by Mary Yarde
Bastian withheld a smile as he knelt also. One by one, those who had been summoned fell to their knees and Budic knew he had lost. Alden had made his position very clear. This was no surrender. Alden was not asking for sanctuary. The clever bastard, he was manipulating the court. Surely no one in this hall was fooled by such an action? Yet they were all on their knees, every last bloody one of them. If he did what he had planned, then they could turn against him and it might be him on his knees, begging for sanctuary. He had no choice. He would let Alden have victory for this one battle, but he would be damned if he let his brother win the war.
“Then let us ready the army,” he said, looking over everybody’s heads to the wall at the other side of the room.
Alden with his head still bowed, closed his eyes, and smiled.
Annis had never seen so much food in her life. The tables were groaning under the weight of every type of delicacy that she had ever heard of and a few that she had not. Even her father’s feasts did not match the extravagance of the King of Brittany’s Christian celebrations. The entertainment had been amazing, with jugglers and a wonderful storyteller who had told a story of three wise men, a baby, a bright guiding star and an evil king determined to hunt the newborn down and kill him. Annis had sat next to Josephine, who had quietly translated every word that was spoken. Her hand had unconsciously touched her belly as she listened to the story. Like the child in the Bible, her child’s life also depended on the whim of a king.
There was dancing now, which meant Annis had lost Josephine’s company, for she was very skilled on the dance floor and there was rather a queue of both young and old men, waiting to claim a dance with her. Annis did not mind; it was good to see Josephine enjoying herself and she was content enough to sit and watch. She deliberately avoided looking at Alden and thankfully, since the dancing had started, and many had stood up, she could not see him from her position anyway.
She had not seen him. Four long days had passed by since she had last spoken to him on the battlements and there had been not a word. He had promised to keep her safe. She feared that at last he had seen sense and abandoned her. She felt her hand stray to her stomach and saw the old matriarch frown down at her. She quickly removed her hand. She had been frowned down upon a lot over the past few days, more so than before, and she wondered if people knew of her delicate condition. If they did, there were certainly no joyous congratulations.
What would it be like to die? She wondered as she watched the celebrations happen around her. How would her father do it?
Merton plonked himself down next to her. Annis moved to make room for him on the bench. His eyes were bleary and his face was red.
“Should you not be with the rest of the nobility?” Annis teased. Josephine had not stopped taking about Merton now that he was back and she had been right about him; he was incredibly entertaining and had been shadowing their table all evening, telling jokes and making a bit of a spectacle of himself. She would have enjoyed his company and his teasing if the blade of death was not hanging over her head and if her heart was not broken in two.
Merton gave her an enigmatic look and reached for a pastry. “I think I may be drunk, for real this time,” he added when he saw Annis’s face.
“As long as you don’t go around cutting off maidens’ hair, then I am sure you will be fine.” She didn’t know where that had come from. But she found around Merton, she could speak freely and besides he teased her; surely it was her right to tease him back.
Merton choked on the pastry. Trying not to laugh at the expression on his face, Annis banged him on the back.
“Thank you.” Merton gasped, reaching for her wine goblet. He screwed up his face when he tasted the contents.
“What did you expect?” Annis said, feeling a smile tug at her lips. “No wines from the land of Frank for us.”
“I dread to think what this is. It tastes like cat piss,” Merton exclaimed, pushing a plate out of the way so he could put the goblet back down.
“And you’d know all about that,” Annis answered.
He ignored her as he reached for her hand and studied her fingers. “You are very beautiful.” He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “You know, Alden is not as great as you believe. Come home with me instead.”
“And what about Josephine?”
Merton frowned at her question.
“I have seen the way she looks at you and the way you look at her,” Annis explained, taking her hand back.
“She has no claim on me.”
Annis narrowed her eyes.
He raised his head and looked at her. “We have grown up together. She is like my sister.”
“Is that what you tell yourself?”
“No. I really do think of her as my little sister.” He looked across the hall to where Josephine danced. “She is such a show-off.”
“She loves you, and not like a brother,” Annis said carefully. She didn’t want to make trouble. “She is in love with you, I am sure of it.”
“I know she is,” Merton said. “But I don’t feel the same. Do me a favour, Annis, and change the subject.”
“All right. Do you ever wish you weren’t who you are?” Annis asked, cautiously.
“Oh my days, I have no idea what you are talking about now. Begin the sentence again and this time say Merton, let us have a conversation about…” He waved his hand in the air.
Annis nudged him with her elbow. “Stop it. You know what I mean.
Don’t you think it would be simpler if we were just commoners and we didn’t have to worry about marrying for position and power?”
“No,” Merton said, and they both laughed at the way he said it. “The wine is terrible. I wouldn’t survive a week. We are what we are, Annis du Lac, there is no denying it.”
“Don’t call me that,” Annis said, trying not to show him how much it hurt her to be addressed so.
Merton sat back, a sympathetic smile on his face. “Have you spoken to Alden yet? He has been busy securing — ”
“He has not sought me out,” Annis interrupted.
