Courtly could hear muted voices, at least two unfamiliar ones and then Maximus’ deep tone. She couldn’t quite hear what was being said but she was sure, much like any other type of obstacle Maximus de Shera faced, he was beating the priests down stone by stone by sheer force of will. She smiled as she thought of the man who was to be her husband, thrilled beyond measure that the stars had aligned enough so that she was able to marry the man without immediate fear of her father. It was almost too good to believe.
My father. Courtly tried not to think too much of Kellen and what his reaction would be when he discovered what she had done. Ellice had been so instrumental in making sure Courtly and Maximus were together that she seriously worried about the safety of her aunt, wondering if her father would somehow find out the extent of what she had done and punish her.
Courtly had never particularly had any use for her normally-taciturn aunt, but the situation with Maximus had changed that opinion. Ellice would not let the same thing happen to Courtly that had happened to her. She had been most determined that her niece not be a spinster. Perhaps in some way, she would share in Courtly’s happiness, knowing she had contributed to it. Courtly certainly hoped so. Many people had risked many things in order to see her and Maximus joined, not the least of which was Kirk St. Héver.
As Maximus and a priest emerged from behind the carefully-carved screen made from Yew, Courtly briefly reflected on St. Héver and his selfless act of disobedience. Courtly remembered back to the previous year when St. Héver had impressed upon her his feelings for her and she clearly remembered, with some sadness, how she could not reciprocate them. St. Héver had been disappointed but he’d take it in stride and had never mentioned it again.
Even last night, when their party had reached Woodstock and, under the guise of helping bed down Isadora, he’d hypothetically presented a story to Courtly about a young woman who ran off from her escort and ended up at The Buck and Bounty Inn to rendezvous with her lover and had made no mention of his past feelings for her. All he had said was that he hoped she was finally happy. St. Héver was taking an enormous chance incurring her father’s wrath and they both knew it, but St. Héver didn’t seem to care. He simply opened the rear door to the inn they happened to have been staying at and told her that The Buck and Bounty was down the avenue. Stunned, Courtly had kissed him on the cheek before running like the wind.
But thoughts of Kirk St. Héver faded as she focused on Maximus, who was smiling at her as he approached with a short, thin man in heavy, woolen robes. The priest took them both back behind the screen and, with Maximus’ generous payment of five gold crowns, performed a marriage mass, the end of which saw Lady Courtly Love de Lara become Lady Courtly de Lara de Shera.
It all seemed so surreal and dream-like as Maximus put the beautiful, golden ring on her finger, the big stone glistening in the weak light. Once the mass was complete and the marriage recorded in the big book that the priests kept of births, marriages, and deaths, Maximus took his new wife out of the church and headed back to the livery to collect his horse. And with that, a whirlwind courtship had finally become a marriage. It was done.
But there were no thoughts of consequences or angry fathers after that. There was only joy. As they crossed the busy road towards the livery, Maximus held Courtly’s hand tightly, so tightly, in fact, that he was cutting off her circulation. By the time they reached the stable, she was forced to extract her hand from his grasp. When he looked at her, questioningly, she grinned and held up her hand.
“I was losing feeling in it because you were holding on so tightly,” she said, showing him the red-marked fingers. “What are you afraid of? That I’m going to run away?”
He grinned. “Nay,” he said. “I apologize, love. I did not realize I was trying to crush your hand.”
Courtly laughed, watching as Maximus sent a stable boy on the run for his horse. When the boy fled, she spoke.
“You did not,” she said. “In fact, I welcome the way you hold me. It tells me that you will never let me go away again, no matter what.”
Maximus turned to her, pulling her into his arms and gazing down into her sweet face. “I will always be with you,” he said softly. “Just as you shall always be with me, until the end of time. We are forever joined, you and I. Not even your father can separate us.”
