was what she needed. The back steps were a jumble of servants. She headed to the main staircase. She didn’t want to see or speak to anyone. She passed the library and estate room and quickened her step. She rushed through the front hall and up the stairs.
At the top step her foot caught the bottom of her gown. Her stomach plummeted as her arms windmilled. She tipped back to gain her balance and lost her footing. She felt herself falling when strong arm
s grabbed her and pulled her out of harm’s way. Alex held her tight to his chest. Safe. His rapid heartbeat, so familiar, comforted her. She lifted her head and made the mistake of looking into his eyes. Her heart fluttered in response. He took her mouth with a savage intensity. She didn’t struggle but was shocked by her own eager response to his lips. He pulled away and cupped her head to his chest. Relief flooded through her. Velvet. His lips were definitely velvet.
“Come, Philip, get out of the rain,” rang out a woman’s voice in the hall below.
Alex released her. “Faith,” he looked down at her. “Lisbeth, I wanted more time.” He stepped in front of her and moved to the top of the stairs.
“Alex,” she said in as reasonable tone as she could manage. She touched his arm lightly.
“We’ll talk later without accusations and threats. We need the truth between us.” He put his hand over hers and rubbed it lightly.
“Ah, there you are.”
Lisbeth and Alex stared down at an older couple. Ann stood ready to take their outer garments. From their dress Lisbeth knew they were part of King Edward’s court. The woman helped the man out of his wet cloak. They looked vaguely familiar.
Alex led them down the stairs into the foyer.
“Mother.” He let go of Lisbeth’s hand. The woman threw her arms open to receive him.
“Alex, we didn’t quite make it before the rain.” She smiled at Lisbeth. “Hello, my dear. Careful, I don’t want to get you wet.” Lady Stelton stepped away and shook out her gown.
“Sir.” He shook his father’s hand. Lord Stelton put his arm around his son and brought him to his chest.
Lisbeth noticed the broad smile on Lord Stelton’s face was an older version of Alex’s. A sign he would grow more handsome and distinguished with age.
“Son, it is good to see you.”
How strange to see him as a son, not a warrior and lord of Glen Kirk. She didn’t have to rub her stones to encourage harmony. The air was alive with good will. Reminiscent of when her parents were alive. She realized there were no tears, just a little melancholy—and remembrance of some very good times. She eased at the notion.
“I thought everyone was going to be here. Where are they?”
Lisbeth looked past the small group for the others.
“Your brothers and their wives ride with the king. They should be here tomorrow. Your sisters are in London. Perhaps next time they can join us.”
Alex took Lisbeth’s hand in his. His light strong touch sent waves of emotion through her. She felt his hand tighten. The surprise on his face matched hers.
He pulled her close. Already the heady sensation that sent her thoughts spiraling made her feel warm.
“Lisbeth, you remember my father and mother, Lord and Lady Stelton.” He moved her in front of him. His hand on her shoulder silently declared that she was his. “This is Lisbeth… my wife.”
She knew his touch would forever excite her. Perhaps there was hope yet.
“We were married by proxy by His Highness, King Edward.” He spoke in a tone filled with respect.
Lady Stelton looked at her warmly. Before Lisbeth could curtsy, Lord Stelton took her hand and kissed her knuckles.
“Yes, Alex, we know.” Lady Stelton turned to her daughter-in-law. “Lisbeth, it’s good to see you again. Welcome to the family. Thank you for opening your home to us.”
“You’re most welcome m’lady but…”
“Why don’t we go into the hall? I’m certain you’d like to sit on something solid that isn’t moving,” said Alex.
“Yes, Alex. Not moving would be good,” said Lady Stelton and took her son’s offered arm.
“Lady Stelton, where would you like me to put this?” asked the carriage driver, a large wrapped package in his arms.
Celeste Stelton turned to the driver. “Bring it into the Hall.” She turned to Alex and Lisbeth. “It’s your wedding present.” Alex led his mother away.
Lord Stelton offered Lisbeth his arm and tucked her hand through his. “She was adamant about bringing it. I hope you don’t mind. Family tradition and all that.”
“Of course not, m’lord. You have a very close family.”
“Yes, we enjoy each other’s company.” They followed Alex and Lady Stelton into the Hall.
“Come see what we’ve brought.” She waved Lisbeth over and faced Alex. “Go ahead, open it,” Lady Stelton told her son as she released his arm.
The package lay on the large table. Alex carefully unwrapped the object and let out a small gasp. “It’s the family crest, the one that hangs above our hearth.”
His father stood beside him. “It was in my keeping for the next heir. You knew it would be yours. It seemed fitting to bring it to you now.”