Merton frowned. Sometimes his brother was really stupid. “You need to speak to him.”
Annis risked a glance at the top table, where she saw Alden talking intently to Budic. “I think he has changed allegiance.” Annis said sadly.
Merton looked to where she did. “I doubt it. Let’s dance.”
“Merton, I don’t think so.” But he had her hand and had pulled her to her feet. She didn’t want to dance, but she could hardly struggle against his hold; people were staring at her as it was. He turned his head to look at her as he led the way through the crowd. She glowered at him and he smiled. She valiantly attempted to dig in her heels and he must have felt the pull on his hand because he stopped and reached for her arm, bringing her alongside him.
“I want to dance,” he whispered into her ear. “But, if you prefer we could just skip over the pleasantries and I’ll take you to bed.”
His breath was hot against her ear, but it wasn’t the same as when Alden did it. She had no desire to turn her head and capture his lips with hers. She did however gasp at his frankness and turned her face to look at him. In his face there was only humour.
“What would you do if I said yes?” she couldn’t help but ask, wanting to see him squirm with embarrassment.
No such luck. Merton’s eyes lit up with mischief. “I’d take you to my bedchamber and show you heaven. But you are not going to say yes, because you love him.” He tilted his head in the direction of Alden.
The last dance was just ending; Merton placed Annis in front of him, his hand resting on the small of her back. He looked towards the royal table. Budic was now deep in conversation with Bastian, Anna sat next to him, trying her best not to look bored, and Alden’s was watching every move that Annis made, his face stony. Good, Merton thoug
ht to himself, let’s see how long he can stand seeing his woman in the arms of another man. He led Annis on to the dance floor.
“I really am an appalling dancer,” she whispered to him. She had always felt self-conscious dancing in front of others.
“I never said I was any good either,” Merton stated. He brushed his lips across her cheek and leant in closer to her ear. “I promise to make myself look more incompetent than you.”
“Thank you so much for the consideration.” Annis blushed. She looked around her and saw the judgmental stares of the other couples.
“Anytime,” Merton said. “Ignore them,” he advised, seeing what she saw. “I am determined to enjoy myself tonight and as you have decided not to share my bed, dancing will have to do. Come, let us shock them all with our dancing skills.”
Alden sat through the first dance, his eyes riveted on his brother and his wife. He wondered what Merton was saying to her, because he had never seen her laugh so much before. Her face was flushed from the exertion of the dance and her eyes sparkled. Good Lord, why did he have to keep touching her? The music had ended and all the dancers were waiting for the next dance to start. Alden watched as Josephine came up to Annis, taking her hands and whispering something in her ear. Annis threw back her head and laughed in delight.
“Your Majesty,” Lady Amandine curtsied sweetly, “are you not dancing tonight?”
“My Lady.” Alden did not smile or notice that she had addressed him with his former title; her interruption of his surveillance of his wife did nothing to improve his mood. “I am afraid I do not feel inclined to tonight.” He ignored Amandine and kept his eyes fixed on Annis. The music had started up again and Merton had taken her hand. He watched as he leant over and whispered something in her ear and then he stole a quick kiss on the side of her neck. How he remained seated he did not know. He knew how sensitive Annis was there and he was suddenly back in their chamber in Sussex...
… she was gasping his name, her hands digging into his hair, urging him to continue, her legs wrapped around his waist...
His hands balled into fists.
“Merton looks like Garren,” Amandine mused. “Every time I see him the likeness becomes more obvious.”
“He isn’t Garren.”
“No.” Amandine agreed. “Merton is his own man.”
“Garren and I,” Lady Amandine paused and took a steadying breath, “wasted a lot of time by not saying how we felt. I told him, for the first time, that I loved him on the day he left for Cerniw. That was the last time I saw him.”
“Amandine,” Alden said, looking at her now.
“You love her like I loved him. Go to her. Don’t waste time. She needs you now more than ever. Dancing with Merton is a form of torture anyway; I know because I have danced with him far to many times before. I think she would rather be dancing with you.” Amandine sighed heavily as she saw an elderly gentleman waving at her. “Lord Bretagne is trying to get my attention.”
Alden looked to where she looked.
“I envy your Annis and I pray she never finds herself in the situation I am in. I must attend him, for Budic told me so.”
Alden watched as Lady Amandine walked towards Lord Bretagne. He wished he could do something to help her, but he had asked enough of Budic as it was; he dare not ask any more.
Lady Amandine caught Merton’s eye and winked. Annis saw the gesture and looked at Merton for an explanation.
“What are you all up to?” Annis asked suspiciously.
“Nothing,” Merton said with an air of innocence.
“I don’t believe that,” she said as he handed her another goblet of wine. This time it was the good stuff that he had commandeered from the top table. “I think you are trying to get me drunk.”
“And what if I am?” Merton asked with wide-eyed innocence. He took the goblet from her fingers, placing it back on the table. He twirled her around and took her back to the dance floor.
