The Maiden and Her Knight

by Margaret Moore

  “I believe I shall have a little word with Edmond about all this racing,” he remarked as he grabbed Demetrius’s reins and hurried after her, once more taking her hand in his. “It’s not dignified…or something.”

  They both laughed softly as they quickly headed back toward the meadow. She gloried in the simple act of holding his hand for as long as she could, as if they were any young couple in love, and without a care in the world. “I’ve tried. Besides, we weren’t exactly being dignified ourselves.”

  “We’re older.” He chuckled. “God’s wounds, that’s what Caradoc always used to say when he got to do something that I didn’t. I fear I’m turning into my older brother.”

  “Is that so bad?”

  “I suppose not—but he’s not much fun. Very grim and serious, Caradoc.”

  “You were very grim and serious when you first came here.”

  “Well, I was here to win a good ransom in the tournament.”

  “Losing cheered you up?”

  He halted and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “Not exactly,” he said with that wry self-mockery that charmed her. “By some miracle, I have won something far better.”

  “You have won my heart, at least, Connor,” she said, grave despite his smiling eyes, “but that is no miracle to me. You are the finest, truest knight I have ever met. Or if there is a miracle, it is that you came into my life and brought an end to my sorrow and loneliness. My love is a small recompense for that, but all I have, is yours forever.”

  He gently took her by the shoulders and looked down at her, love shining in his eyes. “Allis, if we had all the time in the world, I could not begin to tell you how happy you make me, and how blessed I feel.”

  “Where are you?” Edmond demanded peevishly.

  “Sadly, we don’t have all the time in the world,” she said as, the spell broken again, she once more started hurrying toward the sound of Edmond’s voice.

  “There you are!” Edmond declared when they reached the meadow and found him waiting.

  Puzzled, he looked down on them from the back of Firebrand. “What are you doing in the woods? I thought Demetrius wanted to gallop.”

  “I decided against it,” Connor said.

  Edmond’s eyes narrowed. “You look all red.” He studied Allis. “So do you.”

  A moment’s awkward silence ensued, until Allis suddenly realized Edmond was alone. “Where are Isabelle and Sir Auberan?”

  “Oh, back there,” Edmond replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Isabelle wanted a drink from the river. Sir Auberan stayed with her.”

  She trusted Auberan as much as she would any vain young fool around her pretty sister. “You shouldn’t have left them alone.”

  “Why not? You were alone with Sir Connor.”

  “I’m older.” She swung herself into the saddle. “I’m going after them. Edmond, help Sir Connor find a way to get on his horse.”

  She dug her heels into her mare’s sides and set off at a gallop across the meadow.

  Chapter 18

  “No, Auberan, I do not want to kiss you,” Isabelle protested as she gently shoved him away.

  Around them, willows bent over the water, and the slender branches of the trees dipped into the river.

  Auberan put one foot back into the ferns along the river bank to steady himself. “Isabelle, please, let me,” he pleaded, wrapping his arms around her again. “Once. Just once, that’s all I ask.”

  “No!” She pushed harder.

  As he let go of her, his feet slipped on the bank. His arms flailing helplessly, he stumbled backward into the river, then splashingly struggled to stay on his feet. The river was very shallow here, so there was no danger of him drowning, but it was rocky, so it was not easy for him to regain his footing.

  “Perhaps that will cool your ardor, Sir Auberan,” Allis declared as she drew her horse to a halt.

  Despite her stern tone and expression, she wasn’t angry, at least not at Isabelle.

  “How long have you been there?” Isabelle’s sodden would-be lover demanded, looking more like a damp dog than a knight.

  “Long enough to see my sister push you into the river, as you deserve.”

  “I didn’t mean to push him into the river,” Isabelle said. “He slipped and fell.”

  Allis had seen enough of the altercation to know that she most certainly had pushed Auberan in, and he deserved it, too.

  Mounted on Demetrius, Connor appeared on the river path beside her, Edmond behind him. “An odd time to bathe, isn’t it, Sir Auberan?”

