Fragments of Grace (Prequel to the Dragonblade Trilogy) (24 page)

He lifted an eyebrow at her. “Why
him?”

Chloë shrugged, unfastening the
other piece of armor. “Mother feels that if he knows I am betrothed, he will
leave me alone and seek a target elsewhere.”

Keir grunted. “Absolutely not,”
he grumbled. “Sending him a missive is asking for trouble. She may as well go
to him personally and laugh in his face. He will see it as a direct insult.”

The pieces of armor came off in
her hands and she deposited them into his big palm. “I do not see how,” she
argued gently. “If he knows I am married, then why continue to pursue me? He
will know I am out of his reach.”

Keir just shook his head,
displeased with Lady de Geld’s intentions. “This is not a wise decision.”

She watched him bend over to
remove his mail coat. “Should I tell her what you have said?”

He peeled the mail coat off and
stood up. “Nay,” he said. “I am going to find your mother myself and see if the
missive has gone out yet. If it has not, it never will.  If it has, then I will
send someone out to retrieve the messenger. It was foolish and arrogant of her
to send a wedding announcement to a man who very nearly razed her castle
because of an unrequited love.  I fear he will only be a threat to you in the
future.”

Chloë could see he was upset
about it and she made her way to him, timidly, as he laid the mail coat over a
chair.

“I am not worried, sweetheart,”
she said softly. “You will protect me.”

He looked at her, sharply, as if
she had just struck him. All he could think of was that he could not protect
her if he was in Wales. She was smiling up at him and he felt his control
slipping.  He couldn’t look at her and not feel the horrific pangs of grief
slash at him, like claws. 

After a moment, he reached out
and pulled her against him, holding her so tightly against his chest that she
grunted when he tightened his grip.  His cheek was against the top of her head,
feeling the soft texture against his skin. He sighed faintly, deeply distressed
at what he must tell her.  The time had come.

“I want you to listen to what I
am about to tell you very carefully, sweetheart,” he murmured. “It is
important.”

Chloë held him tightly, burrowed
against his chest and belly. “Of course.”

He paused a moment as he
collected his thoughts. “Do you remember when I told your mother of my history
as a knight, that I mentioned my service for the king in Wales?”

She nodded, rubbing her luscious
hair against his cheek as she did so. “I do.  Is that what was contained in the
missive? Did the king send something to that regard?”

“In a manner of speaking,” he
caressed her back gently with one big hand.  “He remembers my victory against
the Welsh prince. It was a great victory although I think it was skill coupled
with a good deal of luck.  It seems that there is another uprising in Wales at
this time and the king has requested my assistance with it.”

“Your assistance?” her head came
off his chest, the big brown eyes gazing up at him. “What does he want from
you?”

He held her head between his two
great hands, his thumbs on her cheeks. “He wants me to go to Wales and help him
quell the uprising.  It seems that I am the only man in all of England who
knows how to suppress a rebelling Welsh prince.”

She looked at him for a moment,
digesting the information, before shaking her head. “You cannot go,” she said
flatly. “We are getting married soon and we are going to live peacefully at
Pendragon. You have already done your duty for the king. He will have to find
someone else to help him quash the Welsh.”

He almost laughed. She said it
firmly, as if she was issuing a command to both him and the king.  He stroked
her cheeks with his thumbs.

“I wish it was that simple,” he
said sincerely. “He has issued an order and I must go.”

The brown eyes grew cloudy when she
realized there was no choice in the matter, and she pulled away from his
caressing hands.

 “You cannot,” she countered
sternly. “You and I are to be married soon.”

“Aye, we are,” he agreed. “We
will be married today before I leave.”

Her eyebrows flew up. “Leave?”
she repeated, growing increasingly agitated. “You are not leaving. “

He sighed faintly, seeing that an
explosion of epic proportions was brewing.

“Sweetheart, I must,” he said
gently. “I do not have a choice. The king has placed me in charge of the armies
gathering in the north.  I am to lead the armies in to Wales and support the
king’s efforts against Madog ap Llewellyn as he tries to usurp the king in
Wales.”

Her mouth popped open. “Who is
this Madog?” she snapped. “I have never heard of him. And you cannot go because
we are to be married.”

He shook his head, exasperated
because she did not seem to understand what he was telling her. Everything
revolved around their marriage, around what she wanted for her perfect life. He
wanted it, too, but the reality was harsh and brutal.

“Chloë, my sweet love, listen to
me, please,” he went to her, grasping her by the arms and holding her firmly
when she tried to pull away. “We will be married today and I will send you back
to Pendragon with Pembury.  You will stay there, well protected, until I return
from Wales.”

“Nay,” she said angrily, the
tears starting to come. “You cannot go, Keir. You swore you would never leave
me, not ever.”

He pulled her into an embrace
even as she struggled. “Of course I will never leave you,” he kissed her head,
her angry red cheek.  He tried to look her in the eye but she was still
fighting him. “I will always be in your heart, your soul, in everything about
you. A man cannot love something as much as I love you and not be a part of the
very air you breathe.”

The tears were falling now, fast
and furious.  She gripped him, sobbing loudly as she collapsed against his
chest.  Keir held her tightly, so very sorry she was so upset.  His heart ached
for the both of them.

“You are going to battle,” she
wept.

He kissed her hair, her forehead.
“Aye,” he whispered.

Her sobs were loud and
unrestrained. “I may never see you again.”

He couldn’t lie to her. He could
feel tears stinging his eyes. “Aye, you will,” he murmured. “I will return to
you, I swear it, even if it is in the caress of a breeze or the visit of a
sparrow who sits on your windowsill.  Even if my body does not return, my heart
and soul will always find you, Chloë.  You have them with you even now. That
will never change.”

