The Lost Lady

by Amelia Brown

  Luveday looked up at him and wiped a tear away from his cheek. “What took you so long to get here?”

  “Emmalyn begged me to let my anger cool before hunting Benedict down,” Luveday cringed at the words, but he continued. “Truthfully, it was the King. I had to come to court to inform the King that my betrothal was broken. Sumerland raged as well, but he should have known that it would get him nowhere.” He chuckled deep in his chest, and it shook Luveday in his arms. “I think the King was looking for an excuse after the bastard refused to send any men to the north. Short of siding with Sterling, there wasn’t a surer move to gain the King’s wrath.”

  “There was something about him paying something?” She asked.

  “Edward couldn’t outright punish him for his disloyalty, nothing to accuse Sumerland of, but the King could make sure I kept the dowry promised me since, in truth, it was not I who broke the engagement.” Luveday laughed, knowing Iain had already spent most of the coin paying for labor on the walls, new livestock, and seed for the fields.

  “So that was why he was so angry.” She nodded. She leaned back so that she could see him better in the fading light, while not actually stepping out of his arms.

  “Then you were at court healing the prince, and while I made several journeys there, I never saw you.”

  “I never knew.” She hadn’t guessed, “though I rarely left the prince’s side while he was ill.”

  He laughed. “I know, and the King would send me away again so swiftly I didn’t have time to find you.” He looked as if he might have tried to hunt her down.

  “And Sterling?” She asked quietly and saw the mask of ice and death slide over his features.

  Through gritted teeth he told her the truth. “I had wanted the man dead for taking you, but when I heard he had come close to killing you, I swore I would not stop until he was mine.” Luveday shivered thought the air was warm. He looked down at her, catching the movement and his expression softened. “I swore no man would lay a hand on you and live.” He kissed her hard, and it ended too quick for both of them. “I had him cornered, and if it had not been for Gregori yelling at me that the King wanted him alive, I would have taken his head on the spot.” He sighed. “As it was, I got him in the side. We bound him, cursing and screaming, but I didn’t care. The bastard had tried to burn the healing rooms at Pyne-on-the-Abbey.” Luveday started having just been there. “There were nuns and men inside, but he thought only of escape.” Luveday reached up to brush the grimace from his lips, and he kissed her fingertips. “When I returned the King had come to a settlement between Sumerland and me, which you saw.” He looked to the house, and Luveday caught movement out of her peripheral vision as lights suddenly shown in the windows. “Pillar was back, you were to be given coin as reparation and a boon, and I was once again sent away without a word to you.”

  “Yet you and Benedict surely talked.” Luveday thought a moment. “Has he had word from you, I mean before the last visit to court?” She asked, once again remembering the letter she had received and Benedict’s apologies.

  “Of course, you would consider that. Are you mad at him, or at me?” Iain asked gently, pushing a stray hair behind her right ear.

  Luveday had to think about that for a moment. “I am not mad that you spoke to him… Though I might be a little upset if you spoke to him about me, and neither of you mentioned it,” Luveday admitted it was silly that the two sworn blood brothers would never talk to each other again over a woman. If Benedict had known what had happened at the wedding, why hadn’t he said something sooner?

  “Don’t be cross with us.” He tried to move her along, farther from the house, but she didn’t budge. “I was waiting on the King to settle the matter with Sumerland, and hoping he wouldn’t suggest another betrothal…”

  Luveday cut in. “Do you mean the King suggested your betrothal to Sumerland?” Iain nodded but said no more. “Well, shoot.” She had learned quickly enough that the King didn’t suggest anything. If he had given the green light for Christabel, then it was a done deal.

  “That wasn’t the only reason I didn’t break the betrothal, Luveday. You know the rest.” He cautioned, not putting the blame on the King but taking responsibility for his actions, making her love him more even though the reminder hurt. She nodded not able to speak past the lump in her throat. He pulled her close again. “Luveday, it was never you I… I wanted it all, and for a while I thought I could bend everything to my will, not realizing it wasn’t bending, I was breaking you.” A pained gasp left her, and Iain held her closer speaking into her hair, into her ear. “I thought if I could keep my vows to you and her separate, but it was… I was a fool, and I realized it too late.” She shook her head, but he clarified. “I hadn’t yet married Christabel, but it was still too late because you had gone.” He breathed. “I just hadn’t known it yet.”

