“Just as well then, that I know what to do with ice.” William pushed her hair from her face and cupped her cheeks gently as if framing a picture. A little of the ice melted.
“What do you do with ice?” she asked, knowing, but wanting to engage at some flirtatious level she didn’t understand.
His lips twitched briefly. “Different things, depending on what is frozen. If, say, the land was frozen, and it was dawn, then I would wait for nature to do its work and for the soil to soften until it could be managed. Patience is what’s required in that case.”
“But what if the temperature didn’t rise enough to melt the ice? What if it continued to be hard and unyielding through the dark day and into the night when it froze even harder?” The constriction in her throat was betrayed by her voice. Panic, she thought, was hard to disguise.
“Well, that depends on how much we’re talking about. If it were a small patch that was precious, then I would protect it.”
“Not dig it up?”
“No, that isn’t the best way. Attack is rarely the best way with the land. Nurture always pays dividends. The best way to protect it from the elements is to cover it with cloth and shelter, so it receives no more damage. To help it come alive by itself. That is the best way. Or else, there may be pockets still frozen, lying unseen. No doubt.”
“Ah,” she breathed. “No doubt,” she repeated, swaying a little toward him, aware of strange tingles running down her back, along her limbs, turning them liquid.
He brushed his thumb against her lips. “And if the cloths and shelter didn’t work, then I would use myself as protection, lie on it to warm it, breathe on it, like I would a resisting lock until the key turned easily. That is what I would do.”
This time she couldn’t even begin to form any words, just held herself close to him, her mouth but a whisper away from his, feeling his breath against her mouth.
Did she move first, or did he? She couldn’t have said, but their lips met and touched and held, as if he were breathing life into her, melting her reserve, filling her with goodness so she could trust again.
Her heart thumped heavily, and her body was flooded with heat which seemed to do exactly as he’d described, melted her from top to toe. She could have pulled away easily, but she didn’t. It was as if he’d been testing her, to see her response, and when she didn’t reject him, he moved his lips over hers slowly. She didn’t know that lips could be caressed like that. The warmth of his breath in her mouth was a further intoxication. She felt his groan deep in his body, rumble through hers, as he stepped closer until their bodies touched, and his hands slid around her back, fanning over her back, supporting her.
She heard a whimper and realized that it came from her.
Too soon, he pulled away. A slow smile spread over his face as he swept her lower lip with his thumb. “You, my love, have nothing to fear.”
His words struck her, not only because of their meaning, but because they claimed her hearing, loud and clear. She shook her head in confusion. He frowned and held her more firmly.
“What is it?”
But she couldn’t answer because she was suddenly aware of the sound of an owl, hooting outside the window. She turned to look at the window where the moon shone strongly now.
“Did you hear that?”
He frowned. “What? The owl? Of course.” Then his frown cleared. “Why did you?”
She nodded and walked to the window and swung open the shutters. A blast of cold air entered the room. Moonlight flooded the land, giving it an unnatural silver light, revealing the damage the storm had wrought only the day before. Nothing stirred.
He came up behind her and held her shoulders. “There’ll be a heavy frost tomorrow.”
The sound of the owl broke through the silence, and Alice closed her eyes. “I’ve never heard an owl like that before. Not so clear. I can hear the texture of the call, the feeling behind it. But this is not a numb, faint sound, but a full one.”
“I don’t understand,” said William. “What could have happened to change your hearing?”
She twisted in his arms and smiled up at him. “The ice breaking a little, mayhap?”
A rare grin broke across his face. “Mayhap. And imagine what magic more loving can bring.”
More loving. There was no doubt she’d enjoyed the kiss. But simply the mention of the physical act which would inevitably be expected of her clamped something tight within her. She felt the old tension fall over her again, like a protective cloak—a smothering cloak which triggered something inside of her, blanking out the sounds as before.
William must have sensed the tension return to her body, for his smile fell like a stone. But his hands didn’t leave her, only relaxed their hold. “You know that a miracle has happened, and it can happen again. I swear to almighty God that I will help you. I will show you a little each day that there is nothing to fear from our union. It has begun with a kiss, and I promise you many more of those. And then? We will take it slowly, so slowly that your fear will leave you, and the demands of your body will outgrow your fears. That, my dear Alice, is my promise to you. A future where there is no fear, only love.”
She couldn’t believe it, although she wanted to. She put her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around her, and there they stayed, bathed in the cool moonlight until a small gurgle came from the cot. They both turned to see the light had awoken Charles, who lay happily watching them both.
As Alice walked to the cot, she heard William murmur. “With every day that passes, Alice de Courcy, I’ll show you how much I love you. I’ll make sure you don’t ever forget it.”
As if she wanted to. It was the one thing she’d valued her whole life, and because of that, it was the one thing that scared her.
