Fearsome Brides

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Maximus took another drink of wine and squeezed her hand before releasing it, picking through the food he had brought and offering her something small, baked, and pie-shaped.

  “Here,” he said. “It is custard. Surely you have not finished eating yet.”

  Courtly shook her head, took the custard, but didn’t bite into it. She noticed that Maximus had not replied to her statement. As he rummaged around for more little custard pies, she spoke.

  “Please tell me your thoughts, Maximus” she said. “If you have changed your mind, I do not blame you.”

  He looked at her, frowning. “Why do you keep saying that?” he asked. “I have not changed my mind. I will never change my mind, so you can put your fears to rest. I am simply thinking on how to approach your father with all of this. You have given me a good deal to think on.”

  Courtly pondered the situation, watching him down two small, custard pies. She took a tiny bite of hers. “Do you want my suggestion?”

  He nodded. “I asked you, did I not?”

  Courtly sighed faintly and set her custard pie down onto the bench beside her. “Send your brother and his wife to ask on your behalf,” she said. “My father both respects and fears Gallus de Shera. He is greatly impressed with the man. If your brother will plead on your behalf, my father may consider it. Truly, with the earl making the approach, he may have little choice in the matter.”

  Maximus looked at her, seriously. “I would be a poor man indeed if I sent my brother in to plead for your hand on my behalf,” he said. “I am not afraid of your father. If I do not ask for your hand directly, what manner of respect do you think he will have for me? Nay, love, I will not hide behind my brother, although I understand your position on the matter. When I offer for your hand, it will be directly to your father.”

  She smiled at him. “My apologies,” she said softly. “I did not mean to ask you to be any less than you are. I simply meant to suggest a way in which my father could surely not refuse.”

  Maximus reached out again and took her hand, holding it tightly in his big mitt. “I know,” he assured her quietly. “But this is between me and your father. Now, eliminating my brother as an intermediary, how else would you suggest I approach him?”

  Courtly thought on that. “As you said,” she replied. “Approach him directly and forcefully. Be firm but polite. My father respects strong men, of which you are clearly one, so the best way to handle him is to be stronger than he is. It is my suggestion you tell him what your intentions are rather than ask him. If you simply ask him, I can promise you he will deny you.”

  Maximus lifted his eyebrows in thought. “Then I will not give him the opportunity,” he said. “But if he denies me, then I hope you will like living on the run, because that is what we shall do.”

  Courtly giggled until she realized he was serious by the expression on his face. Then, she was rather stricken. “But… but you cannot do that,” she said, somewhat passionately. “What of your family? It will reflect poorly on them. And what about you? You have a great reputation, Maximus. You cannot ruin that by absconding with a woman. That is no way for a man like you to live your life. You cannot throw it all away simply because you cannot have the woman you want.”

  He didn’t like her reply even though he knew, deep down, that she was correct. He brushed the crumbs off his breeches, looking around to see if there was more food.

  “Do you want anything else?” he asked her, utterly avoiding her statement.

  Courtly could see he was putting her off. Because a man’s life was at stake, no matter how much she wanted to be his wife, she couldn’t let him ruin himself because of her.

  “Maximus,” she said softly. “Listen to me. If you and I run away together and you forsake everything, eventually, you will grow to resent me. That is no way for a marriage to exist. Once it is done, it cannot be undone. Your mistake cannot be undone. I will not let you destroy the rest of your life because of me.”

  He paused in the hunt for anything further to eat. When he looked at her, it was with uncertainty and sorrow.

  “You would not leave your father and go with me?” he asked.

  Courtly reached out and put her soft hands on his bearded face, looking him in the eye. “There is nothing I would want more than to go with you,” she whispered, touching the magnificent face of Maximus de Shera and feeling his bristly heat against her flesh. “I have known you less than a day and, already, you are under my skin. Your humor and generosity and good character has endeared itself to me. Would I go with you? Without question. But I could not have you ruin your reputation because my father denies your marriage suit. Mayhap in time, he will relent if you continue to ask him and demand he change his mind, but for us to run off without his permission… you will ruin everything you have ever worked for. It will reflect badly on your family. What would your mother say?”

