Believing Your Eyes - A Medieval Romance (The Sword of Glastonbury Series Book 3)

by Lisa Shea

  Stephen stood staring at the fabric for long moments, and with each beat of her heart Lucia’s blood pounded in rising nervous panic. Had she disgraced him before the great hall? Was he ashamed of what she had created?

  Stephen finally brought his eyes up and spoke to her, his voice pitched to reach the farthest ends of the hall. “This is the most wonderful thing I have ever received,” he announced with a hoarse voice. His eyes glistened with feeling. “Thank you,” he added in a softer timbre, his eyes shining with the true depth of his emotions. He then gave the fabric a shake to extend it, then turned with it, displaying it to the room.

  The hall erupted into cheering and joy. Lucia took a long drink of wine to cover her blushing cheeks, deliberately keeping her eyes from returning to meet Stephen’s.

  Only a few more hours. She had to keep their connection hidden until they left the keep’s walls. She would do everything in her power to achieve that goal.

  She turned to Lord Edmund, offering him a toast and a smile. He nodded, then gave a wave of his hand. The hall burst into music as the minstrels launched into a lively tune. He stood, then, offering a formal bow to Lucia. “The first dance of the night is always my choice. I would like to have the honor of your hand as my partner. Do you accept?”

  Lucia put her hand in his. “With great delight! However, I give your fair notice - I have asked the minstrels to play some of my favorite selections, depending on who my partner was.”

  “I trust your judgment implicitly, my dear. Lead on!”

  The two walked around onto the central floor, and cheers erupted from all sides. As they settled into place, the minstrels segued into a more sedate formal dance. Lord Edmund grinned with delight as the strains from his youth filled the hall. In a moment other couples had formed lines on either side of them and the group moved back and forth in time. The dance was simple and elegant, and there was rich applause when the music ended.

  Anna welcomed Lucia with a warm smile when she returned to the table. “What a wonderful choice! You dance so beautifully. You have never told me you could dance!”

  “We did have some training other than military, after all, at our home,” Lucia grinned back at her. Before she could take her seat, Ian, on her other side, wrapped his arm around her waist in a strong embrace.

  Lucia turned quickly to see his smiling, flushed face, his eyes eagerly hinting at the dance floor. Lucia nodded and followed him up. Better to go with him now, she thought wryly, than later when he’d had even more to drink.

  Lucia shook her head ruefully as the musicians nodded to each other to count out the starting beats. She had requested a fun, fast modern song for her dance with Ian. It was a tune replete with fancy footwork, which she felt he would enjoy showing off. When she had made her list for the evening, she had not accounted for Ian’s level of drunkenness!

  The minstrels launched into the song, and they were off. Ian did fairly well keeping up with the steps, grinning as Lucia cavorted around him. The floor filled with happy, prancing pairs as the music spun faster and faster, the floor growing crowded with the mob. The song spun on and on, the melody cycling around, pushing the dancers to the very limits of their energy. Finally the musicians brought a triumphant close, and a great cheer went up, with toasts and laughter filling the room.

  The couples staggered and collapsed back onto their benches, and the hall became a chorus of calls for ale, mead, and wine.

  Lucia helped Ian stumble toward the head table. She chuckled as Ian fell into his chair; he reached out immediately for his tankard. “Drink up!” he called to her. “This is a celebration!”

  She shook her head and smiled down at him. It was a wonder the man could stand at all, given the volume he had imbibed.

  There was a movement at her shoulder, and she was enveloped by musk and juniper, by a sense of home and comfort.

  “You two made quite a pair,” commented Stephen in a low voice, his breath whispering along her neck in a caress. “Yet somehow I feel the dance was not quite your style, Lucia.” There was a pause, and then his voice became hoarse. “Perhaps you would give me a try?”

  Lucia looked up at him and her world staggered to a halt. Stephen’s eyes were dark with longing, with barely reined passion. Lucia could scarcely breathe; her heart hammered in her chest. A thin shred of sanity fought against a nearly overwhelming urge to wrap herself in his arms, to lose herself in his embrace.

