Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 02 (17 page)

“Consider it done.” Reaching for her hand, Albin changed the subject. “It pleases me to see you so carefree.” 

“It is all your doing, Albin.” She studied their joined hands. “I have not felt this way since before I can remember.”

Winifred opened the door to allow Anne to precede her.

“I hope you both enjoy fish.” Setting wood planks before them, she stepped back with a smile. “William is quite adept at setting snares in the river.”

“It has been quite some time since I had it last.” Smelling the appetizing aroma wafting from the flaky seasoned fish and vegetables, Lecie looked up with a grateful smile. “You have made this a most special day. Thank you.”

Holding her hands out, Winifred bowed slightly. “Enjoy.”

Once they were alone again, Lecie took a bite of the fish and marveled at Winifred’s skill to create such appetizing dishes with so few ingredients.

“You promised to tell me more about your family, Albin.”

Taking a long swallow of ale, Albin set his cup down. “There is nothing of much note to tell,” he admitted.  “Since I was not born first, I held little value in the eyes of my father. Not that I minded, he was cruel and often beat my mother for the slightest offense. If he did it in front of me, I would intercede only to have him beat me for defying him.”

Lecie laid her dinner knife beside her plank, no longer hungry. “I am so sorry.”

“Do not be sad on my behalf, lass.” Albin continued to eat. “Shortly after my brother Glenbard sided with Clito against King Henry and fled the country, my mother fell ill and succumbed to her illness. I have no doubt she is at peace. She is finally safe from him at any rate.”

When he grew silent, she reached to touch the back of his hand. “What happened after the passing of your mother?”

Focused on their joined hands, Albin shrugged. “I made myself blend in with the background until Fulke lost his entire family in a fire. When it was agreed by the village elders that he would be sent to foster with Sir Hewett in a neighboring fiefdom, I convinced my father to allow me to go with him.”

“How did you convince him?” Brushing a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand, Lecie hoped he did not see it.

Meeting her tender gaze, he smiled bitterly. “I told him he would never hear from me again if he let me go.”

“Albin,” she breathed. “I cannot bear to think of how much that must have hurt you.”

“It ended well,” he replied brushing it off with the wave of a hand. “Sir Hewett became more of a father to me than my own ever was, and I have always considered Fulke to be my one true brother.”

“Then I am glad you found each other early on in life.”

“As am I,” Albin admitted. “Sometimes I think Fulke knows me better than I know myself.”

“How so?”

Finished eating, Albin leaned back in his chair to admire her. “He knew of my feelings for you even as I struggled to conceal them.”

“I would have to believe he knew of mine for you as well. Often enough I asked after you when you did not journey to Rochester with him.” Averting her gaze, she studied the dark beyond the garden. “He believed me to be married as well, did he not?”

“Aye,” Albin acknowledged with a somber expression. “How could we have…”

“It is not important,” Lecie interrupted. “All that matters, is you now know the truth and in turn, his lordship will as well.”

“He shall be learning it soon enough. I am due to update him on the progress on the tower soon.”

“I hope I have not kept you from your duty to his lordship.” A crease of worry marred Lecie’s smooth brow. “I know it is a matter of great import to the king.”

“Do not fret yourself, lass. Between Talan and me, the matter is being dutifully seen to on our liege’s behalf.”

“Baron Erlegh must be very happy to remain home for so long,” she observed.

“Aye, he is. It would take more than a mere tower’s construction to force Fulke from Castell Maen these days,” Albin replied with a grin. “A happier man I have yet to meet.”

“Excluding you of course,” she teased.

“That goes without saying.” Albin’s dark eyes glittered in the moonlight as he reached to take her hand. “No man alive is happier than I.”

Suddenly breathless, Lecie’s hand trembled in his. “What is the babe’s name?”

Albin chuckled at her nervousness as he gently squeezed her fingers. “Her ladyship Reina and my liege named her Catrain Malina, in memory of their mothers. Young Warin called her Raine one day and the nickname stuck.”

“You miss her,” Lecie observed without a trace of jealousy. 

“Aye, she is a wee little thing and is bound to be twice the size next I see her.”

“When will you return to Castell Maen?” Dreading he would leave her for any amount of time, Lecie waited anxiously for his answer.

