by Abby Gordon
“Your destiny, my lord?” the priest frowned.
“You’ll be marrying us as soon as we return to the manor,” he replied.
The man blinked as they rode off, his lady held securely before him. Looking at the senior footmen, Wenceslas frowned. Jordan and Sinclair bound the survivors and started them walking.
“Jordan?”
With a grin, Jordan glanced at the other footmen, who chuckled.
“A long story that is best told over a few tankards, Father.”
“Excellent idea,” he agreed eagerly.
****
They rounded the drive and the manor appeared. Amanda sighed and tilted her head to smile up at him.
“Home,” she murmured.
He nodded as the doors swung open, and they heard the cheers of Heinrich and Bettina.
“Home,” he agreed.
Wulfgar looked up to see the pair hurrying down the steps to meet them and realized the manor was “home” again. It hadn’t felt that way since the deaths of his parents. But with his soon-to-be bride, her father and his wife, plus their future children, it would be again. Full of laughter and shouts as sons and daughters raced about.
He carefully dismounted. Bettina rushed forward. She ignored Bane’s hackles rising.
“Amanda?”
“I’m unharmed,” she assured her stepmother. “Wulfgar and Bane saved me.”
“Thank the good Lord,” Bettina murmured, crossing herself.
“But you are injured,” Amanda frowned, seeing the bruising on the other woman’s face. “The others in the manor?”
“Let’s get you inside out of the cold,” she deflected the question.
Nodding, Wulfgar strode inside. Amanda cried softly as she saw the harm suffered by the staff.
“Put me down,” she insisted. “I won’t be coddled when others were hurt trying to protect me.”
Reluctant, Wulfgar glanced at Heinrich and saw the quiet pride in the man’s face. Pride that one child of his had compassion, a sense of duty and honor. Nodding, he set her carefully on her feet. Gathering up the cloak over an arm, she went to the nearest footman. Still holding the leather bag of medicines and bandages, Bettina joined her and Maari stuck to their heels.
“Anders regained consciousness briefly and we moved him to his room,” Heinrich murmured as Wulfgar closed the front door. “Mrs. Anders, the chef, and two others are with him in the servants’ quarters.”
“Three of them still live,” the Baron said quietly. “From them, we will get the entire story.”
“Bettina told me what they said,” he replied, pain in his voice. “That Aaron…that he basically sold Amanda to them to cover his gambling losses. I do not understand what happened to my son. I know he was dissatisfied with our town and sneered at it. I knew he was putting on airs and affectations he hadn’t earned, but…”
“The king’s court can easily corrupt even the strongest,” Wulfgar consoled him. “Men such as those who came here today prey on those who are vulnerable. They seek out those who show the slightest weakness and relish ensnaring those from the provinces and towns.”
“You’ve been to court for long periods of time?”
Wulfgar understood the question. Given what Heinrich would have found in the room he and Bettina were in, as well as the salacious and immoral lifestyle of most of those at court, the man had every right, despite Wulfgar’s earlier denunciation of him, to express concern about the man his daughter wanted to marry. What worried him was Heinrich’s opinion of the Crown Prince. Clearly, Amanda loved her cousin. He would have to tread carefully not to alienate his future king and kinsman. Her message from Karl about having to do things to survive came to mind.
“To survive at court, one, whether a man or woman, must do things their conscience cries out against. As the king stopped here a few years ago, I was ordered to ensure a room for his special requirements.” Seeking solace against those very things, he let his gaze fall on Amanda now near the grand staircase. “The king keeps a depraved court. I’ve spent as little time there as possible.” His mouth twisted slightly. “Perhaps fortunately, I’m a better soldier than obsequious courtier and as the king has waged war against all our neighbors, I had a legitimate excuse for not dancing attendance on him.” He met Heinrich’s gaze directly. “What is done at court will not be a part of my marriage to Amanda.”
Relieved, the Guild Master nodded. “I’m slightly ashamed to admit that I used a few of the items to ensure Bettina’s wifely submission.”
