Lynn Wood - Norman Brides 03

by The Promise Keeper

  He had even been expected to host a reception at the castle for the nobles and their wives, along with the other important citizens of his new rule so that the ladies of his new kingdom would have an opportunity to meet the new king and take his measure. He was extremely grateful and more than willing to place the planning of the event in Elena’s surprisingly competent hands. He hoped to catch the bishop that evening and set a time on the morrow for their meeting.

  In the meantime, he reluctantly accepted that he was going to be late as the host for his own reception, as some problem arose in regards to the new stables being constructed that required his input with the end result being that he was delayed in returning to the keep until his guests were already beginning to arrive.

  Michel took the back stairs two at a time in his haste to reach his chambers and change into more fitting attire for the occasion and to avoid running into his arriving guests in his current, somewhat disheveled state. He found a steaming bath awaiting him in his chambers and he silently blessed his ward’s anticipation of his need of one. Stripping out of his shirt and breeches, he stepped appreciatively into the steaming tub and allowed himself the luxury of leaning back and closing his eyes for a moment, while the hot water eased the lingering pain from his wound in his aching chest.

  The injury was healing, but he acknowledged it would trouble him less if he rested more and gave his insides time to properly heal. Easier said than done, he sighed to himself, particularly when one was a king over a land that had been run by proxy for the past several months. Welcome scents reached him from the feast awaiting him and his guests in the grand hall, and he thought he detected the strains of musicians playing a soft, pleasing melody for the comfort of his guests. He really would have to find time this evening to take Elena aside and express his very real appreciation for her efforts.

  He’d seen very little of his ward since she returned to the keep to take up residence under his roof. The few occasions when their paths crossed, there had been no time to exchange more than a perfunctory greeting as he was usually either on his way out of the keep after breaking his fast in the morning, or returning to change for an evening obligation elsewhere. By the time he sought the privacy of his chambers late at night, he assumed Elena was already asleep in her own rooms.

  He missed her and he regretted the new distance between them, even acknowledging there was very little that could be done about it unless he was prepared to marry the maid. Even if they were already man and wife, he imagined the past weeks would have been very little different in regards to their personal time together, except at night and the early mornings in the privacy of his chambers. Soaking in the warmth of the water, he let his thoughts wander to fantasies of exactly how their time would be spent in the privacy of his chambers. He realized he missed her anxious glances and gentle smiles, and her very real concern about his recovery, but he missed most the feel of her soft lips opening beneath his, the silken texture of her skin, and the way she fit herself close within the circle of his embrace, eagerly molding her lithe, young body against his so there was no separation between them.

  Not surprising given the direction of his thoughts, he felt his manhood stir. He’d gone long months without the comfort of a woman beneath him. While such a sacrifice was necessary when he was preparing to take back his birthright, now that the kingship was his, the same constraints no longer prevented him from seeking the release to be found in a woman’s soft embrace.

  He admitted it was not the constraints of his duties that kept him in his celibate state, it was his unwillingness to hurt Elena, knowing her tender feelings for him, and that she wouldn’t understand that a man did not require warm feelings for his companion to find a much needed physical release in her arms.

  Aware of the time passing as he lingered with his bath, Michel used the nearby cloth to swiftly wipe away the day’s sweat and grime and rose from his seated position and stepped out of the tub. He needed to make a decision soon about what he was going to do about Elena. Not only could she not remain indefinitely in a bachelor’s household without a proper chaperone in residence, he had no intention of continuing to live a monkish existence in his own home.

  It was not surprising that when he was dressed in his fine evening clothes and presented himself at the top of the stairs leading down into the grand hall, with the members of his guard flanking him, that the first person his eyes sought in the crowd beneath him who stopped to bow and curtsey at the sight of him was Elena. He was somewhat overwhelmed by the sight of his subjects arrayed in all of their finery. Jeweled ladies in their grand gowns accompanied by their equally impressive husbands filled the great hall with a glittering array of finery. Descending the stairs his eyes passed over their bent heads in search of Elena. He’d nearly reached the bottom step before he caught sight of her.

  When he gestured for the assemblage to rise, their eyes met across the throng standing between them. If he had been taken aback by the sight of his subjects in their evening finery, the vision Elena presented in the cream colored gown, with gold stitching around the not exactly modest neckline and around the cuffs of her sleeves set his heart galloping in his chest. Her hair was swept up off her back and arranged in a braided crown that framed her face, accenting her delicate features and the slender column of her throat. Any remaining question in his mind as to whether it was a child and not a beautiful, desirable woman he stood silently regarding was answered by the swell of her full breasts peeking out above the scooped neckline of her gown. A large pearl rested between them and glimmered subtly in the light from the candlelit chandeliers overhead, its beauty no more striking than the maid who displayed it.

  Michel’s earlier fantasies returned with a vengeance and he was forced to exercise considerable control not to stroll across the room, sweep the maid up in his arms and return to his bedchamber to act on them. The knowledge Elena would raise no objection to his alternative plan for the evening only made the test of his discipline that much more challenging. Finally, recalling their surroundings and the hundreds of guests gathered, their eyes on him, waiting for him to speak, he nodded in Elena’s direction then approached Timothy with a request to be introduced to his lovely wife.