Lisbeth walked over the crest. “But Alex is not the heir.”
Philip looked at Alex. “This is a special situation. The crest goes to the seventh son of the seventh son. There have been times when it has lingered without an owner for decades.”
Lisbeth looked at the crest intently. It was a circle divided into six parts around a center design. “There seem to be pieces missing.”
Philip Stelton came up beside her. “This crest is hundreds of years old. It seems over time some pieces were lost.”
Tentatively she touched the icon. Her fingers glided around the outer circle feeling each grove. “It’s ancient.” She lifted her hand and gently touched the center. She quickly withdrew it, the strange tingling still running up her arm.
She ignored the curious stares that passed between Alex and his parents.
“It holds great significance,” she said to herself and reached for it again.
Alex gently stayed her hand. “Lisbeth?”
“Yes?” Her eyes were fixed on the crest.
“Lisbeth,” he said more urgently.
She searched Alex’s face and saw his concern.
“What a lovely room.” Lady Stelton glided around the Hall and briefly admired the tapestries. “Darla always had a good eye for needlework.”
Lisbeth was quickly diverted from the crest at the mention of her mother. “Yes, Mother enjoyed her sewing.”
“We were raised near each other and found ourselves at court together, very often sharing a room. We would hide out from everyone. We found if we were quiet we faded into the background and no one knew we were there. We would listen to everything, then go to our room—”
“—and make up stories to go with the snippets of information you gathered.”
“She told you about our escapades? How we would laugh.” She patted Lisbeth on the hand. “She was a good friend. Did she tell you about the time…”
*
From the far side of the Hall Alex caught the tinkle of Lisbeth’s laughter.
“You’re smiling, Alex. Where’s the grim crease in your forehead?” Lord Stelton teased when the women left the Hall in animated conversation. “She’s a beauty.”
“Who? Mother or Lisbeth?”
“Both, son, both. Lisbeth suits you.”
Ann entered with tankards of ale for the men.
“Ah, Wesley’s brew.”
“Actually, Father, it’s mine.”
Alex held his breath while his father savored the sample. He smelled the bouquet, slurped the ale over his tongue, and finally let the brew slide down his throat.
His father gave him a crafty look. “What did you add?
“I added hops to temper the sweetness and changed the proportion of herbs.”
His father took a long pull and nodded. “It’s good, Alex, very good.”
“I got the idea from a German soldier I met in Wales.”
“It works well. I didn’t think Wesley’s ale could be better, but I was wrong.”
Alex gave his father a smile. He sat in Lord Wesley’s high-back chair lost in his thoughts. “She seeks to dissolve the marriage and possibly leave Glen Kirk after the king departs.”
“A lover’s quarrel?” Philip drank the tankard d
ry.
“No, Father, outmaneuvered.” Alex hesitated, his tankard midair.
Philip scanned his son’s face. “All is not lost, son. Then she did not take the news well. It doesn’t surprise me. Howard told us about the wedding. Edward was a bit high-handed. I’m sorry I wasn’t in London—I would have tried to stop him.”
“Thank you, Father. I don’t think anyone could have stopped him.”
Philip put his tankard down. “But she’s had weeks to adjust.”
Alex stared into his tankard.
Phillip froze. “You did tell her as soon as you returned from London?”
Alex’s head popped up. He felt like a child being scolded. “Of course I told her. Just not right away. I needed to make certain she was ready,”
“You mean you needed to make certain you were ready.” His father let out a heavy sigh. “It will work out.” They sat in silence for a few minutes. “You’ll have a full house soon.”
“As I thought. We are prepared.” A flash of memory at how Lisbeth had directed dinner gave him confidence.
“Lady Barbara is with the king.”
Alex froze, his tankard midway to his mouth. “More of Edward’s retribution. In my own home? Wasn’t the proxy wedding enough?”
“I don’t think it’s retribution, son.”
“Forgive me, Father. If you will excuse me.” Alex stalked from the room. Had he heard pity in his father’s voice? If the king wasn’t knocking on his door he’d drop Lisbeth on Bryce’s doorstep along with Lady Barbara and accept the king’s offer in Wales.
*
The women sat in the solar while the baggage was brought up to the Steltons’ room. Celeste looked at the surroundings and went to the covered sewing frame.
“May I see?”
“Of course.” Lisbeth removed the cloth cover from her needlework.
Celeste examined the tapestry. “You’re needlework is beautiful.” She looked at it with great care. “There are tiny charms hidden in the trees,” she said with a gasp. “You need to look closely to see them. They’re a pleasant surprise.”
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