Keir didn’t want to get sucked into the grief that had so keenly healed since the introduction of Chloë. At the mention of Madeleine, he felt the sorrow, certainly, but not the stabbing pain normally associated with the subject. Now, it seemed more like a dull ache, the remnants of an unpleasant memory. He realized that it did not crush him to speak of it, a shocking realization indeed.
“My thanks,” Keir said softly. “As with all things, life goes on. I am betrothed and anticipating marriage once again. I am quite happy for it.”
Garran’s dark eyebrows lifted. “Congratulations, my friend,” he said. “Who is this fortunate young woman?”
Keir smiled. “The Lady Chloë de Geld,” he replied. “Her father is Anton de Geld of Exelby Castle. My brother has married her sister.”
Garran smiled as well. “May God bless you, my friend,” he said. “May you have many fine sons to carry on your name.”
“And daughters,” Summer piped up, laughing softly when the men snickered at her. “There is nothing wrong with having girls as well.”
Garran hugged her gently. “Of course not, sweetling,” he glanced playfully at Keir as he spoke to her. “I learned that the hard way.”
Summer scowled at her father. “What do you mean by that?”
Garran was laughing at her expense. “As a man with four sons, I was content to demand dowries for other men’s daughters,” he said. “Then, my last child is a daughter and I find that I am on the wrong end of the marital contract. Why do men demand such high prices for marriage?”
Keir and Michael chuckled as Summer simply shook her head. “It is punishment for all of the one-sided contracts you negotiated for my brothers,” she told him. “You will probably have to pay a fortune to be rid of me.”
Garran nodded, still looking at Keir and Michael as he spoke. “She is truthful,” he made a face. “My daughter is brilliant and opinionated. I will be made poor trying to marry her off because no man wants a wife who is smarter than he is.”
Keir laughed, downing more wine, as Michael countered the statement.
“Her beauty is a fine enough prize for any man,” he said sincerely. “Any man would be honored to have her.”
Summer beamed modestly as Garran looked interested. “And you, Pembury?” he was exaggerating his manner simply to be funny. “Are you speaking for yourself?”
Caught, Michael grinned, glancing at Keir and trying not to look embarrassed.
“I cannot confirm or deny your question,” he said, locking eyes with the green-eyed beauty. “I am simply making a statement that no man would dispute.”
Garran collected a cup to pour himself some wine. “You and I will speak on this later, Pembury.”
Keir snickered into his cup as Michael’s gaze lingered on the beautiful young woman, a smile playing on his lips. He wasn’t quite sure what to say to the man that wouldn’t insult him or his daughter, so he thought it best to keep his mouth shut.
After the sting of losing Cassandra, Michael wasn’t so sure he was ready for serious attention towards another woman, no matter how pretty she was. Normally, he saw women as a pursuit, but after the incident with Cassandra, he wasn’t so sure any longer. Something inside of him had changed. So he kept silent, drinking his wine as Garran and Keir changed the subject to trivial things. Still, Michael’s gaze kept drifting back to Lady Summer.
As the night deepened and the conversation flowed as freely as the wine, the door to the tavern jerked open and a huge gust of wind hurled through. Those near the door pulled their cloaks more tightly about their shoulders to ward off the cold wind. On the heels of the gust came a knight, bulky and heavily armed.
Keir was deep in conversation with Garran but Michael wasn’t. He casually glanced up to see who had entered, shock registering on his features when he realized that he recognized the knight. He thumped Keir on the shoulder as he rose to his feet.
“Kurtis!” he shouted.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Keir was on his feet, moving for his brother before he even realized he had stood up. His arms were out, reaching for the man as Kurtis turned in his direction. Before Keir could open his mouth to speak, Kurtis grabbed him.
“You must come with me,” he commanded, his voice hoarse with fatigue. “Chloë has had an accident.”
Keir must have swayed; he only knew that because Kurtis grabbed him firmly to keep him from falling. Michael was behind Keir, his expression between shock and confusion. It took both Kurtis and Michael to keep Keir on his feet.
