Fragments of Grace (Prequel to the Dragonblade Trilogy) (20 page)

“Greetings, Chloë,” he said
rather formally. “You are looking well.”

Chloë beamed at her father. “I am
well,” she agreed, looking to her mother for any indication as to her father’s
mood.  Her mother was as emotionless as always and, uncertain, she returned her
focus to her father. “Are you well also, Father?”

Anton nodded, accepting a pewter
cup from a serving wench.  He drank deeply of the contents and smacked his lips
before returning his focus to Chloë.  This time, he fixed on Keir as well.

“St. Hèver,” he greeted. “The
last time I saw you, you were covered in mail and gore. Now that you are clean
and presentable, I see what has my daughter so smitten.”

Shocked, Chloë looked to Keir for
his reaction, but Keir remained steady. “What is that, my lord?”

Anton cocked an eyebrow as he
drank deeply again. “You resemble a hero from legend with your handsome looks
and big muscles,” he turned to his wife. “You were correct when you said his
attractiveness is a fine complement to Chloë’s beauty.  They make a handsome
pair.”

Blanche waited to speak until her
own cup was filled with ruby red wine. “This is his brother, Sir Kurtis,” she
indicated the big man sitting on the other side of Cassandra.  “He is
Northumberland’s commander.”

Anton gave Kurtis a scrutinizing
look before focusing on the food now being placed before him. “How long have
you served de Vesci, Sir Kurtis?” he asked.

Kurtis prepared himself for a
second round of interrogation. Unlike his brother, the de Gelds did not know
him. He was sure they would want to know every little thing about him before
agreeing to turn their daughter over to him.

“Six years, my lord.”

“And before that?”

“I served the king in Wales, my
lord.”

Anton continued to drink, delving
into his food when a steaming plate of meat was put in front of him.  He had
had a long talk with his wife about their daughters’ collective futures and
although he knew, eventually, he would do as the womanfolk wanted, he still had
to make a reasonable show of concern as the father of the potential brides.  He
pretended to be interested in his food when, in fact, he was thinking of
questions to ask the prospective bridegrooms.

“Although my wife has had the
opportunity to interrogate you, I find that I must satisfy myself,” Anton said
as he pulled juicy meat off the bone. “Keir, I have known of you for many
years. I know you have met with some hardship a few years ago when Pendragon
was burned and your family killed. I understand that your young son still has
not been found.”

It was a very touchy subject,
something that Blanche had tactfully refrained from.  As Chloë looked stricken
at her father’s question, even Blanched cast her husband a long glance.  Keir,
however, remained cool.

“He has not, my lord.”

“Do you continue to search for
him or have you simply consigned the matter to God?”

Keir fought to keep his emotions
down at the extremely delicate subject. “I am always searching for him, my
lord,” he replied steadily. “He is my son. I will search for him until the day
I die.”

Anton nodded. “But you will be
taking on a new wife and, presumably, new children,” he pointed out. “What of
the children you have with my daughter? Will they be your heirs or will you
hold out for your missing son?”

“Father!” Chloë shrieked in
protest, shooting to her feet. “That is not a suitable question. It has nothing
to do with our marriage!”

As Keir tried to shush her softly
and pull her back down into her chair, Anton went on the defensive.

“It is a reasonable question,
Chloë,” he insisted. “I must know if this man will take care of you and your
children or if he will view you as a replacement for the family he lost. Will
he view you as a substitute for the wife that was murdered and will he see her
when he looks at you? It seems that a man who has known such heartache would
have emotional issues he may not be able to overcome. You would suffer, child.”

By now, even Blanche had hushed
her husband. Anton was naturally submissive to his wife but he believed he had
a legitimate question.  Chloë stared at her father in horror before bursting
into tears.

“You are hateful,” she sobbed. “I
cannot believe you would be so cruel to Keir when he has done nothing to deserve
it!”

She was trying to pull away from
the table but Keir had her, gently trying to coax her to regain her seat. 
Chloë wept and struggled to pull away, not wanting to create a scene but
terribly upset with her father.  Keir had his big arm around her torso,
blocking her from leaving completely.  As Chloë wept softly into her hand, Keir
looked at Anton.

“I must put myself in your
position when understanding the sincerity of your question, my lord,” he said
evenly, although he was growing upset simply because Chloë was so upset. “I
understand that you want the best possible match for your daughter and I
respect that. But you must understand that I love Chloë very much and do not
consider her a replacement for the wife lost.  The past cannot be undone and I
do not wish for things that cannot be.  It is my hope to regain my son someday
and I will never stop looking for the boy, but any children Chloë and I have
will be mine, body and soul, and I will love them and provide for them to the
very best of my abilities.  They will want for nothing.”

“That may be,” Anton continued.
The fact was that he truly believed he was acting in his daughter’s best
interest as he formulated questions that were meant to be probing but only made
him look foolish. “However, I am deeply concerned at the amount of grieving you
did for your first wife.”

“Why?”

“Because it suggests that perhaps
my daughter cannot compete with a dead woman’s memory,” he pointed out. “Tell
me, St. Hèver, if your dead wife was to walk into the room this very moment,
who would you choose? Her or my daughter?”

It was a bluntly malicious
question, one that was not lost on Keir. He did not want to start off his
marriage to Chloë with a distinct distaste for her father, but it was an
unnecessary question that was meant to trick him.  No good could come of it and
he knew it.

“Chloë,” he replied with a hint
of disgust in his tone. “Satisfied?”

Anton digested his statement,
nodding as he came to terms with the man and his ability to remain calm under
ridiculous scrutiny. His blue-eyed gaze moved to his stricken daughter,
standing next to Keir with her back to the table.  Keir had his enormous arms
around her, preventing her from going anywhere.

