Velvet Touch

by Catherine Archer

  Surprising her with his directness, he said, “What, may I ask, has brought such a pensive frown?”

  She bit her lip, then answered him honestly. “I was but thinking about my father.” She paused then went on. “He will have to do as King Edward says, will he not? I mean, there is really no choice in the matter.”

  Stephen looked at her, realizing his opportunity to speak of Wynn had come. Slowly he nodded, knowing there was no point in being anything but straightforward. “I must speak true, my lady. Does Wynn agree, he will have no choice.”

  “But W…Wynn.” She hesitated, as if finding it difficult to say his name. “Will he agree?”

  Stephen’s gaze was unwavering and honest. “I believe he will.” He looked away then, frowning. “Do you wish to hear what happened the day I went to see him?”

  She hesitated again before replying. “I do.”

  Stephen took a deep breath, unexpectedly discovering that he was having a difficult time finding the words he wished to say. Drawing himself up straighter, he began, “First allow me to say that I think you will find Wynn a pleasant surprise from what you are imagining. He is, I believe, not ill-favored and is unlikely to strike fear in your heart on your…your wedding night.”

  Stephen could barely make himself say the last part, but he compelled himself to go on. It was madness for him to feel resentment toward Wynn or any man who might take her to his bed. He forced himself to attend Fellis, who seemed to listen to this with close enough attention, but there was little expression on her face.

  She shrugged, “I suppose I should be glad of that.”

  Stephen did not ponder her strange lack of concern as he related the events of that day. By the time Stephen had finished telling her what he had seen and learned of her future husband when he visited him, Fellis had still said very little.

  He made certain she knew that Wynn was a man who cared for his people, as her father did, as she did. Mayhap on that subject, if no other, they could find some common ground. They would surely have need of something. For if Sir Stephen was correct in his assessment, Wynn would eventually agree to the marriage.

  Fellis cast a thoughtful glance toward Stephen, but she said only, “I thank you for telling me of this. I must think on it.”

  Stephen wondered if he had been open enough, if he should make the rest clearer. Mayhap he should have done more than gloss over the obstacle of Wynn’s having to convince his allies to support the plan? Stephen had done no more than offhandedly mention the subject as if it were of little importance. And he had mentioned no other complications. Certainly not the fact that Wynn had a lover.

  Looking over at her, Stephen knew he could not do so. Once Wynn saw Fellis, he would forget any other had ever existed. What man would not?

  Unexpectedly she turned to him with a shrug. “I know not what tomorrow will bring, but for this one day, I wish to put it aside. I wish that more than anything.”

  How could Stephen deny her? Such a chance at freedom would not likely come for her again. He nodded, his gaze unknowingly gentle. “Let us forget then,” he replied.

  Though even as he said so, Stephen knew that the last thing he could allow himself to do was forget Fellis’s coming marriage. To do so was to court certain disaster.

  But for her sake he would pretend.

  Glenmarket was truly an amazement to Fellis and she could scarce focus her eyes upon one wonder before they were drawn to another.

  Even as they had come closer to the busy market town, the roads had grown more crowded with carts, horses and travelers on foot. Country folk in their best homespun garments, farmers in field clothes, and merchants in the finest velvets, each vied for their own portion of the busy thoroughfare.

  Not since early in the journey had there been any real conversation between Fellis and Stephen. It had taken her some time to think on all he had said of Wynn. If what the knight had told her of the other man was true, the notion of marriage to the Welshman was not so fearsome a prospect as she had previously thought.

  Could most of the troubles that had gone between their two peoples really be settled by them joining together in wedlock? She certainly hoped they could be. Especially because of the price she would be forced to pay did it come about.

  Deciding that she was not going to let thoughts of her future marriage or anything else ruin this day, Fellis pushed them to the back of her mind. She also tried not to think on how being with Stephen made everything seem more exciting, the sun brighter, the breeze more gentle. But these thoughts were much more difficult to control than the others.

  She knew the glory of the countryside awakening afresh to spring’s call should be more than sufficient to keep her occupied. New leaves waved delicately from the oak, birch and elm trees that grew along their route, as if competing with the evergreens for attention. Delicate flowers for which she had no name had begun to sprout in amongst the underbrush that was also greening.

  As they moved closer to town and the press around them became more dense, Stephen drew his mount a bit closer to her own, motioning for one of her father’s men to do the same on the other side. She felt precious and cared for as never in her life, though she knew there was no need for such cautiousness.

  Stephen seemed to sense her feelings, for he nodded with courtly grace as she looked over at him.

  Fellis could only smile her appreciation, for no words would serve to make him understand how much this day and his attentiveness meant to her. Would always mean, even when Stephen was far from here and she bound in a loveless marriage.

  They entered the town slowly, for the press of travelers had become great. In her excitement she was not able to fully take in everything she saw. Fellis had an impression of wattle and daub houses built along meandering streets. The common was divided into neat rows that lay between the forest and the impressive cluster of houses and public buildings. Looking at the many faces in the crowd around them as they made their way to the market at the center of Glenmarket, Fellis could see many Welsh mingling with her own countrymen. They were marked by their dark coloring and more loosely fitted garments, and also by the deep richness of their native language as they spoke to one another. None seemed to even give more than cursory attention to the fact that they mingled freely with folk who would have been their enemy in another setting. Here, as nowhere else in her experience, nationality came far behind commerce.

