“I will cower afore no man,” she said boldly. “You should know that by now.”
“As long as you know the same holds true for me, Amiria. I am lord here and no woman, you or any other, will ever lead me about by the nose,” Dristan said with a stern warning look. “But know you this . . . I would rather you stand beside me willingly and accept me as not only your lord but as your husband. I do not relish a lifetime of war between us, my lady.”
“Accepting you as husband may be easier said than done, my lord.”
“Perchance ’twill not be as difficult as you may think,” he said huskily as he once more extended out his hand for her to take. “Now, as I said, come with me. Such loveliness is not meant to be stifled between the walls of our keep, but instead should be outside where it may thrive in nature’s glory.”
His compliment took Amiria by surprise, especially when he referred to the keep as their home. She finally placed her hand within his, and he gently pulled her to her feet. She felt a tremor pass between them, leaving her slightly breathless and in awe of how she felt when she was with this man. From his startled expression, Amiria knew, without any doubt, he had felt it too. She saw the edges of his mouth lift in an ever so slight smile, and she returned it with one of her own.
Encouraged the day may yet be salvaged with the thought of being outdoors, Amiria willingly walked alongside Dristan. ’Twas not ’til he captured her hand, with a twinkle in his eyes, and placed it on his arm as they reached the Great Hall that she began to enjoy the sensation of being in his company. Perchance, if she but wished hard enough, there would be hope for their match after all!
Twenty-seven
Sabina’s moans, coming from the hayloft, echoed off the walls, ’til she realized they might be overheard. He was quite the lover, not that she had another to compare him to. Stifling a giggle, she looked down upon his head whilst he went about his business. A smile lit her face in excitement from his touch. Such a fine amorous knight was he and she was thrilled he was hers and hers alone.
Sabina suddenly gasped and flinched in jealousy. She pushed with all her might at the man who she had, but moments afore, clasped to her bosom. “What did you call me?” she screeched angrily.
“I know not what you speak of,” Hugh muffled as he went back to nuzzling her breasts.
“Get off me, you misbegotten cur! How dare you utter my sister’s name whilst you take me to your bed?”
Hugh raised a brow in irony as he scrutinized their surroundings. “You are mistaken and err mightily if you believe you would ever be worthy enough to enter my bed.”
“Ha! I at least was born a lady, expecting those to honor me since my birth, and did not have to bribe my king to earn his favor!”
Hugh’s smirk seeped with condescension. Rising, he began to adjust his hose. “No lady would be caught alive without her garments in a hayloft, my dear, especially without the benefit of wedlock.”
“But you will wed with me, Sir Hugh, of that there is no doubt,” Sabina said confidently.
A small laugh escaped his lips as he looked down upon her whilst she attempted to remove the hay tangled in her long straight hair. “I think not,” he replied and strapped his sword to his side. “You would be the last woman I would care to wake up to for the rest of my life.”
Sabina began to sputter her outrage. Quickly she began to claw her way out of the straw, which seemingly clung to her from every direction. The loud creaking of the opening stable door caused Hugh to reach down and place his hand none to gently over her mouth to further silence her protests.
“Bloody hell, Hugh! Are you not yet finished?” hissed his cousin.
“Aye, most assuredly,” he called from above.
“Then what is taking so long?” Gilbert said impatiently. “We must away and without further haste. I do not relish being caught within the bailey’s walls.”
“I’m coming,” he exclaimed without care for the hurt that crossed Sabina’s features. “I have no further business here.”
“But what if I am with child?” she whispered in dismay that he would not take her to wife.
“That, Sabina, is your problem and not mine,” Hugh drawled callously, giving her a final look of cold distain.
Sabina stood there motionless and horrified whilst Hugh’s words began to take form in her mind. She reached out for him only to have her hand slapped away as he took his leave without so much as a backwards glance.
