Lord of the Blade (33 page)

"They are still waiting in the great hall?"
she gasped.

"You haven't been gone long," he said,
standing as he spoke. "But I expect Lord Corbett would make them
all wait there for a fortnight if it came down to it."

"Oh," Devon moaned and grabbed her stomach.
“Brother Ruford, perhaps you could tell him - ”

"Nay," he frowned. "'Tis not my place to
interfere. Besides, I believe whatever your answer, Lord Corbett
would rather here it from you."

"You are right," Devon softly agreed,
getting out of bed. "I at least owe him that." And as she followed
Ruford across the room, her eyes fell upon the bundle of clothes
she had thrown at the wall.

"Wait," ordered Devon picking up the bundle.
"If I must face the crowds again, 'twill not be dressed in these
rags." She placed the package on the table and untied the laces. "I
will stop those wagging tongues. They will have naught to whisper
about if I wear these."

"Not necessarily," said Ruford as he watched
her open the bundle.

Devon's mouth dropped open as she held out
the clothes Corbett had sent for her to wear.

"I believe Lord Corbett has made a mistake,"
she explained, "for these are the clothes of a noble lady, not the
clothes of a maidservant."

Devon held the purple velvety gown against
her body. Her face blushed with the beauty of it as the thin satin
tippets fell from the sleeves and trailed all the way to the
ground. Next, she held up the sleek undertunic and headdress to
match. Pure white as the new fallen snow. The bodice of the gown
was trimmed in small eyelets of fine lace which made its way to a
row of pearly buttons extending well down the front and matching
those that elaborately lined the sleeves. A pair of elegant small
shoes graced the bottom of the bundle - the fine stitches of
colored roses brightly blazing forth from the white leather
surface. Devon's hands trembled as she slowly replaced the
clothing.

"I cannot wear these," she explained. "Lord
Corbett must have made a mistake."

"'Twas no mistake, my lady," Ruford
answered. "Lord Corbett packed the bundle himself."

"Nay," she muttered, "It can’t be." She
looked up quickly, realizing that Ruford had just addressed her as
my lady
. Her eyes opened wide as she raised her face to meet
Ruford's gaze.

"He knows."

"Aye, my lady."

"And he told you."

"Aye."

"Who else has he told?" The feeling of
foolishness engulfed her. She figured the whole castle was well
aware of her true status while she marched around in rags,
pretending to be a servant.

"Besides myself," answered Ruford, "I
believe he has told no one, except for Baron Kenric, of
course."

"The baron knows also?" She was terrified to
think her own father was in on the plan.

"You should have told Lord Corbett." Ruford
walked over and placed his hand on her shoulder. "He was honest
with you. You should have been also."

"Was he?" She stepped away from Ruford's
touch and stormed across the room. "Was he truly honest? Or did he
only declare his love for me in front of everyone and ask me to
marry him because he knew I was the baron's daughter?"

"You are wrong," Ruford protested. “He truly
loves you, no matter what your title. How could a man who was not
in love decide to risk his position and everything he has worked to
attain his whole life by asking a servant to marry him, and in
front of the whole castle, no less?"

"But he knew I wasn't a servant when he
asked me to marry him," protested Devon. "He knew nothing was truly
at risk."

"Is that so?" asked Ruford softly. "If you
think he didn't take a risk, then you had better think again. For
at this very moment, he stands in front of his people awaiting your
reply. And he has no guarantee of what your answer will be."

Devon looked away. Ruford was right, and now
she felt very foolish by her accusations.

"I will await you in the great hall," Ruford
replied heading for the door. "'Tis up to you now what the next
move will be.”

"Ruford!" she exclaimed. "How did he find
out? How did he know I was the baron's heir?"

"Of that I am not sure, my lady. When I left him
last night, 'twas already very late. He told me he had suspected
but had no proof. Hurry, m'lady. Lord Corbett awaits."

Quite some time had passed and the crowds
grew weary waiting for Devon. Corbett had ordered that ale be
brought to all, and it was probably the saving grace as it seemed
to relax everyone who patiently waited. He, himself, paced the
floor in front of the dais uneasily. Kenric and Cedric sat at the
head table laughing and toasting to one thing or another.

"Ruford." Corbett's command was abrupt as
the monk scurried to his side.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Are you sure Devon is all right? After all,
it has been some time. Mayhap you should check on her again."

"She was fine when I left her," explained
Ruford. "However, if 'twill make you happy, I will go to the solar
once again."

"No need." Corbett grabbed the monk's arm.
"I believe I see her approaching."

A sudden hush blanketed the crowd as Devon
appeared at the door and made her way silently through the great
hall. Her braided hair coiled around her ears and was encased in
netting, which connected to a small white cap upon her head. The
long purple train of her velvet gown dragged behind her as she
elegantly glided toward the dais.

Ruford slowly moved away from Corbett as she
approached. Corbett stood motionless, his eyes feasting upon the
most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Slowly, he forced his legs
to move, and taking Devon's hands in his, he looked deeply into her
eyes.

"You are beautiful," he said softly. “Now
tell me, have you made your decision?"

"I have," she declared, her voice steady as
a rock.

The crowd moved in closer to hear her words.
The baron and Cedric walked down to stand at Corbett's side. The
crowd whispered confused words amongst themselves as to the meaning
behind her grand attire.