  Seeing this gave Fellis her first real glimmer of hope that a peace might be brought about by her marriage to Wynn. Surely if the two peoples could get along for the purpose of trading, they could do so in other circumstances.

  She could only hope so.

  Soon it became difficult for Stephen to keep his stallion even with her mare and he looked toward her with questioning eyes. “I think we are in no danger here. Would you care to dismount and look at the wares more closely.”

  His thoughts echoed her own, and, without hesitation, she nodded. “Oh yes, please.”

  He gained the ground in one fluid motion, then reached up to assist her. But remembering what had happened the last time he touched her, Fellis made a pretense of holding tightly to the saddle pommel as she slipped down to join him. She had given herself leave to enjoy this day, but she had no wish to further make a fool of herself where Stephen was concerned.

  If he took note of her action he made no comment, and for that she was grateful.

  Stephen handed the reins of their horses to two of her father’s men. “You can see that all is well here. Please take the horses to the forest at the edge of town. There, I’m sure, you will be able to find a cool place to tie them until they are needed. The first man nodded and said, “Yes, my lord.”

  Fellis then watched as the two moved off through the crowd, leaving their two fellows to act as guardians over Fellis. They remained mounted, each looking for signs of danger to their mistress.

  With a smile that was merely polite and that nonetheless did wild things to her heart, Stephen held out his arm
. His dark eyebrows rose high when she hesitated beside him. “Wouldst allow me to guide you, my lady. I will feel less fearful of losing you, should I have your hand on my arm.”

  With a delicate flush she nodded. “Oh course.” She reached out and rested her fingers ever so lightly on the soft velvet of his sleeve. “You have my thanks, Sir Knight.” After all, he was thinking only of her safety. ’Twould be churlish of her to refuse him.

  With her hand on his arm they started off through the bustling crowds. Though Stephen seemed mindful of keeping the guards in sight, he was not overly so.

  It was not long before she began to take note that the other occupants of the market made way for them as they passed. Fellis felt herself standing taller at the attention they drew. She felt like a great lady for the first time in her short life. Even her limp seemed less pronounced as Stephen matched his pace to her slow one.

  Stephen knew Fellis was aware of the stir she caused, her head held high as any queen. Even with the gray veil and wimple covering her head, many a man’s gaze was drawn to that delicate profile and the light of excitement in her azure eyes.

  Fellis was filled with life and it shone from inside her, making him wonder that she could have been kept from experiencing her true self for all this time.

  He had almost a sense that they were co-conspirators in a forbidden adventure. He did not even ask himself why this notion so pleased him. Following his inclination, Stephen drew her along until they came to the booths he sought.

  Before them along the route were several stalls set up to display bolts of cloth to best advantage. From here all looked bright and inviting. But Stephen knew, through his sister’s learned tutelage, to look more closely for the one that would suit.

  And then he saw it, near the end of the row, a booth like the others with brightly colored wares draped attractively over the counters and hanging elegantly from the corner posts. But what set it apart was the scarcity of customers. This told him it was most likely the very one he should seek out.

  Elizabeth had taught him that few could afford the very best of fabrics and thus he must be wary of buying from those sellers with many customers. He drew Fellis forward with him.

  Paying obvious attention to the quality of Stephen’s own garments, the merchant hurried forward with a ready smile. “How may I offer assistance, my lord?”

  Stephen saw the man’s gaze pass over Fellis’s plain gray clothing with a critically knowing eye, but his expression did not change as he spoke to her. “And, my lady. I hope I have some goods that might not offer insult to such noble customers.”

  “As you have guessed, we wish to see your finest goods,” Stephen replied evenly, though he was gladdened to see the man defer to Fellis so readily. Clearly the man was clever and Stephen knew he would do well to stay on his guard so as not to pay too much for what they purchased.

  When he looked to Fellis, he was amazed to find her eyes wide with what he could only describe as horror. She squeezed his arm as if in warning and made to draw him away.

  When he resisted, she leaned close, her eyes beseeching. Stephen bent down to her as she whispered in his ear, “Sir Stephen, we must not stay here. The goods in this booth are far too dear.” Her unconsciously yearning gaze moved over a length of pale green samite, the color of new grass. “We must go elsewhere.”

  “Nay,” he told her, trying to concentrate on her words, even as her warm breath on his earlobe sent a shiver of awareness down his spine. “We will buy our cloth here. This booth is clearly the best and that is what you shall have. The best and nothing less.” He said this softly, for her ears alone, as he did not wish it to be made even more difficult for him to get a fair price.

  As if sensing his need for a moment of privacy with his lady, the man busied himself at the other side of his stall.

  Fellis looked up at Stephen, biting her lip in consternation as if what she were about to say was more than a little difficult. “My mother would never allow it. ’Tis a sin to deck oneself in such finery.”