  She could not. She would not disrespect Anna.

  She slipped her hand on his arm, her fingers sensing every curve in his muscular build, as he led her out onto the floor. The crowd hushed as she took her place before him, caught in his gaze, waiting for the music.

  It seemed that the throngs around them vanished from sight. They were immersed in their own world, separate from all else. Stephen’s eyes were full on her, his face steady with love. Her heart glowed to bursting. He was perfectly matched to her. He was everything she needed, she wanted, she longed for with every ounce of her body.

  Stephen’s eyes sparkled when the music began. It was clear he realized what dance Lucia had chosen for them. It was an ancient melody, one from before time began, a song celebrating love, devotion, and loyalty. For most in the room it would seem simply an old folk tune, wordless, with its meaning lost in the mists of time. But for her, and for Stephen, the dance resonated with a tapestry of emotion.

  He took her hands and began the slow movements. Lucia matched his smile as she whirled around him, gently caressing him with the soft fabric of her cobalt dress, almost touching his face on each pass. She could feel the audience becoming part of the tension, the gentle teasing and playing the dance portrayed. As a young girl she had practiced this dance with her brother, but never really understood its significance. Now every motion was clear as Stephen’s footsteps paralleled hers in large and small circles around the floor.

  She trusted him implicitly; his hand was there, sure, when she leaned away from him; his arm caught hers as she went past. She knew the final pass was coming - where she would spin and fall past him; he would catch her and hold her close, leaning over her. It had been a while since she had done this - what if she was clumsy and fell? She looked into his eyes and lost all doubt. The music swelled, she turned with her back toward him, spun, and let herself fall backwards. She had committed herself and left herself in his hands.

  His arms folded gently yet strongly about her body, and she was gazing up into his eyes. The music resounded to a stop, and the hall filled with wild cheering and clapping. To Lucia, the room was suddenly quiet, with just her and Stephen in each other’s arms. Stephen’s eyes glowed with passion, his face only inches from hers, his hands holding her with easy strength.

  Then with an effort of emotion he pulled away and swung Lucia to a standing position. He bowed with her to their audience.

  Speaking sideways to her during one bow, Lucia heard his muttered growl. “I almost could not stop myself,” he whispered to Lucia. “But I did promise Anna.”

  Lucia took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Unusual - a man true to his word,” she replied softly with a mischievous grin. The moment had gotten to her as well, and she moved her mouth near his ear. “Perhaps that is why I love you so.”

  Stephen’s head swung around in surprise; passion and longing shone in his eyes. For a moment Lucia nearly gave in to the power of his desire. She nearly took the one step forward, wrapping herself in his embrace, revealing the fullness of their adoration to the crowd of watchers.

  Three courtiers were turning her with a laugh, pulling her toward the harp, and she sagged in relief. The moment was gone; she would make it through the night without hurting Anna.

  The crowd cheered as she settled herself down onto the stool. She glanced around for Stephen. He was returning to his seat, the passion in his eyes at a smolder she hoped only she could see.

  The crowd hushed again, and Lucia let her fingers ripple along the strings. She sang to them of love and hope, of longing and conte
ntment. After each song the crowd called for more, the toasts and applause coming in ocean waves.

  The trumpets sounded a blast behind her, and Hector was standing, his face flushed with drink. “Three in the morning, men,” he called out with a laugh. “Those of you taking the morning shift, I am sure the men on the wall are eager to come get some of this delicious roast duck before the dogs lick the bones clean!”

  There were good-hearted groans and complaints, but soon a portion of the men staggered their way toward the main doors. Marcus came in against the stream, making his way over to Stephen and whispering something in his ear. He pointed back toward the main gates.

  Stephen nodded, stood, then looked over to Lucia. He gave her a smile that warmed her through, then a farewell bow. Then the two men joined the stream of soldiers making their way toward the courtyard.

