by Aston, Alexa
She didn’t care what her stepfather thought. She let herself be tugged through the inner bailey and into the keep. They reached their shared chamber, where a steaming bath awaited her. Avelyn rushed her from her clothes and into the water and began scrubbing her from head to toe.
Elysande sat back and let her sister take charge. Her thoughts turned to her uncle’s knight. Michael’s laugh had been deep and masculine. Not a thing like Hendry’s. Her betrothed’s was high and squeaky, as was his voice. Again, she bemoaned the fact that her father had contracted her to a man she already knew she would never respect.
The betrothal had surprised her, for he hadn’t asked her opinion regarding it—which was so unlike him. He had treated both his daughters well, allowing them to pursue their passions. Hers had been languages and horses. She could write in Latin and spoke French, though she had a hard time with the difficult spelling of the musical language. Her father had never admonished her for dressing comfortably while she worked with the horses. In fact, he’d encouraged her interest in them. She owed most of her knowledge to his teachings since he loved the beasts as much as she did. They’d spent many pleasurable hours in one another’s company in the stables or pastures or out riding the land.
Elysande’s thoughts floated back to Michael. His image loomed large as she closed her eyes. That unusual tingling occurred again. She longed to touch her hand to his cheek, where a tiny, white scar had stood out against his olive skin. She wanted to do nothing more than kiss the man—a stranger!
Where did these bizarre feelings come from?
She barely knew him though they’d spent hours together in close proximity. She could recall his scent, a mixture of leather and horse and something achingly male. Elysande shuddered.
“Has the water chilled already?”
Avelyn’s words interrupted her pleasant recollection.
“Nay, ’tis nothing.”
Her sister held a bath sheet out. “Come. Stand. Let me dry you.” She clicked her tongue in displeasure. “We’ll never get your hair dry in time. I’ll simply rebraid it. And Mother already set out a new cotehardie for you. She wants you to look your best when you meet Uncle Geoffrey and his family.”
Elysande allowed Avelyn to dress her and redo her hair. She decided not to let her thoughts linger on Michael. It would be foolish to fixate upon another man when she would be married in less than a week’s time.
“You look lovely.” Avelyn kissed her cheek. Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Oh, Elysande, I’m going to miss you so much.”
“Then you must come visit me in the north. Mayhap, my new husband’s family will know of an appropriate match with a nearby nobleman. It would be more tolerable living far away in the north—if you could be close to me.”
She smoothed the pale cream cotehardie, admiring the rich color of the emerald green embroidery. It was one of several that had been sewn for her in the last month in preparation for her wedding and the trip to her new home. Elysande decided to do more than hint to Hendry about finding a husband for Avelyn. If left up to Lord Holger, who knew what bridegroom her stepfather might select for her sister? She’d rather have a hand in helping to choose Avelyn’s husband. Mayhap Hendry had some unattached, nearby cousin that would suit if not brothers of his own that might be persuaded to marry her sister.
They left the bedchamber and made their way down to the great hall. Trestle tables had already been set out for the evening meal. Many of the people of Hopeston gathered near them in conversation after a long day’s work.
“Elysande!”
She heard her mother’s voice call to her. She spied her mother standing with her stepfather and another couple. Elysande assumed the two would be her uncle and aunt-by-marriage. She hurried toward them, Avelyn not far behind her.
Her mother gave her what she and Avelyn called The Look. Mary used it only when severely displeased with either of them. Then it vanished as quickly as it came. Elysande knew she had a brief reprieve from the tongue-lashing that would occur behind closed doors, thanks to her absence for most of the day. She put on a smile and greeted their guests.
“Uncle Geoffrey. Aunt Merryn.” Elysande gave each of them a kiss. “I’m happy that you could attend my wedding. Mother couldn’t wait for your arrival.” She paused. “I must apologize for not being present to meet you when you arrived. My horse, Morningstar, began to foal early this morning and I’ve been with her all day.” She grinned. “I’m happy to report that a new male foal now rests with his mother in the stable.”
