Return of the Rose (23 page)

Ciara sighed, drawing strength from the thought of her siblings to do what she must. “I realize you came to Braddock for Matti’s training,” Ciara said to Helena, “and ‘tis certainly a privilege and an honor that you have been given the chance to do so. But to be Lord Vanguard’s mistress could be compared to discovering a king’s treasure.”

“How do you know he is interested in me?” Helena asked.

Ciara twirled a lock of auburn hair about her finger. “I had the honor of taking his lordship’s meal to him…’twas the day you arrived. I overheard his endless praise of you to his man-at-arms. I thought you would be pleased to know.”

Helena’s bountiful chest heaved with each breath against the woolen garment she had long outgrown. She gave Ciara a devilish smile before making her way toward the children and their lord.

~~~~

“Lady Amanda…are you in there?”

“Come in,” Morgan said, her voice lined with frustration as she tried to fasten another hard to reach lace. “Could you help me with this?”

Ciara readily obliged.

“Thanks. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to these strange clothes.”

“Did you not wear these garments at Silverwood?”

Morgan winced. “I did. I’ve just never been good with tying laces is what I meant to say.”

“I see,” Ciara said as she finished with the last of the hard to reach ties.

“Thanks. Now what can I do for you?” Morgan asked as she shuffled through Amanda’s trunk, looking for the slippers to match the royal blue gown she had on.

Ciara stepped closer. “I thought you should know that Lord Vanguard is in the gardens.”

“I know,” Morgan whispered back, wondering why they were talking in hushed voices, “he asked me to meet him there.”

“He is with another woman, my lady.”

“What?”

Ciara nodded.

Morgan stared at Ciara for a moment, dumbfounded, knowing there had to be a reasonable explanation. She slipped on the ivory slippers nearest her and left the room. Within minutes she was making a path through the many cooks in the kitchen. They waved and nodded, wondering what their ladyship was up to now as she rushed past without a word. Usually they burnt whole meals trying to cook and listen to her stories when she visited.

Morgan swept through the side door and up the winding path. She spotted Joseph immediately. He held his slingshot in one hand and his belly in the other as he laughed whole-heartedly, watching as his lordship brought the new maid, Helena, to the soft ground in one swoop.

“Joseph, what’s going on?” she asked, unable to make sense of what she was seeing.

“N-nothing, my lady. A new maid-in-training only just joined in on our game of tag.”

“Give me your slingshot, Joseph.”

Joseph smiled mischievously and handed it over. He also handed her his ammunition of softly mounded dirt.

“This won’t do,” she said with a determined glint in her eye.

Joseph’s eyes sparkled and his smile grew even wider. “Maybe these will do well?” he asked, showing her his prized projectiles, a large collection of acorns.

“Not good enough I’m afraid.” She looked to the ground and grabbed a small, but perfectly round stone that lay on the edge of the path.

Joseph’s eyes bulged as he watched her ladyship ready the slingshot with a stone. “Surely, you will be thrown in the dungeon for this, my lady.”

Morgan realized he was right and replaced the stone with the biggest acorn in the pile.

Derek turned in her direction just as she let the acorn fly.

Joseph’s mouth fell open when the acorn hit her target. Derek frowned as he touched the small lump forming above his brow. Then he took massive strides in their direction.

Without looking away from him, Morgan handed the slingshot back to Joseph. “Thank you, kind sir, for the use of your fine weapon.”

“You’re w-welcome,” Joseph managed before running off as fast as his small legs could carry him.

“Saint John and horseflies woman! What do you think you are up to now?”

Morgan stood firm, plunking her hands to her hips. “How dare you question me when you’re the one who invited me here just so I could see you flirt with another woman?”

Derek threw his arms upward. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” He turned to where she gestured and noticed for the first time since coming to the gardens that the child he had just tackled was indeed a full-grown woman: a woman with great mountains of breasts firmly pressed against her tunic, he noticed as she came to her feet. She met his gaze and shot him a radiant grin.

Derek stood momentarily speechless. “Once again it seems you are correct.” He chuckled to himself. “A man would have to be blind not to notice a wench such as that,” he said, turning toward Amanda only to watch her disappear back the way she came.

What a saucy wench his wife could be.

His head cleared as he gazed about. For the second time he found himself in the gardens, trying to please a damn woman, an impossible task that should be saved for passing troubadours and romantic minstrels. He raked his hands through his hair. She already expected him to beg forgiveness for their wedding day, and now this! The idea of it was absurd. He would not allow himself to be led around by a chain, and certainly not by an acorn hurling, blathering she-devil.