  With the departure of many of the soldiers, the servants bustled around cleaning up empty glassware, and many of those present staggered their way toward the garderobe or bed. Lucia accepted the compliments and thanks of half the room as she made her way back to the head table.

  Lord Edmund raised his glass in toast to her as she took her seat at his side. “A delightful evening, my dear,” he praised her. “I hope you enjoyed yourself?”

  She smiled at that. “It was a night I shall never forget,” she promised him. “The perfect ending to a delightful stay with you. Your hospitality is staggering, and I hope someday to be able to treat you in kind.”

  He looked her over, his brow wrinkling slightly in concern. “There is no rush on your departure. Are you sure you are ready for the journey? You have several injuries that are still healing, and the trip is not an easy one.”

  She smiled, touched by his concern. “I am quite certain I am up to it,” she promised. “We will take it slowly. If I become weary, we will simply find the next inn to rest at.”

  Lord Edmund glanced toward the entrance doors. “I suppose, after all, heading south retreats you further from danger.”

  A flare of defensiveness spun through Lucia at the thought of retreat. With effort she held back the retort that sprang to her lips. The older man was simply being solicitous and meant no offense.

  “A temporary retreat,” she offered conciliatorily. “Soon I will return with a host of troops, and together we will take on the Grays once and for all.”

  He smiled at that. “It will be nice to be done with those wolves’ heads, and be back to normal,” he agreed. “I will see you in the morning then.” He offered her a formal kiss on the cheek, then stood, calling out for his servant. In a moment he was striding off to his own chambers.

  The soldiers coming off their watch streamed into the room, eagerly settling down to drink and food. An elderly man with a pot-belly launched into a bawdy song; his lanky companion joined in with off-key harmony.

  Anna’s voice came, amused, at her side. “Not quite the same as your beautiful harp playing,” she teased.

  Lucia smiled, turning to embrace her friend. “I am sure they enjoy it just as much,” she pointed out. “We all have our different tastes.”

  Ian’s voice piped up on her other side. “They are the howling of dogs, while you have the clarity of an angel of glass,” he vowed. “I have never heard anything like your singing. I cannot believe you kept that from us all these weeks.”

  Lucia’s eyes sparkled. While she had hit the notes, she knew her singing was hardly of the angelic category. She wondered what combination of his flirtatious nature and his steady marination had contributed to his high opinion.

  “Thank you,” she offered gently. “If I had known you would adore it so, I certainly would have offered a song at each lunch.”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, drawing her in against him. “Well then, the moment you return to us, we can make that our new tradition! We can celebrate festivals every month of the year, with you at the centerpiece of each!”

  She let him hold her for a minute before easing away, stepping forward to pick up her glass, turning to toast both of them. “We will see what the future holds,” she offered with a smile. “But for now …” She looked up at the decorations, still shimmering beautifully in the candlelight. “You two deserve the highest praise for what we have right here. The work you and Anna invested in this event will be spoken of for years. It was the most beautiful celebration I have ever seen. Everybody adored it.”

  Anna blushed under the praise, but Ian barely seemed to see the room around them. His voice took on a hint of petulance.

  “So many people around,” he muttered, “when I wanted to spend time with you alone.” His eyes lit up. “I know, come walk in the gardens with me. The moonlight turns them into an enchanted fairyland of dewdrops and rainbows.”

  Lucia chuckled. “And unicorns, too, I suppose?”

  Ian beamed. “Absolutely, I am sure a unicorn could be found.”

  A loud yawn escaped from Lucia’s lips, and she suddenly realized just how exhausted she was. “You have been an excellent host,” she vowed to Ian, patting him on the shoulder. “But I am afraid I am done in for the night. I should head up to bed.”

  She glanced around, looking for Ellie, but the young girl had completely vanished. She smiled fondly. She wondered if she had gone off with James; the two had seemed quite inseparable as the evening had drifted on.

  Ian put his arm out to her, his chest puffing with pride. “It would be my privilege to escort you to your room, as the guest of honor,” he offered

  A thin tremor of nervousness wound within her, but she shook it off with a laugh. Surely the man could not cause that much trouble on such a short trip. “All right, then,” she agreed.