“What do you mean?” Michael demanded. “What has happened? How did you find us?”
The questions were coming rapid-fire. Kurtis was looking at his brother as he spoke. He was in battle mode, having ridden for three days straight with little rest. He was exhausted and edgy.
“I happened to be passing through the town and recognized the chargers in the livery,” he said. “Praise God that I took this road – I almost took a shorter route through the mountains but the weather was so foul that I did not want to take the chance. De Lara at Beeston told me where you had gone so I hoped to find you, but I could truly only guess which road you had taken.”
By this time, Michael had a hand on Kurtis’ shoulder because the man appeared ready to collapse himself. Between Keir’s swaying and Kurtis’ exhaustion, both brothers were about to go down.
“Chloë,” Keir grasped at his brother and ended up grabbing him by the neck. “What happened to her?”
Kurtis’ ice blue eyes were fixed on his brother. “She fell down a flight of stairs,” he told him, not at all gently. “She struck her head. When I left, she was still unconscious. The physic… Keir, the physic believes she might have badly injured herself. You must come back right away.”
Keir abruptly yanked away from him, already moving back for the table where his possessions were. He staggered, knocking over another table as he went. He grabbed at his gloves and bags with shaking hands, dropping his bags and struggling to pick them up again. Garran, having heard the entire conversation, reached out to steady him.
“I will get your bags,” he said evenly. “Take your helm and gloves. I will have the horses brought to the front. Pull yourself together, my friend. You must remain calm if you are to make it home healthy and whole.”
Keir heard him but he lacked the understanding to adequately respond. He was so shaken that he was having a difficult time functioning. As de Moray began barking orders to the barkeep and the servants, Michael grabbed Kurtis and pulled the man over to the table laden with the remnants of the meal. He shoved him down into a chair and then shoved Keir down into another. Both brothers were walking a very brittle and exhausted path, so much so that Michael was seriously worried for both of them. But he was worried for Keir more.
“Chloë was fine when I left,” Michael said as Lady Summer poured wine for Kurtis. “What happened? How did she fall?”
Kurtis took a deep breath, gratefully accepting the wine from the pretty young woman. “Truthfully, I do not know,” he slurped the wine. “We did not see it happen. All we know is that she fell down the stairs.”
Keir was sitting next to his brother, looking pale and sick. “What did the physic say?”
Kurtis looked at his brother, realizing he should probably speak more kindly to the man. He was so upset, however, that it was difficult. Exhaustion had a hand in his inability to control his manner.
“He examined her and said that something was wrong with her spine,” he muttered, his eyes taking on a painful reflection. “God forgive me, Keir. Dear God, please forgive me.”
He slumped forward, his face in his hand. Keir’s ill expression washed with confusion. “Why? Why do you say that?”
Kurtis was verging on tears, unusual for a man who was perpetually in control of his emotions. “Before… before she fell, we were discussing Ingilby’s missive and I was telling her how foolish she was for having sent a reply to the man.”
Keir stiffened. “She sent a reply to
him?”
Kurtis nodded. “Her mother told her to. I did not know about it, Keir, or I swear I would have never allowed it.” His head came up and he looked between Keir and Michael. “I would assume Michael already told you of Ingilby’s proposal.”
Keir nodded. “He told me. He also told me of Chloë’s plan.” He suddenly sat back in his chair, snorting with the most painful irony imaginable. “So she replied to the man without your knowledge?”
“Aye.”
“With her mother’s blessing?”
“That is what I was told.”
Keir stared at his brother for a long moment before shooting to his feet, kicking the chair out from under him and sending it smashing into the wall.
“Where in the hell were you?” he bellowed, jabbing a finger at his brother. “I left you in charge of her, Kurtis. Where were you when all of this happened?”
“I stayed with her as much as I could, Keir, but even I need to sleep.”