“I am scheduled to meet with the master builder on the morrow to ascertain a more accurate time frame for the date of completion.” Albin studied her anxious mannerisms before adding, “Then
we
shall journey to Castell Maen for a spell.”

“We?” Lecie could not keep the hope from her voice. “Do you mean the children as well?”

“Lecie.” Albin shook his head as if she should know better. “You are my wife and the children are your family and now mine. I have no intention of replacing their father, yet I would like to stand in his place for as long as they have need of me.”

Tears slipped from Lecie’s eyes as she opened her mouth to tell Albin how much she loved him.

“Well, isn’t this cozy,” Gunilda’s harsh voice called from the darkness.

Albin stiffened as Lecie hastily brushed away her tears. “Where have you been, Gunilda?”

Strolling into the garden, Gunilda’s eyes swept the table before coming to rest on Lecie. “What do you care? From the looks of things you replaced both me and Hamon.”

“Sir Albin was kind enough to hire additional staff.” Lecie met Gunilda’s glare with one of her own. “Good thing, too, since it is obvious you cannot be relied upon.”

“I make board well enough.” Gunilda ran her hand along Albin’s arm as she headed to the door. Without turning around she called, “I suggest you stifle your lovemaking tonight. Your rutting by the falls earlier this day was loud enough to wake the dead.”

Her eyes flaring wide in stunned surprise, Lecie gasped.

It was well after dawn when Albin woke Lecie by caressing her face. “I am departing for the tower, lass.”

Stretching, Lecie made to rise when Albin restrained her with a kiss. “Go back to sleep. After keeping you up half the night, you deserve the rest.”

Lightly touching her kiss-swollen lips, Lecie smiled. “I am not the only one who needs more sleep.”

“I am a battle trained warrior.” Wiggling his eyebrows, he kissed her on the forehead. “And I have ulterior motives for allowing you to be a layabout this morn.”

“Oh?” Rising on an elbow, the linen sheet slipped to expose her full breasts. “What ulterior motives do you speak of?”

“I shall give you one guess.” His eyes drawn to the tempting sight laid bare for him, Albin bent his head to suckle on a pert nipple. Reluctantly pulling away, he met her passion filled gaze. “Hold that thought for my return.”

“Oh, I shall.” Watching him slip naked from the bed, she settled back on the pillows to admire the view. “Do not tarry over long, husband.”

Splashing water on his face from the basin on the dresser, Albin raked wet fingers through his tousled curls. “Keep looking at me like that and I shall be tarrying here longer.”

“I would not be opposed to that,” Lecie replied with a tempting smile.

In response, Albin glanced towards the ceiling with a grin.

“What was that about?” she asked from the bed.

Sitting on the edge of the bed to slip on his breeches, Albin glanced at her over his shoulder. “I was merely thanking God above for gifting me with such a wife.”

“Albin,” Lecie admonished sitting up in the bed. “I am sure the good lord has better things to do than listen to you rave about my wanton behavior.”

“Mayhap,” he agreed slipping his tunic over his head. “I still think he would approve of my gratefulness.”

“Albin,” Lecie said sternly.

“Aye, my love?” he replied unperturbed pulling on his boots.

“You are an amazing and beautiful man.”

Pausing in his task at her solemnly spoken words, he looked back at her. “Thank you, Lecie.”

With a tender smile, she plopped back on the pillow. “Now be gone with you so you can return to me all the more quickly.”

* * *

Albin knocked on Talan’s door and grinned in the darkened passageway to hear him stumbling from the bed to answer his summons.

“Good morn to you, my friend,” Albin said when the door swung open to present a scowling Talan.

“There is nothing good about being rousted from a pleasant dream,” Talan grumbled.

“Ahh, I see.” Albin nodded knowingly. “The fair and tempting Mylla paid a nocturnal visit, did she? In that case, you have my deepest apologies for disturbing your slumber.”

“What do you want, Albin?”

“I am riding to the tower to meet with the master builder. I have fallen lax in my duties of late.”

“Give me a moment to dress.”

About to close the door, Albin pushed against it. “No need, lad. You have filled the gap I left and I would like to make it up to you.”

“If that were the case, you would have left me alone,” Talan grumbled. “It is not often I have pleasant dreams.”