21
The dancing continued well into the early hours of the morning, and there seemed to be no indication that the feasting was ending. Annis sat down, her feet aching, whilst servants brought in yet more food. She watched as Merton and Josephine danced together, and she wondered if she was the only one who could see the tender looks that Josephine cast his way. She sighed and looked away, her eyes straying to where Alden sat, but his chair was empty; he must have retired. She covered her mouth with her hand to hide a yawn. Now that she had stopped dancing she felt weary. She moved over, making room, as a courtier sat down beside her.
“Are you intent on torturing me?” Alden asked her softly, taking her hand in his and resting it between them, his thumb drew lazy circles on her palm.
“I do not know what you mean,” Annis stated. She tried to pull her hand away, but he held fast.
“You know exactly what I mean.”
“I am sorry, I do not.” Annis looked at Alden in confusion.
Alden tilted his head towards his brother.
“Merton?” She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
She wouldn’t. Why would she? She would never set out to make him jealous. She was carrying his baby, for goodness sake. But he was jealous. He was jealous that his brother had danced with her, whereas he never had.
“I’m sorry.” “You thought?” They spoke at the same time.
“He asked me to dance. I didn’t want to.” Annis pulled her hand away and rose, too angry to even speak let alone curtsy. She made her way through the crowd and out of the room.
Alden caught up with her on the stairs, catching hold of her arm and swinging her around to face him.
“What was he saying to you? You were laughing.”
“Nothing important.” Annis yanked her arm free. “He was being friendly.”
“Too friendly. He was all over you.”
“I cannot win, not matter what I do. Just leave me alone.” Annis turned to go.
“No, stay. I’m sorry. I didn’t like seeing his hands on you. I didn’t like you being that close to him.”
“You are jealous?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You are unbelievable. I welcomed his attention, I did,” Annis snapped angrily, “because otherwise I would have spent the evening alone. I hate it here.”
“I know.” Alden spoke quietly, “I know you do. I do as well.”
“I hate you.”
He smiled at her then, and she was so enraged that he could find anything about her situation amusing that she raised her hand to hit him. He caught it before she made contact with his skin. She tried to yank her hand free, but he held steadfast.
“Annis.” The smile was gone from his face now.
Some curious onlookers passed them on the stairs. Alden waited until they were alone again. Then he let go of her hand and grabbed her arm again, this time a little firmer. “I apologised, I meant it.”
“I don’t think an apology will ever be enough. Let me go.” The anger had gone from her voice now. She felt tired and dizzy and sick. She wanted to retreat to her chamber and collapse on the bed.
“I can’t do this, anymore,” she said wearily.
“By this you mean us?”
Annis swayed and suddenly she felt very faint. It was too much. Alden held her more firmly, his arm coming about her waist to steady her. “You need to lie down,” he stated softly.
He was right, she did; so she did not complain as he led her up the stairs and into a room with a large bed. It was furnished with a lavish counterpane, which despite her feeling of weakness made her stop and stare, for never had she ever seen anything as beautiful in her life.
Alden, mistaking her appreciation for fatigue, picked her up and carried her towards the bed, settling her down gently upon it. She felt the counterpane under her fingers and resisted the urge to get up so she would not crease the material.
&
nbsp; Alden sat down next to her and made her drink some cool, refreshing water and slowly her head stopped spinning and the feeling of sickness passed. Now she could take in her surroundings. The room was warm, a novelty for this cold castle. A fire burnt happily in the hearth and next to the fire was enough wood, stored in a wicker basket, to keep the fire burning all night if necessary. The room was filled with the softness of candlelight and she could just make out the shapes of tapestries that hung on the wall. It was a far cry from the room she and Josephine shared. She looked at Alden, who was watching her with concern. This must be his room. She closed her eyes. She knew she had been reaching for the stars when she dreamt of him, before she had rescued him. Now all her fears had been confirmed. The wealth of this room surpassed anything her father could have shown off at one of his feasts. The du Lac’s were an old family, an old, wealthy one. She had forgotten.
“I shouldn’t be here. I have no right to be here,” she mumbled as she tried to rise.
Alden caught hold of her hand. “My wife has every right to be in my room.” He gently traced the outline of her cheek. “I miss you. I miss you so much.”
And suddenly she was tired of arguing with him, tired of telling herself all the reasons why she did not belong with him.
Taking his hand, she placed it gently on her stomach, where their baby grew, and watched, fascinated, at the smile that transformed his face.
“That night in Natanleod’s fort was the best night of my life.” He kissed her gently on the forehead, his hand still on her stomach. “I did not think that night could have gotten any better, but it has. I love you so much.”
“I don’t really hate you,” she mumbled.
“You have every right to. By God, you have every right.” He raised his hand and touched her cheek softly, so, so, softly. “Look what I have done to you. I have made your life a living hell. I have been thinking about Natanleod a lot, and it should have been me. I should have been the one who died. He would have made you happy. I never liked the man, but…”
“I don’t regret saving your life,” Annis interrupted, capturing his hand in hers.