“Of course mi’lord and thank-you for receiving me under such circumstances. I came to discuss a very . . . delicate matter with you.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Yes Sir. It is something I have been considering for some time. In fact, I want to marry your daughter.”
Godwyn straightened in the chair and the smile disappeared from his face. “Meridyth. You want to marry Meridyth?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t allow that.”
“Sir please listen. I have a proposal that I’m certain will interest you and be beneficial to you. I know you have little reason to trust my credentials but I assure you that you have my utmost and devout allegiance. If you would give your consent your daughter would be well cared for and upon my father’s death I will receive his title of Baron of Heatherfield and with that title I would give you dominion over Heatherfield and all of its resources with the allegiance of all the southern clans on the Scottish borders.
Godwyn was silent for several seconds and Sir Benedict was certain that Godwyn would approve his proposal. “I’m sorry, Sir Benedict but I cannot accept your proposal for my daughter as much as I am grateful for your offer. I have already promised my daughter to someone else. I have reached a prior agreement that is very beneficial to me and much more honourable and beneficial than your offer.”
“Oh,” said Greyson with disappointment. “Who is the lucky young man?”
“That information cannot be divulged at this time,” he replied.
“I see,” he said. “Is there any way I could change your mind?”
“No,’ said Godwyn firmly. Once his mind was made up that was it. “My daughters are all spoken for. Ceridwyn soon to be married into the Munro clan of Inverness and Gwendolyn, I am hopeful, will soon be engaged to the Prince of Gwynedd. You are too late in your pursuit Sir Benedict. I’m sorry.”
“Of course sir. I’m sorry I wasted your time. I will leave at first light and head for the Duke of Banbury to rally with his forces there.”
Godwyn nodded but with some doubt. He knew that time would show Greyson’s true colours and whether he was friend or foe.
Merry watched with satisfied delight as Sir Benedict rode down the cobble stoned avenue the next morning. She stood in the hall window and smiled. “Farewell Sir Benedict and good riddens to you. I do not want to see you again.” She sighed with relief for her father had refused him as she assumed he would and she could now breathe again and she moved from the window with hopes of seeing Edmund again soon.
Chapter Twenty One
Man or Monster?
Ceridwyn was frozen and she did all she could to contain her composure. She was standing face to face with Sir Fingal Munro and the whole scenario brought her to the point of distress although she was good at concealing it. Her heart was beating rapidly and her palms were sweating. This was Fingal Munro but he was a strange man indeed wearing a long dark cloak over a grey surcoat. On his face he wore a mask that covered half of his face. All Ceridwyn could make out were a pair of blue mysterious eyes and red lips. However, under closer inspection she could just make out fair hair under the hooded cloak. He spoke with more of an English accent than a Scottish accent. He was a mysterious man indeed. She stood there paralyzed and simply said nothing.
He nodded softly and bowed. “Lady Ceridwyn, an honor to meet you. Please forgive my appearance. I was wounded when my ship was attacked by pirates on the way back and I wish to keep the wounds covered until they are healed and therefore your patience would be most appreciated as I must ask you that we delay the wedding until such time.”
She curtsied politely. “Of course sir,” she stammered for she had never contemplated such a request. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
There was an awkward moment of silence. “I heard you are recovering from an illness yourself?”
“Yes, but I’m much better now.”
He nodded but Ceridwyn found it very awkward with his identity concealed. It was almost as if he didn’t want her to see something, but what? Was it just a battle wound? She had seen many battle wounds and on the face as well. She had seen some terrible scars so she found it hard to believe it was just a battle wound he was hiding.
“Shall we head for the dining hall?” asked Lord Munro. “You can get to know each other more at dinner.”
