by Amy Mullen
His thoughts stopped dead in their tracks. Having found nothing amiss outside, he shook his head and headed back, hoping his cold bath was now ready. Something had to cool him off.
Chapter Eleven
Dutifully, Gemma was up before the sun on her wedding day. She was nervous, and, for once, pacing in her room did nothing to help release her pent-up anxiety. Unable to sleep, she had tossed and turned in her bed all night trying to figure out how she should feel about Nicholas. The notion he had used her for so long and carelessly broken her heart stayed with her, and she did not know how to entertain any other reality. A significant part of the story was missing. Had too much time passed to find out the truth? Such old secrets had a way of staying buried.
She began to feel her life was a lie. The situation with Nicholas was not all it seemed. A year ago, she was sure of her position. Now, nothing was right. Just weeks ago she was content to live her life alone, hating him for what he had done to her, punishing herself for being gullible. He had broken her heart; nay, he had destroyed it. Now, in the early morning hours before she was to become his wife, she was not sure he had done any such thing. Everything was distorted and faded, and she did not know what to believe or what was real. Someone hid the truth, but after seven years it was bound to stay hidden.
It was time to dress. She opened her wardrobe but discarded the idea of wearing black. Instead, she chose a green kirtle that matched the cloak he had given her. Uncertainty was now a part of everything she had ever known and everything that had guided her life thus far, but insulting him on their wedding day was no longer a move she wished to make.
Her change of heart was not because she was broken. It was because she was completely sure he would protect and care for them, no matter how he felt about her. Isabel and her father meant the world to her. She would wed willingly, and she would not make a mockery of it for their sake.
Doing that was easier said than done. He had a strange effect on her she could not balance in her mind. It was obvious she seemed to lose all control over her own body when he touched her, yet in her mind, she could not bring herself to trust him. Was lust so much different from love? She wondered if they could be exclusive in a marriage. That was what he had told her when he first arrived. He would enjoy their marriage bed, but otherwise she should stay out of his way.
Isabel was probably up as well, bouncing around her quarters making Hesse wonder if being a nursemaid was her best choice. The imp was full of life, love, and spirit, but also quite a bit of mischief. One could go quite insane trying to keep up with her on a day like this. Gemma decided to take a trip down the passageway toward the nursery to see if she could help Hesse keep the excitement down, at least until others were awake.
After finding her sister awake, she took her to quickly break their fast. They would eat, attend mass, and have the wedding at the doors of the chapel immediately after mass was completed. A huge feast was already in the works for after the wedding. This should have been a celebration, but Gemma did not feel like celebrating. She feared it was a distraction that would lead to someone else getting hurt, but she knew she must see it through.
They ate in silence. Nicholas was absent. Leda told her he came to the kitchen early, had something quickly, and then took off on his destrier, and she had not seen him since. He had taken Willis Gromme and some of his men with him. Gemma concluded he was out in the woods searching for trouble. It did not cross her mind he was backing out, not with his chance at revenge on her so close at hand. Any wise lord would do the same on such a day. Word of their marriage spread quickly and as with other big events where the lord of the castle might be distracted, trouble could brew quickly.
Hesse and her sister helped her dress. She donned a shimmering, green kirtle, the aqua green, fur lined cloak from Nicholas, and embroidered slippers she saved for special occasions. A page arrived with a small box from her father. Inside, she found a sparkling emerald. The gold-speckled stone was polished and hung from a black chain that reflected gold in the sunlight. Long ago, it was a wedding gift from her father to her mother. With tears, Hesse helped her put it around her neck. It was the perfect touch to an already stunning wedding outfit.
The cook was far too busy with the feast to be with her, but she sent a message of good wishes up. The castle was humming. Servants were rushing about the hall. Aromas wafted from the kitchen, and soft, excited voices could be heard. The high, reverberating energy was making Gemma even more nervous as she, Hesse, and Isabel left the hall.
As they made their way toward the chapel for mass and the wedding, Isabel became agitated. "Oh dear!" she wailed.
"What is it?" her older sister asked as she knelt down.
"The flowers, Gemma. The flowers!" she said in a dramatic voice. "There simply are not enough."
"You did a fine job," she said, putting a hand up to feel the daisies her sister had woven into her hair. "I feel like a princess."
"But there are none in the chapel. Should we have more there? Everyone should know it is a wedding."
"They know, but if you hurry and take Oliver with you, you can run down to the gardens and see what else has bloomed overnight. Make haste though, as we are to be in the chapel soon."
With an excited nod, Isabel bolted down the steps, almost knocking over a servant carrying tallow candles toward the keep. Oliver and Hesse walked quickly behind her, though the nursemaid had to run to keep up with the child. In the past, Isabel's habit of running ahead as she often did was not a problem, but now it was necessary to have her within eye-shot at all times.
Gemma hesitated then went back inside to visit her father. He was dressing to go to the chapel. After returning to her quarters, she momentarily sat back on her bed waiting for her sister to return when Leda burst into her chamber. She was nearly out of breath and could not speak as she took in deep gulps of air.
"What is it?" Gemma stood, fearing something had happened. "What is wrong?"
