To Capture Her Heart (8 page)

Kissing her mother quickly on her cheek, she turned and jogged from the castle. Her mood was light as she traveled. She went over the note she had penned to Terric a million times in her head, hoping she had worded it just right and had not sounded overly eager. Her brother would grow even more suspicious than her mother if she wasn't careful.

Before she knew it, Gwendolyn had reached the village. She wasted no time posting the notes she carried, desperately hoping she would hear back from Terric in a timely manner. Her stomach began to rumble, reminding her that in her haste she had not yet broken her fast. She wandered happily over to the baker's cart and purchased a sweet roll, hungrily devouring it in record time. Next, she grabbed a juicy looking apple from a vendor's cart then dug in her bag for a coin.

Walking leisurely through the village, she took her time looking through the goods and wares on display in the shops as she finished eating her apple all the way down to the core before discarding it. Licking the last remnants of juice from her fingers, she decided to pay Jarin a visit.

Approaching the Blacksmith shop, Jarin was nowhere to be seen. Impulsively, Gwendolyn marched right up to the entrance and pushed her way in. She was immediately assaulted by the suffocating heat coming from the furnace. Jarin was furiously pumping the bellows up and down while a large man, presumably his father, stood at the forge, a rod of iron stuck deep in the flames.

Both men turned and looked at her, but it was the father that shouted, “Get out of here, lass.”

Gwendolyn froze, her eyes darting to Jarin. “Gwendolyn, 'tis no place for a lady to be. Go outside and I will come speak with you in a moment.”

“You will keep working, boy.” His father grumbled angrily. “You can see your lass later.”

Gwendolyn didn't like the way he called her Jarin's lass. She took a step closer to the forge and meant to tell him exactly that, but Jarin pleaded with her, “Please, just go.”

Not wanting to upset either of the men, she turned and did as she was told.  The cool outside air was refreshing after being in the overly hot shop. She paced back and forth, anxious to speak with Jarin so she could return home.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Jarin came out of the shop. “Gwendolyn, you can't just come into the shop. We are busy in there; 'tis dangerous inside. 'Tis no place for a lady, that's for sure.”

“But I needed to speak with you,” she explained, coming to a stop. “I just posted a letter to my brother. My mother has written him to arrange my entrance.”

His eyes lit up expectantly, his face breaking into a wide, lovestruck grin. “'Tis excellent news. When will it be held?”

“We don't know yet, but I'm desperately hoping that Terric will agree to hold it in three weeks’ time.”

Jarin clasped one of her hands into his own, “I can hardly wait.”
“Nor can I. Everything will be perfect---”

He cut her off, “I quite agree. Perfect.”

“It will be so much easier to escape to the magic festival from there. But I need your help.”

“Of course,” he said readily. “Then mayhap I could speak to your brother about courting you.”

“What?” she looked at him oddly.

“You know,” he said sheepishly, “after your entrance has been granted and all, I thought that mayhap I'd ask King Terric for his permission to court you.”

Gwendolyn didn't want to disappoint him by outright refusing his pursuit. She needed his help if she wanted to get to the magic festival.

“Mayhap that can be arranged,” she said hesitantly before expertly changing topics. “But first, let's talk about my plan. I will need you to come to Herfordshire Castle. You will ask to speak to my mother, but of course I will come as well. You will tell her that you have heard of her extraordinary healing abilities and that your mother is dangerously ill. You will beg her to come heal your ill mother.”

“I fail to see how this will help your plight.”

“Let me finish. After we have listened to your case, I will beg my mother to let me go be the one to heal your mother. I will convince her to let me go by telling her that I am eager to work on my healing, that I am starting to realize it may be my given gift after all. Surely she won't refuse. I will meet up with you to travel to your home and while she thinks I am off caring for your poor mother, we will really be going to the festival.” Her face lit up in a satisfied smile. “Isn't it a brilliant idea?”

Jarin rocked back slightly, running one hand nervously through his hair. “Do you really think it'll work?”

“Oh Jarin,” she was gripping his arm now. “It just has to. Please say you'll help me.”