She began to shake uncontrollably. The silence of the stables was deafening to her ears. The horses whinnied and snorted occasionally as horses were wont to do, but she did not hear their sounds. Nor did she see the dust molts as they danced and floated in the air from the sunlight penetrating the cracks in the ceiling. Nay . . . she only stood there alone and frightened with her thoughts.
Her hands at last came to rest upon her belly for she knew that a child had indeed taken root within her womb. What to do? What to do? What to do? Her troubled thoughts repeated the same question over and over in her mind. No answer seemed to be forthcoming. He must wed me, her way of thinking demanded no matter how irrational those demands might be. Surely he would come to love her and the child she carried!
She adjusted her clothing and began to slowly climb down the ladder, ensuring her skirts did not trip her on her way down. She was just removing the last remnants of straw from her hair when two lads entered to grab bridles and tack.
She made it appear she had been tending one of the steeds housed there. A quick glance at the youths proved that mayhap Hugh had not been as careful as she assumed, for the young lads tossed her a knowing look. She glared at them for their gall, but they turned from her without so much as a by your leave. How dare the whelps treat her so as if she was not a lady at all? The slight burnt like a fever within her as she gathered her thoughts to give the boys a piece of her mind.
She collected her words to voice her displeasure but choked them back when they entered the stall where Dristan’s horse was kept. Thor seemed to be as displeased with the louts as much as she was. They approached the stallion cautiously and tried to not get beneath his massive hooves when he pranced in anticipation of his freedom. After some difficulty, they at last managed to have the steed saddled and led him from the stall to receive his rider.
’Twas not ’til Sabina heard her sister’s voice saying she would retrieve Caliana that a feeling of utter resentment consumed her. Her sanity snapped as easily as a dried twig beneath one’s foot. With her sister’s approach, Sabina knew only one thing for certain . . . she would die a thousand deaths afore Amiria would take the father of her child from her!
Amiria entered the stable with a smile set upon her face, ’til she espied her sister hovering in the shadows of the room. Sabina slowly came into the light and Amiria was startled by the somewhat crazed look upon her features. She began to reach out towards her sibling, to find out what had befallen her, when Sabina snarled at her.
“You willna have them both, you witch,” Sabina cried out in anger.
“Are you daft? Whatever do you speak of?” she questioned somberly, noticing Sabina did not look well. “You have no reason to turn your wrath upon me.”
“He is mine. You willna cast some spell upon him so his favors fall from me!” she bellowed, raising her fist. “You willna have him too. If you think to take him from me then I will kill you just to keep him unto myself!”
Amiria tried to comprehend exactly what Sabina was trying to tell her, since she made no sense. They had always argued amongst themselves but somehow hearing her sister threaten to slay her was more than just sibling rivalry. ’Twas when Sabina began to mutter to herself that Amiria truly did worry if her sister had gone mad.
She reached out her hands to console the troubled younger girl. “I know not what has caused you to hate me so, but you are my sister and I love you.”
“Love me? You do not love me but have always made my life miserable. You and Aiden were always the favorites in father’s eyes
,” Sabina screeched. “I was never good enough, but I will show you, and everyone else, that I will have my way. You will not win this battle, Amiria.”
“What battle? Why are you so distraught and angry with me? Talk to me, Sabina.”
“You willna have them both,” she repeated with tears shimmering in her eyes. Crying out, Sabina burst into tears, gave Amiria a mighty shove, and ran from the stables. Amiria made to follow but was halted when Dristan joined her. Sabina’s cries continued to be heard by all as they echoed off the bailey walls.
“What the devil ails that woman?” Dristan asked sharply.
“I am not sure, but it cannot be anything good. I fear for her as I have never done afore,” she replied softly in concern for her sibling.
“I know she is your sister but she and her ways vex my nerves,” he said in annoyance.
Amiria smiled slightly whilst one of the lads brought out Caliana and began the task of saddling her. “I am afraid, my lord, that Sabina tends to irritate all within her path, usually on a daily basis.”
“Then she bears watching so she does not harm those around her, including herself,” Dristan answered sternly.
