Heather Graham (16 page)

More of Gariston’s men-at-arms were summoned to the task of moving her, which took all afternoon. At the end of their efforts, they were all drenched with sweat, but the mare had been returned to the stables where she was supported in rigging created out of oak building stakes and one of Sir Thackery’s old battle tents. Danielle had listened to his every word when he had told her how to mix a poultice for the wound, and she followed his instructions to the letter.

“Three to four times a day, milady, you must tend to this!” he warned her. “Forget but once and the wound may fester, do you understand?”

Wide-eyed and pale, she nodded.

By then it was late—he was weary and covered in mud and hay. And he was still intending to ride out in the morning. He left her in the stables, asked Sir Thackery to see that he was brought a bath and hot water, and drank a large goblet of good English ale as he waited for the servants to fulfill his request.

“This is quite incredible, Laird MacLachlan,” Sir Thackery said, shaking his head. “The poor girl has seen so much death, yet we will all see more of it, I fear. I pray that at least her mare can live, but sweet Jesu, sir! I have not seen such a thing before!”

Adrien lifted a hand. “The mare has a chance. And I have never seen Danielle quite so … eager.”

“Ah, well, she loves the creature!” Sir Thackery told him. “The mare was a gift to her from the king of France.”

Adrien’s ale soured a bit on his tongue. He stood, setting his chalice down, and reminded himself sternly that he was going for Joanna in the morning and was not going to be responsible for Danielle much longer.

“I am returning to Winchester on personal business, leaving with the dawn, Sir Thackery, but I will return as soon as I am able.”

“I will guard the lady in your absence, milord!”

“Ah, my thanks! And Sir Thackery, will you please be so good as to ready a guest chamber for the Lady Joanna? She will be returning with me.”

“The Lady Joanna!” Sir Thackery seemed surprised.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No. Of course not, milord. It’s just that …”

“What?”

Sir Thackery cleared his throat. “Well, the king sent messengers ahead of the countess and yourself, milord. Private word for my eyes alone, of course, but the king wrote that—”

“Wrote that what?”

Sir Thackery seemed truly uneasy now. “The king’s message suggested that you and the countess would become betrothed before you left here on the king’s business once again.”

Adrien was silent for a moment. “Even kings may be wrong upon occasion,” he said firmly.

“I was to show you the wonders of the place, milord. If I have failed—”

“You have failed at nothing!” came a cry from the doorway. Both men turned, startled. Danielle stood there, very tall and straight. She entered the room, looking from Adrien to Sir Thackery. “Sir Thackery, you mustn’t press Laird MacLachlan, for he has made other plans for his life. Pray, sir, isn’t that so?”

“But the king’s command—” Sir Thackery stuttered.

“I try to obey the king in all things,” Adrien said evenly, “but as the countess is so quick to assure you, I have made other plans. I bid you both good night.”

He bowed deeply to them and hurried upstairs. The servants had left him a hip tub deep with steaming water. He eased himself into it. Water and steam rushed around him and he gave himself over to the pleasure of it, closing his eyes.

A moment later, his eyes popped open. He wasn’t alone. He tensed, staring at the doorway. Danielle had followed him.

“What?” he moaned, reaching for his towel and soaking it as he dragged it atop himself in the tub. He closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead, for he had acquired a splitting headache all of a sudden. All he needed was Danielle at his bath. Alarmingly, he could feel his body responding to her feminine presence.

“I came to thank you,” she said quietly.

His eyes opened with surprise, and he leaned back again, carefully covered and watching her. “Aye?”

“For my horse.”

He lifted a hand in the air. “We have seen a lot of sorry sights. If the mare can live, I will be glad of it. I cannot, however, promise that she will.”

“But she has a chance.”

“Aye.”

She moistened her lips. “I am grateful, and in your debt.”

“If you are in my debt, then consider obeying me upon occasion,” he said, but tonight, there was little bite to his words. His countess had her own sense of honor, he thought. He liked that about her, and he felt some of his anger abating. “Take good care of her,” he said.

“You are still going for Joanna in the morning?”

“Aye.”

She smiled, the beautiful smile he had only seen her give others before. “God speed you then, Adrien. I will be anxious to see your lady.”

He nodded and admitted, “She is quite fond of you.”