“Chloë,” Anton said in a low
voice. “Sit down.”

“Nay,” Chloë snapped. “I will not
sit and listen to your cruelty.”

“Do you want to marry this man?”

“Aye.”

“Then sit down. I will not tell
you again.”

Chloë wiped her eyes, struggling
for composure.  Without a word, she gently removed Keir’s arms from her torso
and bent down to kiss his cheek. It was a surprising show of affection in full
view of her parents, something under normal circumstances the normally modest
woman would have never done. Silently and without a hind glance, she walked
from the table.

Across the table, Cassandra
watched her sister wander away. She closed her eyes tightly, with great sorrow,
before turning to her father.

“You hurt her,” she hissed. “How
could you be so cruel to Keir?”

Anton would not back down. “It is
my duty as a father to make sure the man Chloë selected is suitable,” he
pointed out heatedly. “You will not question me.”

Beside him, Blanche rose from her
chair.  Before leaving the table, she turned to her husband. “I will speak with
her,” she said softly but with undeniable firmness. “You will now give Sir Keir
and Sir Kurtis permission to wed our daughters.”

Anton looked up at his wife, his
mouth hanging open. “But…!”

“You will do this,” Blanche cut
him off.

“But I am not finished!”

“You have done enough.  Give your
permission now.”

Anton was gearing up for an epic
protest but the words died on his lips.  It never did any good to argue with
Blanche because she always got what she wanted in the end.  As Blanche left the
table, Anton looked to the two brother knights, now gazing back at him with
varied degrees of hope and apprehension.   His lips flattened into a thin line
of resignation.

“You heard the woman,” he said
with some irony. “You have my permission.”

Cassandra squealed with delight,
throwing her arms around Kurtis and hugging him tightly as Keir smiled faintly
and lifted his cup to Anton.  Anton returned the gesture purely out courtesy
and not because he was genuinely happy about it. He never even got the chance
to pick away at Kurtis. He drained his cup and demanded more alcohol as Keir
drained his chalice, rose from the table, and went off in search of Chloë and
her mother.  Even if Blanche wanted to speak with Chloë privately, still, he
wanted to be the one to give her the good news.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The hour was very late but Keir
couldn’t sleep.  On the battlements of Aysgarth, he leaned back against the
cold stone of the southeast tower, gazing out over the moonlit Yorkshire
landscape and thinking on the course his life was about to take. 

One month ago, he was consigned
to a dull existence, still hurting for the family he had lost and resigned to
the fact that he would grow old and bitter alone.  But with the event of the
siege of Exelby and the introduction of the youngest daughter of Anton de Geld,
he was looking at such joy and possibilities that he could hardly comprehend it
all.   When he lay down to sleep, his mind was working madly over Chloë, their
coming wedding and their life together. He couldn’t sleep no matter how hard he
tried.  Chloë filled his mind from top to bottom.

So he came to the battlements to
clear his thoughts.  As he stood there and gazed over the silver land, he kept
reliving Anton’s question to him…
if your dead wife was to walk into this
room, who would chose?
 He had given Anton the answer he sought, an off the
cuff reply that he hadn’t thought hard on. But now that he’d had time to think
on it, he kept coming around to the same answer and he felt guilty for it.

He and Madeleine had been pledged
very young, so she was not someone he had chosen for himself.  It was purely by
chance that he liked her, eventually coming to love the small woman with the
long dark hair and quirky sense of humor.  She could make him laugh.  But with
Chloë, there was such an overwhelming emotional and physical attraction to the
woman that he couldn’t seem to breathe when she was around. It was as if she
filled up every part of him, her luscious beauty and sweet manner. She made him
feel special, as if he was important in her eyes, and all he wanted to do was
love and protect her.  Were Madeleine and Chloë to stand side by side and he
was forced to choose, as much as he respected and loved Madeleine, he knew in
his heart that he would have to choose Chloë.  She was very quickly becoming
his all for living.  And that realization made him feel increasingly guilty.

Pushing himself off the stone
wall, he moved to the parapet and rested his elbows upon it, leaning against
the wall as he gazed over the front of the wall.  There were soldiers with big
dogs and torches patrolling the exterior of the castle, the road and the woods
just to the south. He could see the torches moving through the dark trees,
phantom floating balls of light in the blackness. 

His mind began to wander to the
impending wedding; when he had informed Chloë of her father’s permission
earlier in the evening, all the woman did was squeal.  Keir’s ears still hurt
but it brought a grin to his face to remember her happiness.  Chloë’s mother
already had plans for sending out announcements and the location of the
weddings.  She, too, mentioned the church in Leaming but Keir wasn’t going to
argue with the woman at the moment but he fully intended to before she sent out
any announcements of invitations.  At that moment, he simply wanted to enjoy the
thrill of Chloë becoming his wife.

“What are you doing up here?”

The soft female voice came from
behind him and as he turned, Chloë suddenly appeared beside him.  He had been
so swept up in his reflections that he hadn’t heard her approach. Surprised, but
very pleased, he grinned at her.

“I am making sure the castle is
safe while you are sleeping,” he told her. “At least, I thought you were
sleeping. Why are you not in bed like a good girl?”

Wrapped in a dark blue cloak
against the cool night, she smiled up at him as she wound her hands around his
left arm, snuggling against him.

“I could not sleep,” she
admitted. “Every time I close my eyes, all I can think of is you and our
wedding. I never knew I could be so excited. I feel as if I am walking on clouds.”

He chuckled softly. “I feel the
same,” he agreed. “That is why you find me here. I could not sleep, either.”