Trusting in Faith - A Medieval Romance (The Sword of Glastonbury Series Book 5)

by Shea,Lisa

  Simon gripped her hand even tighter. “I can change,” he insisted softly, his eyes bright. “Tell me what is wrong, and I am sure I can fix it. Then you will grow to love me as I love you.”

  Sarah shook her head sadly. “You are wonderful just the way you are,” she insisted. “We are simply different people.” She searched through her mind for a way to explain it. “Imagine the most beautiful trout, enjoying its pond. Then imagine the finest horse, grazing in the field. You would not ask either creature to change one whit of what they are. Yet the creatures would simply not be happy if they tried to be partners in life. Some things were not meant to be.”

  She raised a hand to his cheek, touching him tenderly. “You are a dear friend, Simon. If I lose your friendship because of my honesty, I will be heartbroken. However, I do not want to lead you on when you might be courting another woman far more suitable for you. It would not be right. She is out there, and she loves you. You will love her dearly in return. You just have to find her.”

  Simon dropped his eyes. Several long moments passed, and Sarah could not think of anything further to say that would not make things worse. Finally Simon shook himself and looked up again.

  “I think I should go now, I feel I have overstayed my welcome. Fare well, Sarah.”

  Sarah watched sadly as he made his way out of the room. She knew she had wounded him deeply, but could not think of any other alternative. To have let him keep spending his time on her would have been a greater harm.

  She moved away from the window, feeling both guilty and strangely liberated. She had known for a while that she had to talk with Simon, and it had finally been done. She hoped that he would get over the hurt as soon as possible.

  Sarah gave a long stretch, still sore and worn out from the previous day’s tasks. Her mother had always liked Simon; Sarah wandered through the keep, wanting to tell her mother what had happened. She walked slowly through the rooms, but not finding Mathilde in the main building, her feet eventually led her toward the stables. She could see if her mother’s horse was still here, and also check to see if Simon had in fact left already.

  Simon’s dappled horse was gone, but to her surprise, she heard Reynald’s voice coming from the back of the wooden structure. Turning the corner in puzzlement, she found Reynald staring down at Lou, his face stern. The stable boy was shaking his head resolutely, and his voice was soft but firm in his response.

  “Begging your pardon, Sir, but I cannot say anything about that,” he insisted. “You would have to direct any questions to the lady herself.”

  Sarah strode forward, anger rising within her. “Yes, please do,” she confirmed with heat.

  Reynald’s head spun at the interruption, and to his credit he flushed at being caught in this position.

  Sarah moved forward to stand before him, staring up into his face with blazing eyes. “How dare you question our staff about my actions?” she bit out in fury. “You are a guest in our home, Sir, and have no right. You will find that our people here both respect us and have the honor not to speak of our activities to strangers. It is an honor that you might deign to learn.”

  Reynald’s face went white with tension, and his voice, when he spoke, was low and steely. “Are you daring to question my honor?”

  Lou took an involuntary step back at the flare in Reynald’s eyes.

  Sarah did not flinch. “If your activities involve pressuring young boys in back rooms to reveal the secrets of their employers, and you feel this is appropriate behavior for a knight, then by all means let us take this matter to my father and hear what he has to say.” She swiveled in place and strode out of the dark stables. “I believe he is in the back fields, training with his troops,” she tossed over her shoulder as she marched resolutely toward the side of the keep.

  She had reached the back gardens when she heard long strides moving to overtake her. “Sarah, wait,” called out Reynald, his voice half contrite, half exasperated.

  A strong hand grabbed at her arm, and she turned suddenly, angrily shaking it off. Reynald instantly released her, putting his hands to the side in surrender. “Please,” he tried again, his breath coming in long draws from the run. “Let me just talk with you first.”

  “I have seen the way you … talk,” growled Sarah, but she slowed her pace, moving to the gazebo rather than the gates which led toward the back field. As she stepped within, the cool shade and gentle breezes created an oasis from the bright summer’s sun.