She stood a bit awkwardly for a moment, then said, “Good night, good journey, Adrien, and thank you again.”

“Good night, Danielle,” he told her.

She turned and left him. A moment later, he smiled. He was actually acquiring a fondness for the little temptress.

Maybe there could be peace between them after all.

But later that night, he tossed in the grip of a deadly nightmare. He knew that he dreamed, but could not awaken. He was caught in a tumultuous battle. Trumpets sounded, steel clashed, horses screamed, and men cried out in anguish. And there she was. In the midst of it. Walking barefoot through the battlefield, her ebony hair streaming down her back, caught in the winds of war. The battlefield, he knew somehow, was in France. And she walked determinedly through a field of blood, avoiding the flashes of steel that came her way.

He awoke with a start, soaked in sweat, swearing at himself that he could become so seized by a nightmare. He rose, paced the floor, drank deeply from a bottle of wine, and lay back down. But he could not sleep. He lay awake until the first cock crowed.

He wondered what had disturbed him so that he should have such a violent dream. Then he realized that he was worried. The horse he sought to save, the mare she loved so very much, had been a gift—not just from a Frenchman, but from the French
king.

I
N ALL HONESTY, DANIELLE
admitted to herself, living in Gariston was pleasant. Sir Thackery was wonderfully old and wrinkled and kind, and anxious that she should be pleased with everything. Monteine and Lady Jeanette were pleased with the fortress, as was Dr. Coutin, who tended to think most places not in France to be entirely barbaric. Though his chief concern was his countess, he was quickly seeing to the aches and ailments and injuries of all the people.

Adrien had not been gone two days when Danielle came to the stable to see Star and discovered Monteine there, shaking her head with amazement at the mare’s journey to recovery. “Milord MacLachlan is really quite amazing,” she murmured. “You should make peace with him.”

Danielle shrugged. He’d saved her horse; she was grateful.

“He is a powerful knight, milady, and he will hurt you if you cross him. He’s very strong, a valued warrior—favored by the king.”

“Monteine,” Danielle said wryly, stroking Star’s nose, “you are the one who has always reminded me that the English—such as Adrien!—are the enemy.”

Monteine nodded. “Aye, but—”

“You don’t know the half of what he has done!” Danielle said softly, remembering the anguish and humiliation of being dragged over his knee. “I am grateful for what he has done for Star, but I’m afraid he remains the enemy.” She felt a twinge of guilt. Except for his fury against her, he could be decent and intriguing at times. But she couldn’t forgive him because she couldn’t allow herself to forget her mother’s death. Lenore had been everything to her, and Lenore had made her vow to remember Philip. “I must always fight him,” she added softly.

“Listen to me, Danielle, please,” Monteine begged. “Once, you know, you used to listen to the things I taught you.”

“Monteine—”

“The entire court is speaking of a marriage between you.”

“There will be no marriage.”

“Danielle, it would not be the worst thing in the world. He is young and vital, and very handsome.”

Danielle smiled, setting her hands on her hips as she stared at Monteine.

“There will be no marriage—he has assured me so.”

“Then you are both fools!” Monteine said wearily.

“I must one day return to Aville, and then, if I choose, I will marry a French noble.”

“Danielle, you are a ward of the English king! Kings will have their way. You must take care, and be more courteous to Laird MacLachlan.”

“I should take care?” she demanded, her temper suddenly flaring. “He blamed me for his own carelessness in that wretched saddle episode!”

“Danielle, it was not carelessness when he was nearly killed because of the loosened girth on his saddle.”

“I’m telling you,” Danielle began angrily, “I did not do anything—”

“But I did,” Monteine interrupted quickly, her cheeks flushed. “I undid his girth. I was anxious to hurt an English knight, any English knight.”

Danielle stared at Monteine, dumbfounded. She bit her lip, realizing that Adrien hadn’t been at all foolish. He had known that his girth had been tampered with, and, of course, he would blame her …

“Monteine—”

“I’m so sorry. You must tell him, of course,” Monteine said, swallowing hard. “Oh, Danni, I’m sorry, I do love you, you know! I don’t want you blamed, I—”

“Monteine! You have every good reason to want to hurt an Englishman! The English destroyed your family, they left you with nothing, anyone can understand that!” Danielle said, adding slowly, “What I can’t understand is … why have your feelings changed? Why this confession?”