  “Isabelle pushed him in.”

  “Why?”

  “He was behaving improperly.”

  “Ah.”

  “I was merely attempting to express my affection for Lady Isabelle,” Auberan retorted with affronted dignity.

  “Yes, that’s all he was doing. I don’t think everybody needs to make such a fuss,” Isabelle declared. She gave Allis a pointed look. “Especially people who have been off somewhere themselves.”

  “What I do or don’t do is none of your business, little sister,” she replied, feeling a moment’s regret that she had given in to the impulse to be alone with Connor. A quick glance at him, so tall and regal beside her, banished that regret.

  After all, Isabelle was just a girl, and whatever she said could be easily dismissed as a sibling’s annoyed gossip. As for Auberan, given his embarrassment, she was quite sure he would not be keen to explain the circumstances of his soaking.

  Her sister moved toward the edge of the bank and offered her hand to Auberan. “Let me help you.”

  “Be careful he doesn’t pull you in, too,” Allis warned.

  With a sour glance over her shoulder, Isabelle muttered, “I will.” Then, smiling at Auberan, she grabbed his hand and helped him clamber, shivering violently, out of the freezing water. “We had better get home at once, before you catch a chill. Perhaps Edmond would ride ahead and ask Merva to warm some chicken broth.”

  “All right,” Edmond readily agreed, turning Firebrand and spurring him into a gallop.

  Isabelle shot Allis another pointed glance. “Sir Auberan is our guest, after all, and we should always take good care of our guests. Isn’t that what you are forever telling me?”

  With that, she took Auberan’s hand just as Allis had taken Connor’s and walked with him to their horses. Although dripping, Auberan helped Isabelle to mount, then clambered onto his own horse.

  “I believe she is upset with me,” Allis noted as they began to follow them.

  “And I think I have been supplanted in your sister’s affections. I’m glad of that, but I must say it’s a little humbling to be replaced by that particular fellow.”

  “You may retain your pride. I know Isabelle, and she’s angry, so she’s making it look that way.” Which unfortunately meant she could still be harboring fantasies about Connor.

  As distressing as that was, Allis couldn’t blame her. Connor was the sort of knight who inspired maidenly dreams. “I’m hoping it’s just a youthful fascination that will soon pass.”

  “Has she had other ‘youthful fascinations’?”

  She felt a twinge of dismay. “No.”

  He gave her a comforting smile. “She’s a sensible girl, then. When she understands how we feel, she’ll probably be upset for a while, but then find a more suitable young man to admire. She’s pretty and sweet, and soon enough knights will be flocking around her like bees to honey.”

  Once again, he lifted a burden from her shoulders. “Although I think you’re right, I have to say the prospect of being under siege by an army of young knights intent upon winning Isabelle’s affection is a little daunting.”

  “Be of good cheer, my lady. You won’t have to endure it. You will be in Wales, with me.”

  She saw that he was absolutely serious and, feeling a shadow on her happiness, pulled her horse to a halt. “I cannot leave my family. They need me.”

  He caressed her hand and a winsome smile c
rossed his face. “Forgive me another selfish speech, Allis. I have been thinking of a little piece of land where I have dreamed of building a home. But that can wait until Isabelle is well married and Edmond comes of age. Or if you never want to live in Wales, I will make my home wherever you choose. I will be with you, and that is the most important thing.”

  Her heart filled with gratitude as well as relief. “Oh, Connor, I would go to the ends of the earth with you if I had only myself to think of. But I promise you, once Isabelle is wed and Edmond of age, we will live in the place you have dreamed of. All I dream of is being your wife, and after all your travels and hardship, you may choose where that will be.”

  His smile beamed, a delightful reward for what would truly be no sacrifice.

  “Besides,” she continued merrily as she nudged her horse into a walk again, “I think I should get to know your family. You are certainly coming to know mine.”

  “And I’m liking them very much, but not so well as the eldest.”

