“My lord?”
“Why do you wear peasant clothes?”
Her hands grabbed at the sides of her plain brown skirt. Her mind thought fast. “Reena and I are foraging the woods for flowers and greenery appropriate for my headdress. I did not wish to soil or ruin my fine garments.”
“You may go,” he said satisfied with her explanation.
This time she hurried her steps, though not so anyone noticed, and once outside the hall doors she picked up her pace and made a dash for Old Margaret’s cottage.
Mary entered the cottage; the front door was open, welcoming all.
“You look well this fine day,” Old Margaret said.
Mary smiled. “How could I not on this beautiful day.”
“I am pleased that you will be helping Reena record my plants.”
“I look forward to learning as I help,” Mary said, always eager to gain new knowledge.
“Good, go then and enjoy, though be careful of the storm.”
“And here I thought the day would remain sunny,” Reena said, handing a basket covered with a cloth to Mary and slinging a leather pouch over her shoulder.
“The tempest begins,” Old Margaret warns. “And does not settle soon.”
The two women took heed of her warning and walked to the door.
“Mary,” Old Margaret said, “a moment of your time?”
Reena walked out the door leaving the two women to talk.
“Be careful, Mary, you glow with love.”
Mary placed her hand to her heart. “It shows.”
“I see what others do not, but your love is strong and will refuse to remain hidden. Others will soon see.”
“Thank you for the warning.”
“God be with you, Mary. Your task will not be easy.”
Mary joined Reena and they spoke not a word until they entered the safety of the woods.
“Is everything all right?” Reena asked.
“I pray so.” Mary did not wish to burden Reena with more problems nor chance her knowing anything that could bring her harm.
They set to work searching for plants. Reena would do quick sketches of the plant while Mary recorded the conditions surrounding it.
“It is good that you can write and read, few do,” Reena said.
“My parents felt it was important for me to understand many written and oral languages.”
“My mother felt the same,” Reena said. “And while I protested when I was young, I am grateful for my knowledge now.”
They stopped to eat, the basket packed with bread, cheese, and cider.
“You carry more of a burden than you tell,” Reena said, the large tree branches shading the spot where they sat. “Did Old Margaret see something that upset you?”
“She is a seer?”
“More a healer, though at times she sees things,” Reena said. “Perhaps she saw what is obvious. You look different this morning. Happier, more content.”
Mary silently chastised herself for being foolish. She had felt happier this morning. Though Michael had been gone when she woke, his scent had remained on her pillow and she had hugged it to her. The memories of the night before brought a smile to her face that she could not shed. She had not thought that others would see a change in her, but there had been a change. She had made love with the man she loved, and it had filled her with joy and peace.
Reena reached out to her. “I keep a good confidence.”
Mary trusted her; she needed to. She needed a friend to share her burden with. “The Dark One came to me last night.”
“You love him very much?”
Mary nodded. “I have never looked upon his face, but it matters not, for I know his heart.”
“You must be careful; he must be careful.”
“I know. I worry that our love will place him in jeopardy. I worry that he will take chances that he should not take, and I worry that we will not be together.”
“Too much of a burden for one to carry alone,” Reena said.
“I have carried many burdens. I had hoped one day my load would be lightened.”
“Miracles do happen.”
“All the time,” Mary said.
“I have been thinking,” Reena said. “The information we have gathered has been insufficient in finding out how Decimus tracked you down, and it appears that you and the Dark One remained barely a few steps ahead of him in his pursuit. Is there anyone you know that may connect the Dark One, Decimus, and you?”
“I have met a few people who know both men, though they knew naught of me. And then there is Roarke, but again he did not know me. I thought Magnus sent the Dark One to help me, but how did he learn of my need?”
“We’ve learned a man overheard two others who spoke of your plight and contacted the Dark One. When the Dark One learned that it was Decimus who searched for you, he knew that Magnus was your protector.”
“Who was this man who contacted the Dark One? And what interest did he have in me?”
Reena shook her head. “I do not know and the Dark One never told Magnus the man’s identity.”
“Perhaps this mysterious man is the link to my being betrayed,” Mary said.
“And why now after all these years would someone betray you?”
“Perhaps he is more foe than friend,” Mary suggested.
“Then that would mean another hunts you.”
“Or that another looks after me?”
“There is only one person who can answer that question,” Reena said.
“The Dark One,” they said in unison.
Chapter 25
The storm clouds that had gathered overhead upon Mary and Reena’s return dumped a heavy rainfall on the land just before sunset. Everyone ran for cover and the village settled in for the night.
Mary was tired, having slept little the night before. An early supper and sleep was the only thing on her mind. Could she escape for the night and cloister herself in her bedchamber without causing a problem?
Decimus had wanted to speak with her, though he had not summoned her since her return to the keep. She hoped to beg a headache and be left alone for the night. Tomorrow would be soon enough to talk with him, but then there was also the rest of her life to talk with him.