Fingal put his arm out for Ceridwyn and she laced her arm through his and he led her to the dining hall and she was feeling very emotional as thoughts of Sir Gregory came flooding back and the first time she dined with him. Fingal held the seat for her like a gentleman and softly and softly smiled at her as she sat down. She took the seat with hesitations and noticed Deirdre and Caitlyn sitting across from her. They were both smirking at her as usual and everyone seemed to watch them carefully. Isla smiled at her warmly and Ceridwyn noticed after a while that there were whispers circling the table and not just the two unpleasant cousins and Ceridwyn notice even Isla and her mother passing whispers. It seems everyone had some opinion they didn’t want her to know and she glanced at Fingal and he grinned and he seemed very calm. She felt as if she was the only one in the room who didn’t know something.
“Lady Ceridwyn,” said Lord Munro. “Please allow me to introduce to you, Sir Albert Lovejoy. He will be staying a while.”
“An honour to meet you mi’lady,” said Sir Albert.
Ceridwyn glanced across the table. Sir Albert was a man of about thirty and he had dark curly hair and he wore a surcoat decorated with the king’s lion. He had a warm, gallant smile and it reminded her of Sir Gregory. “And you sir,” she replied.
“I met your father a long time ago,” he said. “A strong, courageous man. Full of kindness and honesty.”
“Yes, he is,” Ceridwyn agreed. “And you must be a long way from home Sir Albert?”
“Duty brings me to the north on request of the king for he will return soon and I came to announce his coming and to warn of impending unrest with the dragon clans and to seek the allegiance of Lord Munro and his followers.”
“Of course,” said Lord Munro. “I have always been a supporter of King Edward and I have promised the Earl of Northumbria my allegiance should the need arise.”
“Have you traveled all this way alone sir?” asked Lady Munro.
“I traveled as far as Penworth with other companions and from there I rode to Dunbar in which at that point I came into the company of another young, famous knight. And we rode together as far as St Ronan, just five miles south.”
“Oh, and who is this famous knight you rode with?” asked Lady Munro with keen interest.
“None other than the illustrious Sir Gregory Dorrigen of Tamworth.”
Ceridwyn felt her heart drop to her stomach and she softly choked on the wine as it went down.
“Are you alright Lady Ceridwyn?” asked Deirdre. “You look very pale,” she judged.
“Fine thank you.”
“Sir Gregory Dorrigen was the one I defeated on the tournament field,” said Artemis proudly.
“That was sheer luck,” said Fingal to his brother rather sharply and Ceridwyn began to wonder that perhaps he was bitter about the arrangement. “But I am proud to know that my bride was won against such an opponent.” He turned and smiled at Lady Ceridwyn and she managed a weak smile. Her heart was pounding. It bothered her greatly to know that Sir Gregory might be only five miles away. She felt very ill in the pit of her stomach.
“And why was the famous Sir Gregory traveling to Scotland at this time of year?” asked Lord Munro. “In such treacherous weather. What lured him to the north so devotedly?”
“Well,” said Sir Albert as he placed his goblet of wine on the table. “To visit with family there and . . . apparently he hopes to find a bride amongst his cousins. He’s a very polite, chivalrous and likable young man. I wished him well and we parted ways.”
“Amongst his cousins you say?” said Artemis with speculation. “That surprises me. Why he could have anyone in the kingdom with his
fair looks and excellent skills and not to mention his inheritance. He’s a wealthy young man and well placed in the king’s service. Girls fret over him wherever he goes. I picture him with a ravishing beauty. I hope his cousins are deserving of him.”
“What a thing to say!” said Lady Munro. “I’m sure whoever he chooses will be deserving!”
“Are you disappointed that Sir Gregory lost the tournament?” asked Deirdre to Ceridwyn and the table suddenly fell silent. Ceridwyn nervously bit her lip and held her breath. She felt like she would just die from sheer embarrassment and she hoped that her emotions were not noticeable. This whole conversation vexed her.
“Well . . . I . . . no, not particularly. I didn’t know him very well.”
“But you were engaged to him, before the tournament,” said Artemis.
Ceridwyn looked at him puzzled. Why was he asking her such questions and putting her on the spot? Perhaps he was more of a friend to Deirdre than she realized.