  Exchanging smiles, Allis and Connor continued to follow the sodden knight and the proud young lady back to Montclair as if they had nothing but happiness before them and all the world was young.

  Auberan and Lord Oswald stood in the dark chapel. Clouds covered the moon, so all was dark, save for the dim illumination of the votive candles.

  “She herself helped me from the river,” Auberan bragged as he finished describing what had happened.

  He left out the part about her refusing his kiss, making it sound as if he had slipped when he had been about to embrace her and that she had been very willing.

  “Indeed?” Oswald muttered as he strolled toward the candles. He bent forward, glanced up at the statue of the Virgin, then straightened without blowing any out.

  “Yes, and she was most concerned about my health afterward. She ordered chicken broth for me, and stayed by my bedside while I ate it.”

  “I see. Like a mother tending a sick child.”

  Auberan blinked. “I suppose so,” he stammered, “but she held my hand as we walked to our horses.”

  Oswald barely refrained from rolling his eyes and his hands itched to draw the jeweled dagger stuck through his belt, and do with it what it was made for: to deliver the coup de grâce—a quick and merciful death. This bungling fool really didn’t deserve to live. If he had been in Auberan’s place, he would have had Isabelle of Montclair flat on her back on the riverbank, half naked and begging for him to take her.

  He adjusted the wide leather belt around his long, dark blue wool tunic and thought of her fresh young beauty. Maybe he was wrong to give her to Auberan. It might have been wiser to seek her for himself. There would have been the matter of his present wife, but she could be disposed of with little trouble. A bribe to a bishop, and an unfortunate blood tie making the marriage illegal in the eyes of the church could be discovered.

  Well, he had not, so he would simply have to stay with his original plan. At least Rennick could be counted on to do as he was told without making a mess of things. To be sure, he had taken longer than he had expected in the matter of the recalcitrant chatelaine of Montclair, but only because he seemed to have some genuine feelings for the girl, try as he might to hide or ignore them. Fortunately, he had finally succeeded before he had to be replaced.

  “Do try to make her see you as a lover, not an invalid,” he chided the incompetent would-be seducer.

  “I almost kissed her before I slipped.”

  Almost kissed her. Good God, the fellow was truly pitiful.

  Rennick might be right. Family connections or no family connections, Auberan could indeed prove to be more of a liability than an asset. “Then hopefully next time you are alone with her, you will not be near a river and so have more success.”

  “I’m sure I will.”

  Oswald strolled around the altar, taking note of the costly embroidered cloth covering it. What a waste of money. “Where were the others while you were with Isabelle?”

  “Edmond had gone back to join Allis and Connor.”

  Oswald smiled like a teacher watching a slow pupil finally catch on. “And where were they?”

  “They stayed…” Auberan finally grasped an important point. “Are you going to tell Rennick?”

  His footfalls loud in the silence, Oswald sauntered toward Auberan, who had not moved from the middle of the empty chapel. “I don’t think I’ll have to.”

  Auberan frowned. “Shouldn’t he be back by now?”

  “He had other business to attend to before he could return.”

  “What other business?”

  “That is not necessary for you to know, my young friend. What is necessary for you to know is that you should not be trying to kiss Isabelle. You should be kissing her—and more.”

  Auberan didn’t meet his gaze. “I’m doing my best.”

  “Do better. We have not got an eternity for our plans to mature.” Or you.

  “When do you expect to take action?”

  “When the time is right.” Oswald circled his nervous young companion, happily intimidating him some more.

  “Richard is in England now, for once.”

  “Yes, but if the time is not yet right, we must wait.”

  “For what?”

  “As I said before,” Oswald growled as he once more faced Auberan, “we must be certain we have the support of many before we move. Besides, if Richard is not in England, we can always pay one of his own men to do the deed and make it look like a wound received in a battle far from here.”

  That was not at all his plan, but he was not about to tell Auberan the truth. “I sometimes thank God Richard is not a peace-loving man. Arrows go astray so easily.”

  “Arrows are the weapons of peasants and foot soldiers.”

