Read The Whispering Night Online

Authors: Kathryn le Veque

The Whispering Night (17 page)

“He is buying us time to
get away,” Garren took her gently by the arm. “We must get out of here. Did you
bring anything with you?”

“No, nothing. We left
hastily to avoid being followed, but we were followed anyway.”

Garren didn’t say
anything to that; he simply patted her hand.  Derica followed him across the
ward and into the abbey. It was cool and dark, the smells of cooking wafting on
the air. Her damp dress was causing her a chill and she shivered. Garren could
feel her twitch.

“First things first,” he
said. “We must get you into something dry and get you something to eat.”

“It has been a while
since I last ate.”

“Didn’t Fergus feed
you?”

“Of course he did. But
the last of our bread ran out this morning.”

“I hope he was
chivalrous. He didn’t eat everything, did he?”

“He ate hardly a thing.
He let me have most of it.”

“As well he should.”  He
kissed her again, just because he wanted to. “You have no idea how glad I am to
see you again.  Although I hoped for the best, I wasn’t sure if the best would
come.”

She smiled and grasped
his hand, tightly. He took her into a small corridor and into the second
chamber on the right; it was empty but for a cot, a small table and two
chairs.  It was dark, and somewhat creepy.

“I shall see if the nuns
have something you can wear while your gown dries,” he said. “Sit down and rest
a moment, sweetheart. I shall return shortly.”

She sat down, but she
continued holding his hand as if she was fearful to let him out of her sight.
He knelt down beside her and kissed her hand gently.

“I promise, I shan’t be
long,” he kissed her lips. “Everything will be all right, Derica. I swear it.”

Their gazes locked and
she smiled, putting her hands around his neck affectionately. “I know it will,”
she said. “Do you remember when we were up on the battlements of Framlingham,
right after we’d first met, how you told me that we would be in for a good deal
of trouble were my father to find us alone and unescorted?”

He grinned. “I do.”

“I think this is a bit
more serious than that.”

“Agreed.”

“But even if they were
to break the door down this moment, for the feeling that I have right now when
I look at you, it would be well worth the price.”

He was deeply touched.
“I can tell you now that I intend there should be many more moments like this
one,” he whispered. “You shall never be out of my sight, ever.”

Derica knew he meant
every word of it. “But what about Fergus? Aren’t you going to help him?”

“Fergus can take care of
himself. To go chasing after him right now would only ruin what he is trying to
accomplish.”

She understood, but
still, she worried for him. “He is a good friend to you.”

“The very best. I am
concerned for him, of course, but I would do more harm than good in my attempt
to help him right now.”

Derica smiled sadly and
let go of his hand so he could search for something dry for her to wear. With a
wink, Garren left her in the cold, silent room.

She must have been more
exhausted than she’d realized. She was aware that she was on her back, still in
that dark little room, with soft voices around her. She stirred a bit before
sitting up, groggily.

Garren was sitting
across from her on a small chair. There was a tiny figure swathed in brown and
white beside him, and the two of them were talking softly. Garren caught sight
of her and smiled.

“I am sorry,
sweetheart,” he stood up and went to her. “Did we wake you?”

She shook her head.
“No,” she rubbed her head. “How long have I been asleep?”

“A few hours,” Garren
sat down next to her and put his arm around her. “I came back with something
dry for you to wear and you were asleep sitting up. So I laid you down on the
bed. You never woke up.”

Derica yawned delicately,
trying not to be rude. “I did not realize I was so exhausted, but this is the
first bed I have slept on in days. Fergus was afraid to put us up at an inn for
fear we’d be discovered, so we slept in the woods.”

Garren hugged her
gently. “You have had a rough time of it.”

She grinned, rubbing the
sleep from her eye. “Not really. It is all been rather adventurous.”

The tiny figure in brown
and white twitched, reminding them that it was still there. Garren looked over
at the silhouette.

“I would like you to
meet someone,” he said to Derica. “This is Sister Mary Felicitas.”

Derica stood up; she did
not want to be rude and greet the woman on her backside. “Sister, it is an
honor to meet you.”

 Gabrielle moved into
the light and Derica could see, immediately, that her eyes were sightless. “And
you, Lady Derica. I have heard nothing but your praises for days. I feel as if
I know you already.”

The nun’s hand was
outstretched and Derica took it; it was tiny and cold. “I hope we will indeed
get to know one another,” she said.

 Gabrielle smiled. “I
like her, Garren,” she said to her brother. “I can hear it in her voice. She
will be good for you.”

Garren’s eyes twinkled
as his gaze moved between his sister and Derica. “She has been that already.”

Derica smiled coyly, feeling
the nun squeeze her hand tightly. “Fergus told me that when I came here, I was
to ask for Sister Mary Felicitas,” she said. “Do you help run-away maidens by
way of habit, then?”

Gabrielle laughed. “No,
my lady. Just the ones my brother happens to be in love with.”

Derica looked at Garren
with such an expression that he felt his heart leap strangely. Though he had
never said the words, surely she suspected his love for her. It was the first
time such emotion had been put into words, and he could see that it did not
displease her. He reached over and, taking Derica from his sister’s grasp,
pulled her onto his lap. She curled up like a kitten against him, all warm and
soft and round in all of the right places.

“Now,” he said, though
he was having trouble maintaining his train of thought with her sweet body
pressed against him. “My sister and I have been talking and I would seek your
approval of our conclusions. Firstly, I have had the sisters pack a bag for you
to take with us.”

“Pack a bag? With what?”

“Three garments, my
lady,” Gabrielle said helpfully. “Though I know the standards of the garments
are not what you are used to, still, they will be serviceable.  We have given
you two durable broadcloth dresses, plus a finer gown made from lamb’s wool and
dyed a lovely shade of blue, I am told.  We have also managed to locate some
calendula soap, plus a comb and a few other personal items. I hope it will be
adequate.”