“He is not the Englishman to hurt,” Monteine said gravely. “I have watched him closely since we began the journey here. He has power and sway with the king, gained through both his strength and his wisdom. He is chivalrous—”

“Hmmph!” Danielle protested, barely looking up from the dressing she was changing on Star’s limb. Chivalrous, indeed! Dragging her over his knee! But no one knew about that, because it was too humiliating a tale to tell. Still, she was about to tell Monteine that Laird MacLachlan was capable of being extremely rude, when she was suddenly hailed by a masculine voice. “Milady!”

She and Monteine turned to see that Daylin had entered the stables. “The Lady Joanna has arrived with a small escort!”

Danielle patted the clean dressing on her mare’s injured leg and stood, looking over Star’s haunches at Daylin, a puzzled frown knitting her brow. “But Adrien just went for her—”

“Joanna came by way of the old Roman road, as we did. Adrien rode alone, and cut through the forests. They missed one another, I am afraid. But Lady Joanna is here, and Sir Thackery has brought her into the hall. She is anxious to see you. “

Danielle hurried from the stables to the hall where Joanna sat by the fire with Sir Thackery. Joanna rose, smiled, and reached out to Danielle who hurried to her, accepting her hug, then pulled away. Joanna seemed very warm.

“Are you well, milady?” Danielle asked anxiously.

Joanna shrugged. “A sore throat. And I am tired, I think. The queen has so very many children! Assisting her to pack for them all from place to place is often difficult! But I’m here, now, and tell me truthfully, Danielle, is it all right? Do you mind that I am here?”

“I am delighted that you are here!”

Sir Thackery cleared his throat. “I will leave you ladies to your court gossip and be about my business!” he said, bowing as he left them.

“What a dear, sweet, old creature,” Joanna said.

“I am quite fond of him already,” Danielle agreed. “But I am so glad to see
you!
”

“Well, I tried very hard not to leave you alone with that ill-tempered knight of mine!” Joanna told her.

“He is nearly human when you are about!” Danielle admitted, wrinkling her nose.

Joanna grew somber. “The king wants a match between you and Adrien. I wouldn’t hurt you, Danielle. You don’t mind that Adrien and I are so determined that we will wed?”

“Oh, good Lord! No! I shall be the first to cheer when you exchange your vows. Your beloved is the thorn of my life!”

“Ah, Danni, he is not so bad!”

“You love him—therefore, you are blind!” she said, yet did so lightly. He had saved her horse. “And, of course,” she added, “he loves you.”

Joanna didn’t answer that.

“Joanna, he did bring about the fall of Aville, so it’s difficult for me to see him kindly. He can be a dragon, not that I want a monster for you—rather you than me!”

Joanna laughed. “Not such a dragon! Ah, Danni, if you could but understand what it feels like when he looks at me sometimes, when he touches me … sorry, never mind, I am wandering. I wish he were here! I’m longing to see him. But anyway … Danielle! You look happy here. Gariston agrees with you.”

“I do like it here. It’s almost as nice as—”

“Aville?”

“Aville is my home.

“This is your home as well.”

“Indeed, my father’s home. I heard such wonderful tales about him! Gariston is as warm and good as I always heard my father was. You will love it here as well, I’m certain.”

“Oh, surely I will. I am only sorry that Adrien and I missed one another, and that he is out there riding into danger for nothing. Danni, everyone is fleeing the cities! Death is everywhere.”

“I know!” Danielle said, remembering the friars with their wagonloads of dead, and the poor wretched hermit. “But we’ve no sickness at Gariston.”

“Not here,” Joanna agreed. “Danni, could you show me to my quarters? The days have been hectic. I am very tired, and if you’ll excuse, I could sleep until supper.”

“Of course!” Danielle called out for one of the servants. Amy, one of the kitchen maids, appeared. “Is the other tower readied?”

“Aye, milady. I will summon a maid to escort the Lady Joanna—”

“Nay, Amy, I will see to her myself.”

She started to walk Joanna across the hall, but even as they walked, Joanna suddenly sagged against her. “Oh, Danni! I am even more weary than I thought! I can scarce stand!”