  He stifled a long-suffering sigh. “What does it matter, as long as it does the task required and from a safe distance?”

  “I had not thought of that.”

  “No, I didn’t suppose you had.” He had no more patience for dealing with Auberan. “Go back to the hall and Isabelle, and do try to be more of a warrior and less of an invalid.”

  Auberan bowed and obeyed, leaving Oswald in the chapel to contemplate not his sins or the grace of God, but the destruction of Richard and his own rise to power.

  Connor had nearly forgotten how good it felt to have the wind in his hair and the freedom of cantering on Demetrius across an open meadow. The day was not as fair as yesterday, with low gray clouds promising rain later, but he didn’t want to make Demetrius wait another day.

  He had been selfish enough already. Not that he was feeling particularly guilty. He had been too happy being in the forest with Allis, holding her in his arms and kissing her sweet lips.

  On the other hand, both he and Demetrius needed the exercise. In his case, sleep was long in coming these days as he envisioned a future with Allis to love and cherish. And other things, too—especially Allis in their bed, naked and waiting.

  She was everything he could want in a lover, responding with fierce enthusiasm and exciting him beyond anything he had ever felt. Glorious, wonderful Allis, so serene and wise and dutiful, those qualities masking a passionate nature that perhaps he alone fully knew and appreciated.

  Yet she was so much more! Wise, patient, loyal, tender, she would not make merely a wonderful wife. She would be a wonderful mother, too. Indeed, in many ways, she already was, for she was as much a mother to her brother and sister as she was their sibling.

  At last he slowed and turned back toward Montclair. Perhaps when he got back, he would see Allis and have another chance to speak with her. Perhaps he would have another chance to be alone with her. Yesterday, as soon as they had arrived back at Montclair, she had been summoned by the cook over a question of the meats for the evening meal, and had to leave without much of a farewell.

  He glanced at the sky, noting that the clouds were thickening. A storm was definitely brewing.

  Then, suddenly, at the edge of the forest, he sp
ied Allis mounted on her horse. She wore a cloak of rich green wool, the silk-lined hood pulled up over her head, yet not so fully that he couldn’t see her face. Beneath the cloak, the black skirt of her gown peeked out.

  She was like a dream, the embodiment of hope and happiness.

  As he spurred Demetrius into a trot and rode toward her, he saw Bob and Harry. They were behind her, mounted on the sort of horses common soldiers were generally assigned.

  “Good morning, my lady,” he called out as a low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. “Not the best day for riding, perhaps,” he noted as he reached them.

  “I wanted to nonetheless. I am merely going to the river and back again. Would you care to join me?” Her eyes sparkled with mischievous delight.

  “I would be delighted.” He turned Demetrius, so that their horses were side by side. They began to walk toward the river, Bob and Harry dutifully following behind. “You have an escort with you, I see.”

  “Of course. A lady does not ride out alone. A lady generally does not go up on the wall walk and search the ward for a guest, either, but if she does, and she sees her guest going out riding all by himself, she may decide it is her duty as hostess to join him.”

  “Her guest is very grateful for her company.” He could almost feel the gaze of Bob and Harry on his back. “Will Edmond be coming for another lesson today?”

  “Unless it rains.”

  “We may get caught in a storm.”

  “Does that thought trouble you?”

  “Not at all.”

  “I understand it rains even more in Wales than it does here.”

  He laughed. “Aye, there is that. I hated such weather in my childhood, when it meant being confined indoors. I only came to love the rain after my years in the East. There I learned never to take water for granted again. Since then, I have thought every shower a blessing, every downpour a cause for jubilation. I love the sound of raindrops on leaves, the scent of the rain-wet earth, the feel of the water on my skin like a lover’s caress.”

  He glanced at her blushing face, then, mindful of the men behind, continued without any hint of any hidden meaning, “I think I love a good thunderstorm the best of all—the rough roar of thunder and the flash of lightning. It’s alive and fierce and wild all at once, like the gods at war.”