Reena helped to fashion her excuse intending to prevent anyone from disturbing Mary, if she could.
Mary had just tossed herself on the bed to wait for the light fare Reena was having sent to her room when a sharp knock sounded at the door.
“Mary! I wish to speak with you.”
She rolled her eyes at Decimus’s familiar voice.
“I am not feeling well, can it not wait?”
“Open the door.”
She sat up quickly, shivers racing through her upon hearing his tightly controlled speech. He was angry and she wished to cause no problems for herself or anyone else.
She went to the door and opened it, keeping her head respectably bowed.
He grabbed the door from her hand and slammed it shut, the force sending the sound echoing throughout the keep.
“I will tell this to you now, and you will remember it well.”
She looked at him, and there in his dark eyes that raged in anger she thought she saw loneliness. It was a brief sighting and one she was not fully certain she had seen at all, it so startled her.
“No locked doors will ever separate us.”
There would be no place to escape him, ever.
“We will talk now,” he said, letting her know he expected no reply, just obedience.
Though her head had not ached before, it did now. “Please, can this not wait? My head aches.”
“I will not tolerate excuses.”
She wanted to scream at him to leave her alone, to go away and never come back, but her silent ranting served no purpose other than to cause her head to throb more.
She held her hand to her head. “I speak the truth, my—” She suddenly felt dizzy and stumbled backward.
Decimus was
quick to reach out to her, grabbing her arm. He had just lifted her up into his arms when the door opened.
Reena walked in with a tray of food and stood startled by the sight of Mary’s head resting against Decimus’s chest.
“You have a healer?” he asked, looking to Reena.
She nodded.
“Go fetch her at once.”
Reena left the tray on the table and hurried out the door.
Decimus carried Mary to the bed and laid her down gently. “From this moment on you will do nothing without my approval and I care not what anyone says.”
“Mary is still under my guardianship,” Magnus said from the open doorway.
“She is no longer,” Decimus challenged with authority. “She is my wife to be and, therefore, my responsibility.”
Magnus attempted to protest.
“Do not make me go to the king to make it official,” Decimus warned. “You may be in his favor, but he will not deny me.”
Magnus could not argue. He knew Decimus was right.
Old Margaret entered the room and seeing the two men about ready to battle, ordered them out. “Be gone, both of you, while I tend to her.”
“I will stay,” Decimus said.
“You will not,” Old Margaret said firmly. “I am the healer here and I know what is good for her. Now be gone. I will let you know when you can return.”
Decimus looked down at Mary, her eyes were barely open, he then looked to the healer. “Treat her well or you will suffer.”
“She is in good hands, my lord,” Old Margaret said then turned her back on him.
Magnus waited until Decimus left the room then followed him out, closing the door behind them after Reena slipped into the room.
Old Margaret heated water over the fire and mixed a special brew after Mary complained about her head.
“You are not well,” Reena said surprised, sitting by her side on the bed. “I thought it a ruse as we planned.”
“My head began to ache when Decimus knocked on my door. Then I grew dizzy and my stomach felt upset.”
“Has this happened before?” Old Margaret asked, returning to the side of the bed.
“Nay, it has not.”
“Drink this. It will help you rest.” Old Margaret handed her a cup of the steaming brew. “You will sleep well and your head will feel better when you wake.”
Reena and the healer helped Mary get undressed and settled her in the bed before Decimus was told he could speak with Mary.
“Only a few moments,” Old Margaret warned him before she left. “She needs to rest.”
Reena sat in a chair near the bed and Magnus stood next to his wife.
“I will be alone with her,” Decimus ordered.
Reena did not want to leave Mary alone with him. “I thought to sit with her in case she requires help.”
“Wait outside,” he ordered and looked to Magnus as if ordering him to tend to his wife.
Magnus took his wife’s arm. “We will wait outside the door.”
Decimus sat on the bed beside her.
Mary’s eyes flickered open.
“I have made a decision, Mary.”
She wondered if she dreamed that Decimus sat beside her. Her head felt light and fuzzy, and she did not know if she was awake or asleep.
“We will not wait to wed. By week’s end you will be my wife.”
She sighed. “You are not real. This is not real. Nothing is real.”
“I am real, Mary,” he said and slowly reached out to touch her face. “I am very real. And you are mine.”
Reena returned after Decimus left and let Mary know that she was there and would remain so throughout the night.
“Nay, you must not,” she whispered. “I must be alone, please leave me alone.” She begged until Reena agreed and left her to sleep.
Mary dreamed all night, her aching head playing tricks on her. One minute she thought Decimus was with her and the next she was certain Michael was there, until she finally realized that she was alone in her bedchamber.
Only then when she was certain no one was with her did she close her eyes and whisper, “Michael, I love you.”