Geoffrey laughed. “You definitely have de Montfort blood in you, Elysande. We do love our horses.”
Elysande looked to her mother in surprise. “Truly?”
Mary shrugged. “I spent my fair share of time with Eloisa and the horses growing up. After I married, running a household became more of a priority.” She looked to her husband, who gave a curt nod.
Merryn linked an arm through Elysande’s. “We’re so pleased to be at Hopeston. Come, I want you to meet our children, your cousins. We have twins and then a younger one.”
Her aunt led her across the room. Elysande saw a boy and girl chasing after a small child that ran around with a gleeful look on his face as he skillfully avoided them.
“Oh, my!” she exclaimed. “They’re miniature versions of you and Uncle Geoffrey.”
Merryn laughed. “We hear that all the time. Children! Come meet your cousin.”
The twins corralled their brother and came to greet them. The boy was tall and sturdy, while the girl was dainty and graceful. Elysande thought Geoffrey and Merryn must have looked much as these two did when they were the same age.
“Elysande, may I present my son, Ancel, who fosters with the Earl of Winterbourne, and my daughter, Alys, who attends Queen Philippa at the royal court. And for now, they have little Hal in their grasps. Hal might escape at any moment.”
The twins greeted her with enthusiasm, asking all sorts of questions. She found them delightful children, while the little one kept Elysande laughing with his antics.
Without warning, she longed for children as bright and lively as these three. Ones that would look like Michael and her as they matured. Her face grew warm at the thought.
Why was she so taken by a man who was practically a stranger?
Elysande noticed people began seating themselves and suggested they head to the dais for the meal. Alys took her hand and had them skipping along as she chattered away.
They reached their seats and the service began. While she ate, Elysande’s eyes searched the great hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of Michael. She spotted a table full of knights unfamiliar to her and assumed these were her uncle’s men. Then she knew Michael was there because her heart began to beat erratically.
His back was to her, but she would know those broad shoulders and dark hair anywhere. She found it difficult to swallow another bite because of the fluttering in her stomach.
“This venison is so tender,” Merryn said, drawing Elysande back to the guests that surrounded her.
She was determined to concentrate on the meal and her new kin. Elysande thought she did a decent job of both.
Even if her eyes wandered upon occasion to the table of knights on the far left of the great hall.
*
“Slow down, Michael. You want to leave enough for the rest of us,” Hammond teased.
Michael shrugged. “I missed the noon meal, my friend. I must make up for lost time and food. Or so my stomach tells me.” He tore off a hunk of bread and popped it into his mouth.
“Where were you? I didn’t see you after we left the stables. You missed some delicious rosemary bread and cold ale, as well as a sumptuous meal.”
“I was needed in the stables.” Michael stabbed another bite of the venison with his dirk and chewed away.
“Was there a problem with one of the horses?” Hammond asked. “I know how carefully you inspect each one after being on the road.”
He swallowed. “Nay. Not a pro
blem. I did make sure all the shoes still fit firmly and that each horse had its fill of oats. But a . . . situation came up.”
Hammond laughed. “’Tis one involving a pretty maid by the dreamy look on your face.”
Michael froze. Did his face truly reveal the longings he had for the unnamed woman?
He’d looked around for her as he’d entered the great hall, assuming she must be one of the serving wenches. Lady Avelyn had strongly rebuked her for missing much of the day inside the keep, especially since guests had arrived at Hopeston. He supposed she’d been derelict in her cleaning or kitchen duties while she’d spent the daylight hours with the foaling dam.
But he hadn’t spotted her, and now the meal drew to a close. Poor thing. She was probably being punished by doing the lowest menial task in the kitchen and would have to eat later.
It did cause him to wonder, though. With Morningstar so close to giving birth, why hadn’t her father—or one of the other grooms—been available to help her? Or even come with a watchful eye as the horse gave birth?
Michael determined to find her once the meal was cleared away. He had yet to learn her name.