"'Tis Bigod," Leda managed to say as she continued to try to catch her breath. "Did ye know he was to be here, milady?"
"Have you seen Nicholas?" she asked, a little alarmed. She knew the Bigods would be invited. They were the nearest neighbors, and the elder Bigod had conducted business with her father in the past.
"Y-y-y-yes," she said, taking one last deep breath. "He was near the stables talking with Willis. He be awfully nervous, but he is around."
"Good." Gemma relaxed a bit and then continued. "As long as Nicholas is near and he knows Phillip is here, he will see he stays in line."
"That man gives me the creeps he does," Leda said, putting her hand over her heart for a moment, and then she lowered her voice to a whisper. "Do ye think there be any way he be involved in the happenings 'round here? I swear he be pure evil, and I do not like him near ye."
Gemma had given some thought into Phillip being behind the deaths around them. He had seemed quite patient with the de Veres, asking again and again for her hand without making it seem like it was urgent they marry. She was long past the traditional age for any woman to marry, but Phillip was always calm and accepted her refusal. That was, until he came to ask again. Hopefully, he was over his quest to marry her now, and he was accepting of Nicholas as her husband.
"I often thought he was too boorish to ever be that clever," she answered her cook and friend, "'twould not seem he has the brains to be so devious, and whoever is doing these things, well, they are most certainly devious, would you not agree?"
"I be getting back then. I hope ye are right, milady." She gave a quick bob and left the room to return to her preparations.
****
Gemma stood near the doors of the chapel and officially became the wife of Nicholas de Reymes. Isabel stood with her, a bunch of dew covered flowers in blues, yellows, reds, and deep purples clenched in her little hands. She beamed at her new brother-in-law like she had not a care in the world. It was done. There was no turning back now. They were wed, and he would protect them from here on ou
t.
The crowd surrounding the couple was small. Some nearby families, including the Bigods, were witnesses, and a cheer went up as the castle inhabitants gave their blessing to the union. This surprised her, but Nicholas had won their hearts somehow.
As he took her arm in his, she took a peek at him, and perhaps for the first time since he had ridden back into her life just five days before, she offered him a smile. He could not be all bad to have won the hearts of her people so quickly. If he meant to harm her or her family he would have done so by now. Glancing down at her, he offered a smile of his own, but it appeared forced. She could not decide if it was because he still hated her so or because something else was on his mind.
Nicholas led her though the bailey and up into the great hall where the promised feast was waiting. The tables were all piled high with food. There was roasted venison and boar and a great number of capons stuffed and cooked whole over an open fire. All manners of fresh and preserved vegetables and more fruit than Gemma had ever seen in one place spilled from trenchers. Heaps of bread were paired with pots of sweet butter and honey. A few musicians and a jester were hired for the celebration, something she had not expected due to the lockdown of the castle.
As soon as the couple, the new lord and lady of Blackstone, sat down to eat, everyone else did as well. The hall quickly filled with energetic chatter, and before long, Isabel was down from her seat, begging the musicians to show her how to play. Food disappeared quickly, and guests settled back with spiced wine and ale, chatting with each other. The mood was light and for a moment, all was right in their world.
On the perimeter, however, anyone paying attention would notice men-at-arms more alert than usual. They did not rest, though they did eat in shifts. Some would disappear to relieve those on guard outside so they too could come up and eat. Servants were watching those around them more carefully than usual.
Oliver and Willis did not stray far from the new couple, nor did they let Isabel out of their sight. Gemma's father, who had witnessed the wedding, was not well enough to enjoy the feast but instead ate up in his chambers with the priest and his squire. Gemma worried his recovery had seemed to stall but was grateful he was still with them. He showed happiness as they wed, adding to her confusion.
"Milady," Nicholas said with a hint of a smirk on his face, "I think you and I have much to discuss."
Looking up from her wine, she met his gaze for a moment. "Is it time then?" she asked. Her throat tightened.
He let out a chuckle. "No, that part will come later. I am much looking forward to it. However, I think you and I should clear some things up before the day is through. Would you walk with me down by the gardens as the guests eat what is left of our food?"
"I will," she said as she stood.
"Stop looking down all the time. I much enjoy the color of your eyes when you are speaking. It is as if they are on fire. Do you want our guests to think I beat you?"
They stepped away from the dais, and Oliver came to their side almost instantly. "Is there a problem, milord?"
"Nay," Nicholas said. "My new wife and I would like to walk to the gardens and around the orchard for a few private words. We will want someone to follow in the event there is trouble, but we do want to be alone for a while."
Oliver nodded. "I will be near, but I will be out of hearing if you wish, milord. I shall leave Willis here to watch over Hesse and Isabel and the guests, of course."
Nicholas led her out of the great hall, mostly unheeded, and they walked through the inner bailey. They silently walked through an arch in the inner curtain to come out near the garden. He held tight to her arm.
"We cannot live this way," she said, observing the tight lines forming around his mouth. "'Tis like a prison."
"I know. As hard as it is for me to admit, I feel frustrated I have yet to clear this problem from our lives. You see, Gemma, as a knight, I was always the one Henry could count on and now, five days in, I am right where I started." They continued to walk in silence, thinking about all of the pain around them.
