Fairest Of Them All (35 page)

Austyn would have known her voice anywhere— rich, melodious, slightly mocking. “ Twas all I asked, Austyn of Gavenmore. That you put your faith in the constancy of a woman’s heart.”

The vision wavered, but before it could fade into obscurity, Austyn found himself gazing into the forgiving eyes of his mother. His heart swelled with gratitude at the generous and unexpected gift

The ethereal halo of light vanished, restoring the mundane gloom of crumbling stone and mortar dust A flea-bitten mouse sat up on its hind legs, sniffing the air where Rhiannon had disappeared.

Austyn and Holly exchanged a wondering glance.

“You were truly cursed,” she whispered, as if the Welsh faerie might still be eavesdropping.

“Aye.” He traced the curve of her cheek with one reverent finger. “But thanks to you and your unwavering faith in me, my lady, now I am truly blessed.”

Holly flung herself into his arms with a sob of joy. Austyn gathered her against him, squeezing his eyes shut against a rush of raw emotion. As their lips met, the air resounded with a flourish of trumpets.

Twas a dazed eternity of bliss before either of them realized the trumpets’ fanfare was no celestial celebration of their love, but a call to war.

The glade below rang with angry shouts and threats of impending chaos. Still hand in hand, Austyn and Holly shot to their knees and peeped over the window ledge.

Two armies poured into the clearing from opposite directions, sending de Leggefs henchmen scattering like rats into the shadowy forest

From the east rode a mammoth company of knights, their banners rippling in splashes of saffron and purple, their shiny plate armor glinting in the sun. At the head of their precise formation sat a squat figure on a magnificent gray stallion, proudly bearing the Tewksbury standard.

Holly bounced up and down with excitement. “ Tis my papa come to rescue me!”

“He might have spared a decade from my life had he come with a bit more haste and a bit less pomp,” Austyn muttered, squeezing her hand.

From the west came a motley group of men mounted on sturdy plow horses, drooping nags, and lathered donkeys. They were armed with naught but rusty hoes, tattered brooms, and smithy hammers, yet their stern Welsh visages looked no less determined than the faces of their English counterparts. Their general was none other than a Mr-haired Viking who drooped over the pommel of his saddle like a withered daffodil, his ribs bandaged and his left arm supported by a makeshift sling.

“Damn his obstinate hide!” Austyn exclaimed. “Emrys promised he’d lock him up to keep him from following me.”

“Would that be Emrys there just behind him? My goodness, his head is nearly as shiny as my papa’s armor.” Holly pointed. “And look, there’s Winifred beating on a kettle with an iron spoon. What a splendid Amazon she would have made!”

The two armies met in the center of the glade, showing dangerous signs of clashing.

Austyn sighed. ‘We’d best get down there before they annihilate each other for the common good.” Ignoring Holly’s squeal of protest, he swept her into his arms. “
Ill
be afraid to put you down for fear someone else will carry you off.”

She twined a tendril of his hair around her finger, secretly delighted. “Now that you’ve proved your faith in me, sir, you shall never again be plagued by jealousy.”

He stepped over de Leggef s body without a second glance and gave her a devilish wink. “Rhiannon never promised that”

“She’s my daughter! I shall lead the charge into the tower!” the earl of Tewksbury was bellowing when Austyn carried Holly from the castle, a beaming El-speth trotting at his heels.

“like hell you will,” Carey shouted back, his words still slurred by the various indignities suffered by his lips. “She’s my lady!
Ill
lead the charge.”

“Charge, ha! You can barely walk.”

Austyn tapped the earl on the shoulder.

He turned around and thundered, “Not now, lad. Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Austyn waited patiently for him to swing around the second time. His beady little eyes broadened at the sight of his daughter in Austyn’s arms.

“Baby!” he cried, an angelic smile wreathing his dwarfish face. “My precious little baby!”

Holly squirmed in mingled delight and embarrassment as he threw his arms around her and smothered her face with kisses. Austyn demonstrated absolutely no desire to relinquish her to her father’s arms. Holly feared if either one of them loved her any more staunchly, she would have been tugged in two.