“I would have done better had I left Ingilby in charge of her!”
Kurtis knew he deserved the lashing but he still tried to defend himself. “I did my best, Keir. I could not be with the woman all day and all night, never sleeping, watching her every move. Moreover, I cannot control her mother. The woman has the last word in all things.”
“I trusted you!”
“Blame her mother if you must blame someone, for I did all I could. I swear I would never knowingly disappoint you.”
Keir began throwing things around in his grief, smashing a couple of chairs as the patrons of the inn began to scatter. Garran pulled his daughter out of the way as Keir put his fist through the wooden shutters that had been closed over the large front window. Wood exploded in all directions.
Keir stood in the window frame as splinters rained down on him, hanging against the window, half in and half out of the tavern. It was beginning to rain again, light droplets pelting his face. After the initial explosion, he was suddenly still, feeling every raindrop like the thousands of knives of anguish piercing his heart.
“My sweet God,” he breathed. “What has she done? Chloë, what have you done?”
Kurtis was on his feet, standing behind his brother. “She thought she was sparing you from making a heart wrenching decision,” he offered, not sure if it would be well-met given his brother’s state of mind. “She did not believe it was fair to expect you to make the choice between her and your son, so she thought to make it for you. She thought she was doing what was best for you.”
Keir had heard the same thing from Michael. With a heavy sigh, he pulled himself out of the window frame and turned to his brother.
“I would choose Chloë,” he said hoarsely. “I know that sounds terrible, as if I am a terrible father for choosing a woman over my son, but the truth is that I do not even know if the boy that Ingilby has is mine. I very seriously doubt it because the timing of his proposal is too neat, too convenient. Therefore, I will choose Chloë until I know more about this mysterious child that Ingilby claims is my son. I will not believe it until I see the child’s face.”
“And then?”
Keir cocked an eyebrow. “And then I keep Chloë by my side while I negotiate for my son. If Ingilby will not negotiate, then I will do what I must in order to regain my son, up to and including razing Ripley Castle. Make no mistake, I will have my son and my vengeance as well, and Ingilby will rot in hell for having tangled with me.”
Kurtis knew that. But he was also concerned with his relationship with Northumberland and if, at some point, he might be fighting against his brother should Ingilby call on Northumberland for assistance. But he kept his mouth shut, not wanting to cloud the issue. At the moment, he was far more concerned with his brother’s mental state.
Without a word, he reached out and gently pulled his brother away from the window.
“Let us eat and rest for a few minutes before we return,” he said. “I could use something to eat, to be truthful. I have been riding for three days.”
Keir shook his head. “We must leave now. I must return to Aysgarth immediately.”
Kurtis sighed wearily. “My horse is spent, Keir,” he told him. “I would wager that your horse is as well. Let the animals rest a bit before we drive them into the ground.”
Keir hesitated. “But I must….”
Kurtis cut him off. “You will not go anywhere if you kill your horse. Come along now, sit down and let us eat something while we can. An hour will not make a difference.”
Keir reluctantly allowed his brother to push him back into his chair, an undamaged one. As Kurtis, Michael and Garran regained their seats, Lady Summer dared to speak.
“Sir Kurtis,” she began respectfully. “I know you do not know me, but I am Sir Garran’s daughter. My name is Summer.”
Kurtis looked at the woman and Garran as if just noticing them for the first time. He smiled weakly at Garran.
“De Moray, you old ox,” he muttered. “I have not seen you in some time.”
Garran smiled timidly. “I thought the Scots would have hung you by now, St. Héver. You tend to stir them up on the borders, or so I hear.”
Kurtis actually laughed. “I do indeed,” he agreed, his gaze moving back to Summer. “It is an honor to meet you, my lady. Forgive me for being rude when I first entered the room.”
Summer smiled at him. “There is nothing to forgive,” she said. “You were busy with other things. However, if you would not consider it too forward, I would like to ask a question.”
“Of course, my lady.”