~~~~

“The man is unbearable,” Morgan said an hour later as she packed a tin of soap, a comb and brush, and as many dresses as she could fit into the small trunk that Odelia had emptied.

Odelia kept her tongue as she helped sort her things.

“Do you know what he said last night on our wedding night?” Morgan asked. “He said he would teach me my wifely duties!” Her voice filled with indignation. “How do you like that? He said I would bear him sons, making it perfectly clear that I had only one use as his wife.”

“Surely, it was only the ale talking,” Odelia said in Derek’s defense. “Did he not bring you a lovely meal to break your fast this very morn?”

Morgan shook her finger at Odelia. “Big deal. I’ve heard about men like him. They do one little thing like unload the dishwasher or put away their socks and we’re supposed to be overwhelmed with joy, down on our knees and kissing their feet!”

“You speak nonsense,” Odelia said with a chuckle before looking suddenly perplexed. “What is this dishwasher you speak of?”

“A dishwasher washes the dishes, of course,” Morgan answered, exasperated.

Odelia sighed and began repacking her things to make them all fit.

Morgan gazed out the window. Down below, two young boys ran into the training field and mounted good-sized horses. They began to practice fighting with blunted swords and shiny lances. She winced as one boy rode toward a stuffed quintain, hitting his target at full speed. He fell off his horse, landing on his backside, coughing up dirt as it settled on top of him. Derek came into view, laughing heartily. Morgan stayed hidden behind the curtain. She watched him help the boy to his feet, brush the dirt off his small tunic, and then kneel so that he and the boy were at eye level as he talked to him. Man to boy. She smiled at the picture they made. Even though she couldn’t hear what they were saying, she saw trust in the boy’s eyes as Derek urged him to try again. According to Matti, Derek had not had a father to guide him when he was small. And yet instinct and his good heart allowed him to help others, to give freely of himself.

He’d spoken with such coldness on their wedding day and yet even then she could see clearly that he was fighting with his emotions. He was fighting demons she couldn’t see, and that made it difficult to reason with the man at times.

“My lady, are things really so terrible that you must try so hard to displease his lordship? The man is merely trying to please you.”

“Trying to please me? He forced me to marry him. And he had to drink a keg of beer to do it. Every time I turn around he is in another woman’s arms. You call that trying to please me?”

“I think you embellish just a wee bit, but as I told you earlier, and as your little friend Joseph confirmed, his lordship thought the new maid was one of the children. Helena is quite small and she is new to Braddock. From behind she looks no bigger than Joseph.”

Morgan gazed heavenward. “Don’t tell me you believed Casanova’s story?”

“Where do you come up with such names?” Odelia put a hand to the air. “Never mind—I do not want to know. But I dare hope you realize that Lord Vanguard went to the gardens for the sole purpose of pleasing you.” She fastened the last strap on the trunk. “I need to get my own things together now, so finish up and I will meet you belowstairs.”

After Odelia left, Morgan thought about what she’d done to Derek’s head. She’d meant to hit his back and never would’ve used the largest acorn if she hadn’t been so…so jealous. She shuddered at the thought. She wasn’t a violent person. She’d never thrown anything in her life. Cringing, she realized she’d done exactly what Derek had done to her. She hadn’t listened, hadn’t given him the time to explain. She would make a point to apologize as soon as she saw him.

Her insides rumbled at the thought that before sundown she’d be at Windsor, socializing with royalty. Tonight she would meet the King of England. She’d read that King Henry VI was slightly insane. So what if he was a little off his rocker…she was going to meet him. How many people in the modern world could say that?

