The White Lord of Wellesbourne (35 page)

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Authors: Kathryn le Veque

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BOOK: The White Lord of Wellesbourne
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But she did not feel too sorry
for herself. As she nursed her wine, servants descended on their table and
adorned it with all manner of succulent food. A roast bird was the high light,
set in the middle of the table and festooned with glorious feathers to simulate
that it was still a living bird.  Luke and John immediately plowed into the
fowl and destroyed the careful decorations before Alixandrea could get a good
look at the artwork.  John plopped a leg on her trencher and thought he was
doing a splendid job of playing host.  She smiled her thanks and took a helping
of the boiled apples.

Plate full, she looked to her
husband, still on the dais talking to the king, to patiently wait for his
return.  After several minutes, it was clear that he was not returning any time
soon so she decided to eat before her food cooled.  In the gallery, a group of
minstrels began to play, filling the warm, smoky hall with music.  In all, it
seemed to be settling down into a glorious evening.  She only wished she could
have enjoyed it more with Matthew.

Out of the corner of her eye, she
caught sight of Mark, Caroline, and an unidentified woman entering the hall. It
did not matter that they were late; she was glad to see them and waved. But
Mark did not see her and she elbowed John so that the young man could catch
their attention.

Finally, Mark noticed them and
headed in their direction. Caroline and the mystery woman followed. The closer
they came, the more Mark seemed to be intently searching for someone. He
ignored the Wellesbourne table completely.  That wasn’t unusual in itself, but
Caroline’s expression seemed to be; Alixandrea noticed that the woman hadn’t
looked at her once. She and the unknown woman held each other by the arms,
pacing after Mark.  As the group neared the table, Mark located Matthew on the
dais and apparently found who he was looking for.  He went straight for the
platform and the women followed.

Alixandrea watched curiously as
Mark addressed Matthew, who turned from the king to face his brother. But what
she wasn’t prepared for was the expression on Matthew’s face; his eyes widened,
then hardened, and his entire face seemed to tense.  She could not hear the
words being spoken, but she could tell by his expression that he clearly was
unhappy.  Alixandrea put her knife down and stopped eating; she wondered what
had Matthew so upset.  After a few exchanges, Mark, Caroline, and the nameless
woman left the hall.  Matthew watched them go. Then he looked at Alixandrea.

She was gazing up at him with
those great bronze eyes. Matthew suspected she had seen everything; from her
expression, he could tell that she had. Struggling for composure, he went back
to their table and took his seat beside her. Before she could ask questions, he
picked up the wine pitcher.

“More wine, love?” he asked even
as he poured into her cup.

“Where did Mark and Caroline go?”
she asked the obvious. “Why did they not stay?”

Matthew set the pitcher down and
reached for a side of bird. “Caroline is not feeling well.”

Alixandrea did not believe him;
moreover, there was something strange in his manner. Odd suspicion crept into
her veins, intangible yet unmistakable. “She looked fine,” she said slowly,
watching his features for any reaction. “Did you have sharp words with Mark
again?”

Matthew had a mouthful. “Nay.”

He was being evasive and it
inflamed her. He had barely spoken to her all night and now he was being
ambiguous.  She turned back to her plate, though she did not eat. Matthew was
fully into his meal before he noticed that she was not partaking.

“What’s wrong?’ he asked. “Why
are you not eating?”

She looked away from him. “I am
not hungry.”

He studied her, noting her body
language, sensing she was miffed.  He swallowed the food in his mouth.

“What is the matter?” he asked,
more softly.

“Nothing.”

The room around them was full of
food, fragrance, conversation and music. But it all ceased to exist as Matthew
focused on his wife’s crisp manner. The mood was bad between them and he did
not like it.  He felt responsible somehow, uncertain. When he should not have
cared, he found that he did, very much.  He abruptly stood up and collected her
wrap.

“If you are not hungry, then I
shall escort you back to our apartment.”

Furious for reasons she did not
quite understand, she stood up, accepted the wrap, and allowed him to take her
from the hall.  Something was building in her veins and she was unsteady with
it. The moment they left the White Tower and entered the cool, dark yard,
Matthew spoke.

“I will say something here and
now, madam,” his voice was a rumble. “If this is to be a successful marriage,
then there must be total truth between us. You are obviously upset over
something and I would know what it is.”

She came to a halt, facing him.
Her lovely face was taut. “How dare you lecture me on truth. You did not tell
me the truth when I asked you if you and Mark had exchanged more harsh words.”

He cleared his throat. “We did
not exchange harsh words. We.…”

She turned on her heel and began
to march away. But Matthew lashed out and grabbed her arm, snapping her back
against him. He held her fast, his face looming menacingly above her own. For
the first time, Alixandrea could see the deadly warrior in him. This was the
man that all men feared.  It was harsh and terrifying.

“You will never walk away from me
in anger,” he growled. “Is that clear?”

“Or what?” she asked. “Will you
unleash your deadly power on me as you would an enemy?”

He stared at her, his eyes
narrowing.  She could see that he was genuinely baffled. “What have I done to
make you so angry with me?”

It all came spilling out. “You
must ask this question? You ignore me all evening and when I ask you why Mark
and Caroline do not stay, you are deliberately evasive with me. What am I to
you, Matthew? Just a pretty woman on your arm, a wife in name and body only, or
do you intend to make me a confidant and companion as well? Tell me now,
husband, so that the next time you parade me around for show, I will know that
it is only for show and not because I have your true love, respect and intimate
trust.  Tell me now what you truly expect of me so that I will not ask
questions in the future that you have no intention of answering.”

