Return of the Rose

by Theresa Ragan

  Derek shook his head as he watched Matti disappear.

  He would not apologize to Amanda, he thought as he made his way to his wife’s bedchamber. He would hand her the tray and make a hasty exit. Afterward, he would have a talk with Hugo about Matti, tell him that his wife’s meddling was getting out of hand.

  With a scowl on his face and a tray in his hand, he entered her room.

  Morgan heard the door open. Thinking it was Odelia, she sat up, stretched her arms wide and said, “Good morning.”

  Derek grunted.

  Her eyes opened fully then. It was him all right, the same arrogant sap who’d managed to keep her tossing and turning most of the night. She crossed her arms tightly against her chest. “What do you want?”

  His cool expression changed to one of mock pain. “Surely you will not deny me the privilege of serving my wife a meal in bed?”

  She eyed him suspiciously as he brought forward a serving tray filled with silver bowls of fresh fruit and a plate of warm apple tarts. There was a silver goblet of apple cider and a red rose.

  “If you think this will make up for yesterday…”

  “I only wish to make my wife more agreeable. Is that so terrible?” He set the tray beside her on the bed and popped a chunk of fresh green apple into his mouth.

  “Ha, you think I’ll fall for that?” Morgan admonished. “I know what you want. You made it all very clear last night. I’m sure there are many women who would be more than willing to help you out. Maybe you could order a porcupine or concubine…or whatever you call those women who assist men like you in bearing them strong healthy sons.”

  “I am sure you are right,” he agreed. He raised one foot so that it rested on the wooden frame of the bed. “But I am afraid it would not do. Only you do I wish to be the mother of my children.”

  She opened her mouth to protest further, but he inserted a fresh strawberry into her mouth. She had no choice but to chew. “That was a dirty trick,” she said after swallowing.

  “The strawberry?”

  “All of it,” she said, talking with her hands. “Forcing me to marry you, coercing me into your bed…and the strawberry,” she added.

  “I did not mean to raise your ire so.” His brows slanted as he added, “And I do not recall having to coerce you into my bed.”

  She blushed.

  The hard features of his face softened. Then he seemed to struggle with whatever it was that was on his mind. “I may have said some things last night that perhaps I did not mean to say.”

  Standing straight, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

  “Are you apologizing?”

  “Nay,” he said matter-of-factly. “I do not find it necessary to apologize.” His brow creased. “But you must cease this talk of being from another world and of being someone else altogether.”

  She opened her mouth to protest but he put up a hand to stop her. “And another thing. We will have daughters instead of sons. ‘Twill please you to have daughters?”

  Morgan grunted. His offer to have daughters instead of sons was his way of apologizing for last night. Silly, and yet also sweet because he looked so serious. And she had already decided she wouldn’t bring up her being from another time again. Unless she found Amanda or the Earl of Kensington, it was useless trying to convince anyone of her situation.

  As she peered up at him, she noticed something different about him this morning. Not just in his mood, but in his eyes. It was as if a layer of anger and bitterness had been peeled away.

  “What?” he asked, looking at her with wide, somewhat innocent eyes.

  “You can’t do this,” she said softly. “You can’t say such cruel things to me one day, and then come to me with breakfast and a flower the next…” she took the rose and breathed in the sweet aroma, “…expecting all to be wonderful between us.”

  “Hmmm,” is all he had to say about that. “Get dressed.”

  She frowned.

  “Please,” he added before turning toward the door. “I will wait for you in the gardens.”

  “What about all the work you have piling up?”

  “‘Twould seem it has waited this long without dire consequence. Besides,” he said, turning back once more, “it seems I have a new steward to keep my accounts. She is as clever as a fox.”

  “You mean me?” she asked, pointing to her chest.

