Claire Delacroix (88 page)

The towers of Crevy-sur-Seine rose before them in the fading sunlight of the late afternoon. ’Twas not a small estate, by any means, and Alys realized at the sight of it just how paltry Kiltorren must have appeared to Burke.

Was Montvieux as fine as this? A new doubt joined the legion already occupying her thoughts. Indeed, Alys could not imagine that any man could shun so wealthy a holding and not come to regret its loss.

Or blame the woman on whose credit he cast aside his prize. Would bitterness come between herself and Burke over his surrender of Montvieux? Alys nibbled her bottom lip and studied the towers rising before them.

The four tall square towers of Crevy’s keep were joined by high walls, then encircled with yet another high wall. Within this space were the stables and workshops, the village spilling around the road outside the portcullis. A low flat river flowed behind the keep, the gently rolling pastures were a verdant green, and the forest in the distance was filled with cool shadows.

The sentry let out a hoot of recognition when he spied Burke. At his cry, people spilled from the stables and the armory, calling greetings and waving with abandon. Half a dozen children ran behind the horses, not a one of them as ragged as the most prosperous villein at Kiltorren.

A finery dressed man strode out of the keep, both his authoritative wave and the way all turned to him telling Alys his identity. He was indeed slightly shorter than Burke, lighter of hair and darker of eye, though he looked to be of the same age. His build was muscular and trim; he moved with a warrior’s ease.

“Do you think he will do?” Burke murmured, and Alys could only nod before the man halted beside them.

“Brother Burke!” he cried, though Alys could make no sense of the appellation. “What an unexpected pleasure!”

“Aye, Guillaume, ’tis good to see you as well.” Burke dismounted, the two shook hands, grinned at each other, and then abruptly embraced. They laughed and exchanged pleasantries in the manner of old, good friends.

In the meantime, a short woman with silver hair made her way across the bailey with tiny steps. She let out a cry of delight when she saw who had arrived and ran the rest of the way. Burke laughed and swept her into a hug when she reached his side. She giggled at his embrace, kicking her feet when he lifted her high.

Then she clicked her tongue and framed his face in her hands, though she had to stand on her toes to do so. “You handsome rogue, ’tis too long since you have shared our company.” She kissed his cheeks three times.

Burke bowed deeply, pressing a kiss to her hand. “Lady Crevy, you look younger and more beautiful than ever.”

“Pshaw!” The lady blew out her lips at him with endearing familiarity. “You have not changed in the least little bit, always a drop of honey from your lips.” To Alys’s amazement, she reached up and pinched Burke’s cheeks with affection. “Have you brought a bride this time,
chevalier
? Truly, I despair of the two of you!”

Guillaume rolled his eyes at his mother’s comments and glanced over their party, his gaze lingering on Brigid.

Then Burke turned to smile at Alys and she forgot anything
else. “I have brought a lady,” he said quietly, a glow dawning in his eyes as he offered her his hand. Alys pushed back her hood, grateful that her bruise had all but disappeared, and smiled. “Might I present Lady Alys of Kiltorren? Alys, my friend Guillaume de Crevy and his mother, Lady Crevy. And Lady Alys’s cousin …”

Guillaume’s eyes widened. “Did you say Lady Alys?”

“
The
Alys?” his mother demanded, her gaze bright as she stepped closer.

To Alys’s amazement, Burke looked slightly discomfited. Indeed, there was a dull flush rising on the back of his neck. “You need not make such a fuss,” he began, but Guillaume hooted with laughter.

“ ’Tis her! ’Tis
the
Alys!” He clapped Burke on the back and stepped forward to offer Alys his aid in dismounting. “Forgive my manners, Lady Alys, but we had begun to doubt that this marvel of feminine virtue existed. Welcome, welcome to Chateau Crevy.”

When her feet were on the ground, Guillaume kissed her hand with a flourish. “I am very glad that you have seen fit to grace this knight with your company. Indeed, his lofty tales did not do justice to your beauty.”