“Well, yes I was engaged to him but my father decided that it was not an appropriate arrangement as Sir Gregory had a fondness for the ladies and . . . I totally agreed with my father on that matter and therefore I am pleased with the tournament result and grateful that his character was made known before we were married.”
There was a moment of extreme silence at the table to the point that Ceridwyn felt she had said something wrong. Everyone carried on with the dinner but Sir Fingal stood to his feet and smiled. “Excuse me mi’lady.” He bowed and left her presence and Ceridwyn was unraveled inside at the whole idea of Sir Gregory and the possibility that he might be close by. Sir Fingal never returned to the table that night and Ceridwyn danced with Artemis and Michael and went to bed pondering the whole strange evening.
The following day Ceridwyn woke of her own accord. She felt very peaceful and it was all very quiet as she sat up and there was no Maeve rushing into the room shouting, Oh goodness get up we’re running late as she had already done on several mornings since she arrived. The peaceful state of tranquility she had when her eyes opened quickly left as she sat up and remembered the previous day and her meeting with Fingal Munro and news that Sir Gregory was in the area. This news flustered her more than the idea of meeting Fingal Munro who was a case of curiosity of his own wearing a mask that covered his face and a long cape concealing him. What a peculiar odd man he was.
She flung her feet over the bed onto the icy stone floor and quickly teetered to the front of the fire place to warm herself. She greedily consumed the heat from the fire’s flames and then dressed herself in a hurry pulling the long woolen gown over head with satisfaction and then she draped a shawl around her shoulders. She expected Maeve to enter at any moment and fix her hair in place but she did not so Ceridwyn brushed her own hair and clipped it back at the sides as best as she could. In spite of the coldness her mind was constantly drawn to the subject of Fingal Munro and Sir Gregory Dorrigen. She thought she would never hear Sir Gregory’s name again and now he was residing five miles away. She wrestled with feelings of love and betrayal for he had won her heart and then he betrayed her. At least he was five miles away and not staying at Adair.
With the prior thoughts swirling through her head she left her chamber. The castle was quiet as she walked through the halls and there was no sign of the Munro cousins; Deirdre, Caitlyn or Isla. She walked through each room cautiously should she interrupt some important conversation and there seemed to be no one around. She tiptoed like a spy down the stairs to the main hall and from one of the rooms she heard soft laughter. It seemed to be coming from the Scriptorium. With curiosity she moved slowly and quietly lifting her gown as necessary. The door was ajar slightly and she approached it very carefully so as not to make her presence known. She recognized Deirdre’s voice and she was with someone. “Well what do you make of it?” asked Deirdre.
“I think she has the wrong impression,” said a male voice.
“She’ll never know,” said Deirdre.
“Yes, it’s our secret,” whispered the male voice softly.
After a moment Ceridwyn realized it was Fingal Munro and she backed away from the door slowly now convinced that Fingal and Deirdre were lovers. The hope of love and romance quickly faded. This secret conversation had opened her eyes and she suddenly felt very aware of her false beliefs. Was there really any such thing as love and romance? She’d often heard her own siblings speak of it with such dread and now she understood the bitterness of it. How foolish she was to believe that Fingal Munro would love and accept her when he himself had a commitment to someone else all along. She was devastated. With her heart in the pit of her stomach she made her way back to the main hall. She threw a woolen cape over her shoulders and headed outside and to the pathway leading around the loch.