  For a few long moments she wondered if Reynald had changed his mind. There were no footsteps, no further calls. Slowly her pulse settled down to normal. A bird sang in a nearby tree, a lilting tune of tranquility. She stared out at the pond, wondering just what was going on in her world. First two births in as many weeks, and now this …

  A voice sounded quietly from behind her. “Sarah?”

  She turned her head, shaken from her reverie. Reynald stood at the side of the structure, one foot on the stone step. His hand rested easily on the hilt of his blade, and his eyes held hers with a serious look.

  “You have a right to know the truth, and I have been wrong to ask for your trust without providing you with any reason,” he admitted in a low tone. He paused for a few moments, looking into her eyes. “However, I know the timing may be poor for this discussion. Would you like to talk now, or do you wish to be alone, given what happened earlier between you and Simon?”

  Sarah tilted her head to one side, her mind thrown completely off track. She had not thought anyone beyond Sally had overheard her conversation. “What do you know of this afternoon?” She flushed, contrite that Simon’s rejection had been public.

  Reynald blushed. “I had remained behind after the practice, and was cleaning my blade at the stone near your window when you had the talk with Simon,” he admitted. “Then when Simon came out to saddle his horse, it happened that I was there in the stables, talking with Lou. Simon introduced himself to me and … well, he made a comment or two.”

  Sarah could not help herself. “Was he upset?” Her heart fell at the thought of Simon’s emotional state. “I tried to be gentle …”

  Reynald smiled, nodding his head. “I know you did. He seems to understand that as well, although I imagine it will take him a while to absorb it.”

  Sarah moved to sit sideways on the bench, drawing her knees up against herself. Her heart ached with weariness, her mind swirling with conflicting thoughts. She struggled to put them aside for now.

  Reynald had been stirring up situations since he had arrived, and had never felt an explanation was necessary. If the headstrong knight was finally willing to explain what was going on, she needed to listen before he changed his mind and shut her out again.

  She looked up and met his amber gaze. “Please, I would like for us to talk, to get a handle on the issues you seek to remedy. Help me to understand.”

  Despite the lingering pique she felt over Reynald’s questioning of Lou, Sarah had to admit that she was curious about his motives. Something had been driving him hard since he had arrived at her home. Taking a deep breath, Sarah sat back against the low wall of the gazebo. Now that she had made the overture, she waited patiently for him to begin the topic.

  Reynald took the few steps to enter the gazebo with her, then stopped. He seemed quite uncomfortable, and Sarah wondered what disturbed him so. He had been so sure of himself at other times. This was a new aspect of him.

  He swept his eyes around the area, then lowered them to meet her gaze, holding it steadily. “What I am about to tell you, you must keep to yourself,” he muttered in a low rush. “I have seen how well you care for others – both physically and emotionally. Indeed, you have been resolute in protecting even the wanderers from me.” He paused, then continued more slowly. “I believe I have enough faith in your honor that you will guard my own privacy with the same care.”

  Sarah nodded encouragingly. “Of course I will abide by your wishes. If you wish me to keep this discussion secret, then I shall.”<
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  Reynald paced along the width of the building. “I have a younger sister. I love her dearly. While she is sometimes foolish, she has a good heart. When I left to join the Knights Templar, I wrote regularly to hear news of her.”

  He paused for a moment, then continued, his face set. “About five months ago, my mother wrote to me. She reported that a local bandit had gotten my sister pregnant, and my sister had foolishly run off with him. My mother blamed my sister for taking up with the ruffian and refused to go after her or send a rescue party.”

  Reynald’s eyes shadowed. “I could not believe my own mother would cast her daughter out - and her grandchild. Unfortunately, my mother has always had the burden of great pride. Often times she cares more about what others will think of her than the issues of her own family.”

  Sarah considered this thoughtfully, watching Reynald. “So you came home to find your sister?”

