Medieval Ever After (14 page)

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 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 simple 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 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. “I do not expect that my feelings will end there.”

She reached up and threw her arms around his neck, relishing 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 whispered pressing her lips against his ear. “Now, put me down before we create a firestorm for the gossips.”

He laughed softly and set her on 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 her 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 off 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 on 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 sidelong 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?”

“Bite your tongue, you old fool,” Joselyn snapped, her happy mood vanished. “He did not kill Thomas or William. He had no part in that.”

The old woman stood up from her mending stool, hands full of strips of material that she was turning into ribbon. “Did ye ask him?”

Joselyn scowled. “Nay, I did not. But we spoke of Thomas and he would have told me had he had a hand in his death. He has been honest with me from the start.”

“How do ye know?”

Joselyn growled and turned away from the old woman. She tended to be a naysayer even in the best of times but Joselyn was in no mood for her dour views. Moreover, she realized that she felt very protective of Stephen.

“I will not hear you disparage him, do you hear?” she scolded. “He has been very good and generous to me. He has even told me that he will bring the English soldier who raped me to justice. Stephen says he will find him and I believe him.”

Old Mereld could see that her young lady was upset and didn’t push further. The subject of Lady Joselyn’s rape was something that no one talked about. It was a dark family secret that went deeper than they would dare acknowledge. The old woman had been present when a very young Joselyn had delivered the large male child that had nearly killed her. It had been a horrific birth and the old woman remembered praying continuously as Joselyn, only twelve years old at the time, had moaned and cried through three days of labor. It had been terrible for all of them and something they never discussed.