“They were tools to your ends,” replied Wulfgar.
“Tools I doubt I’ll need again. Although,” the older man paused, his gaze on his wife, “she did seem to like being reminded of how helpless she was, as well as,” he added quickly, darting a glance at the baron, “how much she could trust me.”
“It sounded as if her mother tried to poison her against you and Amanda.”
The lawyer nodded with a grim, stern countenance.
“And tried to keep Bettina from bearing my child.”
“What will you do when you return home?”
Heinrich’s mouth curved slightly. “Bettina suggested we borrow the lash and paddle. I suggested we ignore any invitations to her parents’ home and not be at home when they called. If Otto questions me at the guild offices, I’ll tell him. Making it public would do more harm to Bettina than any harm it would do to her mother. I have told my wife that I do not want her alone with her mother under any circumstances. She agreed.”
The main door opened and Father Wenceslas entered. Nodding at the two men nearby, he immediately started looking after the wounded. Behind him came Jordan who closed the door. The young groom clenched his jaw at the sight and, with barely restrained temper, went to the baron.
“Sinclair is taking the surviving bandits to the cellars,” he said quietly. “Where is Anders?”
Wulfgar glanced at Heinrich and nodded for him to answer.
“Anders was shot and hit severely on the head. Mrs. Anders and the others are tending him in their quarters.”
“My lord?”
“Go, Jordan.” The groom ran to the rear of the manor. At Heinrich’s puzzled look, Wulfgar explained. “Anders is his uncle. When the fever swept the countryside ten years ago, Jordan’s parents were among the dead. He came here.”
Having made a complete round of the great hall, Amanda and Bettina joined their men. Silently the women leaned against them, and the men held them close.
Chapter Nine
While tending the wounded with Bettina, Amanda had been mentally wrestling with something. She knew she had to. Honor demanded it. Compassion demanded it.
“I need to go to Anders.”
“Amanda,” came her father’s voice, low and full of warning.
“I must,” she insisted, meeting his eyes then lifting her head to look at Wulfgar. “Your people don’t fear you. I must trust that they won’t fear me.”
“Beloved, what do you mean?”
“I can’t leave Anders in pain. Not while I can heal him.”
“Amanda, his wounds are serious,” Bettina told her. “His blood loss great and there is a hollow in his skull.”
“Then I must waste no more time,” she stated. “Melly?” she called to the maid who had helped her dress that morning. “Take me to Anders.”
“My lady?” Melly turned, her jaw dropping.
“Now,” Amanda said firmly. “Before there is nothing I can do to help him.”
Startled, everyone turned to stare at her. Impatient, Amanda turned to look at the baron. Wulfgar saw her expression.
Beloved.
I can help him.
“I’ll take you to him,” he told her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her past the staircase.
Her father and Bettina followed them. She could hear the whispers of the servants and prayed that she wasn’t too late. Beyond the door to the staff area of the mansion, the floor changed from polished wood to tile. The walls were cream instead of
covered in pale silks.
Wulfgar took her up a narrow stairway and, hearing the sobs, she hurried ahead of him and turned to the left when she reached the top. Nearly running, she went to the open door. Barely keeping the cloak around her, she paused in the doorway.
Mrs. Anders sat in a chair on the far side of the bed Anders had been placed on. Hands on her shoulders, Jordan stood behind her, a look of helpless grief on his face. Georg and another man were arguing on what to do.
“Outside. Both of you,” she ordered, moving to the bed.
“My lady, this isn’t proper,” Georg said, trying to block her progress as Wulfgar appeared behind her. “My lord,” he whispered, bowing slightly.
“Let my lady tend to Anders,” the baron rumbled. “What do you need, Beloved?”
“Quiet,” she replied, bending over Anders’ head.
Georg retreated to the foot of the bed but the other man protested.
“What does she think…”
“Osher, be quiet or leave the room,” Wulfgar cut him off.
