She protested, her voice rising in hysteria. “I am not the enemy. By what—”
“Calm yourself,” he ordered. “You usually don’t ruffle so easily when teased.” He studied her.
Her guilt over the kiss burned within her. She should confess. Now. Let him punish her as he may.
Yet no admission left her lips as Aldred stood and walked to her. Placing a hand against her cheek, he asked, “Do you feel well?”
She cradled his hand in her own. “Never better, my lord.”
“Then go speak to Gavin when you are dressed. Put on that pretty green gown that matches your eyes. I so love to see you in it.”
He kissed her cheek. “I’m going for a bit of a turn.” He moved toward the door. “I shall see you later.”
Elizabeth watched him go. Her first thoughts had been to wear a gown in which she looked her best. Not that she sought to appear attractive to Gavin, of course. She simply wanted to wear something luxurious. She needed to feel her full power as she faced him, to feel in control.
And not feel as if she’d throw herself into his arms at first sight.
She called for water in which to bathe. If she took a little extra care this morning, who would notice? Certainly not Gavin. Elizabeth was sure after their acrimonious parting that he would not think too kindly of her.
Still, she would look and feel the authority she held. She prepared herself inside and out, much as a soldier going into battle would. She guessed it would be a battle of wits between her and their new captain.
She was certain she would prevail.
As she entered the Great Hall a few minutes later, she spied Nelia and signaled her over.
“Please send for Lord Gavin. I am not sure where he can be found, but be quick about it.”
“Why, Lord Gavin is in the training yard.”
“What?”
Nelia nodded. “As of today, it looks like he’s demonstrating his fine form.”
Two passing servants giggled and fluttered their eyelashes at Nelia’s words. One dropped a pitcher she was carrying. The loud crash of pottery upon the floor drew every eye in the hall and caused Gavin’s hovering cat to flee the room.
Nelia latched onto the offender’s shoulder. “Enough of that. Clean this mess up.” Elizabeth watched the look Nelia gave as she took in both girls. “And no more excuses to head to the bailey again, either of you.”
The servant turned back to her mistress. “I’ll fetch Lord Gavin myself, my lady.”
Elizabeth’s curiosity peaked. “No, I will speak with him later.” She quickly rolled off her orders for the day, knowing that Nelia would see to everything. Almost against her will, she decided to head over to the outer bailey, where the soldiers usually went through their training exercises.
The noise of clanging swords sounded long before she reached the open area. The ringing was rapid, hard, brutal. As she turned the corner, she saw a crowd gathered around the training guards. The looks on the faces she saw told her the story. Some were enraptured. Some smiled. Others showed sheer amazement on their faces.
Elizabeth pushed through the throng until she arrived at the front. She spied Gavin fighting two soldiers at once. Sheer determination adorned his features as he called instructions. She didn’t often watch the guards drill, but even she knew an amazing display of skill when she saw it.
Gavin called for a third man to enter the fray against him. Her heart caught in her throat. She knew no harm should come to him, seeing as how it was merely an exercise. That, coupled with his great skill, assured her he would be fine. She calmed her nerves and studied the scene before her.
He was thinner than a man his height should be, but that didn’t surprise her, considering his ordeal in France. Still, he had escaped a few months earlier, and she was sure he’d put some weight back on. Muscle, too, as she remembered his hardened chest from their kiss.
His arms were bare. Sinewy muscles in his forearms gleamed with sweat as he danced from one opponent to the next. Sweat also caused his tunic to cling to him, outlining the stretched muscles across his back.
What must he have been in his prime, before languishing two years in a forgotten prison cell? The man before her would be envied by many men, and sought after by even more women. A primal beauty was evident in his swordplay. It was like a song, only physical. His sword flowed with a strength and power so graceful that it took her breath away, much as the man himself did. Gavin would be a formidable foe on the battlefield.
“Halt!” The word echoed throughout the bailey. He brushed the sweat from his brow. “We will break for now. ‘Tis close to the noon meal. We will resume training afterward.”
As the soldiers and the crowd gathered about them begin to disperse, his eyes locked with hers. He began to make his way to her. Displeasure radiated from his body.
As he drew near, Elizabeth said, “We need to talk.”
Gavin gave her an odd look, and she realized he had spoken the same words at the same time. It caused her to flush, the burn riding from her neck up her face. This wasn’t how she wanted things to be. She wanted to speak calmly, rationally, with the man. Why did a single look from him unnerve her so?
He waved a hand to his left, and they moved away from the others, rounding a corner. A water trough stood there. He leaned over and plunged his head straight into it, then pulled it back out, beads of water clinging to his dark skin in the sunlight. He slicked back his raven hair and bent again, splashing water upon his face several times.
