Return of the Rose (26 page)

It couldn’t be. She felt dizzy.

He must have sensed her imbalance for he dismounted and his arms came around her and she could feel the hard steel of his armor against her chest.

The crowd, the polished and civilized lords and ladies, could barely contain their excitement as they watched the ongoing commotion. Even the king watched in a merry frenzy, as if he knew he couldn’t have summoned more titillating entertainment had he tried.

“Return to your seat,” Derek said as she regained her footing.

“Derek,” she said. “You are the Earl of Kensington; you’re the reason I’ve been sent here…to this century. All this time it was because of you, don’t you see?”

“Take your seat,” he said firmly, “or I will bring you to it myself.” He turned his back to her and went to his steed.

She followed him, still trembling from the shock of discovering that Derek was also the Earl of Kensington.

With help from a squire, Derek mounted his charger before he turned back to her. “‘Twould seem I may be forced to have you confined to your room if you continue to disobey me.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Go,” he said calmly.

“My dearest Amanda,” Robert called to her. “Do not fear, for there will be no later date for this man who dares to call himself a knight.”

Morgan was about to let Robert have a piece of her mind, but stopped herself when she saw Leonie run up and tie her dainty, lacy handkerchief around Derek’s arm. That did it!

Morgan went to stand by Robert’s gigantic horse and glanced about for something to tie on Robert’s arm. She didn’t have a handkerchief, damn it! She tried ripping part of her velvet sleeve but Shayna’s needlework was too good. She tried ripping at the hem.
Damn. Still no luck
. Finally she yanked the ribbon weaved within her braid, causing her hair to fall in a thick veil around her shoulders.

As she gifted Robert with a dazzling smile she tied the ribbon around his wrist.

Saucily, she glanced at Derek and instantly regretted her actions when she saw that he appeared officially ready to kill them both.

There would be no mercy when he jousted this day and the crowd knew it. Even from where they stood, the increasing hordes could feel the undaunted and intrepid vibrations of the two men. The anticipation alone made the unbearable heat suddenly very tolerable for the bloodthirsty crowd.

Derek looked straight at DeChaville, piercing the other’s blue eyes with his threatening gaze of dark rage and said without compassion, “I bid thee make a final prayer, for I shall presently cast you down from your seat so swiftly that you shall never rise again.”

“That shall be according to the will of Heaven, Sir Knight, and not according to thy own mortal will,” Robert said without diffidence.

Morgan pleaded with them both to forget the ridiculous joust, but neither would pay her any attention, and she had no choice but to return to her seat when one of the squires led her to it.

She sat tense and pale, worried sick at the thought that Robert would soon be dead. An overwhelming numbness seeped inside of her as each knight saluted the other before riding to his station. Without waiting for the herald’s cries or the high-pitched blows of the trumpeters, the two knights shouted out and launched forth.

They met with a thunderclap of hooves hitting dirt and the dust rose high and a giant sigh escaped the crowd as the dust cleared and they saw that both men still sat firm upon their mounts.

The trumpets sounded, a mere whisper to Morgan’s ears. The horses whirled about to start at their allotted places. Morgan thought of Amanda, wondering how she would ever find Wilmead Farm so that she could tell her how sorry she was that Robin Hood had been killed.

The knights passed a second time, and she put her head to Odelia’s shoulder, squeezing her arm when Robert’s helmet was knocked clean off. Blood ran from his mouth and cheek, but he held his seat and wasn’t overthrown.

The two men returned to their stations and requested new lances. Even from here Morgan could see that the new tips were sharper, deadlier. She grabbed hold of Odelia’s hand. “Why are they doing that? Why are they taking a new weapon when nothing was wrong with the other?”

Worriedly, Odelia shook her head in wonder.

Both men saluted the king and when the brass horns fell silent they charged once more. The hooves of their mounts were again like thunder and when the sunlight hit both knights their armor flamed like lightning, and the people shouted their approval as the two men came together, lashing at each other with fearful strength. Morgan blinked to rid her eyes of the blinding tears, praying that neither man would die.

For a split second no one could see how the battle went. The crowds shouted in deafening roars, and she strained every muscle to see beyond the dust. Splinters of wood were cast into the air. Whole pieces of armor flew off from their bodies, and yet neither man yielded as they came from the cloud of dust, turned, and charged once again, this time without bothering to return to their starting places.