  Elena felt her cheeks heat up in a full blush at the memory of Michel’s close perusal. She drew some small satisfaction at the astonished look on his face when their eyes met across the room. She was glad to have the opportunity for him to see her in something other than the borrowed, ill-fitting gowns she’d worn in the mountain camp after he rescued her from the villains who kidnapped her. But her own surprise at seeing him standing so proud, so fit, his eyes scanning the crowd of his loyal subjects had been no less than his at seeing her, and only made her feel more uncertain of her place in his life. Was he not the epitome of every young maid’s dreams? As king, he could have his choice of any woman in his kingdom. Why should he settle for one he regarded as much a tedious child as he did a woman full-grown?

  “Elena, dear.” A rather amused voice repeated near her ear and Elena started and turned to find Lady Madeline, Baron Gallagher’s wife, by her side, apparently anticipating a response to the comment she no doubt directed at her, but which Elena had not heard because she’d been too wrapped up in her daydreams surrounding the new king.

  “Forgive me, Lady Madeline, my thoughts were elsewhere,” she quickly apologized to the older woman.

  “Yes, dear, so I noticed. Not that I blame you. If I were twenty years younger, I am certain my thoughts would also be directed elsewhere whenever our dashing, young king was within my line of sight.”

  Elena blushed profusely at the older woman’s inference, but was too embarrassed at her directness to know how to respond.

  Madeline reached out to give her hand a comforting squeeze. “Forgive me, child, I did not mean to cause you discomfort. ‘Tis the truth I would worry more about you if you did not notice what a fine young man our new king is. I understand from my husband it was King Barnabas’ dying wish th
at the two of you wed.”

  Elena knew there was nothing she could do about her flaming cheeks, but she was more interested in making certain she understood Lady Madeline’s inference correctly. “I’m sorry, perhaps I misunderstood you?”

  “I sincerely doubt that, my dear. Surely you knew Barnabas loved you like his very own daughter. He made it very clear in the scroll he left appointing King Michel your guardian that he granted his consent for you to wed Queen Alyssa’s grandson, Michel, and no other.”

  Elena lifted trembling hands to her cheeks. “I had no idea my uncle left such instructions. I suppose that is why everyone seems to assume that we will be wed.”

  “No doubt, my dear, but I think the circumstance of our new king allowing you to remain in his household without the benefit of a proper chaperone leads people to conclude he has every intention of marrying you after an appropriate time has elapsed for you to mourn your uncle’s loss.”

  “I see,” Elena replied in a hushed voice. “Admittedly I hadn’t considered that. I have always lived in the keep. I am certain it is merely a kindness on King Michel’s part not to have removed me from the only home I have any memory of. Where would I go, after all? Uncle Barnabas was my only family.”

  “Yes, well, though you are too young perhaps to be fully aware of the consequences to your reputation by continuing to live under the roof of our bachelor king, rest assured the king is not unaware of his responsibilities towards you. Knowing my husband’s regard for him, and now having met him myself, I am completely confident he will not be remiss in fulfilling those responsibilities.”

  “I see,” Elena echoed hollowly. “Thank you for explaining. You are quite right. I had no idea people would assume I was the king’s mistress simply because we both had our quarters in the keep. Especially considering the fact that I have barely seen him since he recovered from his wounds and assumed his duties as king.”

  “Don’t be foolish, Elena. No one assumes any such thing. Our new king is a man of honor. Look how he treated Baron James’ son and family after the man attempted to murder him. A lesser king would have forced them to forfeit their lands and exiled them from his kingdom at the very least. Certainly no one would have challenged his right to do so under the circumstances. Frankly we were all shocked by his generosity towards the baron’s family and the personal interest he has displayed towards young Colin. Such a man, so mindful of his honor, will not be slow to protect an innocent young maid’s, particularly the niece of our former king.”

  “Yes, of course, thank you for your reassurance. Would you excuse me? I have to consult with the cooks in regards to dinner.” Elena forced the words through her stiff lips, all of her joy in the evening’s entertainment forgotten. At her companion’s assent and gracious offer of assistance, Elena summoned the words to politely decline her overture and then turned away, blindly seeking the means to escape the now oppressive gathering.

  She needed to be alone for a few moments to regain her composure and to absorb what she’d just learned. Her uncle left instructions with Michel that he wished him to not only act as her guardian, but to marry her, as well. To make matters worse, her uncle’s dying wish was apparently well known among the citizens of Calei, at least among the noblemen.

  Michel’s kindness to her by granting her request of him to be allowed to return to the keep and live there with him had all but forced him, in the eyes of the nobles, to marry her or surrender his honor in their eyes. No wonder he’d been avoiding her. She needed to leave. He saved her life. She would not repay him by forcing him into a marriage he did not want, to a woman he regarded as a child.

  “Elena?” She swung around at the sound of her name, convinced she must be imagining it was Michel who hailed her. When she saw him striding towards her, his long legs swallowing up the distance between them, her own feet were suddenly frozen to the floor.

