She was both surprised and hurt by his words. “I-I am not being selfish,” she insisted. “I simply want to go home. You cannot fault me for wanting to go home.”
He lifted a dark eyebrow. “Nay, I cannot fault you for wanting to go home, but I have repeatedly explained to you why it would not be a good idea,” he said. “Let me take it a step further. Let me tell you what will happen once Clan Swinton is able to return you to their stronghold. They will more than likely throw you in the vault or lock you in a chamber. You will be fortunate if you have a food or fire. They will treat you like a commodity, a bargaining piece, because that is all you will mean to them. I can only imagine they will try to ransom you but while they wait, each man in the clan will more than likely violate you in ways I will not describe. I think you understand what I mean. They have no such restraint and no reason to keep you pure and untouched while they await their ransom demand. Then, depending on who pays your ransom, you could be given over to another clan you do not know and those men might very well do the same thing to you. Are you understanding any of what I am telling you, my lady?”
Brighton was looking up at him, her eyes swimming in tears. “T-that is a despicable thing to say.”
“It is the truth.”
“Y-you could be wrong.”
“Then I will ask you this one last time – are you willing to take that chance? If you are, then I will return you to Coldingham tomorrow and you can take your chances. But know this; I will not return to save you again. If I leave you at Coldingham, I wash my hands of you and of my vow, because you clearly have no grasp of what I am trying to do – I am trying to help you. If you are too foolish to take that help, then I have nothing more to say.”
She maintained her focus on him, staring him down just as he was staring her down. It was will against will at this point and, to tell the truth, Patrick had no intention of returning her to Coldingham even if she asked it of him. He was willing to bank on the fact that somehow, someway, he was getting through to her so she understood what, exactly, her desire to return home entailed. It wasn’t a simple thing in the least.
He was hoping to scare her into staying. He could only pray she was smart enough to realize it.
After an eternity of staring at each other, Brighton finally broke away. Patrick watched as she quickly wiped at her eyes, flicking away any tears that might be bold enough to escape.
“T-then what will happen to me if I do not return?” she asked, looking into the fire. “I have no family and nowhere to go. What will become of me?”
He eased up his serious stance, relieved that she was at least considering what he was saying. In fact, he was vastly relieved and trying not to show it.
“I do not know,” he said honestly. “That is why I want to take you to Castle Questing and to my father. He will know what to do. Mayhap you will end up as a lady-in-waiting in a fine house or, mayhap, you will become a nurse to a family of children. There are many things for you, I think. You must not despair. My father will help you.”
He was trying to sound positive, as if there was hope for her future. It seemed to work because her tears eased. Whatever turmoil was roiling in her heart, he seemed to soothe the pain. It was actually quite kind of him to do it; giving comfort to a woman he didn’t even know. A woman who had fought him at every turn.
She dared to look at him again.
“T-then I suppose I should thank you for making me your burden, Sir Patrick,” she said. “It was a great presumption for Sister Acha to extract a promise from you to watch over me and you were kind to agree. I suppose a lesser man would not have.”
Patrick sensed that, finally, the hostile barrier was down between them. He hadn’t honestly been sure that would ever happen. Feeling the least bit more personable towards her, he took a step in her direction.
“I realize you do not know me,” he said quietly. “I do not know you and all we have really known of each other has been violent and sorrowful. But please be assured that I am an honorable man and I will protect you until it is no longer my duty to do so. You will be safe, Lady Brighton, I swear it.”
It was a chivalrous declaration. As Brighton gazed up into his pale green eyes, she began to feel something she’d never felt before. It was like a burning in her belly, a slow burn that spread throughout her limbs and caused her knees to shake. Looking into Patrick’s handsome face also caused her to feel a bit lightheaded and she had no idea why. Perhaps it was because she was upset and exhausted. Or perhaps she was simply being ridiculous. All she knew was that looking at the man made her want to collapse right into him. Quickly averting her gaze, she took a step away from him.
