Candace C. Bowen - A Knight Series 01 (6 page)

Warin stalked forward, forcing her to step back in alarm. “Reina is
also my sister.” Fisting his hands, he ground out, “Think you, I am ignorant of
your treatment of her?”

“You would take her side over that of your own mother’s?”

“I will take her side over anyone’s.” At her look of outrage, he
continued, “Know this as well, mother. Unless you change your ways, when I am
Lord of Kenwick, there will be no place for you within my hall.”

Tears of panic glittered in Baldith's dark eyes.
 
“How can you be so cruel to your own flesh
and blood?”

“I learned from the best,” he scoffed bitterly.

“Keep her away from his lordship, Warin. Or I shall.” With a last glare
at Reina, she stormed from the chapel, stumbling across the fallen door on her
way out.
     

Seeing her go, Reina collapsed sobbing onto the dirt floor.

Kneeling beside her, Warin wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Tipping
her chin up so she would look at him. “She is unworthy of your tears, Reina.”

He held her as she released the misery she had tried so hard to keep
hidden from him.

Raising her tear-streaked face to his, he leaned back to wipe her
cheeks with the hem of his tunic.

She flinched when he blotted the cut high on her cheek.
 

“I shall be there the day I obtain my knighthood, Reina. I vow it.”

Cupping his cheek, she looked at him through shining eyes.
“Just be happy Warin. It is all I ask of you.”

* * * *

Stepping over the lip of the bathing tub, Fulke slipped into his black
silk dressing gown. Running his fingers through his wet hair, he replayed the
odd confrontation with Lady Baldith in the courtyard.
 
Seeing it as a ploy to separate him from
Reina, it angered him Baldith would consider him fool enough to believe otherwise.

Forced to accompany Sibilla to the mews, he soon realized she knew
nothing about the birds of prey housed there. Sir Everard did have an
impressive array of hawks and falcons. Interested in stocking his own mews at
Castell Maen, he spoke at length to the falconer as Sibilla stayed as far away
from the birds as possible.
 
Seeing her
obvious aversion to the place, he lingered for some time.

Mentally planning his stock of gyrfalcons, sakers and lanners, he heard
the door open, assuming serfs had come to drain the tub.
 

Hearing Sibilla’s shrill voice, he whirled around in surprise.
 
“I hope this is not a bad time, Fulke.”

Her eyes stroked leisurely over the length of him.
 
Clothed in bright red and blue, Sibilla’s
plain, broad features appeared even more sallow.
 

Crossing the chamber towards him, she slowed her pace when he scowled.
Stopping altogether, when he coldly replied, “As a matter of fact, it is a
highly inappropriate time, Mistress Sibilla.
 
To be so bold, one would be led to believe that you have an unchaste
familiarity with male visitors.”

Her callous regard of Reina made it near impossible for him to be
chivalrous, having her brazenly attempt to seduce him, he would not abide. If
someone were to see them in such a compromising situation, he would be forced
to accept her.

Rudely brushing past her, he strode to the door to open it.
 
“I shall see you in the hall at supper,
Mistress Sibilla.”

Stepping past, she brushed up against him to pause in the doorway.
 
A smug smile lifting her thin lips, she
boldly laid a hand on his chest.
 

Following her gaze down the passage, he locked on Reina’s pain-filled
face.
 
Before he could speak, she lowered
her eyes.
 

He called to her as she rushed past, “Reina, please...” Realizing his
mistake, he cursed.
   

Moving to brush past Sibilla, she blocked his path.
 
“No need Fulke, she cannot tell anyone.”
Sibilla laughed at her own joke.

Furious, Fulke bit his tongue to stop himself from uttering a harsh
reply.
 
Roughly pulling away from her
grip, he re-entered his chamber.

“Code of Chivalry, be damned,” he snarled, slamming the door in her
surprised face.

Imagining what Reina must be thinking, he hastened to dress.
 
He would not have her believe anything had
happened with Sibilla.

Recalling the mar on her cheek, his fury threatened to overwhelm
him.
 
He had no doubt, what caused
it.
 

In the short time since he had known Reina, he had caused her nothing
but pain. Slamming his fist into the oak wardrobe, he clenched his teeth to
keep from shouting out in agony.
 

* * * *

On the verge of tears, Reina entered the hall to answer her father’s
summons.
 
Sitting at the table beside
Baldith, they looked up at her approach.
 
Focusing on their guest, she crossed the hall to join them.
  

Father Godfrey stood with a welcoming smile on his warm, round face.

Reaching the table, he extended a hand to her. “What a pleasure it is
to see you again, Mistress Reina.
 
I
beseech you pardon an old priest his belatedness.”

Too distraught to smile, Reina lightly squeezed his hand.
 
Balding with merry blue eyes, Father Godfrey
had always been kind to her.

Assisting her to a seat beside him, he gazed with concern at the wound
on her cheek.
 
“Pray what happened to the
lass this time?”

Baldith sadly shook her head.
 
“I
implore her not to spend so much time in the woods, Father.
 
She keeps running into tree branches.”

Sir Everard scowled from beside his wife, yet remained silent.
  