“Go back to your Mylla.” Albin gripped Talan’s shoulder with a smile. “When you wake, enjoy a day of leisure with your lady fair. I have but one favor to ask of you.”

“Which is?”

“To make his marriageable intentions more palatable to Lecie, Hamon did indeed threaten harm to the children.”

“I thought as much.” Talan stiffened. “The lowborn knave shall be held accountable for the harm he has brought to Edric’s family.”

“Agreed, but first we have to find him.”

“Is that really where you are going this day? To root him out from beneath the rock he is no doubt hiding beneath?”

“No, my plans remain unchanged. I shall see to my duty first.”

“What favor do you ask?’

“Would you include Lecie and the children in your plans for the day?” 

“You believe Hamon will carry out his threats?”

“He is too much of a coward, but I have no intention of taking any chances where my family is concerned.”
“Nor I,” Talan replied solemnly. “Consider it done.”

“You have my thanks.”

“I shall rendezvous with you upon your return. I have been waiting for word from the master builder before sending a message to Castell Maen.”

“About what exactly?” Albin’s dark brows narrowed in suspicion. “I have made regular reports to Fulke on the tower’s progress.”

“Aye, you have,” Talan acknowledged. “However, you have yet to impart the news of your recent nuptials and I am eager to do so on your behalf.”

With a mocking bow, Talan closed the door in Albin’s face. 

Slowly turning away from the door, Albin chuckled when he heard a thud and Talan’s muffled curse as he knocked into something.

“Suits you right,” he called through the door.

He was still laughing when Lecie came rushing out of the master chamber. Seeing the panicked look on her face had him reaching for his sword. “Where is he?”

“Albin,” she breathed relief evident in her voice.

Surprised when she flung her arms around his waist, he felt her tremble. “What is wrong, my love?”

“Please do not go to the tower today.” Easing back, she looked up at him. “Send one of the recent hires with a message or wait for another day.”

“Why? What happened in the few moments since I left you?”

“I cannot explain it.” She shook her head with tears glistening in her eyes. “I just have a feeling that something bad is going to happen.”

“Which is why I just spoke to Talan,” he soothed. “He is planning on spending the day with Mylla and I have asked him to include you and the children. I cannot leave you in more able hands.”

“You believe Hamon will attempt to follow through with his threats to harm the children?”

“I find him to be too much of a coward for that.”

“Then why did you ask Sir Talan to protect us?”

“Because when it comes to you and the children, I refuse to take any risks.” Lightly capturing her lips, he kissed her until she relaxed against him. “Feel better?”

“No.” Shaking her head, she clung to him. “I will only feel better when you return home safely to me.” 

* * *

After a morning spent with the master builder listening to tedious construction descriptions, Albin felt anxious to return to the inn.

“Baron Erlegh will be pleased to hear of the progress,” Albin cut the master builder off mid-sentence. “I shall be sure to pass along how precise your accounting has been.”

“Yes well,” the master builder mumbled. “Thank you, Sir Albin. Please give Baron Erlegh my best regards and inform him I am, as always, the king’s humble servant.”

“I am sure the king will be as pleased to hear it as Baron Erlegh will be.” Albin dipped his head. “Now if you will excuse me, I was recently wed and wish to return to my bride.”

“Of course, by all means do so.” The master builder rushed to add, “My salutations on your nuptials.”

Focused on easing Lecie’s troubled thoughts of earlier, Albin vaulted into the saddle to spur his horse in the direction of the village.

Rounding a forested bend in the road, he felt a piercing pain in his upper chest that nearly unseated him. His battle training had him gripping the reins with one hand even as he whisked his sword from its scabbard with the other.

Only when he could surmise no visible threat did he survey the damage. Blood stained his tunic crimson from the crossbow quarrel piercing his chest.

Reining his horse around, he raised his sword in the direction of the trees to his left.  “Hamon, you spineless coward,” he raged. “Come out and face me like a man.”

The sound of disturbed brush met Albin’s ears as he scanned the tree line for some sight of the tapster. About to ride into the trees after him, his vision began to blur. His tunic sticking to his skin from the blood flowing from the wound, he let loose with his battle cry before spurring his horse around in the direction of home.

By the time he reached the inn, he was slumped over his horse struggling to remain conscious.