Courtly relished the feel of his arms around her, the power and majesty that was Maximus de Shera. “I consider myself the most fortunate woman on the face of the earth,” she cooed. “I was a fool to run from you, Max. I hope you understand that my motives were true.”
He nodded, bending over to kiss her on the nose although he wanted to do much more than that. She was his wife now and with her warm, soft body pressed against him, the arousal was instant. Everything about her was consuming him already.
“I know,” he whispered. “I told you on the road outside of Begbroke that I was going to tell you just what I thought of your running off, but now I find that it is wholly inconsequential. There were a great many things I was going to tell you after I spanked you soundly for such a thing, but I have you back now and nothing else seems to matter.”
Courtly bit her lip to keep from grinning. “Not even spanking me?”
“Not even that.”
“Are you prone to spanking women, then?”
“Do you intend to test me and find out?”
She broke down into giggles, hugging the man tightly with her head against his broad chest. Maximus held her snuggly, savoring the moment as he had never savored anything so sweet in his entire life. He was very correct. Now that he had her back, things like spanking and fear and even Kellen de Lara had little meaning. As long as he had Courtly, he could move mountains.
The stable boy brought the distinctive black and white charger around and Maximus lifted his wife to the saddle before swinging on behind her. Paying the boy a few pences, he spurred his horse out onto the busy avenue.
The morning was late and the time was bearing down on noon as Maximus directed his horse towards The One-Eyed Raven. As they took a side street and ended up on a wider avenue, they came face to face with the burned-down hostel that had brought them together. There were scavengers picking through the ruins and Courtly seemed very interested in the activity as they rode by. Maximus sensed her concerned focus.
“Do you want to see if any of your possessions are left?” he asked her. “I can stop and we can go through the ruins. Mayhap something is still there.”
Courtly shook her head, although there was longing in her expression. “Nay,” she said. “If there was anything left, I am sure it is gone by now. I am sure the vultures have been going through everything since the embers were cool enough to touch.”
Maximus wasn’t hard-pressed to agree with her so he continued on, noting that she remained focused on the hostel until they had passed well out of range and she was forced to turn around.
“You said it best,” she sighed, watching the city around them as it passed by. “Although I should not be thankful for a fire such as that, I am grateful that it brought us together. Every time I see a fire I shall think of you.”
He snorted. “It will remind you of how scorching and consuming I am.”
She laughed, snuggling against him as they rode along. “You are indeed scorching and consuming,” she said, turning to grin up at him. But her grin soon faded. “Please tell me what will happen now. Where will we go from here?”
He didn’t even want to think about the separation that was coming but he had little choice. Moreover, he had to tell her what was to come. A gloved hand came up, touching her head tenderly.
“Now that I have you, I do not want to leave you,” he said softly. “That does not please me, not in the least.”
Courtly cocked her head curiously. “Leave me?” she repeated. “Where are you going?”
He sighed heavily, thinking on the events to come. He was quite certain she knew nothing about de Montfort other than the cursory information she ha
d heard because of her father, and she more than likely was still under the impression that de Montfort and his barons, including de Lara, were in Oxford for a great gathering. She would have no way of knowing that those plans had changed. There had never been the opportunity to tell her.
“Yesterday, after we left you and St. Héver outside of Begbroke, I went on to The Buck and Bounty to wait for you while my brothers returned to Oxford,” he began softly. “Even now, my brothers are preparing our men to move to London. We have been ordered to be there by next week. Since I will go to London purely on business, and I do not want you there in the midst of many different and opposing houses, you will be returning to Isenhall Castle with Jeniver. It will be safer for you there.”
Courtly was extremely disappointed to hear what the immediate future would entail, but she didn’t argue or cry about it. She wasn’t the type. She simply accepted it, stoically. There wasn’t much else she could do.
“What is happening in London?” she asked softly. “Can you tell me?”