  Reynald looked down, not meeting her gaze. “I came to this area for several reasons. Right now, my sister is out there somewhere. I must find her and make sure she is safe.”

  His voice turned steely. “If that rogue has hurt her in any way -”

  His hand dropped automatically to the hilt of his sword. He looked out over the pond, his face suddenly distant.

  Sarah spoke quietly into the silence. “Well, then, what is her name?”

  Reynald responded without turning. His voice was a mere whisper. “Abigail.”

  Sarah’s heart stopped. “Is she about sixteen? Thin in build, with long, blonde hair?”

  Reynald instantly spun, his eyes wide. “You have seen her then?”

  Sarah’s eyes sharpened. “How many children did your mother have?”

  Reynald answered without hesitation. “Three. I was the oldest, then David, who is with the Crusades in Antioch. Abigail came long after us two.”

  Sarah held his gaze, keeping her voice neutral. “Did you know a young man named Lloyd?”

  Reynald’s forehead creased with confusion. “There was a Lloyd who was a boy who worked at the stables. He was a lad when I left. He would probably be around twenty one ...” His voice drifted away, and his eyes held Sarah’s in challenge. “Are you saying my mother lied to me about the bandits?”

  Sarah let the silence linger on for a moment, then she made her decision. “I am saying that Lloyd and Abigail are very much in love with each other, and that they are married. They are safely in hiding.” She waited a moment for the shock to pass on Reynald’s face before adding, “They are the proud parents of a beautiful baby girl.”

  Reynald leant back against the support of the gazebo, his face relaxing into relief. “Thank God,” he breathed gratefully, all tension melting out of him. His eyes eagerly moved back up to meet Sarah’s. “So she is all right? The baby is all right? Are they healthy?”

  Sarah smiled and nodded. “Yes, very much so. Abigail has been careful to take care of her health, and from what I see, Lloyd is an admirable husband.”

  A frown swept back onto Reynald’s face. “Except that he has brought her in with the bandits.”

  Sarah stood to face him, her face serious. “First, they are not bandits. They are wandering craftsmen. Second, Lloyd needed an environment that was secure and had food while his wife was in her final months. Kyle is there with them, to help keep her safe. Now that the baby is born, they intend to find a place to build a house, before fall gets too chill.”

  Reynald’s face shifted to a frown. “She should come home, where she belongs!”

  Sarah’s face became equally stern. “As you might remember, her mother does not welcome her there. Perhaps Abigail is better off somewhere she and her child are loved.”

  Reynald turned away at that. He was quiet for a while, looking off into the distance. “I will talk with my mother and get her to see reason,” he decided finally. “In the meantime, I need to get my sister somewhere safe.” He looked over to meet Sarah’s eyes, his face resolute. “You must take me to her right away.”

  Sarah chuckled softly, her voice taking on a hint of steel. “That is for Abigail to decide.”

  Reynald’s eyes flared with anger. “I am her older brother!”

  Sarah’s face instantly shuttered. “So you say,” she pointed out, crossing her arms. “However, I will wait to hear from Abigail, to see what she wishes to do about her own life and family. In these parts, women are held to be just as important as men. And just as able to make their own decisions.”

  Reynald’s face twisted with emotion. At last he stepped back a pace, his voice apologetic and soft. “Of course, your obligation is with her trust. I appreciate that.” He seemed as if he would say something further, then he looked away in frustration. His voice came as a whisper. “It is just so hard, after all this time ...”

  Sarah sighed, breathing in the anguish emanating from the man before her. It was, after all, unlikely that he was lying to her. He clearly seemed concerned about Abigail’s safety and well-being. She relented and touched him gently on the shoulder to have him turn.

  “You will not have to wait long,” she consoled him. “I see her regularly, but on a certain schedule, for everybody’s safety. Local thieves would love to know where their camp was, given the supplies the gypsies carry with them. Do not fear, I will be seeing her again in a short while. I will ask her, then, what she wishes to do.”