Burke had told his friends of her?

Lady Crevy captured Alys’s hands with a firm grip and her eyes sparkled merrily. “Ah,
si belle
” she whispered with approval, then kissed Alys’s cheeks as she had Burke’s. “
Bienvenue,
Alys. As you may guess, we have heard much of you. ’Tis good to finally meet you.”

Guillaume winked. “Truly, Brother Burke’s moping grew tedious.”

Burke had moped in her absence? Impossible!

All the same, there was something so genuine about this pair that Alys could not have doubted them. They certainly regarded Burke with open affection, their teasing manner
making Alys conclude that they were both loyal friends and good company.

“You gild the lily, Guillaume,” Burke complained gruffly. “Alys has no desire to hear your empty flattery.”

His very manner gave credence to his friend’s claim. “But I should like to hear of this moping,” Alys said lightly. Burke shot her a dark look and she marvelled at his mood.

Guillaume could not hide his amusement as he glanced between the two of them. “He is not assured of his success as yet,” he confided to his mother, and that lady nodded agreement.

“Aye, and his legendary charm wins him naught.” She leaned forward and rapped a fingertip on Alys’s arm, her eyes sparkling. “I like a woman who knows her own value.” She indicated Burke with her thumb. “Indeed, ’tis good to see something not come readily to this one’s will.”

“Enough already!” Burke declared with rare impatience. “Must we linger in the bailey while you gossip about naught?”

“Naught?” Guillaume echoed and Burke averted his gaze. Their host knight did not move, his lips quirking with amusement. He leaned closer to Alys, his tone confidential. “Has he confessed to you the reason why we call him Brother Burke?”

“Guillaume!”

Alys shook her head, intrigued as much by Guillaume’s confession as Burke’s agitation. “He is no monk.”

Lady Crevy laughed. “Nay, indeed!” She shook a finger at Burke. “She has eyes in her head, your Alys.”

Burke folded his arms across his chest and looked doubly grim. ’Twas clear he did not believe he could halt his friend and equally clear that he did not like that fact.

Alys wondered what Guillaume knew that she did not.

“But Burke has been as chaste as a monk,” Guillaume supplied, his smile a merry one. “At least since the day three years past that he rode to tourney at one Castle Kiltorren.”

Alys blinked. Burke had been chaste? There must be some mistake!

“Three years?” she asked, her astonishment so evident that Lady Crevy laughed again.

“ ’Tis impossible,
non
! That this knight who could have any woman he chose—and more often than not,
did
choose—should avoid all women.” She smiled at Burke with affection. “Such is the power of
amour
,”

Burke’s complexion turned yet more ruddy. “I hardly think this is fitting conversation among ladies,” he said with a huff. “If you shall not see to the horses, then I shall be compelled to do so myself.”

“Aye, there was naught to be heard from him, save Alys this and Alys that,” Guillaume continued, apparently untroubled by Burke’s manner. “He regaled us with tales of Alys’s beauty, Alys’s sweet nature, Alys’s heavenly kisses. Indeed, there were nights he seemed determined to empty my cellars, bemoaning the absence of marvelous Alys.”

Could this be true? Burke cast a lethal glance at his old comrade and Alys could only conclude that he did not like having his amorous history—or its recent lack—paraded before her.

“He would look at no woman, and I confess that we began a small wager.” Guillaume winked at Alys. “We set every whore in Paris after him, and no small number of ambitious ladies, not to mention widows skilled in the arts of seduction.” He shrugged. “No result, save the lightening of my purse. Indeed, my own sister tried to tempt him on a dare, but without success. I must tell you that she was much put out by her failure, for Eglantine puts great stock in her charms.”

Burke exhaled mightily. “I shall see Moonshadow stabled while you recount such frivolity, for ’tis clear that you do not intend to see to customary measures of hospitality.” He
grasped the steed’s reins and strode off to the stables, the very image of male displeasure.

“You have embarrassed him,” Lady Crevy chided, her tone unrepentant. She turned a sparkling glance on Alys. “ ’Tis good for him,
non
?”