  The stood for a moment holding tightly to one another. A voice rang out from the manor, and they walked back hand in hand. Titus looked stoic beside the fire, Benedict, and Gregori with him, and Luveday got the feeling that they had been talking for a while. Everyone was silent until all but Luveday’s eyes turned to Iain. He moved her with a hand at the small of her back until they were near a growing group of people. Feeling the pressure, Luveday turned to find Iain gazing at her. He took a knee, and the shock that filled her expression was mirrored in Beatrix and Gemma’s eyes.

  “I know this comes on grim tidings, but I cannot let you go again. Lady Luveday, will you do me the honor of binding your life to mine for thing day forward, from this life to the next and forever.” Luveday felt the world start to tilt but righted herself. She blinked back tears that refused to stay behind her eyes and pressed her right hand against her lips to keep them from trembling. She couldn’t speak but nodded vigorously and fell onto him, ignoring the ring he held, and never noticing that the band encircled a very important looking document, baring the King’s seal.

  “Finally, little cousin.” Gregori tore her away as soon as the couple parted. She was spun around in a room that was already spinning.

  “Long overdue!” Benedict laughed and kissed her on both cheeks.

  Congratulations came from every corner as serving women, the household knights and even some familiar faces from Lander’s Keep chimed in. Lastly, Lord Titus stood before her, his expression had lightened, but still held a hint of stone. She knew the emotions he was holding in check and couldn’t fault him.

  “I am happy you have found your place, Lady Luveday.” How often had in their talks had they both admitted to feeling out of place despite all they had? “Your happiness in long overdue.” They both remember the words she had spoken to him on their first meeting.

  “I wish the same for you, Lord Pillar.” She said earnestly. Iain swept her away for a moment, but Luveday extracted herself, there was plenty of time for stolen kisses later, she was still the lady of the manor, and she had things to do.

  Chapter 22

  “You were made perfectly to be loved- and surely,

  I have loved you, in the idea of you, my whole life long.”

  ~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

  Luveday laughed and waved at familiar faces, blinking back tears to keep them in focus. She sat in front of Iain, for as soon as the village was in sight Gregori had taken her reigns and her betrothed had swept her off her own horse and into his lap. “Easy, Luv.” He chided as her attention swung from one side of the horse to the other. People lined the road, lined the wall of the castle’s bailey and waved frantically as they shouted their welcome.

  Luveday laughed whole heartedly laying her own arm atop the one surrounding her waist. She thought she would never hear that endearment enough to satisfy her. “We are home, Iain.” She leaned back against him and titled her head back. A warm mouth kissed her right cheek.

  “At last, my Luv.” He growled into her ear so that only she could hear.

  Before the horse came to a stop Ellie was at her knee almost climbing her skirts
to hug her. Lady Emmalyn was more sedate, but she looked as if staying atop the stair before the keep was costing her. Luveday was lowered into Ellies arms. Both young women crying as they stumbled over to add Lady Emmalyn in the mix. The men chuckled and laughed, teasing the women for their soft emotions, but more than one man stealthily wiped away a tear amid the roaring welcome.

  “Oh, My dear.” Emmalyn gasp. “How we have missed you!” Luveday was pulled inside and she greeted and hugged anyone she met. Iain looked on, for once, not riled but other men’s attentions towards her. As tears continued to flow from the female population, he looked around and smiled to himself.

  Gregori came up to clamp him on the shoulder. “Is it as you imagined?” Like always, the abbey trained knight knew exactly what he was thinking.