Maximus thought on how to simplify things. “Last month, de Montfort wrested most of the power away from the king,” he said. “The king was presented with a series of provisions, one of which outlined the manner of government we would have from now on. It is meant to be a more fair and autonomous way of governing. De Montfort will select twelve men and the king will select twelve men, and together that group of twenty-four men will form a council to govern England. We have received word that the king is prematurely convening his half of the council and de Montfort wants to be there when they do as a show of force.”
Courtly understood quite a bit about politics, purely from her father. The man didn’t have many people to talk to so, consequently, he talked to his daughter a good deal about the winds of political change currently enveloping England. She understood what Maximus was telling her and she also knew that this was a volatile situation. Wars had begun for less reason than this. But any war that started, her sweet Maximus would be at the head of it and she dreaded that thought. It punched holes in her belly, making her nauseous simply to think on it.
“My father did not say anything about going to London,” she said after a moment. “I wonder if he even knows?”
Maximus shrugged. “He should know by now,” he said. “As of yesterday, de Montfort was sending out messengers to all of his barons, telling them to congregate in London next week. That is another reason I will not take you to London. If your father is there, I do not want to chance you crossing paths with him.”
Courtly was forced to agree. “Nor do I,” she said. “But this council… are you sitting upon it?”
Maximus shook his head. “Gallus is,” he said. “And many other great barons. It will truly be a sight to behold once convened.”
Courtly thought on that scenario as they passed onto a street that would take them to The One-Eyed Raven. In fact, she could see the structure in the distance and her heart began to ache. Things were happening so quickly that it was difficult to grasp. But she knew one thing – she had married a warrior, the Thunder Warrior, and he would be fighting wherever there was a battle that involved him, or wherever de Montfort told him he should fight. She knew that when she met him, but the reality of it was still disheartening.
“When will you be leaving?” she asked.
His grip tightened on her, hearing the longing in her voice. “We should have left this morning,” he said. “There will be a full moon tonight so it is my suspicion that we will move out under the cover of darkness. You and Jeniver will return to Isenhall in the morning after you have had a night’s sleep.”
Courtly struggled not to let depression overwhelm her. She clutched at Maximus’ arm, the one he was holding her with, already missing the man tremendously. She simply couldn’t help it.
“Tell me of Isenhall,” she said to distract herself from the tears that were threatening. “What is it like?”
Maximus thought on his home in Coventry, feeling comforted knowing that Courtly would soon be within the massive, protective walls. “I was born there,” he said. “It is an oddly shaped fortress. You will see for yourself. It is round and the keep and great hall are all jammed into the middle of it. The bailey is quite small but the keep is enormous. As a child, there were many places to hide. We used to torment my mother constantly with our disappearances.”
Courtly smiled happily as she thought of Maximus as a devious child. “Please tell me about your mother,” she said. “I know she is very ill. Would it be too much for you to tell me something of her?”
Speaking on Honey these days was much of a strain, but he found that he wanted his new wife to know about his mother, the woman he loved best in the world. At least, the woman he had loved best until Courtly came into his life. He wanted his wife to see the woman through his eyes.
“My mother is a de Lohr,” he said. “She is the youngest daughter of Christopher and Dustin. Although my grandfather passed away some years ago, my grandmother is still alive. My mother is much like her, actually; feisty, strong, fearless, compassionate. Her given name is Charlotte but my father started calling her ‘honey’ early in their relationship, so that is what everyone calls her. She rules with an iron fist and loves beyond reason. She is a warm and wonderful woman and her illness has been very difficult for us.”
Courtly digested the description of the Lady Honey de Shera. “May I ask you to tell me what ails her?”
Maximus grunted. “A cancer in her belly,” he said. “She fell ill last fall and it has grown progressively worse. The physic believed she would be dead last month but still, she has lingered. My brothers and I were hoping to see her after de Montfort’s meeting but, unfortunately, that will not be the case. I must go to London and you must go introduce yourself to her as my wife.”
He said it with some humor, causing Courtly to turn and look at him. She smiled at the man, seeing in his eyes how sorrowful he was about his mother. She put a soft hand to his bearded cheek.