“And he will survive.” Guillaume squeezed Alys’s hand, dismissing Burke’s displeasure with a wave. “You cannot imagine what a delight ’tis to finally meet you,” he said, his gaze sincere. “Truly I am glad you two have found each other again. I know that you will be happy together.”

“Do not be fooled by your knight’s flattery,” Lady Crevy added with equal seriousness. “But one glance at his pride when he rode through these gates told me all I needed to know, for I have known Burke since he was a boy.” Lady Crevy patted Alys’s cheek with affection. “ ’Tis you he loves, Alys, and no other, and ’twill be thus for all his days.”

Alys glanced after the rapidly departing Burke and knew she had once again done him a disservice. She had believed his attention would be fleeting, when indeed he had remained committed to her all these years, even when they were apart. There had been no pledge between them—indeed, Burke thought himself declined—yet he had been faithful to her memory.

’Twas more, far more, than she could have expected.

But then Burke consistently was far more than Alys might expect. He always kept his pledge and if they exchanged vows, his commitment would only be more than it had been these last years in the absence of one.

’Twas true enough that matters might change between them in the years ahead, despite good intentions. But ’twas equally true that Alys could lose Burke simply because of her own fear of accepting what he offered. If she took no chance, there could be no gain—but taking that risk could grant her all her dreams came true.

Alys had more wits than to lose a dream, simply for failing to reach for it. She loved Burke. She would show him the truth of it by facing her deepest fear.

Alys would step directly into the error that her mother had made, the error that had wrought Alys’s life as it was, and she would put her trust in Burke to keep his pledge and make all come right in the end.

No lesser deed would do.

Brigid felt decidedly ill.

Her stomach rolled, though ’twas empty beyond all. The magnificence of Crevy wavered around her as if she saw it through a curtain of water.

“Well done,
Maman
” this friend of Burke’s declared to his mother after Alys excused herself and fled after Burke. “Am I wrong that you knew from the first who she was?”

“But one look at his face and I guessed the truth,” the older woman declared. “And Alys’s evident dismay when he flattered me told all too well what was awry. The poor
demoiselle
did not know to trust Burke.”

“But now ’tis fixed.” Brigid could hear the smile in Burke’s friend’s voice.

“ ’Twould have been fixed at some point, if I know our Burke,” his mother declared. “The man has a rare conviction.”

Brigid closed her eyes and felt herself sway in the saddle. She grasped at Edana but missed. All tipped dangerously and Brigid cried out as she felt herself slipping toward the ground.

“My lady!” Edana squealed, and snatched at her.

“My lady!” Cook bellowed, and Brigid heard his heavy footfall.

Then she fell.

But Brigid felt herself snatched out of the air and cradled against a masculine chest. To her surprise, she opened her
eyes to find that ’twas Burke’s friend who held her, not the cook. This knight’s dark eyes were filled with concern.

“Burke’s friend,” she murmured, as if that explained everything, and closed her eyes against the weakness coursing through her. She leaned her head against the knight’s shoulder because ’twas there and decided he had quite nice shoulders.

They were broad and strong.

“Aye, and a man devoid of manners,” he said ruefully. “I can only apologize for my failure to see you at ease, Lady … Lady …”

“She is Lady Brigid of Kiltorren, the cousin of Lady Alys,” Cook supplied, his voice close to Brigid. She could feel him hovering protectively. “She was taken ill on the ship, but I know that a good broth of chicken would do wonders to aid her recovery.”

“No fish,” Brigid insisted quietly. She thought the knight holding her laughed under his breath.

“No fish, my lady,” he agreed in an undertone. “You have my personal guarantee.”

Brigid opened her eyes at that to find the knight watching her. He had kindly eyes and he smiled slightly when she met his gaze.

Just the sight was fortifying. Brigid took a breath and tried to recall her manners. She waved vaguely at the keep surrounding them. “Your home is l-l-lovely. Thank you for welcoming us.”