“How did you know, Papa?” she asked, settling back in Austyn’s arms to pat his weathered cheek. “How did you know I needed you?”

The company of knights parted to reveal a litter borne by four grumbling foot soldiers. Its occupant struggled to a sitting position, clutching a heavily bandaged chest “ Twas I who told him.”

“Nathanael!” Holly breathed. “Good God, I thought you were dead.”

“So did I.” He held up a heavy chain. “But it seems my crucifix deflected the worst of the blow.” He grinned sheepishly. “I hope I didn’t scare you too badly. I must have fainted from the pain.” At a snicker from one of the foot soldiers, he snapped, “Well, it was quite intolerable.”

Her father glowered at the priest “We’d have been here sooner had he not led us on such a merry chase. We were halfway to Scotland before we realized we were heading the wrong way.”

“Now, sir, you know I’ve a deplorable sense of direction.” Nathanael’s eyes darkened as he lifted them to the tower. “The baron?”

“Hell not trouble anyone again,” Austyn said firmly.

Both the earl and Nathanael nodded their approval while Carey limped over to slap Austyn on the back.

The earl’s gaze traveled from Holly’s face to Aus-tyn’s. “Come, child,” he said in a voice that brooked no disobedience. “ Tis time to get you home.”

Holly twined her arms around her husband’s neck and rested her head on his shoulder, giving her father the reassurance he sought “I am home, Papa”

Austyn kissed her hair. “Let’s not be so hasty to spurn your father’s invitation. A sound nighf s rest in a fluffy feather bed might be just the thing.” The flash of his dimple warned her that a sound nighf s rest was the furthest thought from his mind.

“Sounds good to me,” Carey mumbled, rubbing his ribs.

“Me, too,” said Nathanael, reclining on the litter.

But as Austyn sought to pass, the priest*s hand shot out to capture Holly’s arm. Holly felt Austyn teiise, but the wistful shadow in Nathanael’s eyes was brightened by his sheepish smile. “I hope you’ll allow me to bestow my heartfelt blessing ... upon the both of you.”

As Austyn carried HoDy toward his destrier with both her father’s and the priest’s blessing, he nuzzled her ear and whispered, “Perhaps tonight will give you time to get reacquainted with a friend of mine. A certain Master Longstaff who is only too eager to seek redress for a rather unkind slur you’ve cast upon his honor.”

“I can assure you I’m more than willing to soothe the saucy fellow’s vanity,” she whispered back.

At her chiming laughter, a flushed young knight slid back the faceplate of his helm, hefted his lance in salute and shouted, “To Lady Holly, who possesses the fairest face in all of England!”

The rousing cheer that went up was stifled mid-note by the sweeping look Austyn leveled on the crowd. Holly’s breath caught as his gaze lowered to caress her face with irresistible tenderness.

‘To Lady Holly,” he proclaimed, his rich voice tolling like a bell in the crystalline silence, “who possesses the fairest heart in all of England.”

That heart overflowed with love as Holly welcomed her husband’s kiss.

This time there was no quelling the exultant roar that resounded through the forest as Welsh and English voices united in tribute. As Austyn swept Holly in front of him on the destrier, a joyous fanfare rippled through the air, leaving the heralds staring dumbfounded at the shiny horns hanging limp from their hands.

“Holly Felicia Bernadette de Chastel!”

Holly hid her smile behind the tiny coif she was embroidering as her husband came stalking across the meadow. His handsome face was set in a fierce scowl, but he might have looked even more intimidating were it not for the three-year-old who had secured her perch on her papa’s massive shoulders by tugging at his ears.

He stopped at the edge of the blanket to avoid trampling his infant daughter, who slept in a basket with her thumb nestled between her cherubic lips, and dangled a sheaf of parchment in front of Holly’s eyes. “Do you know what this is?”

Laying her embroidery aside, Holly absently twirled an ebony curl belonging to the six-year-old napping in her lap. “A letter from the Baron of Gloucester,” she speculated. “Ruminations on the weather. A snippet of gossip about the king’s mistress. Complaints about the size of his goiter . . .”