Just like she had figured, it didn't take much pleading before he agreed. “Very well. Of course I will do it. I just need to figure out what I will tell my own family. Surely they wouldn't be pleased to find out I ran off with a girl I was not married to, to attend a magic festival nonetheless. Mayhap you'd agree to marry me first, then we could do as we wished without anyone's interference.”

“Don't be silly; there wouldn't be time for a wedding. Besides, you have several weeks to figure out an excuse. I have faith in you.” Gwendolyn was almost positive that Jarin's chest puffed out at the praise.

“Now get back inside before you get on your father's bad side. As soon as I've heard from my brother, I will send word.”

With a nod of his head, Jarin quickly returned to the shop, the wheels in his mind turning furiously as he tried to figure out how to pull off Gwendolyn's grand plan.

***

“You swag-bellied brute!” Gavin swore as the fawn-colored mastiff, that was his latest in a long list of undesirable assignments, came barreling towards him, nearly knocking him over as he wiped a trail of drool across his midsection.

The beast called Talbot was King Terric's latest addition to his new family. He had explained to Gavin that he was eager to own a dog for the first time in his life. His former life as a defender did not allow him to have such a pet, and now that he was a wedded man, and a king no less, he was anxious to feel settled. All of that was fine and well, except that now Gavin had the responsibility to take care of the beast when Terric was seeing to his other duties.

From the moment they met, Talbot had not taken kindly to Gavin. In the presence of King Terric or Queen Rosalind, he acted like a saint, like a giant furball with impeccable manners. But as soon as Gavin was alone with Talbot, the dog's personality changed immediately. He growled; he slobbered; he pounced. He was altogether too moody for Gavin's liking. And cleaning up the dreadful beast's droppings stole the prize for the worst task he had ever performed as defender, hands down.

Gavin threaded a rope through the leather collar that had been custom made to fit the beast's enormous neck. It was time for him to take Talbot on his daily walk through the gardens. Unfortunately, Talbot usually ended up being the one who walked him.

As the unlikely pair made their way down the grassy path that led to the gardens, Gavin's mind wandered back to the time in his life he decided to become a defender. Like most young lads, he had been enamored with the thought of defending one of Darth's three kings. From the time he was barely learning to walk, he remembered knowing vividly that he would pursue being a defender when he became of age.

He looked forward to the year he turned ten and two years old, knowing that was when he could apply for an apprenticeship at the nearby Herfordshire Castle. His father had died the previous year, but he hadn't let that hinder his dreams. Neither had his mother. He had been young and selfish back then, not once taking the time to think about leaving his mother to care for herself. In his mind, he was doing the noble thing. He was seeking employment to help better both of their lives.

As the years of his training wore on, he felt less and less guilty. He saw her as often as he was able, but his rigorous schedule did not permit frequent visits. A fresh wave of regret washed over him as he remembered his visit home when he turned ten and eight and was ready to leave his apprenticeship and become an official defender.

He used all of his strength to pull Talbot to a halt as the pain of that visit flooded his memory as if it were yesterday. He closed his eyes to the pain, but the simple task did nothing to alleviate the heartache.  All the years melted away as he relived the day as if it had just occurred.

He had returned to the village only to find his childhood home occupied by another family. He briefly wondered if his mother had moved and forgotten to tell him. How absurd, he thought, as he made his way to the neighbors to inquire about her whereabouts. That's when he found out she had died.

The air was sucked out of his lungs as the man, his lifelong neighbor, informed him that his mother had died months prior. She had taken ill shortly after his last visit, but refused to let him know. She knew how important his dream of being a defender was to him and found her own declining health would only get in the way of his career ambitions, and she refused to hold him back.

He laughed sardonically which only served to startle Talbot. The beast growled ferociously at Gavin before resuming his walk, forcing Gavin to follow behind. If only his mother could see him now, he thought bitterly. She'd be almost as ashamed as he was of what he'd become.