“Considering I have
nothing but the clothes on my back, sister, I am sure what you have given me
will be more than adequate,” Derica said. “Your consideration is very much
appreciated.”

Gabrielle smiled in
response and Derica turned back to Garren. He was so warm and comfortable that
she snuggled closer to him, allowing her nostrils to become accustomed to the
musky, intoxicating aroma. He was heavenly.

Garren was becoming
accustomed to her feel, too, far too quickly. He never wanted to let her out of
his arms. But his mind was whirling with thoughts and he forced himself to
continue.

“Secondly, I think It is
best we leave this place tonight,” he said. “We have got several days travel
ahead of us and the sooner we can get away from the de Rosa patrols, the
better.”

“Agreed. Where are we
going?”

“Wales.”

She pulled her face out
of his neck, looking him in the eye. “Wales? Why so far away?”

“Simply because it is a
safe place for us. ‘Tis far away from your father and I believe it would be
best for now.”

“And then what?”

“When their anger has
cooled, we go to Chateroy.”

Derica thought on that a
moment. “My father can stay angry a long time. It might be years before we can
safely live at Chateroy. Even then, if we are discovered, I cannot guarantee
that he will not lay siege in order to avenge me. He will consider me, after
all, stolen property.”

“The lady is as smart as
she is beautiful,” Garren winked at her. “But Chateroy is my home, and my
inheritance, and I intend to occupy her as such in time. Besides, my father has
so much money that who is to say we cannot buy your father off given time. For
his troubles, so to speak.”

Derica shook her head.
“You cannot buy my father’s pride or loyalty.”

“Then here is your
choice; you may ride home tonight and beg his forgiveness and live your life in
peace. Or, you can stay with me and spend the rest of your life avoiding your
family. Well?”

He was half-serious,
half-not. Derica cocked an eyebrow. “Will you let me think on it?”

“No.”

She scowled; he grinned.
When he began to pepper her cheek and neck with kisses, and finally gentle
bites, she squealed and began laughing. In the shadows of the room, Gabrielle
cleared her throat softly.

“Temperance, my good
knight,” she admonished her brother softly. “The lady is not yours yet in the
eyes of God. Better to finish what is necessary so that you may be free to do
with her as you please.”

Garren and Derica
stopped their play, knowing she was correct.  They had been so thrilled with
the reality of seeing each other again that the larger formality had been
momentarily pushed aside. The sooner they were married, the better for all
concerned.

“I assumed we would find
a priest on our journey to Wales,” Garren said. “I am not sure there is time at
the moment to do this properly.”

“If there is time to
play, there is time to wed,” Gabrielle said firmly. “Four miles to the north is
a Jesuit monastery. I would have you become man and wife before you leave this
place, Garren. I ask this of you.”

“Then let us send for a
priest. I, too, am eager to claim this woman as my own in the eyes of God.”

Near dawn, Garren and
Derica were married by a disheveled priest who smelled strongly of sacramental
wine. All of the sisters in the convent were witness. The Mother Abbess even
gave Derica a simple silver wedding band, the kind that the nuns received when
they took their final vows and became brides of Christ.  When Garren slipped
the ring on her finger, she couldn’t remember ever having been so happy.

 As the priest droned on
in Latin, Garren and Derica lost themselves in each other’s eyes, feeling
emotions they’d never felt before, elated that they were going to spend a
lifetime together. Upon their meeting a week prior, neither one of them could
have imagined what their marriage would have truly become. When they knelt for
the final prayer and received the Blessing, Derica could hardly concentrate on
what was being said.  All she could think of was her husband and the blissfully
happy life they would have.

It never occurred to her
that happiness would come at a price.

 

 

         

         

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER NINE

 

 

Riding with Garren was
far different than riding with Fergus. For instance, she had always ridden
behind Fergus in the saddle, but Garren put her in front of him. He held her
tightly with one hand and reined the muscular charger with the other.  As dawn
broke on the first day of their wedded life together, they found themselves on
a misty road surrounded by dripping trees. It was wet and cold, but wrapped in
Garren’s arms, Derica had never felt warmer, or more content.

The nuns had worked
furiously during the night to clean and hem the pale blue gown that had caused
so much trouble. It was packed away in the borrowed satchel the sisters had
filled for her. She was dressed in a heavy broadcloth peasant gown that was a
bit too snug, the very same garment she had taken her vows in. Her waist was
narrow, her hips shapely and her breasts full, and she filled out the dress
better than a peasant ever could have. The bodice of the gown was crisscrossed
with a series of string ties, which Sister Mary Felicitas and another nun had
worked furiously to cinch up across her rounded breasts. She had spent a good
deal of time exhaling to shrink down while they pulled. Finally, the garment
was laced, but Derica was clearly squeezed into it like a cork ready to pop.

Garren had thought the
dress quite pleasing on her figure. He had no complaints whatsoever. But she
was obviously out of place in such a plain dress, like a beautiful painting set
in a latrine. With her hair plaited into a long braid that tumbled over one
shoulder, she looked positively angelic. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her,
and he made sure that he always had hold of her with one hand or the other.
Never in his life had he felt more fortunate, and the more time passed, the
more deeply attached he could feel himself becoming.  Gone were the fears he
had possessed when he had first met her; he had surrendered fully to his
emotions and had never been happier in his life.

Other books

Cornered! by James McKimmey
A Hundred and One Days: A Baghdad Journal by Asne Seierstad, Ingrid Christophersen
Sweet Little Lies by J.T. Ellison
Cotton Comes to Harlem by Chester Himes
Red Light by J. D. Glass
Rashi by Elie Wiesel
Wilderness Target by Sharon Dunn
Spark by Brigid Kemmerer