  “Elena?” he repeated, when she just stood there staring up at him, with what must surely be a silly, dazed expression on her face.

  She quickly sank into a deep curtsey before him. She heard his amused chuckle at her respectful gesture and then he reached down to assist her to her feet. “I think we have progressed beyond such formalities when we are alone.”

  Her tongue felt as though it was stuck to the roof of her mouth and she quickly dropped her stricken gaze before his searching one.

  “Elena is something wrong?” he prodded at her continued silence.

  Gathering her scattered wits, Elena drew in a calming breath and braved meeting his probing glance. “No, no of course not. I was just heading to the kitchens to make certain all is in readiness for dinner. I believe the majority of the guests have arrived. We should be able to sit down to dine soon.”

  A puzzled frown entered his glance and he replied, “Elena, I am certain the housekeeper will make sure our guests do not starve. I would not detract from your pleasure in the evening by having you run yourself ragged over such matters. Not, that I don’t realize it is because of your efforts the evening has gone off so spectacularly. I hadn’t realized you acted as your uncle’s hostess before he fell ill.”

  “Yes.” Elena couldn’t think of anything more sparkling to contribute to the conversation beyond her single word response.

  Again his confusion was evident in the blue eyes that met hers. At her continued silence Michel pulled her deeper into the dimly hallway and away from the speculative glances that watched them from the crowded hall.

  “Tell me what’s wrong. Did someone say something to upset you?” He took her cold hands in both of his and squeezed them gently.

  Elena recognized the genuine concern that prompted his question. There was no avoiding their circumstances. She was no more prepared to survive in the wilderness than she had been when she concocted her half-formed plans to flee being forced to marry Raulf. “May I ask you a question?”

  “Of course,” he confirmed, even as his eyes probed hers for a hint of what she wanted to know from him.

  “Did my uncle ask you to marry me?”

  Whatever he thought she was about to question him about, the query she just directed at him was obviously not it. He released one of her hands to thrust one of his own through his shoulder length hair and sputtered uncertainly, “Elena…”

  She swallowed the lump of suppressed tears lodged in her throat. “No, never mind, I can already see the answer in your uncertainty of how to respond. Forgive me for approaching such a delicate matter with you when you have other matters on your mind. I only hope you will not…Please do not feel as though you must…” Elena abandoned her attempt to get the words out.

  She drew a shattered, embarrassed breath and offered feebly, “I have to go. I am not able to have this discussion with you now and then return to your guests as if nothing is amiss. It was foolish of me to broach the topic now. I suppose you are right. I am not quite grown up all the way yet where I can pretend all is well between us when clearly it is not. Please excuse me, Your Highness.” She didn’t wait for him to respond to her tearful plea. Instead she slipped her hand from his unresisting grasp and fled down the hall.

  Elena stopped in an empty alcove to gather herself. She pressed trembling hands to her hot cheeks and brushed ready tears from her eyes with an impatient gesture. Then drawing in several bracing breaths, admonished herself not to act any more like the child Michel already believed her to be and continued on her way to the kitchens.

  She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised Michel believed such matters as the details involved in presiding over his first official reception as king could be left in the hands of a servant who had no personal acquaintance with the guests in attendance. Even in her own limited experience, she had already learned that most men assumed their households ran themselves and seemed to think such things as warm food, fresh ale and clean linens appeared at their ready hands as if by magic.

  After confirming the details with the housekeeper and the cooks, Elena made her way back to the grand hall. She had
acted as her uncle’s hostess on enough occasions to comprehend what was expected of her. At the entrance she pasted a bright smile on her face, nodded in response to a summons by Lady Margaret, Baron Paul’s wife, and set off across the hall, some sixth sense alerting her to the fact Michel’s eyes followed her progress across the distance.

  Elena managed to avoid the king’s company for the remainder of the evening. It was not difficult. Michel was constantly surrounded by his new subjects seeking to gain his attention. For her part, she nimbly evaded allowing herself to be cornered into any additional conversations in regards to the new king’s intentions towards her. There were broad hints in her direction about the gathering no doubt being called together again soon to celebrate her marriage to King Michel but Elena pretended to be oblivious to their implication and only managed to excuse herself from one well-meaning matron only to be cornered by another.

  It was with a feeling of intense relief when later in the evening she slipped away from the gathering without making her formal excuses to the king. As the evening progressed, the married knights and nobles had sought their own homes in the company of their wives and the king’s company had taken on a younger, overwhelmingly male flavor. She deduced correctly her presence among them would only serve to dampen their rising, ale-enhanced spirits.

  Entering her rooms she rubbed her temples to ease the pounding headache she struggled with for the majority of the evening. Lissel, her maid, waited to help her remove her gown and prepare for bed. For a moment, Elena considered sending her away. She was quite capable of undressing herself and pulling a sleeping gown over her head, but she could see Lissel’ s glance was alight in anticipation of the opportunity to discuss the events of the evening and Elena could not bring herself to squelch the girl’s enthusiasm with a careless dismissal.