  He was in the process of being thoroughly hypnotized by her luscious eyes and full lips, but the moment she brought up Honey, he stiffened.

  “You will not bring her into this,” he said.

  Courtly didn’t back down. “Why not?”

  He wanted to pull away from her but couldn’t. Those eyes had him within their grasp and there was no escape.

  “Because…,” he said hoarsely. “Because she would possibly say the same thing you have just said. If my mother were of better health, I would send her to your father in my stead. My mother and no other. No one denies Honey de Shera, of anything.”

  Courtly smiled gently. “I pray I have the opportunity to speak with her one day,” she whispered. “I would be deeply honored.”

  Maximus smiled at her but the pull was too strong. Reaching out, he grasped her and pulled her against him, his lips slanting hungrily over hers. He could feel Courtly resist at first, startled by his action, but he wrapped his muscular arms around her and refused to let her go. She was sweet and warm and delicious, tasting like the custard she had just eaten. He could taste it on her lips. He kissed her slowly, with a purpose, experiencing her scent and taste and texture. It was intoxicating.

  Maximus lost all sense of time as he gently suckled Courtly’s lips. She had stopped fighting him and was now collapsed against his chest, cradled in his arms as he feasted on her. Maximus had been with women in his lifetime, of course, losing his virginity when he was seventeen to the young women he had once described to Garran – She was the smithy’s daughter. When my father found out, he sent both her and her father away. I heard that she died later that year of a fever. Aye, that was all he really knew of love. He knew the pain of losing it before it even started.

  As he nibbled on Courtly’s chin, he vowed that this love would be different. Already, it was stronger than he had ever imagined it could be. This love, he would not lose. As he began to suckle Courtly’s lips again, he heard someone clearing their throat softly.

  “Maximus?”

  Maximus knew the voice so he wasn’t particularly startled as he looked up from Courtly’s flushed face. Stefan du Bois was standing several feet away, looking rather embarrassed that he had been forced to intervene. Maximus, however, was consummately cool.

  “Stefan,” he said evenly. “How did you find me?”

  Stefan didn’t look at Courtly as she pulled herself from Maximus’ arms, her back to Stefan as she struggled to compose herself. Stefan, like any good knight, was focused on his liege.

  “Lady de Shera has sent me for you,” he said. “She told me I could find you in or around the Street of the Merchants. Lady de Shera says that it is time to escort Lady Courtly back to Kennington.”

  Maximus stood up, realizing that his manhood was a slightly aroused as the result of his heated kisses with Courtly, but he simply shifted his tunic under the guise of repositioning the sheath for his broadsword to cover it up. He was still reeling from their kiss, however, so much so that he was having difficulty focusing on what Stefan was saying. But he forced himself.

  “Where is Lady de Shera?” he as
ked.

  Stefan threw his thumb in the direction of The One-Eyed Raven. “She is not feeling well so we must return for her before we take the lady home,” he said. “She says that she must accompany you back to Kennington so the lady’s father will not think her irresponsible for leaving the lady alone with you.”

  Maximus was already collecting Courtly’s possessions as the woman stood up, still wiping her lips, which were very red from Maximus’ bristly beard. Maximus took her by the elbow and politely escorted her to where Stefan was standing.

  “Did you just come from The One-Eyed Raven?” Maximus asked the knight.

  Stefan nodded. “Less than a half-hour ago.”

  “Has Gallus returned from his meeting with de Montfort?”

  “Not yet.”

  “And Tiberius?”

  “He and Garran went off together. They have not yet returned.”