She cleared her throat softly, glancing at her father somewhat nervously.
“I heard you say that the Lady Chloë has injured herself,” she said. “Forgive me for asking, but I know something of healing arts. I was wondering what her symptoms were.”
The smile faded from Kurtis’ expression as Garran spoke. “She is a miraculous healer,” he assured the men at the table. “There is no one finer in all of Dorset than my daughter. She has vast knowledge of healing.”
Kurtis looked at the woman, somewhat hesitant to discuss Chloë’s condition. “No offense intended, my lady,” he said, “but you seem rather young to have acquired such accomplished skill.”
Summer was not offended. “I learned from my mother, who was a very gifted healer, from a very young age. I have been healing since I was ten years of age.”
“Believe her,” Garran confirmed. “She has a skill that few can emulate. My dear wife, God rest her soul, passed along her talents to our only daughter and Summer has learned well. I would not make such claims if I did not implicitly believe in her skill.”
Kurtis’s dubious gaze moved between the lady and her father. He trusted de Moray and knew the man would not lie to him. After a moment, he looked at his brother.
“Do I have your permission to discuss Chloë’s state?” he asked.
Keir was back to drinking, which only seemed to aggravate his brittle manner. He looked at Lady Summer, at Garran, before replying.
“Go ahead.”
Kurtis returned his attention to Summer. “She tumbled down a flight of stairs,” he told her. “When we found her, she was unconscious at the bottom. She has a massive bump on her forehead and when the physic examined her, he said she had some kind of injury to her spine. He felt a lump, he said. Beyond that, I do not know any more.”
Summer listened carefully. “She was still unconscious the last time you saw her?”
“Aye.”
“How long was it since her fall?”
Kurtis shrugged. “An hour, perhaps less.”
“And the lump on her head,” Summer persisted. “Where was it, exactly?”
Kurtis tried to remember that beautiful, battered face. “Here, I think,” he put his hand up to the right side of his forehead. “It was right in front, about the size of a walnut.”
“I see,” she said thoughtfully. “And her spine; what did the physic say about it?”
Kurtis thought hard to that harrow
ing moment, realizing it was difficult to remember because he’d had so much more on his mind.
“He said he could feel something out of place on her spine that was causing her great pain,” he replied. “He said that it could be bruising and nothing more.”
Summer thought on that, realizing that Keir was watching her. She knew it could be any number of things and did not want to give the man false hope, but on the other hand, he looked desperately as if he needed something to cling to. She smiled weakly at him.
“The physic could be correct,” she said. “It could be a bruise and nothing more. Furthermore, your brother was only aware of her unconscious state for an hour or so, which could mean nothing at all. She could have easily awoken after he left. There is every reason to believe that she will recover but, of course, I do not know for sure since I have not seen her.”
Keir’s gaze lingered on her a moment before sighing heavily and returning to his wine.
“Perhaps,” he muttered.
Summer could see how distraught he was. She didn’t even know the man but she could see that the situation was tearing him apart. She looked at her father.
“Dada,” she said. “Perhaps we should return with them to see if I can help the lady. I would be most honored to lend my assistance.”
Garran lifted his eyebrows thoughtfully, perhaps reluctantly. “There is no finer healer in the land than you,” he looked at Keir. “We would be honored to accompany you home, Keir.”
Keir was feeling numb, disoriented. It was difficult for him to think much less make a decision. He knew that Garran meant the offer kindly and he didn’t much care one way or the other if they accompanied him back to Aysgarth. He simply wanted to get to Chloë, as fast as possible.
“You are not traveling the borders of Wales for your health,” he said. “Surely you have another destination in mind.”
Garran shrugged. “We are heading home from visiting my new grandson in Manchester,” he replied. “We are in no hurry to return home.”
Keir considered the request. “If you wish to come, I am grateful,” he said. “But we will ride hard and fast. I will not have time to wait for women or stragglers.”
England's Greatest Knights: A Medieval Romance Collection Page 152