His gaze lingered on her.  The
grip on her arms loosened and she pulled away when she thought she could get
away with it.  She heard him sigh heavily.

“I expect you to be my wife.”

“What does that mean?”

“Precisely that. I told you that
I loved you; wasn’t that enough?”

She thought she could respond
with confidence and maintain her composure. But his simple words had her heart
breaking and she broke into quiet tears.  Matthew could not stand to see her
weep and he went to her, standing so close that he could smell her.

“What have I said?” he begged
softly. “What have I done now?”

She sobbed into her hand. “I do
not want to be a wife in name and body only,” she wept. “Forgive me, but I want
to be the person closest to you in every way. I want to know your thoughts,
your fears, your hopes, and your dreams. If I ask you a question, I want the
respect of an honest answer without hesitation. I want to be a part of you,
Matthew, as you are indelibly a part of me. I would deny you nothing. I want to
be all to you as you are all to me. To tell me that you love me is not enough.
It is not enough at all.”

He put his arms around her,
willing to take the chance that she would resist him.  But she did not,
collapsing against him and pressing her sweet body close. He rested his chin on
the top of her head, feeling her soft and heaving flesh in his embrace.

“It is you who must forgive me,”
he whispered. “This is all so very new to me. I have not the experience in this
territory to know enough to plot a smooth path. To tell you of my love for you
was the biggest step I have ever taken, but I suppose that I do understand it
is not enough. There is so much more. I would tell you my dreams and hopes and
fears, but you must be patient with me. There may be times when it does not
occur to me to do so out of sheer ignorance. And if I do not tell you something,
perhaps it is because I am trying to spare you. You have very quickly become my
all for living and I pray that you forgive my ineptness in showing it.  I will
endeavor to do much, much better if you will only make gracious allowances,
madam. You are far wiser in these matters than I.”

She looked up at him, her cheeks
wet with tears. As always, Matthew knew the right thing to say. It was becoming
a habit with him. 

“I am not wiser,” she sniffled.
“Perhaps I want too much, what you cannot give.”

“I will give you whatever you
want, I swear it.”

She smiled wanly and he wiped her
cheeks with his thumbs, kissing the moisture away from her wet eyes.

  “Now tell me the truth,” she
said quietly. “Why did Mark and Caroline leave?”

The warmth in his eyes faltered.
“Because I asked them to.”

“Why?”

There was no way around it. He
had to tell her if there was ever any hope of having the marriage they both
seemed so badly to want. “I was attempting to spare you, love.”

“Spare me what?”

He swallowed hard; she saw him.
“The woman with them is Lady Caroline’s cousin.”

It meant nothing to her. “And?”

He seemed to hesitate.
“Caroline’s cousin is Lady Mena.”

At first, it did not register.
Her gaze remained steady. Then, her eyes widened and he could see the naked
struggle within her not to react. It was a difficult task. But she held herself
admirably in possession of knowledge that, had the situation had been reversed,
he might not have held so steady.  He admired her control greatly.

“I… I did not get a good look at
her,” she said evenly. “Caroline never mentioned that Mena was her cousin.”

“Perhaps because she did not feel
it was her place. That should have come from me and it never seemed to be the
right time to bring it up.”

“I see,” Alixandrea’s jaw flexed.
“Did you know she would be here tonight?”

He shook his head. “I have not
seen her in almost ten years. I had no knowledge that she would be here.  The
last I heard, she had married and moved to Bath.”

She believed him.  Matthew was
not the lying kind.  Taking a deep breath to steady her composure, she forced a
smile. “Then you should have asked them to join us.  Since you thought so
highly of her, I would be delighted to meet her.”

He gazed down at her, a finger
coming up to stroke her cheek, her chin, and finally her lips. When he was
unsatisfied with his finger on her mouth, leaned down and kissed her.

“Perhaps you shall,” he murmured
against her mouth, “for certainly, I would be proud to introduce you.”

They embraced in the darkness,
enjoying the continued discovery of one another. Alixandrea realized that their
infant relationship had already suffered several issues that could have greatly
upset another couple, one less durable. But they seemed to work through the
matter and grow stronger with it.  As long as they were willing to talk, and as
long as they held each other in such regard, she was confident their
progression would continue.

As they wandered back to their
apartment for the night, eyes were watching them from the shadows. It was a
single figure, large, that had no other intention other than to observe for the
moment. 

La Londe would wait to make his
move.

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

Alixandrea sat with her hands
over her face, terrified to peer out of her splayed fingers. Alone in the lists
at the tournament field about a mile to the west of the Tower of London, she
was supposed to be watching Matthew practice. But she hadn’t been able to
summon the courage to do so.  Every time he garnered a starting position along
the guide of the joust rail, she would cover her eyes and lower her head.

Matthew made three passes against
John without incident to either one. He was well aware of what his wife was
doing. It only made him grin. After the third pass, he directed his massive
charger up against the lists.

“Alix,” he admonished softly.
“Take your hands from your eyes, love. Look at me.”

She did, blessing him with a
radiant smile. He laughed at her. “What are you doing?”

She grimaced. “I am watching you
practice.”

“Nay, you are not.”

“Trust me, I can see everything.”

He just shook his head, still
laughing. “I do not know how that is possible, considering every time I have
seen you it has been with your hands pressed so tightly to your face that you
must surely be losing circulation.”

She started to laugh. “I told you
that the joust frightens me.”

“If this gentle game upsets you
so, how are you going to react when you see me compete in the mêlée? That can
be even bloodier.”

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