Connie Mason

by The Black Knight

  “I refuse to believe you care so little for me.”

  “I could say the same about you,” he tossed back as he yanked on his hose with more force than was necessary.

  “Nay! How can I explain when you refuse to listen?”

  “ ’Tis too late for us, Raven. The truth no longer matters. The king demands that I wed Lady Willa and I must obey.”

  Raven acknowledged Drake’s words with a broken sigh. “I will leave before the wedding.”

  Drake wanted to ask where she would go but refrained from doing so. Raven was no longer his to protect. “Ask Balder for money to see you through your journey. When you decide upon your destination, an escort will be provided for you.”

  He strode to the door, his hand poised on the knob. Was this it, then? he wondered. A loving so fierce he would remember it the rest of his days, then this cold leavetaking? He glanced over his shoulder at Raven. She had pulled a sheet over her nakedness and was staring at him as if she expected more from him. Silent tears coursed down her cheeks, and her full, pink lips were trembling.

  “God’s blood!” Drake cried, striding back to the bed. “What do you want from me, lady? I am sworn to obey my king. I know I dishonored you, Raven, but afterward I swore to protect you with my life. I made myself vulnerable for you. Do you know what your note did to me? It nearly destroyed me. Though she does not appeal to me, I must marry Lady Willa. But after the bedding, I intend to leave Windhurst and seek my pleasure elsewhere. No one will ever engage my heart again.”

  Having said more than he’d meant to say, Drake stormed from the chamber, and ran headlong into Lady Willa.

  “Lord Drake!” Her eyes widened in fear when she saw his fierce expression, and she backed away from him. “I . . . I thought this was the ladies’ solar. I did not expect to find you here.” She gazed pointedly at the door from which Drake had just exited. “Is that not Lady Raven’s chamber?”

  Drake was in no mood for bantering. “So it is, my lady.”

  “When is Lady Raven leaving Windhurst?”

  His mood was growing darker by the minute. “When it pleases her.”

  “Forgive me, my lord, I did not mean to anger you.”

  “Nay, forgive me, my lady. I fear I have distressed you.”

  She gave him a wobbly smile. “You are forgiven, my lord.” She covered her mouth and tittered nervously. The sound grated on Drake’s nerves.

  “I look forward to the banquet tonight. Mayhap we can get to know one another better,” she added.

  Drake inclined his head and offered his arm. “May I escort you to the hall?”

  “Nay, I was looking for the . . . the . . .” Her face turned a bright shade of red.

  Drake was saved from directing her to the garderobe when her maid came puffing down the hall. “I have found it, my lady. Follow me.”

  “Until tonight.” Willa simpered as she curtsied and hurried after the maid.

  “God save me from simpering innocents,” Drake muttered beneath his breath. Whatever had the king been thinking? Any fool could see he and Willa would not suit. He hurried away in search of Balder. Tonight’s banquet must be perfect. He wanted the king in a good mood.

  Raven would have preferred to eat in her chamber tonight but decided that hiding away was cowardly. Donning her best silk gown, undertunic, and a new headdress she had recently purchased from a peddler, she gathered her courage and went down to the hall. Everyone was already seated when she arrived, and she slid into an empty place as far away from the high table as she could get.

  Margot and her kitchen helpers had outdone themselves, Raven thought as dish after sumptuous dish was served. In honor of the king, the table gleamed with silver: knives, spoons, salt dishes, and cups. Each place was set with a thick trencher of day-old bread, which served as a plate for roasted meats.

  Servants circulated about the hall, carrying trays of bread and other delicacies. Then the best wine Drake had to offer was decanted into ewers and poured into each guest’s silver cup.

  The soup course was served; then came jellied eels, boar’s head, venison, peacocks, suckling pigs, and a variety of birds. The vegetables consisted of peas and green beans. The meal concluded with fruit tarts, nuts, and cheese.

  Raven barely touched her food. Her appetite had fled the moment she saw Lady Willa leaning toward Drake to whisper into his ear. Lowering her eyes to her trencher, she felt her stomach heave. Pretending indifference toward the man she loved was the most difficult thing she had ever done.