  She turned to Anna and drew her into a hug. “Good night, Anna. The party was spectacular. You have truly found your calling in life.”

  Anna beamed, and offered a wave as Lucia and Ian walked across the hall toward the long stairs.

  Ian prattled on about the ethereal flowers in his garden, the beautiful decorations of the party, and his ever-growing praise for her scabbard as they ascended the stairs and made their way down the empty hallways. Finally they drew to a stop before her door, and he turned to face her.

  His voice lowered in tone, and his eyes became more serious, more focused on her own. “Lucia, my darling, I can barely believe you are leaving me.” Before she knew it he had taken up her hands in his own, and was staring longingly into her eyes. “You know I care for you deeply. I hate the idea of you going off alone without me to protect you, but I cannot desert my home when they need me so desperately.” He gave her fingers a squeeze. “Can you promise me you will return as soon as you can? I will be counting the days until I see you again.”

  Lucia gently withdrew her hands from his. “I promise to return with my troops as soon as possible,” she assured him.

  “And you will stay?” he pressed her.

  She lifted the latch, pushing her door open. “Certainly, as we plan out our assaults on the Grays,” she agreed. “And then we will push them north, and up, and finally out of my homelands.” Her eyes glowed with relief and joy at the thought.

  Ian followed her through the door to her room, his eyes close on hers. His voice came out in a half snarl. “Your homelands, your homelands. Is that all you and Stephen can ever talk about?” he growled.

  Lucia’s eyes snapped up at Stephen’s name, and Ian’s eyes widened, then he had slammed his fist into her door, driving it shut. He moved to stand between her and the door, his gaze hardening, his face billowing crimson with fury.

  “Is it Stephen, that bastard? Has he come between us? Tell me!”

  Lucia shook her head in denial, but he angrily grabbed her shoulders. “I saw the way you danced together. I saw how he looked at you. He stole you from me! You were mine! You should still be mine!”

  Lucia cried out in surprise and tried to pull away, but he was strong with fury and passion. Lucia let out a shocked shriek, but the thick door muffled her cries from the rest o
f the castle. She tried to shake his hands loose from her. This was her friend! She didn’t want to hurt him!

  Ian’s grip dug into her arms, wrenching her backwards. She had to get away, she had to get him to stop - but he wouldn’t stop ...

  * * *

  Stephen looked steadily out toward the forest, wishing for the hundredth time that Lord Edmund would agree to cut it back another fifty feet. The twisty shadows were nearly impossible to see through, and it took every ounce of his effort to distinguish rock from branch.

  Shawn ran a hand through his greying hair, looking over at Marcus. “I am sorry to have disturbed you both; it was probably nothing,” he admitted to Stephen. “I just thought –”

  “You thought right,” reassured Stephen. “It is always better to be sure. But I think tonight will be a peaceful one, thank God.”

  There was a thundering of hooves from behind him, and he turned with surprise, staring down the main road. His heart slammed to a stop. It was Ellie. The girl was deathly afraid of horses, and it showed in her frozen face, in the rough bouncing that nearly threw her off. What could have driven her to this state?

  He flew down the steps, Marcus and Shawn hard on his heels. He was at her side in three strides.

  “What is it?”

  Ellie immediately burst into hysterical sobbing, unable to speak a word.

  Stephen vaulted onto the horse behind her, pulling the reins hard, wheeling the steed in place. He launched into a hard gallop back in the direction of the castle.

  He put an arm around Ellie to calm her, his voice holding soft steel. “Was it at the party?”

  They were passing the richer district. “No,” replied Ellie between sobs, “They were just gone ... I asked Anna ... she said ... Ian had walked Lucia upstairs ...” Ellie buried her face against Stephen’s arm, shaking uncontrollably. Stephen’s grip tightened on the reins, then, regaining control with an effort, he nodded in dawning understanding.