“To you?”
“To me.”
Lord Trevelyan nodded. “That has the ring of truth to it. DeGuerre is a clever man who appreciates the value of a good commander and has the wisdom not to offend a wealthy man, even if he is a fool. But you have no objections to the alliance, then?”
“None whatsoever.” Roger thought a moment, regarding this old friend of his parents and deciding to tell him the truth, although he had some difficulty forming the words. His mind was foggy, because he was tired. “I thought Madeline would be safe with a fellow like Chilcott. Another, stronger man might look askance at her stubborn whims. I thought he would let her have a freer hand.”
“Well,” Lord Trevelyan said, giving Roger a fatherly smile, “now we come to it. Did you tell her this?”
“No.”
Lord Trevelyan sighed for the stubborn arrogance of this older brother, then smiled. “I would suggest you not be reticent when she is found.”
“Then you think we will find her?” For the first time since Madeline had disappeared, Roger permitted some of his doubt and anxiety to show.
“If she is anywhere within thirty miles of here, Hu will find her,” Roger heard Lord Trevelyan say as the room seemed to swirl about him and he fell into a swoon.
Chapter Ten
“Look! There’s a badger!” Madeline cried softly, pointing at the chubby creature ambling across the path. The day was warm and sunny, the sky free of clouds, the air fresh with the scent of blossoms and growing things.
Dafydd’s only response was a frown. She seemed curiously excited by the sight, just as she had seemed rather jovial lately, no doubt because she felt she was in command of the situation.
Let her think what she liked, he told himself. It made no difference to him. At least she had purchased a less revealing gown, just as he had wasted no time purchasing a flint. There would be no more nights beside her, he had vowed when he had awakened two days ago to find her snuggled contentedly in his arms. Since then, he had been careful to stay as far from her as he could.
Unfortunately, that was not proving very easy. Although the new garment she wore was not nearly so tight as the other, he was well aware of her shapely, exciting body beneath it. He also caught himself simply enjoying watching her: her smile, her eyes, her hair, her gestures.
God’s blood, he should have gone with that serving wench at the alehouse. He didn’t doubt she would have been only too willing, and then perhaps he would find it easier to ignore Madeline.
“I need to rest,” Madeline said a few moments later, not waiting for an answer as she sat down under a large and ancient oak tree.
Dafydd frowned and set down their pack. To speak the truth, the shade was cool and so welcome, but he would not admit that he could use the rest, too. Nor would he tell her that his shoulder ached a little from too many nights sleeping on the cold, hard ground. “We have not come very far this morning,” he said, furtively examining her as he sat beside her. “You told me you could make the journey.”
“I can,” she replied. “I am just tired and need a brief rest.”
She did look pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Why, she looked not just tired, but sick, which worried him. Despite her assurances, this trek was too much for a highborn woman surely used to walking no farther than from the sleeping quarters of the convent to its chapel. He should take better care to see that she rested. They still had several miles to go.
“Would you care for some water?” he asked not unkindly.
She shook her head, her hand on her stomach.
Which made him think of something else. Perhaps the night they had made love, they had made something else, too. “Do you feel...” He paused, not certain of the Norman word for nauseous.
“It is nothing serious,” she assured him with a weak smile. “It is my women’s time.”
So, not with child. He told himself that naturally he was pleased by this.
“Quiet!” she whispered suddenly. “Listen!”
From the distance came the far-off muffled jingle of a harness, a low baying of hounds, the hoofbeats of horses and the sound of men’s voices. Madeline thought she recognized one of the voices, but before she could be sure, Dafydd grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her into the nearby bracken. Her cramps forgotten, she paid no heed to the thorns scratching her arms, either.
“Dogs!” Dafydd swore softly. Quickly he led her farther until they splashed through a narrow, muddy stream. “Up there!” he ordered, taking hold of her and shoving her up to the lowest branch of an oak tree. “Go as high as you can and keep still!”