And he wanted to learn even more than that. He longed to wrap the woman in his arms. Drown in her scent. Kiss her senseless. Drive his shaft into her and make her his.
He turned to his companion. While he shared most things with his closest friend, he was not ready to go so far as to tell Hammond he was ready to commit to a woman in holy wedlock. He feared his friend would try to talk him out of such a rash decision.
Michael realized that marrying a lowly servant girl would be frowned upon for the future Earl of Sandbourne. Yet no one, save for Lord Geoffrey, knew he was to inherit the lofty title one day. He’d gained his knighthood under Sir Lovel, but when he came to Kinwick, Michael decided not to share what his future held with those he encountered. He was a stranger to all but his liege lord. The knights in service to Lord Geoffrey hadn’t a clue they toiled beside a future earl. He’d asked Lord Geoffrey to keep his secret and knew no one had learned of it.
Frankly, he didn’t care if the woman was highborn or low. Desire for her filled him like never before. When they eventually returned to Sandbourne, no one need even know her father had worked in the stables and she herself served those at Hopeston Castle. As earl, he could marry any woman he pleased. His father hadn’t betrothed him to anyone before he left Sandbourne at the tender age of eight. He would marry this woman and bring the bride of his choosing to his home.
Once his father was gone for good.
Michael turned to Hammond. “As a matter of fact, the situation did involve a woman.” He smiled. “A very pretty one, at that.”
Hammond slammed a fist upon the table. “I knew it. You have all the luck with the fairer sex, my friend.”
He sighed. “Actually, she put me to work for the entire day. A dam was ready to deliver, and she required my assistance. We spent the entire day with the horse, watching her foal.” He smiled. “’Twas quite interesting since I’d never witnessed it before. Almost like a miracle.”
Hammond nodded. “I’ve watched a horse give birth before. I found it hard to believe that so soon after, the foal could stand on its own.”
Michael rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “This one took a few times to gain his balance, but once on his feet? He was sturdy and true.” He leaned in. “She invited me to return to the stables tonight after we supped, so we could check on the mother and foal together.”
His friend’s eyebrows shot up. “Hmm. I wonder what else you might investigate while together.”
“I plan to go hunt for her now and find out.”
As he came to his feet, he found Lord Geoffrey approaching him.
“Is all well, Michael?” he asked. “I missed seeing you after our arrival.”
“No problems, my lord. I gave a hand in the Hopeston stables, is all. I assisted with a dam that foaled a fine little horse.”
Geoffrey’s eyes gleamed. “Did you?” He chuckled. “You’ve come a long way from your early days with Sir Lovel, my friend. I remember when you weren’t overly fond of horses.”
Michael shrugged. “Things change, my lord. I’m glad I grew up and have become the man I am and not that pudgy lad who was slow at everything a page was required to do.”
The nobleman laid a hand on his shoulder. “You are the best of men, Michael. I’m pleased that you’re in my service.” His hand squeezed Michael’s shoulder in affection. “But come with me. I would have you meet my sister Mary and my nieces.” A shadow crossed his face. “And our host.”
They crossed the great hall as groups of people returned the trestle tables to the sides of the large room. As they drew near, Michael saw Lady Avelyn in conversation with Lady Merryn and an older woman he supposed was Geoffrey’s sister.
“Ladies, I would like you to meet one of my finest knights. Sir Michael Devereux, my sister, Lady Mary, and one of my two nieces, Lady Avelyn.”
Michael bowed. “’Tis a pleasure to accompany Lord Geoffrey and Lady Merryn to Hopeston, Lady Mary.” He looked to the younger woman. “And a pleasure to see you again, my lady.”
“We met earlier. In the stables,” Avelyn explained to the others. “Thank you for your help with Morningstar. Elysande loves that horse as much as she does her own flesh and blood.”
Elysande.
At least he had a name for his future wife. And he liked it. Quite a bit. He couldn’t wait to address her by name and hear it flow from his tongue.