  He frowned in irritation, though it was not directed toward Fellis. Would her mother ruin this time even from a distance? He spoke carefully. “’Tis no sin to dress as befits your station. Your mother wears fine garments, even if the cut is a bit severe.”

  She shook her head. “My mother is a great lady, the wife of the Baron of Malvern. She must garb herself as befits her station.”

  “And you are his daughter.” His tone was harsher than he intended and he saw her raise her chin in reaction. He chided himself even as he admired the show of spirited resistance. Here again he saw that they had not cowed her completely.

  He went on more gently in deference to her pride. “Fellis, your father gave me more than sufficient funds to see you well equipped for your coming marriage. Do not worry over this. I beg you choose what you will. It is only right that you do so.”

  She looked down, stung by this further reminder of her coming marriage. As ever, Stephen thought of that eventuality and no other.

  Allowing Stephen to call the merchant back to them without further comment, Fellis cast her gaze over the lustrous fabrics the man began to lay out before her. A saint would be hard-pressed not to admire the fine samites, sendais and damask the man brought forward. And despite her disappointment in Stephen and his motives, she found herself reaching out to run her fingertips over a lush gold velvet.

  Fellis thought long and hard on which pieces of cloth would serve the purpose of being beautiful, as well as practical. Tentatively she then chose the green samite, a length of palest blue damask and another of deep peach in samite. That done, she turned to Stephen with a smile of accomplishment even as the merchant moved to set them aside.

  To her surprise the knight was scowling.

  To her further amazement she found herself scowling back at him in consternation, her hands going to her slender hips as she peered up at him. “What is the matter now, my lord? What have I done to bring about your displeasure this time?”

  He gestured to the piles of fabric lining the booth. “If it takes you as long to decide on the rest we shall be here for days.”

  She gave a delicate snort. “Decide on the rest. What mean you? I have made my decisions.” Surely he would press her no further in this matter.

  He simply looked at her with grim resolve on his handsome face as he folded his arms over his chest. “Nay, you have barely begun, my lady. We shall purchase enough cloth to garb you as the wife of a nobleman should be. Does it take you the rest of the day, I will not leave until we are done.”

  She folded her own arms, appalled at the very gall of him, to think she would be so wasteful.

  With a sound of complete exasperation, Stephen turned to the patiently waiting merchant. Without deigning to consult her further, he began to point at whatever caught his gaze. “We will take that, and that, and a length of this, and most certainly that one…”

  He went on until Fellis was fair dizzy with trying to recall all the fabrics and colors he had chosen. At some level of her mind she was aware that the knight seemed to have taken note of her preference for soft colors, for he selected many delicate and lovely pastels, shades that made her think of spring.

  The most notable deviation from this theme was a bolt of bright red damask that fair cried out to be noticed.

  In spite of her horror, there was nothing Fellis could do to stop it. In the end she could only watch with wide eyes as he removed a sizable handful of gold from her father’s purse and handed it to the bowing merchant, who did not seem to be able to stop smiling.

  Turning to the mounted guards, who had waited with patiently blank expressions through the whole exchange, Stephen told them to collect the goods and take them to where the others waited at the edge of town. And as they obeyed, the soldiers made not so much as a murmur to question him. In the face of Stephen’s self-assurance they seemed to have forgotten that Fellis might have need of protection from this very man.

  Looking up at Stephen as
he led her away from the cloth seller’s booth, Fellis wondered at his easy ability to govern others and his unshakable self-confidence.

  She could only imagine what it would be like to feel so completely sure of yourself and those around you. ’Twas a thing she’d never experienced or even thought to.

  Then knowing that she must be honest with herself at least, Fellis gave pause. She had to admit that since Stephen had arrived at Malvern she had found herself rebelling with near open hostility to his high-handed ways at times. She did not know why, but it seemed the knight brought out hidden depths of defiance inside her. And far from shame her, as the realization should, Fellis was pleased by it. She rather liked the notion of defying this arrogant man, who she was sure did not meet with such resistance from many.

  But even as she was considering this amazing fact, Stephen turned to her with a self-satisfied grin. “Now, my Lady Fellis, what shall we do next?” His gaze swept the busy throng before them.

  That streak of rebellion resurfaced. “And where would we go from here, sir? It would seem you have no need of my presence to see your way. You are clearly more than equal to the task of seeing to what must be done without my assistance.” She averted her face from him as she spoke.

  He stopped short with a frown of irritation, then nodded. “I am guilty as you have charged. Forgive me, I saw that you were having a difficult time of it and sought only to make things easier for you. ’Twill not make you feel near as guilty to wear your new garments once made if you have me to blame for having purchased the cloth that made them.”

  With an angry gasp, Fellis started away from him, even as the truth of what he had said struck home.

  Before she had gone more than a few steps, Stephen was at her side, his hand closing around her arm. And as always when he touched her, she knew a tingling awareness. But she hurriedly pushed it away as she swung around to face him. “My lord, please take your hand from me?”