An hour later, she descended the stairs. Not an easy task considering she wore a long, silky black dress that she’d designed and Shayna had stitched. The dress was sleeveless with a backside that draped low. She lifted the hem to prevent herself from tripping.

Servants stopped their chattering to gawk at her. Emmon showed a rare tilt of the lips when he saw her. Hugo bowed and took hold of her elbow as she reached the landing, escorting her to where Derek leaned casually against the wall.

Her gaze landed on the knot on his forehead. Even with his eyes smoldering the way they were, she thought he looked breathtakingly handsome in his light-colored shirt stretched taut over powerful shoulders. Only a shadow of a beard covered his jaw, adding to his magnetism.
Dear God
, she thought,
this medieval man was her husband
.

Derek straightened. “We are late.” He seized her hand, pulling her along behind him as he made his way through the castle folk gathered around to wish them well.

She swallowed dryly and said to his back, “I’m sorry…I thought about what I did and I came to the conclusion that I was just a tiny bit jealous. It was stupid of me. But just so you know, I wasn’t aiming for your head. You just happened to look over at the wrong time.”

“So in a sense you are saying it was my fault—this knot on my head,” he said without slowing.

“Well, when you put it that way, I guess maybe you could say we were both at fault.”

Derek paused long enough to glance over his shoulder, stopping her with an aggravated gaze. No smile, no apology accepted.

“You don’t have to be such a sorehead, you know.” Realizing her unintended pun, she yanked her hand from his grasp and bent over in laughter.

Derek glared at her.

“
Sorehead
—get it?” Judging by the stern expression covering his face he didn’t get it at all. She straightened, mumbled another apology of sorts, and followed behind as she tried to keep up with his lengthy strides.

CHAPTER 13

Derek rarely used the carriage, preferring to ride his horse alongside. But not tonight. He lifted himself up and sat beside his wife, taking in the fragrant smell of wildflowers and herbs. He stole a glance and feasted on her oval face and emerald green eyes rimmed with thick, sooty lashes. Golden streaks, newly bleached by the sun, swirled within her neatly pinned coif and her skin appeared flawless, softly hued with coral. God’s teeth she was beautiful. He wondered if she was aware of how she tortured him with not only her beauty but her quick smile and laughing eyes. The back of her gown dipped low, revealing soft, alluring curves. Even the knot on his head failed to stop him from wanting her. He shook his head before leaning forward to give instructions to the driver.

Hugo helped Odelia and Matti to their seats on the bench behind them. Then he moved to the front to sit alongside the driver in order to help him avoid the larger ruts in the well-used roads.

The castle folk, with Emmon and Shayna in the foreground, waved and said their good-byes, bidding them a safe trip as the horses snorted and stamped their hooves in readiness. The driver jostled the reins and the carriage lurched forward.

Morgan waved goodbye. She waved to the cooks, the maids, the children, and to the two sentries at the gate.

Derek shook his head, staring straight ahead, but soon the corners of his mouth angled upward for her endless exuberance was contagious. She pointed and gasped at every windmill and manor, grabbing his hand or his arm at every turn, causing him to forget that he was angry with her.

Even a team of oxen pulling a man and his wagon caught her attention. Her excitement seemed sincere and he began to wonder if her parents ever let her out of Silverwood in her four and twenty years. He nodded when she pointed out yet another amazement in her eyes—a flock of sheep and endless rolling hills that to everyone else in the carriage was neither here nor there.

‘Twas hours later when they approached the outskirts of Windsor, twenty miles west of London. The tillage lands appeared prosperous and the traffic increased tenfold. Although the sun was setting, there were people traveling the roads, selling their wares and working within the fields.

The horses possessed a gentle gait as they brought the carriage over smoother and wider roads until they reached the long path that led to the castle. The outer gates to Windsor were fitted with double swinging-doors of heavy oak, reinforced with iron.

Amanda held tight to his arm when she caught a glimpse of the huge towers. “What is it?” Derek asked.

“I shouldn’t be here. I don’t belong. And, I never should have worn this dress,” she said firmly, gazing downward.