The White Lord of Wellesbourne (30 page)

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Authors: Kathryn le Veque

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BOOK: The White Lord of Wellesbourne
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She could not stop the tears.
“Because he was so upset when I spoke to him about your mother. You had warned
me, Matthew. You had told me he was easily upset, but I did not listen. I
thought I could help him. I was afraid I’d driven him to desperation with my clumsy
attempt.”

Matthew was genuinely baffled. 
She was so distressed that he took her carefully in his arms, holding her
against his chest. She seemed so light, so weak.  He pulled her closer.

“You did indeed help him,” he
murmured into her damp hair. “What happened was an accident and nothing more.”
He held her back so he could look into her pale face. “Is that why you ended up
at the church? Did you run away because you thought you had caused his death?”

She sniffled, tears easing as she
found strength in Matthew’s powerful arms. When he held her, all was right in
the world again. She tried to think on what he was saying, but the more she
thought, the more it did not make much sense to her.

“I do not know about a church,”
she said. “I… I remember your father’s accident. I remember walking outside. I
kept walking… I remember that I was upset in thinking I’d finally driven your
father to kill himself. But I do not remember much more than that. What
happened to me?”

He could tell by her expression
that she was being completely truthful. He gathered her up against him again,
so incredibly grateful that she was alive.  God only knew what could have
happened to her had the fortunes not been kinder.

“It doesn’t matter,” he
whispered. “All that matters is that you are here, and you are going to get
well. I shall not leave your side, I swear it.”

“Then you are not angry with me
for upsetting your father?”

“He was not upset. You helped him
more than you know. And what happened to him was an accident.”

“My own stupid fault,” Adam put
in.

Alixandrea pulled her face from
Matthew’s shoulder, looking over at her father-in-law. He seemed well enough. 
Everything horrible thought she had over the past day, or few days that she
could remember, seemed like a nightmare. She leaned back against her husband,
relieved and spent.

“Then I must tell you how glad I
am to see you,” she said to Adam. “For I never thought to again.”

Matthew kissed her forehead,
lingering over it, allowing himself one last stab of fear and pain at the events
of the past few days.  It was over, thank God.

“Nor did we, you.”

 

***

 

London wasn’t anything she had
imagined it to be. Living far to the north as she had all of her life, she had
built up a vision of the city that was something akin to Heaven.  She had
imagined finely dressed people everywhere and streets paved of gold.  As she
rode in the carriage just behind her husband’s war horse and the outskirts of
the berg loomed into view, nothing could have been further from the truth.

The dirt streets were full of
mud, the gutters fragrant with human feces, urine, and in many cases, animal
carcasses. After the heavy rains of the past few days, the sun was had come
out, heating up the earth and creating a stench that had to be experienced to
be believed.  The men could smell it, but it did not offend them as it did the
women. It wasn’t long before Alixandrea and Caroline gave up their
sight-seeing, pulled their heads back into the carriage, and plugged their
noses.

Adam was still on the mend and
did not make the trip. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John were in full battle mode,
however, and rode in various positions around the carriage, surrounded by the
fifty men-at-arms that Gaston had left behind at Rosehill. 

Gaston had returned to Windsor
several days prior when it was clear that Alixandrea was going to reclaim her
health.  From Windsor, he had moved their troops to London. Whatever activity
was taking place at this particular time was taking place at the Tower of
London, and the great stone bastion beat with a pulse as the heart of England.

It had been nine days since
Alixandrea’s brush with the horrendous fever. She had regained her strength
quickly, eating whatever Aunt Livia would put in front of her.  She also
quickly discovered that the old lady did not spend much time with the females
of the Wellesbourne family; her time was spent with her beloved nephews. 
Matthew said it was because she craved male attention and it was clear that
Aunt Livia did not like to share their attention. Whatever the case, she had
been present during Alixandrea’s recovery only to force food down her throat.
Alixandrea’s impression of her was, as of yet, undetermined.  She could not
decide between thinking her to be a sweet old woman or a self-absorbed shrew.

On this fine and sunny day,
Alixandrea felt better than she had in a long while. If the stench hadn’t been
so bad, the day would have been perfect. She could look out of the carriage
window and see her husband’s legs as he rode astride his charger. True to his
word, he hadn’t left her side since she had emerged from her fever except on
rare occasion. 

Even now, he kept dipping his
head down to catch a glimpse of her in the carriage as if to make sure she was
still there. His actions made her smile.

“You keep watching me as if I am
going to disappear,” she said to him the next time he dipped his helmed head.
“I promise that I am not going anywhere.”

She could not see his expression
because his visor was down.  He slowed the charger so that he could move closer
to the window.

“I know this carriage makes you
ill,” he said. “I am simply making sure you are well.”

She leaned out of the window,
gazing up at him. The sun was bright and she squinted. “I am well,” she assured
him. “When will we arrive at the Tower?”

“Shortly,” he said. “But I
thought you wanted to visit the Street of the Jewelers.”

Her expression bloomed. “I do,”
she exclaimed. “When will we be there?”

Luke was a few paces behind
Matthew, listening to the conversation. “Soon enough, my lady,” he answered
before Matthew could. “But I can assure you that there will be nothing within
those stalls that can compare with your beauty. You put the finest adornments
to shame.”

Alixandrea grinned as Matthew
turned his helmed head in the direction of his brother. “Luke, I swear that if
I hear you flatter my wife one more time, you and I shall come to blows. I am
the only one who may flatter her. Do you comprehend?”

Luke put up a hand in surrender,
but Alixandrea was sure he was smiling.