But William didn’t have the opportunity to show her how much he loved her over the following weeks. Because, as the last weeks of winter passed into spring, the country was sent into a state of alarm by news from the King. Especially for those living on the coast. Philip Augustus, King of France, fresh from taking Normandy from the King of England, King John, now appeared to have his sights set on England itself. Word had reached King John, that his old allies, now allies of the French King had joined forces with Philip Augustus and were planning to invade England. All ports and coastal areas were put on alert. Every male over the age of twelve had to bear arms, and all ships had been requisitioned by the King to defend the realm.
What this meant for William was intensive organization to make sure both his coastline was guarded, that there were sufficient men or women to work the land, and that the trade which had fallen mostly to Katherine, was able to continue in some form. Luckily the difficult Captain who seemed to be the bane of Katherine’s life also managed to avoid his ship from being controlled by the King. On the one hand, this meant their trade could continue and prosper, but on the other, it meant more difficulty for Katherine in managing the Captain—a man who they continued to hear plenty of.
“He’s impossible!” said Katherine, pacing the room in a way she never did unless Captain Logan had upset her again. “He does the opposite of what I say. He seems intent on goading me into anger. Only then does he laugh and do what he wants anyway. Which, it has to be said, often seems to work out better than I had anticipated.” She threw her arms in the air. “He’s impossible!” she repeated.
“You’ve already said that,” noted Lora, wryly.
“For someone who purports to dislike this man, you seem to spend a lot of time talking about him. I think you’re sweet on him,” said Celestria.
Alice couldn’t help thinking she might have a point, but now, she decided, wasn’t a time to question Katherine, whose face had grown puce with anger.
“I’m indifferent to him!” said Katherine with too much passion.
“It’s unlikely, Celestria,” said Alice, mildly. Unlikely though possible, she thought.
“Unlikely? It’s impossible!” Kathe
rine turned away but not before Alice thought she saw tears in her eyes. Whether they were tears of frustration or anger, she didn’t know. What she did know was that they weren’t tears of indifference. Katherine stormed off, and the girls drifted away each in pursuit of their different interests: for Katherine, domestic matters, for Lora, William’s work, and Celestria… Alice didn’t even want to think where Celestria might be.
Alice settled beside the fire with Charles. The weeks had passed and, despite inquiries, they hadn’t heard of any relatives. The longer the time passed, the more she hoped he would remain with her. But then she felt guilty that she was wishing him to be deprived of his kin.
Suddenly there was a blast of early spring air, bringing with it damp early blossoms and grass, and male voices.
Alice rose and watched William, the center of a group of men, standing a head above them, listen to what one of them was saying. He was always like that: listening to people and then acting. Talking for the sake of it wasn’t his thing, which was just as well, given her deafness. She got a thrill from watching how others looked up to him and how he controlled a situation with his presence alone.
She hadn’t seen him alone in weeks, and she waited by the fire. His gaze rose to hers, and ignoring the others, he came over to her.
“My lady,” he said, lifting her hand to his lips.
“William,” she breathed, remembering the magic his lips had wrought on her own. “It is good to have you home.”
“It’ll be a brief visit. But I wished to come for I bring news.”
She brought her hand to her chest, glancing at Charles, who lay fast asleep, oblivious to the noise of the men around him.
William followed her gaze. “Charles’s mother was making her way to Scotland to seek out a distant cousin who’d offered her shelter. The cousin is more than happy that the child is adopted by us.”
Alice closed her eyes. She’d been dreading this moment, fearing the worst. But it was not the worst news, it was the best. “I can hardly believe it.”
“All will be well for our family, Alice. You, me, the babe. You must believe it. There is nothing now that can tear us apart. I will make sure any last remaining feelings of fear or distrust are swept away.”
Could life truly be changing for her after so many years? Alice hardly dared believe it. But, as she pressed her cheek to his chest and felt his arms around her, she believed him. For what could happen to them now?
Chapter 13
Alice paused by the church door. There it was. She did not need to read it, she’d read it often enough already to understand the words. But she couldn’t get enough of the wedding notice—Sir William de Vere and Lady Alice de Courcy to be wed. She rarely continued to read the remainder of the notice asking that if anyone knew any reasons why the two should not marry, they should come forward with that reason. Alice had no qualms on that front. They’d known each other so long and was certain there were no skeletons in either of their cupboards. No, she read the notice because it made real a future which she’d given up hoping for.
As she continued along the lane, back to the castle, it was as if the countryside reflected her revived spirits. Everywhere burst with spring beauty such as Alice could never remember.
Her new sisters smiled when she exclaimed at the opening blooms, at the birdsong which seemed to grow louder and sweeter with each passing day. Like the flowers, she felt as if she too, were opening her petals to the warm sunshine, leaving behind the dark and cold of winter.
There was only one thing which blotted her happiness and that was William’s frequent absences ensuring his lands were defended against the threat of invasion, a threat which Savari downplayed. Better than anyone, Savari knew the politics around the threat, and doubted it would eventuate.
But when William returned to the castle, late at night, exhausted from his work of raising money to arm his men and organize the defense of the long Norfolk coastline, he spent his time with Alice and Charles. No one questioned them as they spent time alone in the solar where Alice came to see a different side of William. One that was tender and patient, happy to show her what love could mean physically, but only going as far as she wanted. And she never had to tell him what she wanted or didn’t want. In the same way he tended his land, he tended her—with patience and gentleness, coaxing out of her the girl he once knew.