"The rosebushes," she began as they neared the garden, "they were planted by my mother. She struggled with them for a while, but she got the hang of it just two years before she died. They are mostly cared for by the gardener now, but I do so love to look at them. I wish my mother was here today."
Nicholas did not reply. He stared at her with a raised eyebrow.
She stopped near the roses to touch one that had a lovely bud about to bloom. "No matter what happened or will happen between us, I do so hate this sadness. It also scares me you are to protect us, but you are feeling as helpless as the rest of us feel."
He took her hand. "Don't mistake my frustration for helplessness, little one. I will find out what goes on here, and those who dare to defy me will meet a swift end." He said the last words through gritted teeth, reminding her of how he was when he first arrived.
"I did not mean to disgrace you, milord," she said, meeting his gaze once again. "I just mean to let you know we all feel as you do, and though I was opposed to your presence here, I do feel more secure now."
"You do not hate me as you did when I arrived?" he asked.
"I do not know how to feel about you. I do not know how to respond to your hatred of me, and your kindness to everyone else confuses me. I know I have already said it many times, but I loved you years ago, and my family was not responsible for what happened to you."
Instead of the explosion she expected, Nicholas remained quiet for a moment before he spoke. "Your father has been welcoming, and he blessed our marriage. If he hated me as much when we were young and did what he could to see we were parted, it makes no sense he would feel differently now."
"I too have thought about that," she admitted as they sat together on a wooden bench among the flowers. "I know he did not oppose because no matter what you may think, he did not know, but surely the story of your family aiding Matilda at our expense should bother him, yet he does not seem to think 'tis a cause for concern."
He put a hand on hers. "We may have to consider neither of us knows what happened. I cannot free myself from this pain until I know, and though you are my wife now, I still consider you to be included in that pain."
Stiffening, she replied, "And I too have to consider you are not being forthcoming until I know. We are wed now, but that does not bring about a clean slate."
"We are going to deal with the life we have and move forward to bring peace again," he said, letting her hand drop. "Mayhap we will find something to agree upon and that will bind us. We cannot hope to be a love match, but mayhap we can be friends."
Tears stung her eyes. He was right. There was no answer to the stalemate between them, yet they had calmed down around one another. Neither would there be answers as to what happened seven years hence nor did it matter to those that might know. Matilda's son Henry was now the king, Stephen was dead, and her own father was not able to communicate well.
"Walk with me," he said abruptly, pulling her up by her arm. "I wish to talk to you about the tunnel."
The mention of the passageway startled her. She stood and followed him. "Why do you want to talk about the tunnel?"
"I think it is the key to what is going on around here," he said as they walked. He lowered his voice and gave a wave to Oliver, who stood near the tower watching them from a safe but respectable distance. "Your father should have had it blocked years ago. Did you know 'twas still open?"
"I am still not sure my father knows of it," she said.
"Make no mistake," he said. "He was the lord of this castle for a long time. He knows."
"Why did he never mention it to me then?"
Nicholas did not know how much her father trusted her. "Mayhap he worried his sweet daughter would use it to meet young men outside the castle walls?"
"I do not find you amusing," she said with a sigh.
"You should know I too have left it open," he said, "but 'tis watched all day and night. I have four shifts of four
men on it day and night. I feared if anyone was coming in and out, this was how they were doing it."
She was shocked she had not thought of this herself. Surely no one else knew it was there.
Before she could say as much, a scream rose and then fell sharply into nothingness. It came from the inner bailey. Nicholas motioned to Oliver to stay with Gemma as he ran to see what was going on.
"Stay here," he demanded as he took off. She was frightened, so she went toward Oliver as Nicholas raced with long strides into the inner bailey and disappeared, but Oliver was nowhere to be seen.
In a panic, she ran straight into the orchard. Something was wrong yet again, and just as both she and Nicholas had feared, the wedding was an opportunity for someone else to be harmed. She was going the wrong way. Before she could stop and turn back toward the garden, she was hit from behind. The blow to her back was so strong it knocked the wind from her as she landed face down in the grass. She tried to get up, but someone sat on her back, making it even harder to draw the much needed air she was desperately trying to take in.
"Shut up, witch," a familiar voice said, though she could not place it. A gag was put around her mouth, pulled so tight between her teeth she started to hyperventilate. It was so taut she feared her jaw would snap. She struggled as hard as she could, but the gag was pulled and tied tightly behind her head, leaving her incapable of screaming for help. She could hear nothing but the panting of the person on top of her. There were no footsteps coming her way to save her. Where was Oliver? Would Nicholas realize she was missing?
For a brief moment she considered this was his doing, but she dismissed that idea immediately. She had hated Nicholas all these years, but she had learned to trust him in just five short days.
The world spun as she was roughly rolled over and thrown on her back. The sunlight coming through the trees blinded her for a moment, but then her eyes focused on her attacker. It was Phillip Bigod. He was trouble, but he had always seemed so awkward and clumsy it never crossed her mind he might be smart enough to catch her alone.