Joseph came running from the stables only to draw up short at the sight of him. “I shall fetch help with all haste, Sir Albin.”

His horse dutifully returned to its stall as Albin heard a commotion from far away. The last thing he saw was the vision of an angel in the form of his wife as she reached up to cradle his face.

* * *

“Lift him down gently, William and Merek.” Her heart pounding in fear, Lecie eyed the blood staining Albin’s tunic and horse with a sinking heart. “Joseph, fetch the village leech at once.”

“Aye, my lady,” Joseph called already darting towards the heart of the village.

Preceding the two gangly men as they struggled with Albin, Lecie prayed all the way to the door of the inn. “If you cannot manage to lift him above, lay him in the kitchen.”

“We can manage, my lady,” Merek murmured. “He will be more comfortable in his own bed.”

Winifred took charge of the situation as soon as they entered the kitchen. “Anne, find Mary. Sir Talan and Mylla took the children on an outing and she knew where they went. They may be in danger, summon them back at once. Betta, fetch water and clean linens to bind the wound.” Speaking to no one in particular, she eyed Lecie’s ashen face. “Has the leech been summoned?”

“Joseph has gone to fetch him,” Lecie heard her voice and wondered why it sounded so far away. “I should have stopped him from going. I just knew something bad was going to happen. It is why I remained behind to await him.”

“All will be well, my lady,” Winifred assured her. “You must have faith.”

“Someone needs to summon the sheriff as well,” Merek spoke as he adjusted his grip on Albin’s legs to lead the way into the common room. “I wager this was no hunting accident.”

“I shall do it myself as soon as we have Sir Albin settled,” William replied from his place at Albin’s shoulders.

Wrapping her arm around Lecie’s shoulders to steady her as she swayed, Winifred cleared a path of tables and chairs to the steps.

The few early patrons consisting mainly of overnight lodgers grew silent as the group slowly passed.

“Go on up and prepare the bed, Lecie,” Winifred gently urged her to move. “I shall lend assist to the men.”

“Winifred…” Lecie found she could not voice her fears. Hiking up her skirts, she fled up the steps.   

Completely pulling the coverlet off the bed, Lecie’s hands shook as she adjusted the pillows against the headboard. Stepping aside as the men struggled through the door, tears flooded her eyes as Albin moaned weakly in pain.

“Gently now,” Winfred directed as the men eased Albin onto the bed. “Try not to drive the quarrel in further.”

Relieved of their burden they stepped back out of breath.

“I shall summon the sheriff now.” Dipping his head at Lecie, William hastened from the chamber.

“Is there aught else you need, Winifred?” Shifting from foot to foot, Merek could not take his eyes from the wicked looking quarrel sticking out of Albin’s chest.

“Lend assist to Simon,” Winifred absently replied. “With the leech and sheriff on the way, the villagers are bound to follow.”

“It shall be done.” Casting a worried glance at Lecie, Merek dipped his head on the way out.

“Lecie, I need shears to cut away his garb.” Perched on the edge of the bed, Winifred slid her hand beneath Albin’s back to see if the quarrel had gone all the way through his body. When Lecie did not respond, Winifred glanced up to find her stricken gaze on the bloodied sheets. “You need to be strong now in order to help your husband.”  

“He cannot afford to lose so much blood,” she murmured in a panic.

“Lecie,” Winifred snapped. “Get a hold of yourself.”

Her mind racing at the implications of what she was seeing, Lecie could only nod.

Fleeing the chamber, she bumped into Betta in the passageway holding a pile of clean linens to use as bandages. “Fetch shears for Winifred, I need to speak to Gunilda.”

Storming down the hall to Gunilda’s small chamber, Lecie flung the door open so hard it banged against the wall.

Gunilda shot upright on the bed as Lecie entered only to slam it closed behind her.

Her hands fisted, Lecie stalked to the bed to hover over the lounging tavern wench. “Where is he?”

Never having seen Lecie so enraged, Gunilda nervously looked around for an escape route. “Where is who?”

“You know who,” Lecie came close to screeching as she dragged Gunilda to her by the collar of her stained linen chemise. “Where is your lover,
Hamon
?”

Struggling in Lecie’s grip, Gunilda averted her eyes. “How am I supposed to know? You banished him from the inn.”