“Where are you—?”
He didn’t answer, for he was already shinnying up another nearby oak tree with the bundle’s rope between his teeth. Through the branches of her tree, Madeline could make out a group of riders, five in number, on the road, with kindly Lord Trevelyan at their head and another knight at his side. They had dogs with them, but the beasts seemed confused and unsure of the trail.
She had but to climb down from this tree and show herself to Lord Trevelyan to be finished with this adventure comprised of dread and discomfort. Lord Trevelyan would take her to his fine castle, where she could bathe and have a hot meal and a decent bed. Nor would Lord Trevelyan, who had a daughter near in age to her and who had known her from infancy, let Roger bully her into marriage.
Yes, all she had to do was climb down from this tree...and leave Dafydd behind forever.
She stayed in the tree.
“I think we’ve come too far,” Lord Trevelyan said, pulling his horse to a stop not far from her tree. “They wouldn’t be this far east, Hu.”
“They might, if he’s trying to lead us a merry chase,” replied the man Madeline realized must be Lord Trevelyan’s son-in-law. Hu Morgan was a Welshman, too, and she glanced at Dafydd—and was startled by the grim look of recognition on Dafydd’s face as he watched Morgan. How did Dafydd know Lord Trevelyan’s son-in-law?
“He’s clever, so it’s not going to be easy catching him,” Morgan observed.
Madeline was glad she had hesitated. As much as she wanted to enjoy the creature comforts she had done without of late, she might have endangered Dafydd. That would be a poor recompense for his help.
“But what of Madeline? Surely she would find a way to help us locate her?”
Morgan nodded. “I have to think Father Gabriel might have hit on something there. Perhaps the lady doesn’t want to be found.”
Who was this Father Gabriel, and how did he know so much about her? She glanced again at Dafydd but could detect nothing in his still, expressionless face. He blended into the foliage like an animal used to hiding from a formidable predator.
“I don’t know what I’m going to tell Roger,” Lord Trevelyan said, shaking his head. “Is he any better this morning? I thought I would faint myself, to see a man like Roger swoon!”
Madeline suppressed a gasp. She had assumed Roger was well. Or at least she had told herself so, selfishly focusing on her own problems. She leaned forward to hear better.
“It is not serious. Father Gabriel is quite convinced he simply needs to rest. Liliana says he’s looking much better this morning.”
“Thank heaven for that,” Lord Trevelyan replied, and Madeline echoed his sentiment. “This looks hopeless, Hu. I suggest we turn back to the main road.”
Morgan nodded and the mounted men turned their beasts back the way they had come. Madeline began to breathe easier, until Morgan paused and glanced back over his shoulder, directly at her tree. She held her breath.
But just as quickly, Morgan turned and rejoined the others, and they disappeared from view.
Madeline looked toward Dafydd, but he made no move to get down, and neither did she. She would wait until he thought it safe.
She eyed him from her perch, noting the thoughtful expression on his face, the still-grim set of his lips and his watchful eyes.
After what seemed an interminable time, Dafydd climbed do
wn and went to the bottom of her tree. He caught her deftly as she slowly made her way down and set her lightly on her feet. “Do you think they saw us?” she asked anxiously.
He shook his head. “No, or not going away.”
“How do you know Hu Morgan?”
“Who’s that?”
“You know as well as I. The man with Lord Trevelyan.”
“That was Lord Trevelyan?”
“Yes,” she answered, puzzled because she believed that he truly didn’t know the older man, yet she was just as certain he knew Morgan.
“Why did you hide, then?” he asked, his gaze shrewd and all too penetrating.
“I wasn’t sure who it was at first,” she said, taking refuge in a lie.
“They were in plain sight.”
“It was so unexpected. I was confused and uncertain...”
“You uncertain?” He gave her a skeptical look. “Your brother is in Trevelyan’s castle, too, I gather. You could be riding there now, safe and sound.”