Her eyes were heavy with sleep when she heard the faint whisper. She ignored it wanting to remain in the cocoon of peaceful slumber. But it was a persistent whisper and she had no choice but to heed it.
Mary.
She struggled to wake, struggled to open her eyes.
Mary, I have little time.
Michael? Did Michael call her? Was she dreaming again? She fought harder to shake the sleep from her.
“Mary, are you all right?”
“Michael?”
“It is me. Are you well?”
She tried to open her eyes but they were so very heavy. “So tired . . .” She could not get the rest of the words from her mouth.
“Say nothing. Rest.”
She needed to ask him something, but she was not certain what it was. Her mind was too foggy to think. It was important, though; she knew it was. But what was it?
“Question,” she murmured.
“Sleep,” he urged her. “Stay well.”
Important. The question was important.
Why could she not remember?
“I love you,” he whispered.
The words I love you were strong in her mind, but she could not force the thought aloud. And she returned to her cocoon of peaceful slumber.
Mary woke to a clap of thunder the next morning feeling much better, though concerned—she was not certain of last night’s events. Had Michael visited her? Had Decimus told her they would wed by week’s end? She did not know her dreams from reality, but she intended to find out.
After dressing in her green shift and tunic and plaiting her long blond hair she hurried to the great hall ready to eat.
Reena and Brigid sat at a table near the large fireplace where no one else was in sight, a relief to Mary. At least she would be able to eat her meal in peace.
“We heard the news,” Reena said.
Mary shook her head as she joined them. “So it is true, I am to wed by week’s end.”
“You did not know?” Brigid asked surprised.
“After I drank Old Margaret’s brew last night, I was not certain of anything.”
“But you feel well this morning?” Reena asked.
“I have not an ache in my head and I am famished.”
Reena ordered a servant girl to bring food for Mary, then huddled with the women to discuss the situation. “We have not much time.”
“There is nothing we can do to stop this wedding,” Mary said, knowing it was time to face the inevitable. “Even if we discover someone had betrayed me, what difference would it make? Decimus has decreed he will wed me and his word is final.”
“Perhaps this person can protect you,” Reena said, struggling to find a solution.
“If this mysterious person had the power to protect her, would he have not stepped forward by now?” Brigid asked.
“She is right,” Mary said.
“There must be a way—”
Mary placed her hand on Reena’s arm. “There is nothing that can be done. It is my fate to wed Decimus. I would like nothing more than for that not to be true, but it is and I can run from it no more.”
“You are brave,” Brigid said with a tear in her eye.
“I am not brave. I am fearful of wedding Decimus and”—Mary choked back her own tears—“I am glad I have known true love.”
The three women shared tears and promises to always be friends, and of course Reena refused to believe that something could not be done to save Mary.
“I will continue my search,” Reena said.
“She is not happy unless she is searching and getting herself into trouble,” Brigid said teasingly.
“Mary!”
The three women jumped and turned to see Decimus marching into the great hall, his clothing wet from the heavy rain.
“We talk,” he said and directed he
r to follow him with a wave of his hand.
She hurried after him, noticing the strength of his strides and the rigid way in which he carried himself. He was a man with strong beliefs, and he expected all to follow him.
She had spent precious time attempting to find a way not to wed him. Now it was necessary to find out more about the man who was to be her husband. She would need to know him well if she was to protect herself from harm.
He took her to his bedchamber. She hesitated at the door, it being not at all proper for her to be there. His scathing look warned of punishment if she did not obey, and she reluctantly entered the room.
“Sit,” he ordered, pointing to the lone chair by the table.
He stood near the fireplace warming his hands.
He was richly dressed. His tunic was the color of deep red wine and was trimmed with gold and as usual he wore his rings. A gold cross on a heavy gold, chain hung around his neck. He certainly did not mind adorning himself.
“You are well this morning?” he asked after she had sat.
“I feel much better this morning. Thank you for asking.”
He rubbed his hands together, they looked strong though his fingers were narrow, and she could not help but wonder how many people those very hands had hurt.
“I want you to rest today. I will instruct the servants to tend to you.”
“It is not necessary. I am fine and I prefer to do for myself.”
He glared at her. “This is why I wished to talk. I will make your duties as my wife clear, and then you will know how to behave.”
“As you say.” She had the feeling that she would repeat those words often.
He began with, “You will not speak unless I give you permission.”
He droned on, detailing every step of her life with him. He would control her every movement, her every breath, her every thought. There would be no reason for her to think for herself, he would do it for her.
“After all,” he said. “Women are inferior to men.”
She remained quiet listening like a dutiful, inferior woman, while silently swearing that she would teach him otherwise. She would learn his faults and use them to her advantage.
It was evident that his first fault was arrogance and that certainly did not serve anyone well.
He walked closer to her and stared as though he looked through her, and she shifted uncomfortably in the chair. Did he see something? Did he sense something? His dark eyes made her uneasy and she looked away.
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