  Drake had seen Raven enter the hall and had lost his train of thought. Some might think Lady Willa more classically beautiful, but Drake found her pale and lifeless compared to Raven’s vibrant beauty and spirit. He stared across the room at Raven, suddenly puzzled by something about her he had noticed of late: a special inner glow. He regarded her with an intensity that soon drew the king’s disfavor. He returned his gaze to his trencher, thinking that Raven belonged at the high table, beside him. He wanted to escort her to his side but knew that flaunting his leman before his bride-to-be would anger the king.

  Drake returned his attention to the food on his trencher. Everything was delicious, but he had little appetite. He glanced at Edward and was pleased to note that he appeared to be enjoying the repast. Beside him, Willa picked at her food with ladylike delicacy.

  “Is the food not to your liking, Lady Willa?” Drake asked.

  Willa dropped her knife and blinked up at him, her eyes clouded with fear. “Did I frighten you, my lady?” Drake asked, surprised by her response to his simple question.

  Willa dropped her gaze to her lap. “Forgive me, my lord. I was raised in a convent and male voices sometimes startle me.”

  Drake groaned. Convent raised. The first time Willa saw him naked she would probably swoon. “Why were you raised in a convent, my lady?”

  “I am a great heiress, my lord. I became a ward of the king when my parents died of fever. I was seven years old when Edward placed me with the nuns to protect my fortune from those who would wed me to possess it.”

  “Have the nuns instructed you in your wifely duties?” Drake asked.

  Her eyes remained respectfully downcast. “I know what I must do, my lord. I . . .” She shuddered and dared a glance at him from beneath long, feathery lashes. “I pray you will not be too demanding. Once a child is conceived it would be sinful to continue . . . relations, until another child is desired,” she said primly.

  Aghast, Drake stared at her. This was impossible. “Feeling as you do, you should have no complaints if I take a mistress,” he said, testing the waters.

  Willa’s eyes widened as they rose to search his face. “ ’Tis against God’s laws. You would be committing adultery. I will not have it, my lord.” She sounded like a spoiled child, demanding that their marriage be conducted according to her rules.

  “What will you have me do, my lady? You just said I would be welcome in your bed only when we wish to conceive a child. I fear you are misinformed about a man’s needs. You are young, my lady. The king was wrong to bring you here. We will not suit.”

  Drake turned back to his food, blatantly ignoring Willa’s gasp of dismay. He had no idea that King Edward, who sat on his right, was watching the interchange.

  Edward leaned toward Drake and whispered, “Does Lady Willa displease you?”

  “Lady Willa is far too young and innocent for me,” Drake said, choosing his words carefully. “We will not suit.”

  “Nonsense,” the king blustered. “She is just what you need to settle you down. Granted, she is young, but most men relish the chance to mold an innocent girl’s passion to suit their needs.” He leaned closer. “Lady Willa is immensely rich as well as beautiful. She brings several estates with the marriage.”

  Wealth did not interest him. “Is there naught I can do to change your mind, sire?”

  Edward frowned, his gaze roaming the hall, finally settling on Raven. “ ’Tis Lady Raven, is it not? She is the reason you are unwilli
ng to take a wife. We must talk privately, Drake. I am anxious to learn how the lady came to be your leman. I know Waldo of Eyre. He would not let his wife go without a fight.”

  “Aye, we do need to talk,” Drake agreed. “Mayhap we should postpone the betrothal and wedding.”

  “Nay. Father Bernard is prepared to conduct the betrothal ceremony after the entertainment you have planned for me. There will be entertainment, will there not?”

  “Aye,” Drake said sourly. He was at his wit’s end. He did not want Lady Willa. The marriage would make them both miserable. “Balder has summoned entertainers from the village. There is even a jongleur among them skilled in storytelling.”

  Edward’s eyes lit up. “Ah, I do love a good story. As to the marriage, I predict it will be good for both of you.”