“I am most worried, Dristan,” she said in a hushed tone. “Perchance I should go and check on her.”
Dristan came to her and took her hand, placing a gentle kiss upon the inside of her wrist. Her surprised look at this small display of affection gave him pause and yet still caused a devilish grin to light his face. “She will be fine. Let us away Amiria and at least for a while enjoy a carefree day. We shall see how long it can last, which I am sure will not be for any prolonged amount of time.”
Her horse ready, Dristan waved off the lad and assisted her into the saddle himself. Once settled, he handed her the reins. She blushed when his fingers brushed her own and she could tell it took much on his part to leave her side.
Amiria admired Dristan’s handsomeness, as he effortlessly leapt into the saddle. With little effort, he easily controlled the massive stallion beneath him. She took one last worried look in the direction of the keep before she turned her mount and followed behind Dristan’s warhorse. Once past the outer walls and drawbridge, they took flight and raced as if trying to catch the wind. With the opportunity to enjoy a day free from the restraints of the castle, Amiria took Dristan’s words to heart and began to enjoy their day, praying for many more to follow.
The fading laughter of the departing couple seemed to hang in the air like a promise of good tidings to come from the heavens above. Those who had been lucky enough to have heard such happiness occurring from their mistress, now went about their duties, feeling light hearted that all would be well at Berwyck Castle.
For one, it only added to the distress on her frantic thoughts and already tortured mind. As she stood high upon the parapet, watching the dust disappear from the jovial couple, Sabina could only wonder if she would be missed, even in the slightest, if she flung herself off the wall to her demise.
Twenty-eight
“But my lord, how can you wed with her if she does not have dark hair like the rest of us?” Patrick ventured to ask as he put down his quill. The lad appeared quite full of himself now that he was in possession of a tunic bearing Dristan’s crest and wore the garment with pride. “I thought all must have black hair, if they are to bear your coat of arms?”
Dristan reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair playfully. Leaning over, he viewed with a practiced eye the parchment on which Patrick had been writing his letters. Picking up the nearby quill, he demonstrated the letter the lad was having difficulty with. “See you here? It goes in this direction,” he said. “Try again, Patrick.”
“Aye, my lord,” Patrick sighed wearily. He began muttering underneath his breath about why he must needs always be studying his letters and such, especially when he would rather be learning sword play.
Amiria grinned, admiring Dristan’s patience with her brother. ’Twas quite the domesticated scene, if she was to ponder upon it for any length, and one she had not thought would come to pass given her lord’s reputation. Normally the lady of the keep would be required to teach a squire his letters, and yet Dristan had insisted he take over this task with her brother. Seeing the tip of the poker was now red hot, she pulled it from the fire and plunged it into a chalice of wine. Allowing the herbs to steep a few moments, she at last reached out and handed the cup to Dristan.
He came to her and took it with a nod of thanks. By the expression on his face he was pleased with her efforts to see to his comfort. Turning back to the lessons at hand, he placed the cup down upon the table to review Patrick’s work again and placed his hand over the boy’s to help him with the correction of his letters. Another weary sigh escaped Patrick from the difficulty he was having.
Amiria let out a brief laugh at the concentration on her brother’s face and caught Lynet’s eye as she looked up from her stitchery wondering at the cause of her mirth.
“I can remember Aiden doing the same thing when mother was trying to teach him his letters,” she declared with a smile. “He never could seem to get them to go in the right direction either.”
Lynet smiled with the memories of their mother as few as they had been. “I do miss her at times, especially when I could use her advice on a particular stitch or even with learning about the healing herbs found in the garden.”
Dristan rose from leaning over Patrick and came to stand beside Lynet. “Kenna tells me you are doing exceedingly well, Lady Lynet, with all she is teaching you. You are a fine addition to my household, and I am glad to know that Berwyck is twice blessed to have two healers in residence.”
Lynet beamed from Dristan’s approval. “Thank you for your kind words, my lord,” she whispered, and resumed her needlework.