“I will introduce myself happily,” she said. “I can only pray she finds me acceptable to be a member of the House of de Shera.”
Maximus kissed the hand that was on his face. “She will,” he murmured. “She will love you as I do.”
The smile faded from Courtly’s face and she tipped her head up, kissing him gently on his soft lips. Maximus leaned in and kissed her hungrily, suckling on her lower lips, struggling not to let his passion and arousal overwhelm him out in public for all to see. It was an effort to pull away as they came upon The One-Eyed Raven, but his thoughts turned to the inn itself and the bedchambers on the second floor. He fully intended to consummate his marriage before he left for London. In fact, it was nearly the only thing on his mind.
The livery behind the inn was crowded with de Shera horses and the big yard surrounding the livery was also jammed with them. Horses spilled out into the street, tethered, and being tended to by overworked stable boys. Maximus’ attention was diverted from his luscious wife for a moment as he entered the livery yard and realized just how many de Shera men were present. His brother had brought fifty men with them to Oxford, men that had been spread out somewhat because they couldn’t all fit in one tavern, but it was clear that all of them had now gathered.
Maximus tethered his jennet personally inside the livery so the stable boys could tend the sometimes snappish animal. Taking his wife with him, he proceeded into the rear of the tavern, noting that it was a hugely busy and crowded place inside. Men were eating, talking, yelling, and in general creating a bit of a ruckus. Over near the barkeep’s station, he saw Tiberius and Gallus around the usual de Shera table and he made his way towards them, shoving aside a soldier who came too close to Courtly. The man went flying, bashing into a leaning table, which collapsed onto the floor.
Gallus and Tiberius looked over when they heard the crash, seeing Maximus and Courtly approach. The both rose from their seats, varied expressions of pleasure on their faces.
“Ah,” Gallus said. “
Maximus enters a room as only Maximus can. So you have returned, my prodigal brother?”
Maximus gave him a half-grin, glancing over his shoulder at the soldier picking himself up off of the broken table. “He is lucky I only shoved him when he came near my wife,” he said. “Next time, I will break his neck.”
Gallus and Tiberius looked straight to Courtly, the smiles fading from their faces as the reality of Maximus’ words hit home.
“Wife,” Gallus repeated softly. Then, he reached out to Courtly and placed a very brotherly kiss on her cheek. “Welcome to the family, Lady Courtly. We are very honored to have you.”
Courtly smiled timidly at Gallus, thinking that the man was perhaps lying. All she brought with her was uncertainty and discord into a family that was strong and relatively peaceful. She could only imagine that Gallus was already thinking of the long-reaching implications with her father.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said. “I am deeply honored to be a member of the House of de Shera. I shall do my best to always be worthy of my station.”
Gallus’ smile was back. “You are Lady Allesley now,” he said. “You are a baroness and most worthy of that title. My brother is a very fortunate man.”
Courtly looked at Maximus, surprise registering on her features. “I had completely forgotten about your title,” she said. Then, she teased him. “Be assured I did not marry you for your rank.”
Tiberius entered the conversation. “Or his comely looks.”
As Maximus scowled at his younger brother, Courtly laughed. “I did indeed marry him because he is the handsomest brother,” she said. “No offense, my lords, but I am rather partial to him.”
Tiberius kissed her on the cheek. “You have no taste in men,” he said, “but I am happy to call you my sister.”
Courtly accepted Tiberius’ kiss, watching Maximus push his brother away when he thought the man lingered too long around Courtly. But she could also see that it was in good-natured fun. The brothers clearly adored and supported one another, as she’d seen from the beginning. It was heart-warming to see such interaction from a powerful family that not only worked well together out of sheer family loyalty, but also liked one another. That was rare. Courtly grinned at Tiberius as the man made faces at Maximus, but Maximus was content to ignore the man soundly, at least for the moment.
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