Dragonblade Trilogy - 03 - The Savage Curtain (13 page)

He smiled faintly and held out a
hand to her. “Leave the fawn,” he said softly. “Come walk with me.”

Obediently, she handed the
bladder to the other serving woman, a very old woman with a fat rump.  Placing
her hand in Stephen’s open palm, she allowed him to pull her to her feet. 
Brushing off the cranberry wool, she held his hand as he took her out in to the
afternoon sunshine.

It was a bright day, sultry
again, as they walked in silence through the kitchen yard. Dogs barked and scattered
as Stephen took her into the main ward; around them, the day looked normal,
just like any other day at any other peaceful castle. It was amazing how two
days could change the feel of a place, from a blockaded, starving castle to one
that was knowing prosperity at the hands of the English.  Joselyn held
Stephen’s arm as they walked through the dust and flies.

“Although this was a forced
marriage for us both, I would hope that at some point we will both find it
pleasant,” he finally spoke. “And for it to be pleasant, we must insist on
total truth between us. Do you disagree?”

She paused and looked up at him;
her expression was one of disappointment. “Nay.”

She abruptly averted her gaze and
resuming their walk.  Stephen pulled her to a stop and forced her to face him.

“Then tell me why you seem sad,”
he commanded quietly.  “What is troubling you?”

She sighed heavily, shaking her
head and keeping her eyes lowered. “It is nothing, my lord, truly….”

“My lord, is it?” he shook her
gently. “I told you not to call me that.  I am your husband. My name is
Stephen. I would hear that from your lips always. Now, what is wrong?”

She tried to pull away, tried not
to look at him, but he would have none of it.  He suddenly pulled her tightly
against him, trapping her arms and towering over her. When she finally looked
up, it was into blazing cornflower blue eyes.

“Tell me,” he whispered.

She sighed again, more slowly
this time, thinking of how to phrase her thoughts. She knew of no other way
than to simply come out with it; if he wanted to know, she would tell him.  She
could only pray he didn’t think her foolish.

“You married me to form an
alliance with the rebellion,” she stated quietly.

He nodded. “Aye.”

She cocked her head slightly. “Is
that truly all you wish from this marriage? An alliance and a pleasant
existence?”

His brow furrowed slightly as he
studied her magnificent face. “It is as good a start as any.  Why does this
concern you?”

She lowered her eyes again,
thinking that she was coming to sound idiotic. “It does not,” she took a deep
breath and tried to put her feelings into words. “I suppose it is as good as we
can hope for considering neither of us wanted to marry and until two days ago,
we were bitter enemies. But since yesterday, you have been so overwhelmingly
kind to me that I thought… well, at least I had hoped that perhaps there would
be more to our marriage than simply pleasantries. I know it seems silly, but I
have heard of marriages where people are actually quite fond of one another and
I was hoping….”

She trailed off, unable to
continue, thinking that perhaps she sounded like a complete fool. But Stephen’s
cornflower blue eyes glimmered at her, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“You were hoping ours would be
one of those?” he finished quietly for her.

She nodded, once. “I know it is
silly,” she said quickly. “I do not mean to place more expectation on this
marriage than what goes beyond normal boundaries, so I apologize if I sound
like a silly dreamer. I suppose I am. I never thought I would be married much
less marry a man who is inordinately kind, so I suppose I am letting my silly
feminine thoughts run away with me. You have brought out an unexpected romantic
side of me that I never knew existed. Please forgive me.”

He chuckled and his arms tightened
around her slender body. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips against the top of
her head as he pulled her closer. “If you have not already figured out that I
am quite fond of you, then you are more naïve than I suspected. Already I think
of you every moment when I should be focused on securing a very volatile city. 
Although it is true that the original purpose of this marriage was to secure an
alliance, that factor has quickly become the very least purpose of this
marriage.   When I look at you, I see joy and purpose in life. I see a reason
to get up every morning and a reason to fight for a peaceful world. I see a son
not yet born with your sensibilities and my strength. I see a life I never
imagined I would have.  Can you not sense this?”

She was looking up at him by now,
her eyes glimmering with unshed tears. “Nay,” she whispered. “I have only known
you for two days. I have not yet developed my wifely mind-reading skills.”

He laughed softly and kissed her
on the forehead, embracing her sweetly in the middle of the busy bailey.  For
all they were aware, they were the only two people in the entire world. Nothing
else mattered at the moment as new feelings and new sensations rained upon
them.  For the sequestered, humiliated woman and the closed-off knight, an
unexpected world of joy had opened wide before them.

“There is something else that has
been on my mind,” Stephen murmured, his lips against her forehead. “Last night,
you seemed the only one relaying apologies for your behavior when we were first
introduced.”

She pulled back to look at him.
“I did. What makes you say such a thing?”

His expression was gentle,
remorseful. “I should be apologizing, also. Although I was not attempting to be
deliberately unkind, my behavior was rather harsh.” He rubbed her upper arms
gently, affectionately. “When you first told me of the attack against you, I
told you that I did not believe you. I must apologize for that statement; it
was wrong of me.”

She looked curiously at him.
“But… you have told me that you will make all attempts to locate this man and
punish him. I knew you believed me simply by your actions. There is no need to
apologize.”

He shrugged weakly. “Perhaps not,
but I would just the same. Last night when I saw the proof of the birth, it
made me realize without a doubt that you had not lied. I am truly sorry I was
so cruel.  I pray you can forgive me.”

She smiled faintly. “No need,
Stephen. Those first few hours of our acquaintance have faded into memory. I
hardly remember them.”

He snorted softly, his gaze
drinking in the beauty of her face.   Then he pulled her into his arms once
more, crushing her with his power. “I am already quite fond of you,” he
repeated, his lips on her forehead. “I do not expect that my feelings will end
there.”