The day was overcast with puffy white clouds hanging overhead as if waiting to bring forth a dusting of white snow any minute. Ceridwyn looked up momentarily and tightened the cape around her. As soon as she was away from the castle she burst into tears. She suddenly felt doomed to a life of duty and discontent chained to a man devoted to someone else. It just wasn’t fair. Tears rippled down her cheeks in two straight lines and she walked at a quickened pace and not even aware of how far she had gone until she reached the ruins of Brechin Castle where only a couple of weeks prior she had fallen over the edge into the freezing water of the loch. She stopped when she realized how far she had gone and there was no one around, not even a single fisherman in sight. She gazed across the loch which was very still on this cool overcast day. It was so still it was almost frightening and she half expected the monster to jump out of the water and terrify her. And at this point she really didn’t care and she was certain that not even the monster could make her feel worse than she did at that moment for she felt as though she had sunk as far as she could. She cautiously moved a step back at the sight of a ripple that moved across the surface of the water. She stood there in complete silence pondering the monster, Sir Fingal Munro and now Sir Gregory perhaps situated some five miles away. Thoughts were swirling like a wild tempest and for a moment she wanted to just run and jump in the water and let the monster have her. She was vexed with herself for being so naïve and lacking in maturity in these matters.
Now there was the sound of footsteps in the soft snow and Ceridwyn swung around swiftly. There was a woman about Merry’s age and she had long red hair and was wrapped in a woolen cloak and she was a carrying a small basket of pine cones. She smiled softly at Ceridwyn as she stopped beside her. “Good morning mi’lady.”
“Good morning,” said Ceridwyn.
“Are you alright, mi’lady?”
“I’m . . . fine,” said Ceridwyn.
“Are you sure there is nothing I can do. Can I fetch someone for you?”
“No, I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ll just sit here for awhile and then go back. But thank you for your kindness.” Ceridwyn managed to smile back at her. She was never short of being grateful no matter how bad she felt.
“Back? Where are you from?” she asked for there was nowhere to go accept the castle and Ceridwyn certainly didn’t look like anyone she’d seen before.
“The Castle,” replied Ceridwyn. “Castle Adair. It’s where I’m staying. I mean living. I live there now.”
“Really, you live there?” she questioned.
“I am to wed his lordship’s eldest son.”
“You mean Artemis Munro?”
“No,” said Ceridwyn. “No, his eldest son, Fingal Munro.”
“Fingal who?” “I know of Artemis Munro, Mi’lady but I don’t know of any Fingal.”
“Well it’s his eldest son,” she insisted. After all she was going to marry him.
“I’ve lived here all me life. I’ve been to the castle several times. As far as I know, he has a son Artemis and a daughter Fiona who married and went to live in Aberdeen.”
Ceridwyn was very perplexed and strained now and she felt dizzy with this sudden information. How can this be? She met him in th
e flesh or had she? She met a man wearing a mask, a strange man but she met him. “Well I met him,” she said anxiously. “I saw him, he . . .” She was lost for words as she tried to describe him, a strange man wearing a long, dark cloak and a black mask covering half of his face. What was she thinking? She never saw anything accept a very strange man concealing himself. She was very unsure of herself and she began to wonder if she was losing her mind.
“Of course, mi’lady,” the woman agreed for she could see Ceridwyn was getting anxious and was clearly very upset.
“Perhaps I should go back now,” said Ceridwyn. “It’s getting cold and Lady Munro will wonder of my whereabouts.”
“Yes, perhaps you should,” said the woman. “Go back and warm yerself by a roaring fire and have some hot stew. The cold can do strange things to you.”
“Yes, it was nice meeting you . . . umm”
“Eileen,” the woman answered.
“I’m Ceridwyn,” she smiled and headed for the trail back to the castle.
“Excuse me mi’lady. You did say his name was Fingal?”
Ceridwyn paused and turned around slowly. “Yes,” she responded. “I did.”
“Well, not to frighten you or anything but Fingal is the local’s nickname for the monster.”
“Oh,” said Ceridwyn. She was now horrified to say the least and she felt a spooky tremor filter through her body. What more could go wrong? The man she was engaged to shared a nickname with the monster. She fumbled nervously onto the trail and headed back to the castle which now seemed like a hazy dream. Why did she ever leave Berwyck? How she longed to go back home to her family more than ever. And when she reached the castle she went straight to her room and closed the door and collapsed on the bed and wept for what seemed an hour until the door opened some time later and in came Maeve to check on her.
Kingdom of Dragons (Kingdom Series Book 2) Page 21