  His gaze shot toward the ceiling as he shook his head in playful annoyance. Then he left her alone to wonder what he was up to. The man was impossible to figure out. One minute he was kind and the next he was the devil himself.

  ~~~~

  “Lord Vanguard has been watching you,” Ciara whispered to the new maid, Helena.

  Helena put a hand to her chest. “I thought his lordship was newly married.”

  Ciara scoffed at that. “The ceremony was performed only to stop her ladyship from running away again. His lordship would not bother with Lady Amanda were it not for the king’s alliance.”

  “If Lord Vanguard resembles the courtly image of the troubadours, then why does Lady Amanda run from him at all?”

  “Because she is foolish and has many lovers. She has no sense and will do anything to cause Lord Vanguard hardship.” Ciara frowned, disliking the trickery she had become involved in. Truthfully, she had unexpectedly grown fond of Lady Amanda. But she had no choice but to do as she was told. Leonie had threatened her family. Ciara would do anything before she’d allow harm to come to her younger siblings. She was all they had left. She had already been stealing livestock to keep food in their stomachs. She was in too deep to turn back now.

  “See how gentle his lordship is?” Ciara asked the new maid. “How many lords do you know of who play with children that are not even of their own blood?”

  As Helena watched Lord Vanguard, Ciara noticed Helena’s petite frame. The girl had darkened skin from so many hours spent in the fields. Her clothes were fairly worn. Verily she wondered why Leonie thought this woman could catch his lordship’s eye at all. Lady Amanda was the only woman who had been capable of such a thing. And no matter what Leonie told her, Ciara felt certain that Lord Vanguard had already fallen in love with his wife. Everybody at Braddock thought so.

  Ciara observed the new maid with curiosity. Her hair could use a bit of attention, she thought, but the woman did have a fair enough smile, making her eyes sparkle. Although ‘twas difficult to tell since she wore a ragged tunic, Helena also had a shapely form which surely made men look twice. And how could any woman not take notice of such a handsome lord? A fine looking man such as Lord Vanguard with his thick black hair the shade of midnight and the charming indentation upon his chin would catch any woman’s eye.

  Ciara sighed, drawing strength from the thought of her siblings to do what she must. “I realize you came to Braddock for Matti’s training,” Ciara said to Helena, “and ‘tis certainly a privilege and an honor that you have been given the chance to do so. But to be Lord Vanguard’s mistress could be compared to discovering a king’s treasure.”

  “How do you know he is interested in me?” Helena asked.

  Ciara twirled a lock of auburn hair about her finger. “I had the honor of taking his lordship’s meal to him…’twas the day you arrived. I overheard his endless praise of you to his man-at-arms. I thought you would be pleased to know.”

  Helena’s bountiful chest heaved with each breath against the woolen garment she had long outgrown. She gave Ciara a devilish smile before making her way toward the children and their lord.

  ~~~~

  “Lady Amanda…are you in there?”

  “Come in,” Morgan said, her voice lined with frustration as she tried to fasten another hard to reach lace. “Could you help me with this?”

  Ciara readily obliged.

  “Thanks. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to these strange clothes.”

  “Did you not wear these garments at Silverwood?”

  Morgan winced. “I did. I’ve just never been good wi
th tying laces is what I meant to say.”

  “I see,” Ciara said as she finished with the last of the hard to reach ties.

  “Thanks. Now what can I do for you?” Morgan asked as she shuffled through Amanda’s trunk, looking for the slippers to match the royal blue gown she had on.

  Ciara stepped closer. “I thought you should know that Lord Vanguard is in the gardens.”

  “I know,” Morgan whispered back, wondering why they were talking in hushed voices, “he asked me to meet him there.”

  “He is with another woman, my lady.”

  “What?”

  Ciara nodded.

  Morgan stared at Ciara for a moment, dumbfounded, knowing there had to be a reasonable explanation. She slipped on the ivory slippers nearest her and left the room. Within minutes she was making a path through the many cooks in the kitchen. They waved and nodded, wondering what their ladyship was up to now as she rushed past without a word. Usually they burnt whole meals trying to cook and listen to her stories when she visited.