Dristan gave her sister a small reassuring pat upon her shoulder. Their gazes met ’til Amiria felt as if he were stripping her of the dark blue gown she wore. Her breath left her, and she smoothed her unbound hair that fell down her back in a riot of red curls. She bit her lower lip and saw how his eyes followed her movements ’til she swore she could almost feel his lips beneath her own, teasing her to allow him entrance. Was it just her, or did the room suddenly become stifling with heat? she wondered.
Finally taking her eyes from his mouth, she raised her gaze to stare up into his twinkling grey eyes. He returned her look with a mischievous grin. The rogue, she mused. He knew exactly where her thoughts had taken her. She attempted to think of some way to save face in front of this over confident man but decided to yield to him at least for now. She sat back in her chair and just enjoyed the sensation of having his full and undivided attention.
Amiria lounged in her chair with the confidence of a woman who knew the effect she was having on him.
The little vixen! he mused. She returned his playful smile with one of her own, and he wished not for the first time this day that the solar was empty save the two of them.
“My lord,” Patrick called from across the solar.
“Aye, Patrick?” Dristan answered, never taking his eyes from Amiria and the picture of perfection she offered him. She was going to make him daft. Perchance they should wed without further haste. He reluctantly dragged his eyes from his lady and turned his attention to the young lad, who motioned for him to come closer. He humored the boy by striding across the room and leaning down next to him.
“She doesn’t have black hair my lord,” he whispered in Dristan’s ear.
Dristan chuckled. “Aye, she does not, does she my boy?” he paused and held out his hand to show a ring he wore on his finger. “But see you here this dragon on my crest? See the flame spew forth from his mouth? Somehow I think the red of her hair will complement us. Do you not think ’tis so?”
“Well . . . I suppose,” Patrick answered softly still not completely at ease that ’twas right. A sideways glance upward and Dristan knew the boy would not argue with his lord.
Dristan’s mirth could no longer be contained as a laugh escaped h
im from viewing Patrick’s expression. “Perchance now is as good a time as any to present my lady with a small pre-wedding gift. ’Tis mayhap not the most normal gift one would bestow upon a lady one is to wed, but I thought it most appropriate.”
He went behind his desk to the corner and removed a tarp that he began folding, hiding from view the rather large box residing up against the wall. With a quick peek over his shoulders, he hid his smile as he watched Amiria, Lynet, and Patrick return to their tasks at hand. In Amiria’s case, she continued to lounge there, looking quite fetching. Lifting up the box, he came to stand afore her and presented his hand for her to rise.
“For you, my lady. I hope you like it,” Dristan said, offering her the present. “If you but lift the lid, I shall hold it steady for you.”
She gazed at the size of the box with a look of puzzlement upon her face. “It appears heavy,” she said. Her creased brow led him to believe she was mystified of what could possibly be in the container of such considerable size.
“Hurry, Amiria, and open it,” Patrick said excitedly as he came to stand next to his siblings.
“Aye, do hurry, Amiria! I just love presents,” exclaimed Lynet.
Amiria began to lift the lid whilst Dristan looked on his lady’s face. He smiled in satisfaction whilst she seemingly pondered the thoughtfulness of his gift. As she peered inside to see her present, her mouth opened silently, for no words could be found apparently to express the joy at what she beheld. She looked at Dristan and a single tear slid down her cheek, for nestled in a bed of purple velvet was the sword he had forged for her.
He watched her joy as her fingers wrapped themselves around the golden hilt of the sword. Pulling it from its velvet bed, she brought it in front of her and gazed upon its flawlessness. The blade had been engraved with two dragons; their tails intertwined as if they were in truth one. That in itself should have spoken more than any words Dristan could ever say to her, for ’twas a reminder of their first time together. She took a quick glance at the hilt that fit her hand perfectly and admired the enormous purple gem winking at her from the firelight.
If My Heart Could See You Page 19