She wept loudly, devastated at
the news.  Keir held her, rocking her gently as she expended her grief.  After
several long and painful moments, he swept her into his arms and carried her to
her bed.  Laying her down on the overstuffed mattress, he lay down beside her
and gathered her in to his arms.

Chloë sobbed until there was
nothing left. Wrapped in his enormous arms, she clutched his tunic, her face
buried in his neck.  Keir had one arm around her body while the other was up
around her shoulders, a great hand in her hair, caressing her head, soothing
her.

“Please,” she whispered, begging.
“Please do not go.”

He hissed her forehead tenderly.
“I must,” he murmured.

Her sobs renewed with vigor for a
time, eventually fading off into sniffles and hiccups. Eventually, she fell
still and Keir knew she had fallen asleep. He could hear her deep, steady
breathing.   He lay there with her for awhile, simply to feel her close to him,
before very carefully disengaging himself and rising from the bed.  She was so
emotionally exhausted that she didn’t stir in the least. 

Pulling the coverlet over her,
Keir silently gathered his mail and slipped from the room.   With Chloë
sleeping, he could focus on what he needed to accomplish before tomorrow’s
departure.  The first thing he intended to do was stop Lady de Geld from
sending any sort of missive to Ingilby.  Without Keir around to protect Chloë,
he was very concerned. Better not to rattle the man’s cage and leave well
enough alone.

After a shave and a clean change
of clothes, Keir went in search of Lady de Geld and found the woman in
Coverdale’s solar.  She was there with her husband as well as Lord Coverdale. 
Keir didn’t like the mood of the room when he entered it and liked it even less
when Anton began to speak.  He knew of the missive from the king and had
something to say about it.

By then, stopping a wedding
announcement to Ingilby was the very least of Keir’s worries.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Nay!” Chloë was screaming at her
father.  “You promised, Father.
You promised
!”

Anton held his position in a very
unpopular battle.  His wife and both daughters were against him, but he had to
hold fast. He knew best in this instance. The womenfolk in his family were
thinking with their emotions, as women often do, and he was thinking clearly
where they were not.  Truth be told, however, it was a struggle to hold his
ground. He did not like to see his wife and daughters so unhappy when it was
directed at him.

“I made the promise before I knew
the man was going off to war,” he told his daughter steadily. “You will marry
this man today and be a widow tomorrow? I think not. I know you do not agree
with me, Chloë, but you must understand I am doing this for your own good.  If
St. Hèver perishes in Wales, as his widow, you will be relegated to the average
offers for your hand.  As an unwed maiden, your price is premium.”

“
Nay!
” Chloë screamed
again, smacking her hands on the desk in Coverdale’s solar. “I will not hear of
this. You promised Keir and I that we could be married and we will.”

Anton was becoming increasingly
upset over her disrespectful tone. Chloë wasn’t usually a screamer, which was
something else of a shock to him. However, Cassandra was livid. The blond
sister had a bold mouth and was not afraid to voice her opinion in the face of
what she considered sheer stupidity.

“And me?” she spat. “Kurtis is
not going to war but will you make me wait as well for some foolish, contrived
reason?”

“You will not speak to me in that
tone,” Anton warned her.

“Or what?” Cassandra snapped.
“Will you prove that I am right and you are not a man of your word? How dare
you go back on your word to Keir and Chloë. The man is going off to war and all
you can think of is keeping your daughter’s price high for the next potential
husband?”

“Enough!” Anton roared. “Leave
this solar, Cassandra. This matter does not concern you.”

Cassandra wasn’t finished nor
would she allow her father to cast her aside.  She moved towards the man, teeth
barred, and lowered her voice.

“Think very hard about what you
are doing,” she seethed. “If you go back on your promise to Keir and Chloë, men
will know this. They will know this because I will tell them and your oath will
be no better than sand through fingers to any man who holds bond with you. 
Keir is a well respected and honored knight, and I am ashamed that you would
rescind your word to him.  It is a vile, treacherous act against your own flesh
and blood.”

Anton reached out and slapped her
across the face but, to her credit, Cassandra didn’t flinch or cry.  She took
the blow, her blue eyes drilling holes through her father before turning and
quitting the room.  Chloë watched her sister go with big eyes, turning to her
father with a new round of venom.

“You
struck
her?” she
gasped. “Why would you do such a thing? She only speaks the truth.”

Anton jabbed a finger at her. “Do
not believe for one minute I will not beat you as well for your insolence. You
insult my integrity.”

“That is because you have none if
you go back on your word to Keir!”

“I will not hear this!” Anton
bellowed. “If you cannot abide by my wishes, I will marry you to the next man
who bids for your hand and forget all about you, you ungrateful wench.  My
castle is in ruins because of you and now you seek to question my authority on
the matter of your marriage? You are mine to broker as I please, daughter, and
I will not marry you to a man who is riding off to his death in battle. You are
more valuable as an unwed maiden than you are as a widow.”

Chloë was so upset she could
hardly breathe. She gazed steadily at her father, hating the man more than she
could express.  He had always been rather shallow and careless, but nothing
like this.  He was turning into something dark and deceitful right before her
eyes and she hated him for it.

“I will commit myself to a
convent before I allow you to broker me like a prize mare,” she hissed. “I will
be Keir’s wife and no one else’s.”

“You will do what I tell you.”

“Is that all I am to you? A
bargaining tool?”

“You are my daughter and I will
mold your future as I see fit.”

Chloë was beginning to tremble,
her emotions overwhelming her. “And if Keir returns from Wales? What then?”