  Morgan swept through the side door and up the winding path. She spotted Joseph immediately. He held his slingshot in one hand and his belly in the other as he laughed whole-heartedly, watching as his lordship brought the new maid, Helena, to the soft ground in one swoop.

  “Joseph, what’s going on?” she asked, unable to make sense of what she was seeing.

  “N-nothing, my lady. A new maid-in-training only just joined in on our game of tag.”

  “Give me your slingshot, Joseph.”

  Joseph smiled mischievously and handed it over. He also handed her his ammunition of softly mounded dirt.

  “This won’t do,” she said with a determined glint in her eye.

  Joseph’s eyes sparkled and his smile grew even wider. “Maybe these will do well?” he asked, showing her his prized projectiles, a large collection of acorns.

  “Not good enough I’m afraid.” She looked to the ground and grabbed a small, but perfectly round stone that lay on the edge of the path.

  Joseph’s eyes bulged as he watched her ladyship ready the slingshot with a stone. “Surely, you will be thrown in the dungeon for this, my lady.”

  Morgan realized he was right and replaced the stone with the biggest acorn in the pile.

  Derek turned in her direction just as she let the acorn fly.

  Joseph’s mouth fell open when the acorn hit her target. Derek frowned as he touched the small lump forming above his brow. Then he took massive strides in their direction.

  Without looking away from him, Morgan handed the slingshot back to Joseph. “Thank you, kind sir, for the use of your fine weapon.”

  “You’re w-welcome,” Joseph managed before running off as fast as his small legs could carry him.

  “Saint John and horseflies woman! What do you think you are up to now?”

  Morgan stood firm, plunking her hands to her hips. “How dare you question me when you’re the one who invited me here just so I could see you flirt with another woman?”

  Derek threw his arms upward. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” He turned to where she gestured and noticed for the first time since coming to the gardens that the child he had just tackled was indeed a full-grown woman: a woman with great mountains of breasts firmly pressed against her tunic, he noticed as she came to her feet. She met his gaze and shot him a radiant grin.

  Derek stood momentarily speechless. “Once again it seems you are correct.” He chuckled to himself. “A man would have to be blind not to notice a wench such as that,” he said, turning toward Amanda only to watch her disappear back the way she came.

  What a saucy wench his wife could be.