Derek’s horse appeared to fall back slightly. Robert noticed the slip and charged toward him, hitting her husband a great blow with his sword.

Morgan cried out in agony. The sword stuck fast, and neither man could pull it out.

Morgan’s heart sank as Derek slumped over and fell from his horse. Her body felt powerless and numb. Derek got to his knees and tried to stand before stumbling like a blind man before he finally hit the earth.

Morgan made it to his side before Robert made a full circle back to where Derek lay. She could barely see through her tears as she bent over him. The beautiful armor was dented now and blood seeped through his leather tunic where the armor had been punctured and where part of the awful lance still protruded.

She looked up at Robert, glad that he was alive but hating him for what he’d done. She was furious with both of them for bringing it to this, and yet, the only thing that mattered was whether Derek lived. For she felt certain she, too, would die if Derek, her beloved Earl of Kensington, were to expire.

Absorbed in her own pain that Derek’s very life slipped away with every drop of blood, she didn’t look up right away when Hugo came forward to carry him off the field. Robert, too, came close, gently taking her elbow. She looked at him with unbridled fury ready to strike if he continued to try and take her away. He let go of her arm, sadly defeated, and instead helped Hugo remove the lance from Derek’s limp frame.

Morgan removed Derek’s helmet and threw it aside. “Derek, talk to me, please.” Tears clouded her vision. “I never meant for you to get hurt,” she said, placing his head tenderly upon her lap as she stroked his cheek and cradled him in her arms. Her voice was raw with agony. “What have I done?”

~~~~

“Don’t let him die,” Morgan prayed.

The castle’s surgeon wiped his scissors and scalpel with a solution resembling egg whites. Derek lay on a hard cot covered with clean linen. His handsome face appeared bloodless. Other than a few shuffled footsteps and the gentle clinking of instruments being cleaned, the room was eerily quiet. Odelia and Hugo assisted the surgeon in stripping Derek of the rest of his armor and then his tunic. The physician took Derek’s pulse while Odelia washed the blood from his chest and shoulder.

Morgan winced when she caught a glimpse of the gaping wound. Odelia finished her task and came to her.

“This is all my fault,” Morgan said.

“‘Twill do no good to blame yourself, my lady.”

“I shouldn’t have gone out to the fields. Robert was right. He said that by coming to his side I’d given him the strength of four knights. I would do anything to take it back.”

Odelia patted Morgan’s hand before she returned to the doctor’s side to see if she could be of further service.

Morgan stepped closer, saw the fine lines etched on Derek’s face, her husband’s face, the Earl of Kensington’s face.

To think the man she’d been looking for had been right before her eyes all along. He couldn’t die. She was sent here to save him, not send him to an early grave. How could this be happening?

The physician was way too old, she thought, as she watched him lean closer to get a look at the wound. He appeared half blind. As the man used a knife to probe the wound for pieces of metal, Derek twisted in agony, semi-unconscious, but not immune to pain. Hugo held him down while Odelia liberally applied a gooey balm. Then the doctor hastily stitched the wound and bandaged the shoulder with wide strips of cloth.

“‘Tis the best I can do,” the physician said, his voice weary from the effort. “The bluish color that already spreads, tells me the wound might be infected.” He looked to Odelia. “Keep it clean, for if the rot should set in he will surely perish.”

Hugo took the old man by his bony shoulders and hastily led him out the door before the man could say anything more.

Matti entered hours later and they were all relieved to see her. It was already nightfall and Matti was red in the face and out of breath. “I came as quickly as I could,” she said.

Matti looked at Derek’s pale face, made the sign of the cross, praying quietly before speaking again. “Poor man,” Matti whispered. “He has been ever so hungry for love,” she added after a long pause. She took hold of his limp hand and kept her eyes on Derek as she spoke. “A bit of kindness here, a smile there, that is what he craves and needs most of all. ‘Twould make your insides weep to have witnessed the icy coldness his father lent upon him.”

“Those scars,” Morgan said, noticing for the first time how each thin faint line resembled the other, “what happened?”

Matti closed her eyes.

Morgan’s stomach turned. “Did his father do that to him?”