  “Better.” Iain returned the gesture and looked out to his people, all colorfully dressed in scarves and midsummer flowers eagerly welcoming his future bride home. How many times had he imagined this seen as lad? How different it was from the first time around. He walked shoulder to shoulder with his best knight, that was until Benedict separated them, laughing as he put an arm across each of their shoulders, though he had to be on the tips of his toes to do so. They looked at each other. Iain and Gregori turned to look at their mates, as Benedict quickly stuffed flowers in their colors before escaping towards the ladies. Iain pulled his free knowing they were favors from hopeful young women. There was only one women Iain was concerned with at the moment, and she had eyes only for him.

  Two months had passed since Luveday’s return and the castle was full to bursting. Tents circled the outer walls and people filled every free space around the outer bailey. Luveday looked out of the solar window from behind a curtain and tried to keep her light meal down. It was late morning and the mild weather for so late in summer was refreshing to everyone except the bride and groom. Iain had given over the solar as her own small chamber, where she had sworn to spend the nights until the wedding, was not large enough to accommodate the host of women determined to see to her preparations. No one need to calm her innocent nerves as she was a healer after all, and more knowledgeable about the male body than some men. Instead they laughed and joked and teased those yet to marry.

  “Now, come away, Luveday. You will do fine.” Emmalyn grabbed her arm causing the bride to release her white-knuckled grip on the velvet curtain. “We have practiced this dozens of times.” The soft voice of her mentor was soothing to her over active nerves. Luveday innated fear of public speaking had vanished over the years, or so she had thought, until glancing at the gathering masses that morning. Emmalyn continued to pat her arm and talk to her, but Luveday didn’t hear a thing as the door swung open. Both Lady Janes, Benedicts mother and Lady Jane whom she had met in the north, parted to allow Queen Augusta to enter. The room curtsied as one.

  “Lady Luveday.” Augusta’s out stretched arms beckoned her closer. Luveday took the offered hands before the Queen continued. “You look as you are named, Lovely.” Luveday smiled despite the sappy words. The other women grew quiet. “I cannot say how happy we are by this outcome.” She looked at Emmalyn and nodded. “I thought Christabel might grow to be a good wife, for under the courtly venter I thought I had seen a strong spirit.” Many frowned at mention of Iain’s first betrothed no knowing where the Queen’s thoughts lead. “But had I met you, I would have known you to be his true mate.” Smiles brightened, and heads nodded their agreement. “We wish all the blessings this life may give, on you and De Lane.” The Queen pulled her close and kissed each cheek, while someone gasped behind her. “May the Creator give you strength, in times of weakness, may He give you love, in times of anger, may He give you wisdom in times of folly, and may He give you peace in times of tragedy.” Murmurs followed her words. “Now,” she smiled broadly. “What is this I hear about you not opening our gift?”

  “Luveday.” Emmalyn chided, not really knowing what the Queen was refereeing to, but well aware that to refuse a gift from royalty was unheard of. “Why would you not accept it, child?”

  She visibly cringed but the smile on her face grew wider. “It is not that I don’t except it.” She talked to Emmalyn over her shoulder and turned back to August who still retained one of her hands tracing the pattern of silver thread around the cuff of her velvet sleeve. “It is that,” Luveday paused causing the Queen’s attention to return to her, as she dropped the pilfered hand. “It is, your majesty, that Iain has decided to take me as I am. Before we know how your gifts…” not many caught the s on that word, “… can change me.”

  Augusta laughed. “No gift that I can give could accomplish that, dear Lady,” but she nodded, approving of the romantic gesture. “Then let you be as you are… and let Iain be what he wishes, and for now, be only a man and woman vowing to love as the Creator made us to love and be loved.” She looked at the women in the room. “The scroll will be there when you have need of it.”

  Saying goodbye, the Queen left to another wave of curtsies, but grabbed the younger Jane’s attention before departing. Both women walked out the door as if closed behind them, but a moment later Jane returned. Though she had little experience with brides, Lady Jane Kilgrave was secretly elated to be personally invited to attend the wedding. Luveday treated her like any other woman, and Jane watched with ramp interest the goings on of the bride. She knew with was as close as she would ever get to the alter herself, and she savored the bittersweet experience.