  Reynald looked as if he would argue, but, taking a deep breath, he bowed his head. “If there is a schedule you have arranged which keeps her safe, then I will not ask you to alter it,” he reluctantly agreed. “I am sure, once you speak with her, that she will come home to me.”

  A lilting voice echoed across the gardens. “There you are!” Rachel strolled into view through the bright summertime sunlight. She was sporting a low cut green gown which clung to her curves as if the fabric was soaking wet. Sarah watched as Rachel moved right past her to stand before Reynald, her body moving sensually while she spoke.

  “Sir knight, I hear that you ride very well! Would you be willing to escort me to the fair at Burbage? It would be quite gallant of you to provide this service, in exchange for our fair hospitality.”

  When he turned, Reynald’s gaze gave no hint of the emotionally charged discussion which had just finished. His eyes were alert and he moved at once to agree. He gave a short bow, nodding his head. “I would be honored, Rachel. You should most certainly have a companion on your trip.”

  Sarah watched as he bowed in farewell to her, then headed back toward the keep in company with her younger sister. She sat in the gazebo alone for a long while, her thoughts torn between Abigail’s difficult situation and how she had disappointed Simon’s dreams.

  * * *

  Sarah found only her mother and father waiting for her at the head table that evening for dinner. They both looked at her expectantly as she sat down. Sarah waited until the mead was poured before she wearily nodded her head.

  “I am sure nothing stays secret in this house for more than five minutes,” she sighed with a half-smile. “Yes, it is true that I asked Simon to stop courting me.”

  Mathilde sipped her drink. “He was always such a nice young man,” she murmured. “Still, you have to decide for yourself what path your life will follow. That is your right and responsibility as a woman.” Her mouth quirked up. “You are sure he is not the one?”

  Sarah shook her head. “He is certainly sweet,” she agreed, “and he creates lovely music. However, he holds a deep disdain for the things I treasure in life. Worse, he dismisses my opinions. I cannot imagine I would be happy in a household with him.”

  Her father leant forward, patting her hand. “You will know when the right man comes along,” he promised with a smile. “Hold fast to your ideals. A man will come who shares them. Who respects you.”

  Sarah took a hunk of bread from the table’s center, ripping off a small piece and thoughtfully chewing on it. “Still, I wish there could have been a way for it to … peter out naturally,” she commented sadly. “He wa
s so sure I was the one. He seemed so desolate when I told him there was no hope. If only …”

  Mathilde chuckled softly. “Woe be to any baby bird or lost lamb who comes across your path,” she smiled to her daughter. “You would keep every wayward creature completely safe from all harm and trouble. These are part of life, and they help to make us strong and mature,” she pointed out. “Simon is a grown man. He will deal with this setback, move on, and find his match. For every pot there is a lid.”

  “I suppose so.” Sarah’s heart was not in her response. She still remembered vividly the sad look in Simon’s eyes as she gave him the news, the fading of his shine …

  She considered bringing up the subsequent events involving Reynald and Lou, but she took another drink of mead instead. Better to hold her tongue, to wait and see how things played out. One never got into trouble by being slow to share gossip. Instead, she talked generally about how her gardens were doing, discussing fall harvesting plans with her parents.

  Dinner was almost finished when Reynald walked into the main hall, absently dusting the dirt off his tunic as he strode across the wooden floor. He came over to sit opposite Sarah and her parents, nodding his thanks as Sally brought him a trencher and a mug of mead.

  Her father raised a glass in hearty welcome. “Greetings, Reynald, and well met,” he called out. “I am so glad you were able to return from the fair in time to sup with us. The items they serve out at Burbage are sometimes … questionable.” He chuckled at the thought, nudging his wife with a smile.

  Sarah’s heart roiled with concern. “Where is Rachel?” She knew her feelings were irrational; Rachel was certainly long past old enough to take care of herself and had had free run of their village for years. Still, she thought of Rachel as an innocent younger sister, and old habits seemed to die hard.