The silence was maddening as it dawned on Morgan that there might have been some truth to the gossip she’d overheard last night. “Is this the reason Derek’s mother left…was she beaten too?”

A tear fell across Matti’s cheek as she nodded. “Lord Vanguard has sworn Hugo and me to secrecy on the matter. Though I had thought he would have told you by now. A horrible day it was the day his mother left. She hardly escaped with her life.”

“But why would she leave Derek with a man like that?” No wonder Derek’s soul was so badly bruised.

“She came back for her son; she did. With a small band of friends for protection, but Simon refused to let her see him. She died before she managed to gain help from either the king or the church.”

“Does Derek know the truth?”

“I tried to tell him on many occasions, but he refuses to talk of his mother. As far as he’s concerned she never existed.”

“I overheard others talking about his mother. I never got the chance to tell him,” Morgan said, stepping closer to Derek and touching lightly at one of his scars on his arm. “How could his own father do such a thing?”

“Worse than the beatings was the fact that Derek did all he could to win his father’s love,” Matti answered sadly.

“What did he do?” Odelia asked.

“He would make things. Surely you know of what I speak. Little things that make a child proud: a mud sculpture…an awkward sketch. Sometimes he’d spend all day with a chore he thought might please his father. But he did these things continuously, in a desperate, child-like frenzy, hoping to catch his father’s attention. A fruitless endeavor, I’m afraid. Never a glimpse or a nod, or acknowledgment of any kind did he get from his father. We all tried to make up for Simon’s neglect,” Matti said, smoothing Derek’s forehead with a wet cloth. “Hugo tried hardest of all, but the lad never gave up, not for a long, long time.”

Odelia appeared hypnotized by the story.

“More than ten years ago,” Matti went on, “when Lord Vanguard turned twenty. Aye, that was when something inside of Lord Vanguard died. It seemed he no longer cared if his father existed at all. Although Lord Vanguard and Hugo had become close, and the young lord had the loyalty of his father’s people, he no longer smiled or took any joy in life. He began to concentrate on his training instead, becoming fearless with his sword. Strangely,” Matti said as if she could even now picture Derek in her mind all those years ago, “after Lord Vanguard stopped seeking his father’s attentions, Simon suddenly took notice of him. Only after Derek no longer cared, did Simon Vanguard dare to speak to the boy, who, of course by then, was a grown man. I believe Simon went to his grave a deeply remorseful man.”

Matti looked Morgan square in the eye. “Until you came, my dear, only then did Braddock see a change in their lord. So abrupt was the change in him ‘twould make a chameleon green with envy the way his colors changed so quickly. God’s mercy child, you have made the man’s heart smile again. A sight we have not seen for many years. So be glad for what you have given him…no matter what happens now. ‘Tis a miracle you were sent to him.”

“Let us not give up yet,” Odelia said as she pushed her way to Derek’s side. “The king’s physician said there was still a chance.”

A miracle
, Morgan thought.
A true miracle
.

Morgan watched Odelia clean the flesh around the wound, trying to make Derek more comfortable. Watching Odelia and Matti huddle over him renewed her hope.

Hope
. The impalpable thing she had thrived on as a child. Hope…that wonderful feeling of wishing for something with unwavering and confident expectation. It was an unrelenting desire she’d given up on when all the hoping in the world had failed to produce that which she desired most. Had hope made her parents come for her? Had hope made her any friends? She shook her head and pushed her thoughts to the back of her mind, for if ever there was a reason to begin hoping again, now was the time.

“I want you both to get some rest. I’m taking over now,” Morgan said.

Odelia was reluctant to leave until Morgan added, “We will all take care of him in shifts. If we’re going to help him get through this, we’ll need to take turns.”

~~~~

Morgan stood by the window, staring out at the huge pale moon that hovered over Windsor. Four nights had passed since Derek had been wounded.
When was he going to wake up
? Her stomach knotted as she glanced over her shoulder at him. He looked deathly pale. Her husband was the Earl of Kensington. But he was also Derek Vanguard: kind, yet courageous; strong yet tender; stubborn and bullheaded. She smiled fondly as she remembered dancing with him beneath the stars.