  His head cleared as he gazed about. For the second time he found himself in the gardens, trying to please a damn woman, an impossible task that should be saved for passing troubadours and romantic minstrels. He raked his hands through his hair. She already expected him to beg forgiveness for their wedding day, and now this! The idea of it was absurd. He would not allow himself to be led around by a chain, and certainly not by an acorn hurling, blathering she-devil.

  ~~~~

  “The man is unbearable,” Morgan said an hour later as she packed a tin of soap, a comb and brush, and as many dresses as she could fit into the small trunk that Odelia had emptied.

  Odelia kept her tongue as she helped sort her things.

  “Do you know what he said last night on our wedding night?” Morgan asked. “He said he would teach me my wifely duties!” Her voice filled with indignation. “How do you like that? He said I would bear him sons, making it perfectly clear that I had only one use as his wife.”

  “Surely, it was only the ale talking,” Odelia said in Derek’s defense. “Did he not bring you a lovely meal to break your fast this very morn?”

  Morgan shook her finger at Odelia. “Big deal. I’ve heard about men like him. They do one little thing like unload the dishwasher or put away their socks and we’re supposed to be overwhelmed with joy, down on our knees and kissing their feet!”

  “You speak nonsense,” Odelia said with a chuckle before looking suddenly perplexed. “What is this dishwasher you speak of?”

  “A dishwasher washes the dishes, of course,” Morgan answered, exasperated.

  Odelia sighed and began repacking her things to make them all fit.

  Morgan gazed out the window. Down below, two young boys ran into the training field and mounted good-sized horses. They began to practice fighting with blunted swords and shiny lances. She winced as one boy rode toward a stuffed quintain, hitting his target at full speed. He fell off his horse, landing on his backside, coughing up dirt as it settled on top of him. Derek came into view, laughing heartily. Morgan stayed hidden behind the curtain. She watched him help the boy to his feet, brush the dirt off his small tunic, and then kneel so that he and the boy were at eye level as he talked to him. Man to boy. She smiled at the picture they made. Even though she couldn’t hear what they were saying, she saw trust in the boy’s eyes as Derek urged him to try again. According to Matti, Derek had not had a father to guide him when he was small. And yet instinct and his good heart allowed him to help others, to give freely of himself.

  He’d spoken with such coldness on their wedding day and yet even then she could see clearly that he was fighting with his emotions. He was fighting demons she couldn’t see, and that made it difficult to reason with the man at times.

  “My lady, are things really so terrible that you must try so hard to displease his lordship? The man is merely trying to please you.”

  “Trying to please me? He forced me to marry him. And he had to drink a keg of beer to do it. Every time I turn around he is in another woman’s arms. You call that trying to please me?”

  “I think you embellish just a wee bit, but as I told you earlier, and as your little friend Joseph confirmed, his lordship thought the new maid was one of the children. Helena is quite small and she is new to Braddock. From behind she looks no bigger than Joseph.”

  Morgan gazed heavenward. “Don’t tell me you believed Casanova’s story?”

  “Where do you come up with such names?” Odelia put a hand to the air. “Never mind—I do not want to know. But I dare hope you realize that Lord Vanguard went to the gardens for the sole purpose of pleasing you.” She fastened the last strap on the trunk. “I need to get my own things together now, so finish up and I will meet you belowstairs.”

  After Odelia left, Morgan thought about what she’d done to Derek’s head. She’d meant to hit his back and never would’ve used the largest acorn if she hadn’t been so…so jealous. She shuddered at the thought. She wasn’t a violent person. She’d never thrown anything in her life. Cringing, she realized she’d done exactly what Derek had done to her. She hadn’t listened, hadn’t given him the time to explain. She would make a point to apologize as soon as she saw him.

  Her insides rumbled at the thought that before sundown she’d be at Windsor, socializing with royalty. Tonight she would me
et the King of England. She’d read that King Henry VI was slightly insane. So what if he was a little off his rocker…she was going to meet him. How many people in the modern world could say that?

  An hour later, she descended the stairs. Not an easy task considering she wore a long, silky black dress that she’d designed and Shayna had stitched. The dress was sleeveless with a backside that draped low. She lifted the hem to prevent herself from tripping.

  Servants stopped their chattering to gawk at her. Emmon showed a rare tilt of the lips when he saw her. Hugo bowed and took hold of her elbow as she reached the landing, escorting her to where Derek leaned casually against the wall.

  Her gaze landed on the knot on his forehead. Even with his eyes smoldering the way they were, she thought he looked breathtakingly handsome in his light-colored shirt stretched taut over powerful shoulders. Only a shadow of a beard covered his jaw, adding to his magnetism. Dear God, she thought, this medieval man was her husband.

  Derek straightened. “We are late.” He seized her hand, pulling her along behind him as he made his way through the castle folk gathered around to wish them well.

  She swallowed dryly and said to his back, “I’m sorry…I thought about what I did and I came to the conclusion that I was just a tiny bit jealous. It was stupid of me. But just so you know, I wasn’t aiming for your head. You just happened to look over at the wrong time.”

  “So in a sense you are saying it was my fault—this knot on my head,” he said without slowing.

  “Well, when you put it that way, I guess maybe you could say we were both at fault.”

  Derek paused long enough to glance over his shoulder, stopping her with an aggravated gaze. No smile, no apology accepted.

  “You don’t have to be such a sorehead, you know.” Realizing her unintended pun, she yanked her hand from his grasp and bent over in laughter.

  Derek glared at her.

  “Sorehead—get it?” Judging by the stern expression covering his face he didn’t get it at all. She straightened, mumbled another apology of sorts, and followed behind as she tried to keep up with his lengthy strides.