She reached up and threw her arms
around his neck, relishing in the power of the man as he picked her up off her
feet and held her close.  Although there was a coat of mail between them, she
could still feel his warmth.  She imagined she could feel his passion as well.

“As I am quite fond of you also,”
she murmured, her lips against his ear.  “Now, put me down before we create a
firestorm for the gossips.”

He laughed softly and set her
feet. “Let them talk,” he insisted. “It would be one measure of gossip I would
be proud to be a part of.”

She grinned and he kissed her, so
deeply that she had to pull away or suffocate.  With a smile, he kissed her
nose, both cheeks, and gently released her. Taking her hand, he began to walk
with her towards the keep.

“Now, what was I telling you
before you so righteously distracted me?” he winked at her when she scowled.
“Oh, yes; I was telling you that I needed to make my rounds of the city today. 
I will also be busy with other tasks so I would ask that you stay to either the
great hall or our chamber. I would advise against wandering to the river as you
did yesterday.”

“But what of the fawn? He will
need to run and play.”

“Let him run and play in the
kitchen yard. You do not need to take him beyond the walls.”

She nodded, though not entirely pleased. 
“Very well.”

 They had reached the keep and he
paused, turning to face her. For a moment, he simply gazed at her, surely the
loveliest creature he had ever seen.  And she belonged to him; it was a
satisfying thought.

“Now,” he put his hands on his
hips. “I must go to the armory and then attend some business here on the
grounds before riding out into the city.  Do you require anything before I go?”

She shook her head. “Not really,”
she said. “But I do have a question before you leave.”

“And that would be?”

She shielded her pale blue eyes
from the sun overhead as she spoke. “Perhaps this is not the right time to ask,
but I was wondering about my mother,” she said softly. “I was wondering when we
are going to send her to Allanton for burial.”

“Allanton?” he repeated.

“My family’s home to the north.”

His expression softened. “She
will have to be buried at Berwick, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “I cannot
spare the men or time to send her back home. I am sorry.”

 She nodded as if to accept his
statement but he could tell that it distressed her. “My father would have liked
her to be sent home, I am sure,” she tried not to sound demanding. “Do you
suppose that someday we can send her home? If not now, then some day?”

He gave her a crooked smile. “I
shall take her myself if it pleases you.  But for now, I will arrange to have
interred in Berwick’s vaults. Fair enough?”

She nodded, forcing a weak smile.
“Fair enough.”

“Good.” He bent down and kissed
her sweetly on the forehead. “I shall see you tonight.”

Her smile turned genuine as she
watched him walk away, the biggest man she had ever seen. But even for all his
incredible height, there was nothing out of proportion or strange about the
man; he was perfectly formed, in every way.  Her heart fluttered as he walked
out of sight and she found herself sighing faintly when he was no longer before
her eyes but just a sweet, lingering memory. 

He was quite a man, English or
no.

***

The surcoats that Stephen had
purchased for his new wife had nary a scent of smoke once they were washed and
dried in the sun.  The serving women pressed the garments to crisp perfection
and Joselyn had the unexpected treat of trying each one on so the women could
hem the bottom.   Some of the garments were so long that the serving women cut
several inches of the bottom, stitching up the extra material with colored
thread and creating lovely ribbons for Joselyn’s hair.

Having spent half her life in
rough woolen garments, the thrill of new clothing was almost more than she
could stand.  These were well-made garments produced from the most wonderful
fabric Joselyn had ever seen. White, dark blue, deep orange, two different
shades of green, a soft yellow, a rose color and finally a brocade pattern that
had crimson, gold and blue rounded out the expensive booty she had acquired. 
Joselyn was giddy with delight as she tried each one, vowing with each
successive garment that it was the most beautiful one she had ever seen. Nay;
this
was the most beautiful one she had ever seen.  On and on it went until the deep
orange silk was finally finished and she was able to exchange it for the
cranberry wool.  With a long-sleeved, silken shift beneath, the orange silk was
cool and swishy and delightful to wear in the warm weather.   The wimpled
serving woman tied a white ribbon around her waist, as a belt, and Joselyn had
never in her life felt more beautiful.  The contrast of the dark orange against
her striking coloring was stunning.  

“Ye look lovely, Jo-Jo,” the
wimpled woman said with satisfaction. “I have never seen such beauty.”

Joselyn spun in circles, watching
the bottom of the surcoat bell. “Thank you, Tilda,” she said. “I have never
seen anything like it.”

Tilda watched Joselyn fuss with
the ribbon around her waist.  She had known the eldest Seton since she had been
born and she knew well the tragic life the young woman had led.  There had been
a long period of time when Joselyn was at Jedburgh, but she had returned early
last year to tend her increasingly senile mother.  She had known little happiness
and to see her so radiant did the old woman’s heart good.

“Yer new husband is generous,”
Tilda ventured. “I have heard the men talking; they say he is a good man.”

Joselyn nodded, smoothing her
hands over the orange material. “Sir Stephen has been very kind to me,” she
answered, casting the wimpled woman a side-long glance. “He has tried to be a
good husband and do what is right.”

“He is very tall,” the wimpled
woman said helpfully.

“Tall and big,” the other old
woman cackled from her stool in the corner. “He’s the biggest man I have ever
seen, saints have mercy!”

Joselyn grinned. “He is gentle
and kind, Mereld,” she told the skittish old woman. “He is nothing to fear.”

But the older woman turned on
her. “How can ye say such things?” she demanded. “He killed yer brothers,
Jo-Jo. Does that not mean anything to ye or are ye so blinded by his beauty
that ye forget what he’s done?”