Austyn snapped open the missive, but had to pry his daughter’s hands away from his eyes before he could read it “ ‘Don’t think me impertinent, Gaven-more,’” he read, “ “but it has come to my attention on more than one occasion that your eldest would make a suitable bride for a lonely widower such as myself.’ A lonely widower indeed! A desperate old lech, he means!” Austyn wadded the letter into a ball, growling beneath his breath.

His daughter batted gleefully at his hair. “Papa’s a big ole growly bear!”

“Papa’s not a growly bear, Gwynnie. Since the king restored his title, he’s a growly earl.” He gently disengaged her from his shoulders and sent her off to toddle in the grass with a pat on the rump before sinking down beside Holly on the blanket His expression was bleak. “If s starting already, isn’t it? I thought we’d have a few more years of peace.”

Holly leaned her head against his shoulder. “ Twas inevitable, you know. Why Felicia and Berna-dette are nearly eight”

Austyn frowned. “Where are the twins today?”

“They’re off with their uncle Carey, learning how to shoot a bow.”

Austyn shuddered. “I hope he wore his padded hauberk.”

“I’m sure he did. I think he learned his lesson when they dropped the tub of poppies on his head. I’ve not seen him without his helm since. And then there was that little incident when they burned down the north tower while roasting chestnuts on the hearth.”

Austyn shook his head. “I never have figured out how that sheet got stuffed up the chimney . . .”

Holly bit off a piece of thread and murmured something noncommittal. She much preferred the spacious solar Austyn had built in place of the tower. A solar whose door was never locked unless they wished to steal a few precious hours of privacy away from the inquisitive eyes of their offspring.

Austyn ruffled his sleeping daughter’s hair, then ran a finger along the baby’s downy cheek. “They’re all so beautiful.”

Where once there would have been despair in his voice, now there was only pride and a perpetual sense of wonder that their love had brought such grace into the world. Even Austyn’s father had shared a brief taste of it After tenderly cradling his first granddaughter in his arms, Rhys of Gavenmore had died quietly in his sleep. He now rested beneath a blanket of anemones at his wife’s side, at peace at last.

Holly reached up to caress the tendrils of silver at her husband’s temples, thinking as she always did how very striking they were. “I fear that in the next few years you’re going to come to learn that there are more vexing trials than possessing a comely wife. Such as fending off the suitors of six lovely daughters. I hope you don’t fancy yourself still cursed.”

Austyn drew her into the warm circle of his arms. “You and the girls will always be my dearest blessing.”

He brushed her lips with his, igniting the passion that still flared so quick and bright between them.

The thunder of hoofbeats disturbed their tender reverie.

“Oh, Austyn, you didn’t!” Holly exclaimed as the fully armored rider approached, the celestial turrets and graceful arches of the newly completed castle providing the perfect backdrop for the dainty warrior.

He shrugged, bestowing upon her one of those crooked smiles she never could resist “Your father donated the armor, but it had occurred to me that one of our daughters should be able to fend off her own suitors.”

The lithe rider brought the horse to a prancing halt, then reached up and dragged off her helm, sending a torrent of raven curls cascading down her back.

An impish giggle bubbled from her lips. “I saw you kissing Papa, Mama. How disgusting!” She tilted her pert nose in the air, sniffing with disdain. “I shall never bestow my kisses on any unworthy man.”

Austyn grinned. “That’s my girl.”

Holly pinched him.

The rider wheeled the horse around and urged it into a canter. Wrapped in each other’s loving embrace, Austyn and Holly shook their heads in wry wonderment as they watched her gallop fearlessly around the outskirts of the curtain wall encompassing their home.

She had inherited her mother’s grace and sense of mischief along with her father’s jousting skills and stubborn courage. Several minstrels and a handful of poets had already pronounced the dark-haired, blue-eyed sprite the fairest lady in all of England. Holly was only too eager to relinquish the title to her beloved eldest daughter, who had been conceived twelve years ago in one of the softest, fluffiest feather beds at Tewksbury ...

Lady Ivy of Gavenmore!