Chapter 11

A Lousy Swine

The last two and a half weeks had crept by insanely slow, even though Millicent had attempted to keep Gwendolyn steadily busy in their haste to prepare for their upcoming trip to Herfordshire Castle. The first several days after Gwendolyn had posted the missive to Terric inquiring about her entrance had driven her half crazy. She worried on more than one occasion that her letter had somehow not gotten to her brother. Just when she was about to send a second missive, his reply came, and just as she had hoped, he agreed to schedule her entrance for three weeks’ time. It would coincide perfectly with the magic festival, though no one other than Jarin was aware of that.

As soon as the reply from Terric had come, her mother scribbled out a hasty response, ensuring him that they would arrange to travel to Herfordshire Castle for the festivity. Gwendolyn anxiously and swiftly traveled to the village to post the response and to tell Jarin of the good news. He had been elated and they had spent the remainder of the morning going over every last detail of their plan.

They had arrived at Herfordshire Castle the prior evening, and now that they were there, Gwendolyn began to grow even more anxious about her upcoming plans. She had never wanted anything as badly as she wanted to attend the magic festival. Of course, she couldn't explain to her family that was the reason for her abundant cheerful attitude, and instead, they misplaced her excitement at the upcoming festival for excitement at her upcoming entrance.

“Tell me, Gwendolyn, has some new lad caught your eye?” She was walking down the corridor with Rosalind, heading to her personal chambers where she was to have the final fitting of the gown she would wear to her entrance.

“Nay, not at all. Surely if one had, you would be amongst the first to know.”

“Then why all of a sudden do you insist on having your entrance? I never have taken you for the type who craves the attention of dancing in front of a crowd.”

“Right you are,” Gwendolyn said with a nervous laugh. She wasn't sure how to explain her anxiousness without lying outright to her dearest friend. It didn't sit well with her.

She debated momentarily if she should divulge the truth to Rosalind, if she could be trusted to keep her secret. But something inside of her knew she couldn't. It wasn't that Rosalind couldn't be trusted. It was just that she was so devoted and in love with Terric that she knew she couldn't possibly keep it from him, and if Terric were to know about her upcoming plans, he would squash them most definitely.

Finally, she settled on an acceptable, yet lame excuse. “I guess I'm just restless, anxious to move on to the next phase of life. I find I'm quite bored back at home without you there to keep me entertained.”

“And you are eager to find some young man to take my place?” Rosalind asked, her eyes sparkling.

Gwendolyn ignored her as they approached the entrance to her guest chamber at Herfordshire Castle. She led the way in where they found a seamstress waiting, a gauzy white gown draped over one arm.

“There you are child,” the woman said, stepping towards her and instructing her to remove her clothing.

She didn't hesitate to do as she was told, quickly removing her green velvet gown and letting it fall haphazardly to the floor. Another servant materialized out of nowhere and retrieved the gown, spreading it carefully on the bed so as not to wrinkle it. Soon the young girl was back at her side, fitting her body with the custom-made corset that was designed to enhance her slight curves and make her appear more womanly.  

She was just about to curse the dratted undergarment, as the serving girl pulled the laces in an effort to squeeze her last living breath out of her, when the girl finally stood back and smiled. “You look very desirable. Very much the woman.”

Gwendolyn doubted that, but turned towards the looking glass to get a glimpse of herself. Sure enough, the girl was right. She gingerly touched her hands to her slender waist, that now appeared even more so. The corset had cinched her waist in more fully, causing her hips to bell outwards in greater contrast, making them appear more full than they were naturally.

When her eyes roamed up to her newly found cleavage, she couldn't contain her laughter. “'Tis amazing what some stiff fabric and lacing can do. I hardly recognize myself.”

Rosalind joined in her laughter. “It does seem sort of absurd, doesn't it? 'Tis funny to think that some proper clothing and a dance performance can transform you into a woman, as if by magic. My own entrance was not something I looked forward to with much eagerness.”

Gwendolyn tipped her head towards Rosalind and asked in a hushed voice, “But tell me, is it worth it?”

“Is what worth it?” Rosalind asked, her own voice lowering to match Gwendolyn's whisper.