And slowly, Alice’s attitude to her wedding night was changing. She no longer looked upon it with dread, but more with anticipation.
Shortly after Alice arrived in the Hall, the door burst open, and Katherine entered looking unusually harried.
“Has William returned?” Katherine asked.
“No, and where have you been?” asked Lora, who was helping mind baby Charles while Alice finalized the last-minute wedding arrangements.
Katherine unclasped her cloak and hung it up with an exasperated sigh. “I’ve been to Yarmouth, arguing with the captain. He really is…” Katherine hesitated, and Lora and Celestria turned and gave her their full attention. Katherine never hesitated. She blushed as they stared at her. “What?”
“You didn’t finish your sentence,” said Lora, jiggling Charles on her hip as he began to fuss. “You always finish your sentences.”
“It’s what’s so irritating about you,” said Celestria.
Katherine shook her head. “How can finishing sentences be irritating?”
“Because you’re always so certain, so dependable,” said Celestria shrewdly. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to be so perfect.”
Lora nodded in agreement, but Katherine busied herself with a pot the cook had brought in, tasting it and returning it to the kitchen with her approval. Alice noticed she kept her head down longer than usual, and the flush that filled her cheeks couldn’t alone be put down to the heat from the fire. Alice didn’t know what was going on in Katherine’s world but had a suspicion that her increasingly frequent visits to Yarmouth were causing Katherine some kind of consternation. She decided to save her blushes.
“William sent me word that he’s been held up in Norwich. He wanted to finish his business there before the wedding tomorrow.”
“Good,” said Katherine decisively, looking up, face composed once more. “I’ll need his help with the problems with the boats. Seems the King has requisitioned everything to fight this phantom invasion. So my choices are limited.”
Celestria raised an eyebrow. “To the mysterious captain.”
Katherine resolutely ignored her. “Anyway, Alice, how is the dress?”
“Finished,” Alice said, holding up the dress she’d been working on earlier, adding some fine gold thread around the throat.
Lora rose and felt the cloth between her fingers. “Even I love it, and I hate fancy dresses.”
“That’s because it’s not fancy,” said Celestria. “It’s dignified, beautiful, understated, exactly like Alice.” Alice blushed. She never used to blush, but now the walls around her were falling, she found her response to people was becoming more instant, less guarded. And, it appeared, there was little she could do about it. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to anymore.
Alice brushed down the dress. “It’s finer than anything I’ve ever worn.”
“Blue for purity.” Celestria winked. “And you, a mother.”
Alice bit her lip and shook out the dress, hiding her expression from the others. Celestria didn’t know what had happened to her, none of them did. Only William. Recovering herself, she shrugged and half-turned to them. “It’s a little unusual, but I didn’t want to let William down.”
Katherine put her arm around her and pulled her close in a brief, comforting embrace. “William will love you in it.”
Alice hoped so. She’d soon find out.
It seemed there was to be no letting up of the sunshine that spring. And the day of their wedding dawned promising warmth and sunshine.
Alice and William led the small procession of family, friends, and villagers to the church. There was no one fr
om her family’s side. She’d heard nothing from her mother, but everyone else was there, apart from Savari.
“Where is he?” asked William. He looked out across the newly sprouted, green-dusted fields, toward where the road petered out into a haze. “He said he’d be here.”
Alice shrugged. “He must have got held up. He wouldn’t miss your wedding for no reason.”
“Aye,” he smiled at her. “You’re right. And the only person I need is here.” He squeezed her hand. She leaned her head against his arm in response. After so many years of having space between them, she couldn’t get used to being able to touch him. She laughed as she had a vision of never allowing him to leave her again, clinging to him as the barnacles did to the boats.
He gave a grunt of laughter. “I love your laugh, it makes me laugh, even though I know not what it is which you find so funny.”
They stopped at the church. “Mayhap that I can hardly believe my luck, can hardly believe this is happening,” she said quietly.
“I can,” he said. “It was always going to happen.”
She shook her head in disbelief at William’s certainty. She couldn’t understand it, but she loved it and felt reassured by it. He moved as if to kiss her, but she smiled and retreated it. Not until we’re married, Sir William,” she teased.
They entered the elaborate porch off the church, in front of the large, oak doors to be met by the priest. There were flowers everywhere, all along the ledges, and hanging from the vaulted ceiling as well. The porch, added by William’s grandparents as a fitting place to exchange their wedding vows, was always a place of beauty with its vaulted ceiling and fine carvings, but now it was transformed into a spring arbor, complete with festoons of ribbons and greenery.
She turned and smiled at the culprits—Katherine, Celestria, and Lora, who grinned back—before taking her place to the left of William, facing the priest who stood in front of the door. Behind them, family and villagers finally hushed after the priest called for quiet. He cleared his throat and began the ceremony.
Honoring his Lady: A Medieval Romance (Norfolk Knights Book 5) Page 13