“I-I believe you,” she said, struggling against the giddiness. “I-I suppose I have little choice but to trust you. I do not mean it the way it sounds, but it is the truth.”
Patrick felt the warmth between them as well, something that sparked the moment he came near her and looked deeply into her eyes. In fact, even as she moved away from him, he couldn’t take his eyes from her, his gaze moving down that beautiful hair and noting her luscious womanly figure beneath the wool. He’d never seen finer and, more and more, his appreciation for her beauty was turning in to something else. He wasn’t quite sure yet, but something was changing for him.
And it scared him to death.
“Then please enjoy the rest of your evening,” he said, moving back to the door, realizing that his cheeks were actually flushed. God’s Bones, am I giddy? “We shall leave at dawn on the morrow and my sisters are preparing a traveling bag for you. If you need anything this night, there is a servant in the hall at all times or my… my sister’s doorway is down by the top of the steps.”
He had almost said that his chamber was right next to hers, suggesting that she could come to him if she needed anything. But that wouldn’t be proper nor would it be safe. Whatever you think you’re feeling for the girl, kill it! He told himself as he put his hand on the latch and opened her chamber door wide. He wasn’t even waiting for an answer to his statement but before he could get clear of the chamber, he could hear Brighton’s soft voice behind him.
“Y-you have my thanks, my lord,” she said. “You have been most kind amidst trying circumstances and if I have appeared ungrateful, then I apologize. I know you are only doing what you believe to be right.”
Patrick paused and, against his better judgment, turned to look at her. Softly lit by the glowing fire, he swore he was looking at an angel.
“You have not appeared ungrateful,” he said. “And it is my pleasure to be of service, my lady.”
He turned again, quickly, to leave, but she stopped him. “T-that is something else I must mention,” she said. “You need not address me as ‘my lady’. I am a mere postulate, after all, and not bred from nobility. ‘Mistress’ or even ‘sister’ will do.”
His gaze lingered on her even as he reached out to pull the door shut behind him. “Given that I believe what Sister Acha said, it would appear that you are far more than a mere postulate,” he said quietly. “And I will continue to address you with a term of respect and nobility. Get used to it.”
With that, he pulled the door shut behind him, simply to cut short his view of her. He wasn’t entirely sure he would be strong enough to leave had he gazed upon her much longer.
God’s Bones, what is in your head? He scolded himself silently, making haste for his own chamber and shutting the door softly behind him. He even bolted it for good measure, as if that would stop him from wandering out to the lady’s door again. And what a lady she was.
Giddy? Indeed, he was.
Foolish?
… more than he wanted to admit.
He didn’t sleep the rest of the night.
CHAPTER FIVE
To flee or not to flee… that is the question….
Aye, Brighton wanted to flee. At least, she thought she did. Now was her opportunity, out in the wide open spaces of the road.
But something was holding her back.
>
It could have been the fact that there were several big knights riding escort to their traveling party, men on fast horses that could easily catch her if she decided to run. Or it could be because Lady Katheryn and Lady Evelyn had been as kind as possible to her that morning, helping her to dress in traveling clothes, making her feel as if she was honored and special. It could also be because she had been introduced to Lady Katheryn and Lady Evelyn’s children that morning, delightful boys and girls who were quite enchanting and happy. They reminded her that there was joy still left in the world. Or, it could be because Patrick had made an impact with her the night before.
She was scared to return home.
There was also something about Patrick himself.
The day, in early June, was clear and mild, and Brighton found herself in a carriage with Lady Katheryn and Lady Evelyn, and Lady Evelyn’s baby. The child was not quite a year old, a red-cheeked cherub named Adele. The baby looked a good deal like her father, the tall red-haired knight, Hector, and she had been smiling at Brighton since nearly the moment they’d left Berwick. Brighton couldn’t help but smile back.