  Drake thought otherwise but remained silent. Angering the king was not a good idea. He signaled to Balder and immediately a troop of acrobats tumbled into the hall. Drake sat stoically through the performance, remaining unamused even when the jester came afterward with his comical antics. Then the jongleur regaled the guests with tales of Drake’s courage. The jongleur was still singing Drake’s praises when a guard rushed into the hall.

  He proceeded directly to the high table and bowed before the king. Then he turned to Drake. “Sir John and an unidentified rider approach the barbican, my lord.”

  “Raise the portcullis,” Drake ordered. “Bid Sir John come to the hall. I am most anxious to see him.”

  “Has Sir John been gone long, Drake?” Edward asked.

  “Aye. I expected him back long before this and feared something had happened to him. My mind is greatly relieved to see him arrived back safe and sound.”

  The jongleur finished his song, bowed to the king, and left the hall scant seconds before Sir John, accompanied by a frail old man dressed in brown robes, arrived.

  “Sir John,” Drake said in greeting. “Bring your guest forward. ’Tis good to see you, friend. Greet your king, then tell me who you have brought with you.”

  Sir John executed a courtly bow. “Your Majesty, ’tis good to see you again. I was surprised to see your banner hanging from the parapet. What brings you to Windhurst?”

  “ ’Tis good to see you, too, Sir John. You and Drake are two of my staunchest supporters. I will never forget how bravely you defended England. My visit here is not without purpose. I bring Lord Drake a bride. Greet Lady Willa.”

  John looked at Drake askance, then directed his gaze to the lovely young girl sitting beside Drake. If he wondered what had happened to Raven, he kept it to himself. “Well met,” he said, making a sweeping bow in Lady Willa’s direction.

  “Who is your guest?” Drake asked.

  “Someone you will be most happy to meet,” John said. “Drake of Windhurst, this is Father Ambrose, the priest who married your mother and father.”

  Drake leaped to his feet, clutching the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. “Father Ambrose! Tell me true. Did you marry Sir Basil and Leta ap Howell?”

  The white-haired priest stepped forward and paid his respects to his king. Then he turned his myopic gaze on Drake. “Aye, my lord, ’tis true. Your mother and father were legally married in the Welsh village of Builth Wells. The village lies near the border and not far from Castle Chirk. I entered the marriage in the parish records myself.”

  The king leaned forward. “Why did you not step forward before now with this information?”

  “Shortly after I performed the ceremony, the church was destroyed by fire. I fled for my life when friends told me Lord Basil’s father wanted no living witness to his son’s marriage to a Welsh commoner. He succeeded in burning down the church, but I saved the record book. I carried it with me when I fled the burning church.”

  “Father Ambrose has brought the pages from the book with their names inscribed, sire,” Sir John said.

  The king rubbed his smooth-shaven chin, apparently pondering everything he had just heard. “Continue with your story, Father Ambrose. Where have you been these many years?”

  “I fled to north Wales, Your Majesty. I found a village in need of a priest and settled down to serve my new flock.”

  “Where did you find the good father, Sir John?” the king asked.

  “Lord Drake dispatched me to Builth Wells to deliver a message to his grandmother. When I arrived, she informed me that she had finally located Father Ambrose, the man who could verify Drake’s legitimate birth. He had just recently returned to a monastery near Builth Wells to live out his remaining years. The village priest informed Drake’s grandmother of Father Ambrose’s whereabouts. Nola has been searching for the priest for many years, in hopes of proving Drake’s legitimacy.”

  “ ’Tis true,” Father Ambrose confirmed. “I had no idea Nola was looking for me or I would have returned and shown her the proof she required. Unfortunately, I knew naught about a controversy concerning a child whose birth occurred after I fled. But I am here now to proclaim before God and my king that Drake of Windhurst is not a bastard. If Basil of Eyre married another woman without dissolving his marriage to Leta ap Howell, then any progeny of that marriage is illegitimate.”

  “This changes a great many things,” Edward declared. “I have much to think about. And of course I will want to examine the records before I declare Lord Drake the true Earl of Eyre and Waldo the bastard. Until this is settled to my satisfaction, the betrothal must be postponed.”