“Were I not married, I am sure
your honeyed words would have worked their magic,” she told him. “As it is, I
fear you have only roused my husband’s anger.”

“That is not hard to do, my lady,
where you are concerned.”

She continued grinning at Luke as
the knight waved to her and slowed his charger, enough so that the carriage
passed him almost completely. It was clear that he did not want to provoke his
older, bigger brother, in good humor though it might be. They all knew that
Matthew had been particularly sensitive lately where his wife was concerned. Alixandrea
looked up at her husband.

“You did not have to be so cruel
to him,” she said.

“I was not cruel.”

“Will you not lift your visor
when you are speaking to me? I feel as if I am speaking to a statue.”

His response was to flip his
visor up, his blue eyes twinkling at her and a smile playing on his lips.
“Better?”

She nodded. “Verily. Now, tell
me; after the Street of the Jewelers, where are we going?”

“To the Tower.”

“And then what?”

He sighed, lifting an eyebrow.
“Do you always ask so many questions?”

“I do. Please do me the courtesy
of answering.”

He scratched his cheek with a
great mailed glove, glancing about as if he was thinking of a reply. “Well,” he
began, “I suppose you could say that I have a surprise for you.”

Her eyes lit up. “A surprise? What
is it?”

“De Russe has informed me that
the king has arranged a tourney in celebration of the summer season. It seems
that it is becoming an annual event, for he has done the same thing for the
past two years. In any case, the tourney will be the day after tomorrow; a
vast, vulgar spectacle of knights and pageantry. You have never seen anything
like it.”

She clapped her hands in delight.
“And we are going!’

“I am competing.”

Her eyes widened and her hands
froze in mid-clap. “You are competing?”

He nodded. “This is an enormous
tourney and any knight worth his weight in salt pledges to compete.”

Her excitement, so strong at
first, suddenly banked into something dark and brooding.  She simply nodded her
head, trying not to show her true feelings.

“I am sure you will do fine,” she
said quietly. “I.. I am looking forward to the spectacle.”

He was far more astute than she
gave him credit for. “Nay, you are not,” he growled. “What is the matter?”

She shook her head and sat back
in the cab. “Nothing, truly.”

The next thing she realized, the
cab door was flying open and Matthew’s bulk was in the door. Reaching out, he
grasped her by the arm and pulled her out. Somehow, he managed to remount his
charger with her in front of him.  It could not have been very easy if she
hadn’t been somewhat cooperative, and she suspected that she had.  In fact, she
had gone quite willingly.

Seated in front of him with his
massive arm around her, she settled back contentedly. She had grown so
accustomed to him by her side day and night, almost since they had met, that
she was coming to crave it.

“Now,” he rumbled in her ear.
“Why did you look as you did when I told you that I was competing in the
tourney?”

She thought about being evasive
but was coming to realize that did not work with him. “It is foolish, really.”

“Let me be the judge of that. Why
do you not want me to compete?”

She sighed heavily, realizing she
would have to tell him.  “’Tis silly.”

“Tell me.”

She settled back against him,
pressing herself more closely into his armor. Even though it was cold and hard,
still, Matthew was on the other side of the protective metal lining. She swore
she could feel him.

“When I fostered at Pickering,
the earl held a tournament,” she began quietly. “I was perhaps twelve years old
at the time. We had a knight in service at the time, a man sworn to the earl
and, by all accounts, a very fine man. In any case, he competed in the
tournament and made it to the final round. We were all so proud of him. But as
we sat and watched, this fine, strong knight was brought down by a lance that
split and ran great shards into his face and neck. He lingered for four days
before finally passing on.  It was a horrible death.”

He understood, somewhat. “So you
do not want me to compete.”

She turned to look at him, his
sweaty face underneath the raised visor. “Matthew, I cannot bear the thought of
a mistake or an accident and losing you to an injury that simply did not have
to happen.  I would just… die.”

His blue eyes glittered at her.
“I have competed in many tournaments and have yet to be badly injured in one.
In fact, I have won more times than I have lost. But I have never had anyone in
the lists cheering for me as you will. The thought of it makes me very proud.”

She did not have the courage to
ask him not to compete. To do so would be to display doubt in his abilities as
a knight.  She turned around and faced forward.

“As you will make me proud, I am
sure.”

His lips were suddenly on her
ear, kissing her softly. In spite of the fact that his metal helm was knocking
her softly in the head, Alixandrea closed his eyes blissfully as his lips moved
across her lobe.

“I will not compete if it will
upset you,” he whispered. “I only want to make you happy. I could not bear it
if you were miserable.”

She put her arm up, encircling
his neck as his lips moved to her jaw. His warm mouth was sensual, warm,
inviting.

“I will not be miserable, Matt,”
she murmured. “But I would be lying if I said that I am not concerned for your
safety.”

“Matt!” Mark was hailing him from
the opposite side of the carriage. He reined his big red charger around so that
he could gain a look at his brother. “The Street of Jewelers is coming up on
the left.   I shall take the men on to the Tower.”

Matthew moved his mouth from his
wife’s neck, being careful not to shout in her ear as he replied. “Leave me a
contingent of ten and take the rest.”

“Can I come, too?”

They had almost forgotten about
Caroline, sitting quiet and lonely in the carriage. Both Matthew and Alixandrea
looked over and smiled at her.

“Of course, darling,” Alixandrea
said. “In fact, perhaps Mark will join us.”

Caroline shook her head even as
Matthew called out the invitation to his brother. Mark did not reply directly,
but he muttered orders to John, who, along with Luke, continued on to the Tower
as Mark, Matthew, Alixandrea, Caroline and ten men at arms lingered behind.  

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