Concerned, Father Godfrey turned back to Reina.
 
“You must be more careful around trees in the
future, lass.
 
On my last visit, you bore
a bruise under your eye from the very same thing.” Patting her hand, he sighed,
“I must confess, I had hopes for a brief respite before our long journey.
 
Nevertheless, your dear mother has been
telling me how very anxious you are to reach the convent.”

Reina’s heart pounded in dread as she waited for his next words.

He smiled, believing she would be pleased.
 
“We shall depart for Rotheram at daybreak. Is
that soon enough for you, lass?”

Glancing at her father, Reina’s heart sank further when he refused to
meet her gaze.

Father Godfrey touched her hand to get her attention.
 
“Fear not. Your father is sending two of his
men as escort to see to your safety.”
 
Taking in her stricken expression, he looked puzzled. “You are pleased
with this news, are you not, lass?”

From the corner of her eye, Reina could see Baldith stiffen.
 
Averting her eyes, she nodded.

Father Godfrey clapped his hands happily. “Then all is settled.”

Reina took several deep breaths to keep from bursting into tears.
 
In their haste to see her gone, an aging
priest would not be permitted to rest after his long journey.
 
Now she would not even have a chance to say
goodbye to the villagers.

Tears blurred her vision as she stepped from the table to drop into a
quick curtsey. Skimming her father’s brooding regard as a way of excusing
herself, she avoided Baldith’s triumphant gaze entirely.

* * * *

Just missing Reina, Fulke entered the hall in the midst of preparations
for the evening meal.
 
Serfs hastened
about, avoiding the hounds wandering underfoot in the hopes of snatching a
morsel from an over-laden tray.

Intent on finding Reina, he spotted Sir Everard seated at one of the
tables with an elder priest.
 
The very
last thing he needed was a lengthy conversation with a priest.
 

Moving swiftly to the door, his hand closed on the latch.
  

“Ah, there you are, Baron Erlegh.
 
I wondered what had become of you,” Sir Everard called out to him.

Smothering a groan, Fulke dropped his hand.

Sir Everard gestured to the priest as both men stood.
 
“Baron Erlegh, I would like to introduce you
to our priest, Father Godfrey.”

Before Fulke could respond, Father Godfrey exclaimed, “Your lordship.
It is indeed a great pleasure to see you again.”

“Thank you Father.” He tried to place where he had seen the priest
before.

“I am not sure you remember me, your lordship.
 
We met shortly after the White Ship sinking.”

Hearing mention of the tragedy, Fulke frowned. “I am sorry Father, I do
not recall our meeting.”

“Oh yes,” Father Godfrey exclaimed.
 
“I happened to be in Normandy at the time.
 
Riders came to the Abbey seeking priests to
bless the dead.
 
I arrived at the channel
just as the poor souls started washing ashore.
 
It is a shame the prince’s body went unrecovered. It was the darkest of
days for our beloved king.
 
Perchance it
would have brought him comfort if the prince were properly shriven.”
 

Seeing he had a rapt audience in Sir Everard, he rambled on, “Even
amidst our somber duty, his lordship’s courageous exploits at the Battle of
Bremule were bandied amongst the men.
 
I
would wager he saved the king’s life that day.
 
The sinner, William Crispin surely would have succeeded were it not for
Baron Erlegh.”
 
He turned back to Fulke.
“At least God in his wisdom saw fit to grant us victory over France before the
tragedy.
 
King Louis will think twice
before engaging King Henry over Normandy again, aye your lordship?”

Weary of the topic, Fulke abruptly changed the subject. “Do you visit
Kenwick long, Father?”

Resting his pudgy hands on his belly, Father Godfrey laughed. “Not near
as long as I would like, your lordship.
 
We depart for the convent in Rotherham at lauds.”
 
Glancing shrewdly at Sir Everard, he
murmured, “I do have enough time to hear the Lord and Lady’s confessions before
I depart, however.”

Surprised, Fulke asked, “Are your visits often of such short duration,
Father?”
 

Before Father Godfrey could answer, Sir Everard gestured to the steps.
“In that case, I believe it best we seek out Lady Baldith before supper,
Father.”

Nodding agreeably, Father Godfrey beamed at Fulke. “It has truly been a
pleasure, your lordship. Perhaps the next time we meet, you shall recall me.”

Fulke dipped his head. “You may count on it.
 
I wish you a safe journey on the morrow.”

With a curt nod at Fulke, Sir Everard led Father Godfrey to the kitchen
level.

Fulke briefly watched them a moment, perplexed, before striding to the
door.

He stood outside on the top step as a cold wind gusted through the
courtyard.
 
Staring off towards the
village, he wondered what would become of Reina after Warin left.
 
Unable to free his mind from thoughts of her,
he cursed aloud for his weakness.
 

Envisioning all the harm that could befall her, he convinced himself
her sorrowful plight had weakened his rigid control.

Approaching the chapel in the hopes Reina would be alone at prayer, he
mulled over the cause of the broken door resting alongside the small
building.
 
Seeing no light coming from
within, he contemplated a trip to the village when he heard loud laughter
coming from the stables.
 
Following the
sound, he found his men lounging on piles of hay.