The other de Norville and Hage children were riding in another carriage, at least the younger ones were. But three of the boys – Lady Katheryn’s two eldest, Edward and Axel, and Lady Evelyn’s eldest boy, Atreus, were riding ponies near the carriage, shepherded by their fathers.
Lady Katheryn and her husband had three boys, the youngest one, Christoph, riding in the wagon, and Lady Evelyn had two boys and two girls, with one son, Hermes, and her other daughter, Lisbet, also riding in the wagon. Four big dogs rounded out the passengers and were companions as well as protectors to the offspring.
It was quite a tribe of children and pets that had come along in the escort heading for Castle Questing. Because there were so many women and children, Patrick and the other knights had doubled the number of men-at-arms and, even now, heavily-armed men on horseback rode in concentration around the wagons and carriage. Lady Katheryn had noticed them from the start of their journey and, even now as they bumped down the road, she kept glancing up from her sewing, peering from the cab window.
“There are so many armed men out there, it looks as if they are escorting the pope,” she muttered. “Does Patrick truly believe we are going to be set upon? We are flying de Wolfe banners, for Heaven’s sake. Anyone would have to be daft to attack us.”
Evelyn shifted the baby, looking out of the window. “We would make a very large target,” she said. Then, she caught sight of something in the distance and smiled. “Look at Atreus. He is so happy to be riding his new pony. I have never seen Hector so proud.”
Katheryn grinned as she stabbed at her sewing. “So is Alec,” she said. “He spent an hour instructing Eddie and Axel this morning before he ever let them on the ponies. I do believe this is the first time we have ever traveled and allowed the boys to ride on their own.”
Evelyn nodded, looking from the window a moment longer before pulling her head inside. “Mother will be so thrilled to see them,” she said. “They have grown in even the past few months when she last saw them.”
Katheryn agreed. “She will,” she said. Then, she cast a sidelong glance at her sister. “Was it difficult to convince Hector not to stop at Northwood Castle to visit his parents? We passed close to them a while back, I think. I heard Alec say something about it.”
Evelyn shook her head. “We see his father all of the time. You know that Paris comes to Berwick whenever he can because he has two sons there. It was not difficult to pass Northwood this time.”
Small talk bounced between the sisters; talk of children and of their mother and father, and of family at Northwood Castle, which evidently wasn’t far away. Tucked in the corner of the carriage, Brighton listened to it all. The sisters weren’t deliberately being rude but Brighton was rather glad they’d left her out of the conversation; she didn’t feel much like talking. She found her thoughts drifting to the countryside, to Coldingham, and to her uncertain future.
Here she was, traveling with unfamiliar people – people she considered the enemy – but they had all been very kind to her. No one had treated her as an enemy and, perhaps, that was part of the reason she was increasingly reluctant to flee. These English were kind and welcoming people. It was all quite confusing, but there were things about this new world that weren’t so bad.
She might even come to like it someday.
“I am very sorry, my lady.” Katheryn’s soft voice cut into her thoughts. “We have not meant to exclude you from the conversation. We would be very pleased to speak on any subject you choose.”
Brighton tore her gaze away from the carriage window, turning to the women who were smiling politely at her. She forced a smile in return.
“Y-you were not excluding me,” she said. “I was content with my own thoughts.”
Katheryn smiled. “That is sweet of you to forgive us our insult,” she said. “We did not have much chance for pleasant conversation last night or this morning, really. I have not even had the chance to ask you if your clothing fits adequately.”
Brighton looked down at herself. She was wearing a dark blue woolen traveling dress, lightweight, with layers of shifts beneath it. The garment was cinched tightly in the waist, giving her a rather exquisite appearance. She was full-breasted, something she’d never really paid any attention to because she’d spent her entire life in ill-fitting woolen robes. This morning when the ladies had put the traveling dress on her was the first time she’d ever noticed she actually had a figure and it was a stunning one. She thought she might have seen the English knights, including Patrick, give her second glances when she’d climbed into the carriage that morning, attention that embarrassed her. She’d never known anything like it before.