  A smile curved Drake’s lips as his gaze searched the hall for Raven. He found her amid a sea of faces. Their gazes met and clung. Then she rose somewhat unsteadily and fled.

  Seventeen

  A knight realizes that with love anything is possible.

  Drake frowned. He wanted to rush after Raven, but the king placed a hand on his shoulder, reminding him that there were important matters pertaining to his new status to discuss.

  Edward’s hand tightened. “You can go to her later.” He unrolled the page removed from the church record book and perused it briefly. “Sit with me before the hearth, where we can speak privately.”

  “Aye, sire,” Drake said, following Edward to the far end of the hall.

  Balder appeared with a flagon of ale and two cups. He set them on a small table near Drake’s elbow. Drake waved him away and poured wine into the cups himself. He handed one to the king and cradled the other between his palms. He stared absently into the dancing flames while the king studied the page from the church records.

  After a moment of introspection, Edward said, “It appears a grave injustice has been done to you, Lord Drake. I knew the old Earl of Eyre, Basil’s father. He was a proud man, albeit a conniving one. Apparently he was prepared to go to any lengths to see his son married to a woman equal to him in rank and lineage.”

  “I never doubted the legality of my mother’s marriage to my father,” Drake said. “My grandmother told me to bide my time, that proof would turn up one day, and she was right.”

  Edward handed the parchment to Drake. Drake perused it carefully. “It appears legitimate.”

  “Aye. I would have believed it had there been naught to back up the priest’s claim. Priests do not lie.” He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, as if considering the steps he must take to right the wrong that had been done to Drake.

  “From this day forward you are to be known as Lord Drake, Earl of Eyre and Windhurst. All the lands and wealth contained in both estates are yours to claim,” Edward proclaimed.

  “What of Waldo, sire?” Drake asked.

  “He deserves naught, but because he fought bravely at Crécy, he will not be punished. Let it be known that henceforth he will be simply Sir Waldo, and that you are his liege lord. As his overlord, you can require him to swear fealty to you.”

  After years of being called a bastard, Drake found his new circumstances overwhelming. However, the thought of what Waldo would do when he found out brought him quickly back to reality.

  “Waldo will not willingly
accept your decision,” Drake warned.

  Edward smiled complacently. “I know Waldo is a difficult man to deal with, but I am his king and he must obey me.”

  Drake did not agree with the king’s assessment of Waldo’s reaction but refrained from voicing his opinion.

  “Now that your new status as Basil’s heir is established,” Edward continued, “let us speak of your marriage to Lady Willa. Your combined estates will make you one of the wealthiest men in all of England.”

  Drake cleared his throat. “About Lady Willa, sire. She fears me. ’Tis in her eyes every time she looks at me. I beg you to reconsider. Find the lady a husband more to her liking.”

  Edward’s scowl deepened. “Mayhap ’tis time we spoke of Lady Raven. She is the reason you do not wish to marry Lady Willa, is she not? How did Waldo’s wife come to be your leman?”

  Drake sighed. There was no help for it; he had to tell the truth. One did not lie to one’s king. “Your good opinion of me will likely change when you learn what I did.”

  “Let me be the judge of that. Pray continue, Lord Drake.”

  “Very well, sire. Several months ago I entered a tourney at Chirk. At the time I did not know the tourney was held to celebrate the marriage between Raven of Chirk and Waldo. I fostered at Chirk and left when I was a lad of seventeen. If you recall, you were good enough to accept me into your service and offer me a chance to fight with you and the Black Prince in France.”

  Edward eyed Drake fondly. “I remember well. You saved the Black Prince’s life, not once but twice, and I dubbed you on the battlefield. Later I made you an earl and gave you Windhurst. You have not disappointed me. Windhurst is everything I dreamed it would be in the hands of the right man. Finish your story, Lord Drake.”

  “Aye. The tourney was a success. I was declared champion and won the purse. Raven recognized me as the lad she knew from her youth and sought me out. She asked me to help her escape a marriage she found repugnant. She wanted to flee to Scotland. I refused, of course.”