Amanda assumed the man had done one or the other but didn’t turn her head to see. Putting her right hand where the blow had fallen, she closed her eyes and focused.
****
Wulfgar stepped into the room as silently as possible, his gaze sweeping the four servants. Georg had a hand on Osher as they stood back. Jordan lifted grief-filled eyes to see what was happening.
Amanda murmured something in a language he’d never heard. A soft yellow glow started in her chest and flowed down her arm to where her hand was cupped against the butler’s hair. Slowly, the light spread until her entire body seemed to shine with it.
Her voice rose and fell with the chant and the light pulsed. Her left hand moved over Anders’ chest, then to his shoulder. The light flared, encompassing both of them.
His jaw slack in wonder, Wulfgar stared as the room brightened. He tilted his head as he thought he heard singing in the language she was chanting. Heinrich, Bettina, and Father Wenceslas entered the room quietly behind him.
Suddenly everything was silent and the light disappeared. Amanda straightened and swayed on her feet. Wulfgar stepped forward and pulled her into his arms.
Easy, Beloved.
He needs rest, but will heal.
He felt her body relax against his chest and looked at Anders. The man stirred, murmured, and opened his eyes.
Mrs. Anders gasped and leaned forward into his line of sight. With both of her hands, she lifted her husband’s to her lips. Jordan caught back a sob then exhaled as tears filled his eyes anyway.
“Thank you, my lady,” he whispered. “Thank you.”
“A miracle,” the priest murmured, crossing himself. “God works through you, my lady.”
Wulfgar held her close, grateful for the priest’s words. Word would spread about what Amanda had done, but Wenceslas’s words would cast her actions as something holy, instead of something evil.
“Indeed,” Georg’s bass rumbled. “Only an angel would dare marry our baron.”
A faint smile curling his lips, Wulfgar glanced over his shoulder and saw the chef’s beaming face. Osher, his headman in the stables, stared in shock at the man on the bed.
“He was barely breathing,” he whispered. “I’ve seen men killed from less of a blow. Truly a miracle.”
As relief filled him, Wulfgar turned his gaze to Heinrich and Bettina. Unshed tears filled the man’s eyes.
“I didn’t know,” he said quietly. “I was too afraid to listen to what Amalia tried to tell me. I…I didn’t want to know what she could do.”
“Not something we want my mother to know about,” Bettina added.
“No, we don’t,” her husband agreed with a nod as he held her close.
Do you need to do anything else, Beloved?
No.
Her thought was so faint he became worried. Are you all right?
I’ll be fine. Her head shifted so he could see her face. I’m understanding some of what was in my mother’s journals.
Which was?
He felt the heat of her desire even as she blushed.
After she would teach me certain things, she longed for my father and nightfall.
Really? I like that. And not just nightfall if I want you.
He saw the blush in her cheeks before she buried her face against his shoulder.
“Amanda?” Bettina stepped toward them. “Are you all right?”
She lifted her head and smiled.
“I am, but I’ll be better once I’m wedded to my lord.”
Bettina chuckled and held out her hand.
“Then let’s go get you prepared.”
Reluctantly, Wulfgar let her be pulled from his side. As the two women left the room, Heinrich came to him.
“The groom has some readying to do as well,” his future father-in-law stated with a smile.
“I need to make sure everyone in the hall…”
“I’ll tend to that, my lord,” Osher spoke up. “Georg will prepare one of his masterpieces. And I’ll have Lallas cut every flower in the greenhouse for our future lady.”
“Thank you,” Wulfgar said simply.
****
Bettina waited only until they had left the servants’ area through the second floor door before she whispered.
“How can you do that?”
“My mother was of Flaradian heritage,” Amanda said softly as they walked along the hall. “She taught me several things, and left me a journal that I keep with me always.”