“I...I know. I didn’t want them to take you prisoner.”
“You it was assured me I’d have nothing to fear from Trevelyan.”
“And I still think so. I just can’t be sure, and I owe it to you to see that no harm comes to you.”
“Ever the gracious lady,” he replied sarcastically. “I don’t need your protection.”
“Maybe I should have gone with Lord Trevelyan.”
“Go after him, then,” Dafydd challenged, crossing his arms defiantly.
Did he want her to go? she wondered, suddenly afraid to look into his eyes and see confirmation there. Then she realized she was behaving like a coward. If he wanted her gone, she should face the truth and leave. She took a deep breath and raised her eyes to his. “Is that what you want?” she demanded.
“Yes,” he said, but she saw a deeper truth in his eyes.
“Truly?” she asked, wanting him to say what she saw in the dark depths, wanting him to admit to the emotion there that set her heart on fire and filled her with wild elation.
He could not continue to meet her steadfast gaze. “What does it matter what I want?” he muttered at last. “I am a Welsh peasant and you are a Norman noblewoman.”
“Tell me, right here and now, that you wish I would go away and that you would be happy never to see me again,” she insisted. “Or let me go with you to Wales.”
“This is foolishness!” he cried, turning and striding away.
He could not bring himself to lie to her. He knew now he was no better than a boy besotted by his first love. He had realized it the moment he understood that she could have left him there, to go with Lord Trevelyan. At that instant, the idea of being without her had filled his heart with pain.
So this was love, he thought bitterly. A wondrous, desperate emotion. Despite her words, he knew that they could not be together. Too much existed to separate them. Oh, perhaps not now, when they were both filled with the heat and joy of their passion, but later, when the days passed, and she began to think upon the things she had given up. No, there was no future for them.
“Dafydd, answer me!”
“Madeline,” he said forcefully, “I have nothing to offer you. No castle, no money, no home of any kind.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should. You will, in time.”
“Listen to me, Dafydd. Life under Mother Bertrilde’s rule was as harsh as anything you have experienced. I would gladly trade everything my brother or any other Norman could give me to stay with you for the rest of my life.”
A fleeting feeling of hope and joy crossed his face, only to disappear nearly as quickly when he twisted away. “No matter what we feel, it is impossible.”
“Why? You love me. I know you do.”
“Madeline, say no more,” he warned. “You are who you are, and I am who I am. There is no changing things.” He started to walk again, and she fell into step beside him.
“Where are we going?”
“To take you to Lord Trevelyan.”
She halted abruptly. He thought things could not change. But they had for her the moment she had set eyes upon him, and she would make him see that she was not the woman he seemed to think she was.
She was a woman passionately in love with him, and try as he might to deny it, she knew he loved her, too. He simply saw the obstacles, but she was not one to let an obstacle stand in her way. She only needed more time to let him see that they could have a life together, that she was indeed willing to cast aside wealth to be with him. “You said you would take me to Lord Gervais.”
“Trevelyan’s is closer.”
“What about Morgan?”
“Yes, I was forgetting Morgan.” He sighed wearily. “Very well, to Bridgeford Wells, then.”
They reached the stream, and he started to walk through it, following its course.
“Must we do this?” she asked, lifting her skirts. “It’s so muddy.”
“Do you want to go to Bridgeford Wells or not?” he demanded without a backward glance.
“Yes.”
“Then we don’t want to leave any trail for dogs. Now be quiet and follow me.”
She felt a stab of doubt. He was being so rude—maybe she had overestimated what he felt for her. Still, there was no doubt in her heart that she wanted to stay with him, safe and free. Nevertheless, his cautions had lodged a nagging doubt in her heart. Was it possible that she was being naive? Was he right to think that the way she felt about him could change, that she might come to regret her life with him?
After they had walked north some distance, thankfully leaving the stream and continuing through the woods, she realized that he was holding his shoulder. “Are you in pain?” she asked softly.