“Forgive me for addressing you in such a state, my lady. I had no idea you would be present and wish to speak to me.”
She looked at him coolly, but all she really knew was she now gazed upon the most magnificent specimen she’d ever looked upon. Many suitors came to her door before her marriage to Aldred, some of them quite handsome and charming. Of course, she’d never given any of them a second thought, even those who gazed at her with sweet longing.
Gavin was different. The way he held himself, his head high, his eyes level. Elizabeth was aware of the rippling power flowing through him, the sharp planes of his face, the lips now curled in a slight sneer. Oh, Mary, Mother of God, how she longed to touch those lips, stroke his cheek, be enveloped in his arms again! Yet, she tamped down her emotions and spoke evenly.
“That’s quite all right, my lord. I have but a simple matter to discuss with you.” She almost began to fidget as she had in her younger days, but she willed her hands to stay by her side. No wiggling, no nail biting. She would give him no sign of the discomfort she experienced in his presence.
If only he would back away from her, their conversation might be easier to begin. He stood close. Not so close as to seem improper, but too close for her comfort. He was male, all male, and his very scent threatened to overpower her and cause her to swoon.
He frowned. “I don’t see that we have anything to discuss, my lady.”
“Then, why did you wish to speak with me?” she threw back at him. He remained silent, seeming to bite back words he longed to say.
“I am here to address you on the matter of Agnes,” she finally said.
His expression softened in an instant. “Is she well? Is the babe all right? What might I do?”
Without thinking, Gavin had cupped Elizabeth’s elbow. He almost cursed aloud at the spark that flashed between them. He quickly dropped his hand to his side. She stood there, her soft lips parted slightly, her head tilted as she looked at him.
The woman was breathtaking. Her rich cote-hardie of green, the color of forest moss, reflected the very shade of her eyes. That thick, abundant hair spilled about her shoulders in glorious waves, a simple gold circlet taming the auburn waves.
He hungered for her sweet mouth to be his again, for her curves to be pressed to him. Desire flooded him as never before. He dropped his eyes t
o the ground. He needed the simple action to gain his composure.
As he stared downward, Elizabeth said, “No, the two are fine. What I’m looking for is a husband.”
His head shot up. He saw her blush furiously. Her words were calm, though.
“I need a husband for Agnes. ‘Tis a sweet girl she is, and she and the babe need someone to provide for them.”
She turned away from him, her hands behind her back. She began pacing like a general who discussed his plans for battle with his officers. She spit her words out succinctly, expecting no questions.
“I have decided upon one of Aldred’s guards as her mate. ‘Tis a young man, no more than eight and ten. He’s a shy one, and I do not think him totally suited for a military life.
“I would make him an offer to replace Peter in the stables and marry Agnes. Naturally, he would accept the babe as his own and raise it with love and a firm hand.”
“Naturally,” Gavin echoed. He found himself amused by her plan for others, wondering if anyone ever told her no.
“If you are agreeable, and I consult you only because Aldred insisted I must, I will approach young Emery today. He can move from the barracks to the stables tonight. They can be wed as soon as Agnes is churched and up and about.”
He decided to challenge her. “And if I’ll not agree to this plan, who would you have her wed after young Emery?”
Elizabeth turned. Her mouth dropped in surprise. She snapped it shut, her eyes narrowing. “I see no reason why this cannot be. I am sure you’ll agree. Emery, too.”
“And if I don’t? Will you tattle to Aldred?”
She bristled visibly, her voice rising. “I will not tattle on anyone, my lord, and if I should, ‘twould be you I tattled about!” She gave a very unladylike snort and tapped her foot impatiently.
“And yourself, my lady,” he prodded gently. “I do believe you were party to the tattling offense.” He saw her temper truly flare. He allowed her to see his smile now, the one he’d tried hard to keep hidden while he baited her.
“Why, you act as a mischievous boy!” she proclaimed. A look of joy crossed her face. The air was knocked from him at the radiant smile she bestowed upon him. “No one teases me at all, except Aldred, of course. And sometimes Robert, though I fear he’ll never quite get the hang of it.”
“And no one else, my lady?”
She frowned. “No. None. I fear some might think me quite unapproachable. I make a good deal of the decisions that concern Kentwood, as well as render many of the judgments when a protest occurs, be it over a disputed bit of garden or squabbling over the ownership of a pig. No one challenges my word.” A thoughtful look crossed her face. “Not even Aldred nowadays,” she said wistfully.
“I assure you, my lady, that you may have young Emery for your stable and your Agnes. In the short time I have observed him, I have seen he does not have the makings of a good soldier and would be better suited for other tasks. I shall not protest his loss.”