  By the time the first bell tolled, the group had ushered the bride down the stairs. A moment later they were out the main door and like the proverbial Moses, the crowd parted to reveal a path before them. Luveday looked for only one man, because she knew her place was beside him and as she came to stand at the foot of the chapel, a reverent silence fell over the crowd. Father Quinn said a quick blessing, but it was Father Julian who cultured tones carried over the masses. The blessings and intonements commenced as if he sang them to heaven. He said the vows, and Iain repeated as if none stood before him but Luveday, “I, Iain Hargrave Fitzwilliam De Lane, take you, Luveday Marie Bennett, to be no other than yourself as the Creator made you. I take you as my wife, with your faults and your strengths, as I offer myself to you with my faults and my own strengths, to help you in times of trouble. The shelter you when you are wary, and to have faith in your abiding love, through all our years and in all that this life may bring us.”

  It seemed only a heartbeat before Luveday found herself repeating. “I, Luveday Marie Bennett, take you, Iain Hargrave Fitzwilliam De Lane, to be no other than yourself as the Creator made you. I take you as my husband. Loving what I know of you, trusting what I do not yet know. I have faith in your integrity, your patience and compassion, and your abiding love for me through all out years and in all that life may bring us.”

  Together they intoned, “I vow my life, my happiness, my trust, and my love do bind us together from this moment forward, so long as we both shall live.”

  “What the Creator has bless by bringing together, let no man rend asunder.” There was an expectant breath. “With these vows, in the sight of the Creator and before these people, I name you husband and wife.” There was a roaring in Luveday’s ears, but she couldn’t tell if it was the crowd or if it was the blood pumping through her veins as Iain kissed her. If Father Julian had more words she couldn’t hear them.

  The crowd moved and so they moved to enter the chapel. There was a space between the couple and the first pews, but every other inch or seat of floor held a warm body. Even the King and Queen were pressed closed to each other. A roar sounded outside even through the closed doors as Father Julian finished the vows and the blessings over both of them. By the time the door opened once more. Tables lined the bailey as lines of guests paused to greet the newlyweds. Iain stood on the steps and said something about sharing their prosperity, but too soon Luveday found herself seated at the high table, drinking down a goblet of wine as if she were a man in the desert.

  Time had no meaning for the ma
rry makers. Luveday looked to her right and met the smiling face of the Queen as their husbands commented on something that was going on below. A moment later Augusta asked her in a stage whisper, “You look as if you are dazed, my friend, drink and eat something.” Suddenly there was a goblet at her lips followed by Iain pressing a bit of meat in her mouth. Luveday looked to him as he smiled knowingly down at.

  “You are right your majesty,” her husband said over her head. “I will see to it.”

  Chewing she thought the moment through not knowing what was going on. “See to what?” she asked as soon as she swallowed.

  “To you, my Luve.” He whispered in her ear as he kissed the lobe quickly. “You haven’t said a word since your vows.” He laughed. “I’ve seen men on the battle field with such a look.”

  “I am not in shock.” She stated matter-of-factly, but it only produced a puzzled look.

  “You’ve called it that before,” he muttered and let it go. “Whatever the word, you look faraway, and utterly tempting.” He added that last bit as he replaced the food at her lips with his own. The crowd below roared, and the King said something about holding it together over the riot.

  It was some time before she looked farther that the couple next to them. On Iain’s left were Lady Emmalyn, and Lord Frazier, followed by Lord Titus and Lady Jane St. James. Lord and Lady Stern finished off that end of the table. On Luveday’s left sat the Queen and King, followed Gregori and Ellie, as Ellie had traded places with her husband being too timid to sit next to the King of Anora. Cassandra and Warren sat at the head table, both stoic and looking as if they longed to join the masses and yet honored to be seated at the high table. Cassandra was well known to the King for she had treated his wounds on several occasions as a young man before finding her way to Lander’s Keep. At the end of the table sat Benedict and Lady Jane Kilgrave, but Jane kept her eyes mostly on the merriment below talking only when spoken too and looking for the world as if she were utterly absorbed in the food in front of her.