Just then, Hal came running up to him, being chased by Alys and a woman behind her.
“Michael! Michael!”
He scooped the boy into his arms. “How’s my little man?” he asked, tickling Hal under the chin. The boy giggled and squirmed.
Then he sensed eyes upon him. Michael looked up.
Elysande stood a few feet in front of him. His mouth went dry as he gazed upon her.
But his mind tried to understand what he saw.
She wore a cotehardie of palest cream, embroidered with a rich emerald green. A delicate gold cross hung about her neck, emphasizing its slenderness. She reminded him of a graceful swan.
This was no servant. This beauty, out of her boyish pants and faded tunic, was all woman—and one highborn.
Michael realized, in that moment, that Elysande was Geoffrey’s other niece. The thought pleased him tremendously. He believed Geoffrey would offer whatever support he might need in winning Elysande’s hand.
“Ah, Sir Michael, here is my errant daughter, who neglected to greet her family and guests,” Lady Mary said.
Elysande’s sunny smile lit up the room. At the same time, it pushed everyone but her from his vision. Michael’s heart pounded so quickly, he felt as if he’d run a thousand steps in an instant.
“I’m afraid I didn’t properly thank you for your help today, Sir Michael.” Elysande turned to her mother. “This gallant knight helped me with Morningstar and her new foal,” she shared, “though he merely introduced himself to me as Michael.”
Lady Mary nodded graciously to him. “Thank you, good sir. I’m glad my daughter had your help. She usually is quite headstrong and refuses for anyone to aid her in these matters.” She looked back to her daughter. “At least Morningstar gave birth before your wedding, my dear. Now you won’t have to worry about her being left behind when you and Hendry travel north next week.”
Michael felt as if he’d been stabbed in the gut. His eyes cut to Avelyn and back to Elysande. It wasn’t Lady Avelyn who was to wed later this week.
’Twas Lady Elysande.
Chapter Five
Elysande heard her mother’s words. They brought her crashing back to a painful reality.
She had watched her uncle when he went to address his knights as she and Alys playfully chased Hal about. When he led Michael over to meet her family, she gazed at him from afar. He was everything she would want in a man. Intelligent. Kind. Interesting.
And simply looking at hi
m made her go weak in the knees. She stood on shaky legs, just as Morningstar’s new foal.
God in Heaven, she wanted this man—and no other. Especially not Hendry.
Her small cousin took off in a blur. Both she and Alys gave chase. Hal ran toward Michael, calling his name, his chubby arms outstretched. She watched as the knight broke into a wide grin and lifted the babe high in his arms. Michael looked so happy, so right, with the child nestled close to him. As if were born to be a father.
Then their eyes had met, and Elysande drew in a quick breath. She could have spent an eternity gazing at his chiseled face. She’d never pictured the Archangel Michael as dark, but this man appeared to have fallen to earth from the heavens high above. She drank him in, a smile immediately forming on her lips.
Her mother ruined any fantasy she had begun to spin in her mind by bringing up her approaching wedding to Hendry.
Elysande watched the stunned look cross Michael’s face before it quickly disappeared. If she hadn’t been studying him so closely, she would have missed it. In an instant, she realized that he’d believed Avelyn was the bride-to-be.
And had thought her free.
A thrill rushed through her. Deep within her, Elysande knew this knight was as drawn to her as she was to him.
But nothing could come of their attraction. A betrothal was as good as a marriage. In the sight of God Almighty, she was already a wife to Hendry.
Yet her heart cried out for justice. To meet the man she longed to spend the rest of her life with only days before she wed another? It was a cruel trick on Fate’s part.
Elysande threw caution to the wind. “Sir Michael, do you remember that you promised you would return to the stables with me after we dined to check on Morningstar and her foal?”
He nodded stiffly. “I did tell you so, my lady.”
“Would you care to accompany me now? I’ve been thinking of names for the foal. Mayhap you can help me decide upon one.”