“You can do more?” Bettina’s blue eyes were wide with wonder. “What?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted, pausing to look up at the portrait of the previous baroness. “Bettina, what am I doing? I’m just a Guild Master’s daughter. I know nothing of being a noble lady. I’m scared to death that if we go to court, and I know at some point we’ll have to, that I’ll embarrass Wulfgar by doing or saying something wrong that would insult someone and…”
“Shh,” Bettina said soothingly, drawing her farther down the hall to her room. “You wouldn’t because you can’t. You’re the sweetest, gentlest girl I know. You did splendidly when we were at court…”
“Because I spent as much time as I could at the museums and libraries,” Amanda laughed softly.
“True, but when you did come with us, you were very popular and I was told by many how wonderful they thought you were. A bit too intelligent for many, but most at court didn’t seem to like women who read more than the society pages.”
“Most at court don’t like women who do more than dance, gossip, and arrange flowers,” drawled Amanda as they reached her bedroom door. She opened it and entered, going to the wardrobe where Melly was arranging the new dresses. “Now, which one should I wear?”
“This is true,” Bettina sighed, closing the door behind them. “The pink or the yellow I think. We’ve no time for a white dress, but that seems more a court affectation than a country tradition.”
Amanda sent her a teasing look.
“So now country traditions are more appealing than what is done at court?”
Blushing, Bettina nodded and studied the two dresses Melly held up.
“Yes, I’ve discovered that our quiet town is more to my liking.”
Amanda held the rose dress to her and looked in the mirror.
“And I’m entering a brand new world here,” she whispered, fighting back the nervousness.
Bettina’s face appeared behind her and then her arms brought her in for a hug.
“You will be wonderful,” she encouraged quietly. “Your lord will be there and so will everyone here. But,” she grinned over Amanda’s shoulder at their reflections, “you can’t get married if you’re not dressed. Let’s get this bride ready, Melly.”
Chapter Ten
Wulfgar and his future father-in-law discussed more serious topics than fashion. The door to his bedroom closed and Heinrich paced over to the tall windows.
“You knew what her mot
her could do,” Wulfgar stated, slowly crossing the room and standing next to him.
“Not until after we were married,” Heinrich said. “And when I realized just what her people could do, had done, I felt as if I’d been tricked into marrying her.” He shook his head. “She tried to explain things and I wouldn’t listen. When Amanda was five, I found the two of them in the garden and,” he clenched his jaw and swallowed, “I’m ashamed of how I reacted. And again, after Amalia died, I found Amanda practicing what her mother had taught her.”
“You beat her? Beat them both?” Wulfgar snarled.
“I said I was ashamed of how I reacted,” Heinrich ground out. “I hid every paper I had on her family so Aaron wouldn’t know. It was for selfish reasons. I didn’t want him to know how I’d been fooled. Considering the change in him after he left for university, I’m glad I did for other reasons. I can only imagine what he would have done this fall if he had known…”
“If he had known that Amanda’s cousin is Crown Prince Karl?” Wulfgar said quietly.
“She told you.”
“Of course. There are no secrets between us.”
Heinrich turned his head.
“As his cousin, would you need his approval or permission to marry her?”
“I wouldn’t think so,” Wulfgar said after a moment. “The connection is through their mothers. And from what Amanda has told me, he approves of the match anyway.”
“He…” Heinrich’s jaw dropped. “How could he possibly know about the two of you?”
There was a knock on the door.
“Enter,” called Wulfgar, turning to see Jordan open the door.
“I thought I would help you dress, my lord.”
“Thank you, Jordan. How is Anders?”
“Finished a bowl of broth and insisting he is fine enough to attend the wedding.”
“Excellent. And so he shall.”
Jordan went to the wardrobe and opened the doors.
“Court attire, my lord?”
“Yes, that seems quite appropriate.”
While Jordan removed the clothes and began brushing them, Wulfgar turned to the waiting Heinrich.
“Apparently, Amanda and her cousin have a mental link that permits communication. It’s how he was able to save her from the attentions of Aaron’s friends at the museum.”