“I-it is beautiful,” she said simply, lifting her head to look at her traveling companions once again. “I…I have never worn anything like this before.”
“It suits you,” Evelyn said confidently. “It used to be mine but I can no longer fit into it. I am more than happy to give you my clothing that no longer fits. I am pleased you can use it.”
Brighton nodded, a hesitant gesture. “Y-you have been most kind, my lady,” she said. Then, she looked between the two of them. “You have both been most kind. As I told you last night, I do not mean to appear ungrateful for anything you do for me, but this is all quite… overwhelming.”
Katheryn and Evelyn were understanding. “I cannot imagine what you are feeling,” Katheryn said quietly. “But we will do everything we can to make you feel comfortable.”
Brighton wasn’t sure what to say to that. She’d never known such genuinely nice people. She simply nodded and returned her attention to the open window, which happened to face north, into Scotland. Her home. Katheryn and Evelyn exchanged sympathetic glances.
“Will you tell us about your home, my lady?” Evelyn asked, simply to keep the conversation flowing. “Have you lived in a convent your entire life?”
Brighton sensed they were simply trying to include her in conversation so she wouldn’t feel left out. She wished they didn’t feel that way, for she truly didn’t have any desire to chat the journey away, but she responded to them nonetheless.
“I-I have,” she said. “Coldingham is… well, it is my home. I love it there.”
“Did you receive an education?” Evelyn asked. “Did you have regular duties?”
Brighton nodded. “I-I learned to read and write,” she replied. “Sister Acha was insistent that I learn. I can speak Latin and Italian because one of our sisters, Sister Andria, only spoke Italian and a little Latin. She was in charge of the kitchens so if you wanted to eat, you had to learn to communicate with her.”
Katheryn and Evelyn were fascinated with an Italian nun. “That is wonderful,” Katheryn said sincerely. “I have never actually met someone who lived in a convent. Did you have times of leisure or did you pray all day and all night?”
Brighton grinned at their naïve ques
tions. They acted as if she had lived on the moon for the past nineteen years. “W-we prayed at appointed times, just as you do,” she said. “When we were not praying, we were working. I worked in the kitchens and in the garden. Some nuns worked with the animals, as we had many sheep and goats, and some nuns did the sewing, the scrubbing, and things of that nature. We also had a small infirmary where nuns would tend the sick, but we are not a healing order so the infirmary was very small.”
Katheryn and Evelyn were very interested in life in the convent. “Was it a big garden?” Evelyn asked. “The one you tended, I mean. Our mother has a large garden at Castle Questing, where we grew up, but Patrick would not let us have a flower garden at Berwick. He says that military installations do not have flower gardens, so all he allows us to grow are vegetables for the table.”
Brighton’s thoughts shifted from Coldingham to the enormous knight with the pale green eyes. Even the mere thought of him caused her heart to flutter, just a bit. It was an unfamiliar feeling, indeed. The man must have put a devil’s curse on me to make me jump every time I so much as think of him!
“W-we did grow some flowers, but we mostly grew herbs and vegetables,” Brighton said. “We grow a great deal of lavender and roses, for even roses can be eaten or used in medicines. Roses are my favorite.”
“Mine, too!” Evelyn piped up, shifting the baby on her lap. “When Hector and I were courting, he would bring me roses all of the time. He still brings them to me on occasion. He is thoughtful that way.”
Courting was such an alien concept to Brighton that she hadn’t much to say to that. These women lived in a world of husbands and children, and she did not. Still, she was having her first glimpse into a world other than that of a convent and she wasn’t hard pressed to admit it was intriguing. A world where husbands and wives and children made life happy and content. Inevitably, her attention moved to the baby, who was grinning at her again. When Evelyn saw where Brighton’s attention was, she lifted the baby in her direction.
Nighthawk: Sons of de Wolfe (de Wolfe Pack Book 7) Page 8