  Now that Maximus knew the status of his men and his brothers, he turned to look at Courtly, who smiled up at him wanly. She still wasn’t over Stefan having stumbled upon them. Maximus could see the embarrassment in her features and it made him smile. He found humor in her chaste shame. It was very charming. He extended an elbow to her.

  “Shall we go, my lady?” he asked politely.

  Courtly forced a smile, accepting his elbow and refusing to look at Stefan as Maximus led her past him. He headed for the livery, taking his blushing lady with him as Stefan followed behind. They had to cross a couple of busy avenues before they arrived at the livery, the yard of which was crowded by a merchant and his traveling party. Maximus simply plowed through the group, but they gave him a wide berth. Maximus was not a man to be ignored, in any case.

  Inside the stable, the de Shera carriage had been removed when Jeniver had been taken back to The One-Eyed Raven. The only thing left was Maximus’ muscular jennet plus Stefan’s big, white rouncey. Maximus quickly realized that there was no transportation for Courtly so he sent Stefan to hunt down the livery owner. As Stefan went on the prowl, Maximus turned to Courtly.

  “I should apologize for that unseemly display,” he said softly, a gentle smile on his lips. “I should not have lost control as I did but I could not seem to help it. Worse yet, I cannot promise that it will not happen again.”

  Courtly broke into a bashful smile. “I suppose you must sample that which you intend to marry.”

  Maximus laughed softly. “I must,” he agreed, sobering. “And I am pleased.”

  Courtly gazed up at him. “As am I,” she whispered. “But… but I truly fear what will happen when you return me to Kennington. My father was clearly unhappy this morning when I went with Lady de Shera and I am afraid of what he will do upon my return. I suppose I am in for a row.”

  Maximus’ expression grew grim. Deadly, even. “He would not hurt you, would he?”

  Courtly shook her head. “Nay,” she assured him. “He would never do that. But he will be… angry.”

  Maximus considered that scenario. Not that he blamed the man, to be truthful. His daughter had all but been wrested away from him. With a sigh, he gently stroked her hair as he leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead in a gesture of comfort.

  “It is not your fault that we took you from Kennington,” he said. “But I understand your point. Hopefully my brother’s wife can soothe any anger your father might feel when we return you home, because angry or not, I intend to speak to him tonight.”

  Courtly wasn’t entirely sure that was a good idea. When her father’s mood was foul, there was no reasoning with him. To broach a marital contract would certainly not be well-met. She wasn’t convinced that tonight would be the appropriate night for such a thing but, on the other hand, she supposed there would never be a good time for such a thing in her father’s eyes.

  “Be mindful of his mood, then,” she said with a sigh. “I know you wish to speak with him sooner rather than later, but since you will not send your brother on your behalf, all I can say is that you must be mindful of his mood.”

  Maximus eyed her with some amusement. “I believe I can handle the man.”

  He was confident. Courtly appreciated a man with confidence, but she hoped he wasn’t in for a massive shock when her father denied him. In Maximus’ world, there was no such thing as a denial to his wishes. She could see it in his face. He had every confidence that he could convince Kellen to allow him to marry Courtly. She feared that would not be the case.

  Maximus, however, also harbored those secret fears in spite of his outward appearance. The lady had fairly convinced him that his pursuit of her hand would not be an easy task and, as much as he had told her he would not send his brother in his stead, now he was starting to reconsider. If Gallus could get him what he wanted, then he was willing to consider it, but on the other hand, he was a very prideful man. He wasn’t accustomed to sending others to do his tasks. As Stefan returned with the livery owner leading a small, gray palfrey, Maximus hoped that Gallus was returned to the inn by the time he got there.

  He needed the man’s counsel on a most serious matter.

  “Max, I am glad you are here. Plans have changed and we must discuss them.”

  Maximus had entered the smelly, stale inn only to run straight into his brothers, both of them. The words had come from Gallus, who had been standing next to Tiberius in quiet discussion over by one of the leaning, abused, tavern tables. But the appearance of Maximus had Gallus and Tiberius moving towards him, only to realize that on Maximus’ arm was a petite, rather beautiful woman. Both brothers came to a halt, focused on the lady.