Elizabeth beamed. “I shall guarantee Emery will accept my offer. Agnes is a pretty thing, with a sweet disposition. She will make a good wife to him. ‘Twill also prevent him going to France, as Aldred soon owes the king another twenty men.”
“Then I shall bid you good day,” Gavin said with false cheer. He wanted nothing more than to keep her here, chatting away so relaxed and animated, but he could think of nothing else to say.
“My lady! My lady! Come quick!”
Gavin looked over as Nelia rounded the corner, her skirts hiked high as she ran toward them.
“’Tis Lord Aldred. He’s fallen. You must come at once!”
CHAPTER 16
Aldred moaned as someone lifted him from the floor. Bolts of lightning sizzled through his head and caused great flashes of light. Darkness followed the flashes, accompanied by roars not unlike waves crashing upon rock. Dull throbs pounded in his skull. They trickled down to his chest.
He longed to open his eyes. It would require too much effort. He left them closed. Jostling meant they took him up the stairs, to his solar.
Elizabeth . . .
His mind cried out to his wife, the rock upon which he’d built these twilight years. He had affection for all his wives and his children, too—but Elizabeth had become most precious of all. He’d watched her grow from a pampered child to a woman of efficiency and deep maturity. He taught her to hone her keen intelligence and trust in her good judgment. In growing up, she had even gained compassion.
And a radiant beauty. He’d not seen a woman her equal in all his years, not in France nor in the whole of England. It would be fitting that, with his death, the child of his heart would now marry the child from his loins, the son he’d never known was his until these last few end of days.
They would be a perfect match. They would keep Kentwood true to course. He imagined their children playing hide and seek throughout the castle and chuckled to himself. The sound came out as a weak groan.
Voices fluttered about him. Hands touched him. They placed him upon his bed. The familiar smells of his solar settled about him, giving him comfort.
He frowned and wished everyone would leave. He was dying; he knew it. He wished to do so in peace, not with half of Kentwood’s people surrounding him. Elizabeth would understand that.
If only she would come . . .
Elizabeth tore up the steps at breakneck speed, her slippers clicking as she ran down the stone corridor to the solar. Gavin and Nelia followed her. She could wait for no one. She must reach Aldred.
Out of breath, she paused and collected herself before entering the room. It would not do for him to see her so flustered. When she stepped inside, amazement followed.
The solar held close to twenty, thirty people. All gathered around the bed, speaking rapidly, fussing amongst themselves.
“What do you think you are doing?”
Her voice rang out, bringing those present to instant silence. She took a calming breath.
“I would ask that everyone leave,” she said, politely but very firmly. “I know you are all concerned for Lord Aldred, but I will see to his injuries and then ask for any needed help.”
A buzzing began, with each voice expressing a different opinion.
“Now,” she said, her tone low and threatening, “is not the time to challenge my words, nor my instructions.” She glared at those in front of her. Immediately, the crowd began to part.
As she walked toward the bed, she sensed the room vacating. She turned and saw Gavin and Nelia standing there. Both awaited her orders.
As the room emptied, she motioned to them.
“Come. And close the door.”
Nelia did. They both walked over to where she stood next to the bed. Elizabeth already studied Aldred as they approached. His brow furrowed as if in pain or deep concentration. He lay atop the bedclothes, his clothes slightly askew.
“Tell me what happened, Nelia.” Elizabeth leaned over and stroked her husband’s brow. Immediately, his body visibly relaxed, so she continued the motion. She also took his hand in hers. It felt cold to the touch.
“I looked up from my duties and saw Lord Aldred making his way down the stairs, a proud look upon his face. His walking stick was in his hand. He raised a hand in greeting to me,” Nelia recalled. “Then, with but two steps remaining, he got an odd look upon his face, as if something surprised him.”
Nelia stopped, and Gavin touched the old servant’s shoulder. “Go on,” he urged.
The woman patted his hand and continued. “He crumpled up and tumbled the short way down. I called for help and went looking for Lady Elizabeth.”
“You did well,” Gavin assured her.
Elizabeth nodded and ran her hands along Aldred’s limbs in a thorough inspection.
“No broken bones,” she said,
a sense of relief coming for a brief moment. She leaned close to his ear. “Can you hear me, Aldred? ‘Tis Elizabeth, come to tend you. You gave me quite a scare.”
A shadow of a smile crossed Aldred’s pale face. His eyelids fluttered a few times and opened for a moment before drifting closed again.
She took his face in both her hands and pressed a kiss to his brow. “Wake up, you sweet old goat,” she said teasingly. “I would not have you play games anymore with me.”
His eyes opened again and remained that way. He mumbled something.
“What’s that?” She bent low, her ear close to his mouth. “Courlieu?” she repeated. “Did you say courlieu?”
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