“That was an uncomfortable place to wait, in that tree.” He sounded tired, but not so cantankerous as before, which she took to be a good sign.
“How do you know Morgan?” She came up beside him, noting his drawn face. He had been so worried about her and yet he did not look as if this journey were so easy for him, either.
“Him it was left me to die in the mountains.”
“He wounded you?” She nodded toward his shoulder.
“No. That was Ivor, the leader of the rebels I was with. I didn’t approve of his tactics, and he didn’t approve of my opposition.”
“So he fought you?”
“Yes.”
“What happened? Did you kill him?”
“No. Morgan did that, when I was lying as good as dead in his hall.”
“Then how did Hu Morgan come to leave you on the mountain to die?”
“I asked him to.”
She halted, and waited for him to stop and turn toward her. “You asked him to, and he agreed? Why, if you were a rebel?”
“Because I tried to stop Ivor, I suppose. Or perhaps it was the eloquence of my request,” he added sarcastically.
“Or perhaps he saw what I see, an honorable man.”
“Madeline,” Dafydd said with a sigh, “don’t. I don’t love you. I’ll never love you. You’re making a fool of yourself.”
“I’m not the one lying, Dafydd. If you don’t love me, why are you taking me to Lord Gervais?”
“Because I said I would.”
“So you’re an honorable man.”
“But I don’t love you.”
“Dafydd,” she said softly, approaching him and putting her hands on his shoulders. “Honorable men do not lie, so I want you to tell me you do not care for me, if that is the truth.”
“Madeline,” he warned. “Enough of this!”
“I’m sorry I was so discourteous to you, after that night. I was afraid.”
“I don’t want to talk about that. It was a mistake, for both of us.”
“It was before I knew how you felt, before I knew you truly cared about me.”
“I never said I do.”
“Now who’s being stubborn? You do care. I can see it in your eyes. But if I had a child out of wedlock, it w
ould have been terrible. I would be shamed. No one would respect me.”
“Probably no Normans,” he agreed. He lifted her hands from his shoulders, then joined them together within his own, looking down at them. “Why didn’t you tell me of your fears sooner?” he whispered. “Did you think so little of me, Madeline?”
“I thought it was not your concern. I was the one, Dafydd, who came to you that night.”
“But it would be the child of us both, Madeline,” he said quietly. “Do you think I would abandon my own flesh and blood? Do you think I would leave my child to be raised by Normans?”
“I am a Norman, Dafydd,” she reminded him. “The baby would be mine, too. But it doesn’t matter, anyway. I am not with child.”
“Good,” he said, letting go of her hands. “If you can believe I would leave you to fend for yourself and the child alone, then you know nothing of me, and it is better this way.”
“I know something of you, Dafydd. I know that you are good and honorable. I would know more, if you would tell me.”
“But don’t you see, Madeline? We are from two different worlds.”
“Then we can make our own,” she said. “Don’t you understand, Dafydd? We won’t have to be alone ever again.”
He stared at her. Of all the things she could have said, this was the one that pierced the armor of his practical assertions. He knew what it was to be alone, too well. And so did she. Could their love not mean an end to such loneliness forever? Perhaps, just perhaps, they could share a life together.
He took hold of her shoulders and pulled her toward him, staring into her eyes. She shifted closer, bringing her body close to his. “What is it you wish for, Dafydd? What do you seek?”
“Peace,” he answered truthfully, aware of her, loving her. “A home. A wife. Children.”
“As I want a husband who loves me. Children. A home. I want you, Dafydd.”
“Madeline,” he whispered, bending to kiss her. He found a promise there, of happiness and love and family long lost to his life.
This was like a tale told by a bard. A fairy story of a princess and a peasant. Only the princess always discovered the peasant was a prince in disguise, and Madeline would find no such ending to this story. He pushed her away. “Madeline, this is wrong. This is a dream.”
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