  “My lady,” Gallus greeted. “Please excuse me. I did not see you when my brother entered the room.”

  Courtly smiled at the very handsome man with black hair who slightly resembled Maximus. “That would not be difficult, my lord, considering that Sir Maximus fills up the entire doorway when he enters a room,” she said, watching the brothers snort in agreement. “There is nothing to excuse, in any case.”

  Gallus was smiling openly at the woman. “You must be Lady Courtly,” he said. “My wife has told me about you and has spoken quite highly of you. I am Gallus de Shera and I believe you already know my brother, Tiberius.”

  Courtly dipped into a practiced curtsy. “My lords,” she greeted, noticing that the youngest de Shera brother was smiling at her quite broadly. It was almost comical. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Sir Tiberius.”

  Tiberius moved to take her hand but Maximus threw out a big arm, blocking his brother. “I would not if I were you,” he threatened, eyeing Tiberius. As Tiberius shrugged, good-naturedly, Maximus returned his focus to Gallus. “What plans have changed, Gal? Can the discussion not wait? I must speak to you most urgently.”

  Gallus was having a hard time keeping his attention strictly on his brother. He was mostly focusing on how tightly Maximus was holding on to the lady, which wasn’t like him at all. Gallus’ wife’s words were coming back to him now, words she had spoken that morning when Maximus had stormed off after his confrontation with Tiberius. If he truly feels something for the lady. Already, Gallus could see that it was true, astonishingly so. He’d never even considered that Maximus was capable of such a thing, although there had been a young woman in his youth that he had believed himself in love with. Still, Maximus was the last man he would ever have thought to have fallen for a woman.

  “I am afraid it cannot wait,” Gallus finally said. “Jeniver is prepared to escort the lady back to her father. I will send my wife with a full escort to Kennington and you will remain here with me. We have much to discuss.”

  That was not what Maximus wanted to hear. “Gal, whatever you wish to discuss is not more important than my news,” he said. “I have asked the lady to be my wife and she has agreed. But her father may prove to be a very large obstacle and I require your counsel on the matter.”

  On the balcony above, where the sleeping rooms were, they heard a familiar cry. “Oh!” Jeniver was overhead, looking down at them. “Max, I heard you! What thrilli
ng news!”

  They could then hear rapid footfalls as Jeniver ran across the catwalk and took the stairs at the far end very quickly. Gallus was already moving in her direction.

  “Slow yourself,” he admonished. “You will fall and break your neck.”

  Jeniver, moving swiftly, waved him off. She rushed right past him and straight at Maximus, throwing her arms happily around his neck. Maximus, grinning, accepted his sister-in-law’s congratulatory hug, but Gallus was not so happy. He held out his hands as if to ease the force by which his wife was hugging.

  “Easy, sweetheart,” he begged. “Max, if you squeeze her, you will have to answer to me. Do nothing!”

  Maximus started to laugh, holding his arms out as if to show he wasn’t squeezing his brother’s pregnant wife. “I am not touching her, I swear it.”

  By this time, Jeniver had released him and was moving to Courtly. Forgetting protocol, she hugged the woman happily.

  “My heartiest congratulations,” she said, squeezing Courtly before releasing her. “This is the best possible news, my lady. Welcome to our family.”

  Courtly was touched and pleased by Jeniver’s enthusiasm. “Thank you, Lady de Shera,” she said sincerely. “In truth, it has happened rather swiftly since Maximus and I have only just met, but… well, I am most pleased with his proposal of marriage.”

  Jeniver was ecstatic. “Of course you are,” she said. Then, she looked between Maximus and Gallus. “I heard what you said about the lady’s father. Do you plan to approach him tonight when we return her to Kennington?”

  Maximus nodded. “That is my intention,” he said. “I do not wish to wait.”