"Well, what is it my dear?" The baron
finally asked after a long pause. "Did you decide to accept Lord
Corbett's proposal of marriage?"

"I cannot," she stated, and Corbett let
loose of her hands, despair creeping across his face.

Surprised mumbles drifted across the
hall.

"What?" asked Corbett softly.

“I cannot marry you, my lord, without first
confessing that I have not been entirely honest with you."

Sighs went up from the crowd.

"'Tis only fair that I open my heart with
honesty the way you have shown to me before your people. I love
you, Lord Corbett. I have loved you since the day you brought me to
the castle and made me your servant. And I feel I am the luckiest
woman in the world, for I would have never imagined my life as a
servant would turn out to be my dreams come true." She looked
toward Kenric as she explained further.

"When I first began my quest to find my true
identity, I never would have believed that I would end up being the
baron's daughter."

Voices rose from the crowd and Devon caught
Heartha's surprised expression as she clung to Leahla.

"Tho I discovered I carry the mark of the
dagger, I still wasn’t convinced. That is, until I overheard some
horrific confessions between the baroness and her guard, Thorpe.
She explained all she’d heard.

"God's breath," remarked Cedric. "That is
why she seemed so familiar. I had once known her pleasures, though
'twas many years ago."

Reluctantly, Devon next told Malcomn’s
story. It sent such a frenzy of emotions through the crowd, that
once again, Corbett had to raise his voice to demand order.

"Quiet, I say," Corbett commanded the crowd.
"For if you cannot remain still, I will have you all
dismissed."

"Devon.” Anxiety showed on Corbett’s face.
"I have to know what you've decided. Will you marry me, and become
my wife?"

“I accept!" she answered. "There is nowhere
else I would rather be than at your side. Not as your servant, but
as your wife."

A cheer went up from the crowd and Corbett
proudly kissed her in front of everyone. But now she had a question
for her new husband-to-be.

"If Malcomn did not tell you of my true
identity, than how did you know?"

Corbett motioned for someone to come
forward.

"I had my suspicions when I saw your
amulet," he admitted. "But I wasn't really sure until I heard
someone else's words to confirm my own thoughts."

Mercia walked over to join them.

"Mercia?" Devon looked at the woman, and
then back at Corbett. “I don’t understand.”

"'Tis true, my lady," answered Mercia, now
not seeming quite so shy. "I was the young linen girl who took you
to safety. I acted on Orrick’s command. It was your mother's wish
that you be brought to Orrick as soon as you were born. She must
have known he would see to your safety."

"But if you knew, why didn't you say
something?"

"Orrick told me to keep quiet if I valued my
life. And in fear, I ran from the castle and took to the road until
one day I decided to return. I had no idea what Orrick had done
with the baby. But last night, I discovered from Heartha that
Orrick had brought her a baby girl wrapped in swaddling eight and
ten years ago."

"My poor dear," Devon grabbed Mercia's hand.
"No wonder you seemed full of fear whenever the baroness entered
the room."

"I wanted to say something, my lady," she
cried, "honest I did! Only, I was too frightened to speak. Only
upon the baroness’s death did I gain the courage.”

“Mercia, I don’t know how to thank you. If
it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here today.” The women hugged in a
newfound closeness.

"A toast!" cried Delwynn, pushing forward to
the front of the crowd. "To Lord Corbett and Lady Devon.”

"And to my daughter." Kenric stepped in.
"She has filled a void in my life that no other could."

"I'll drink to that," shouted Corbett.

"You will be married tomorrow," announced
the baron to the happy couple.

"Tomorrow?" asked Corbett. "But what of the
betrothal and wedding bans that are required to take place? Surely,
this alone will take some time?"

"I’ve anticipated this outcome, and already
have the king’s permission. Lord Corbett, you shall remain Lord of
Steepleton, and Lady Devon shall be your wife.”

Chapter 27

The wedding was conducted by Father Chapman
in the grand cathedral of Saint Basil's. It was a huge gathering,
as lords, ladies, knights and soldiers graced one side of the
church. The monks smiled proudly from the other side, as the
servants of the castle sat among them at Devon's request. The
villeins of the lord's demesne graced the back of the church, and
even entertainers, beggars, and passing pilgrims were invited to
join this special occasion.

Kenric had given his daughter to Corbett, as
father of the bride, and Heartha filled the place of her mother.
Leahla and Mercia stood at Devon's side, as Delwynn and Storm stood
by Corbett. Ruford happily assisted in helping Father Chapman with
the service. As the wedding was completed, people filed toward the
great hall where the meal was to presently take place.

Corbett carried Devon into the solar, and
gently sat her atop the bed. He leaned over and kissed her, his
long hair brushing against her shoulders. She had chosen to be
married in the purple gown, and she’d even convinced Corbett to
wear a purple surcoat to match.

“Wife,” he said, leaning over her. A thrill
of elation coursed through her at the sound of the word. She was
Lady Steepleton now. And the handsome dark lord her husband. She’d
not only found her identity, but found a love with a man that would
last for all eternity.

“Husband,” she tested the title on her
tongue.

“I have a wedding present to give you.” He
leaned over her, and she ran her hands up his arms, feeling the
masculine strength and power he possessed. She slipped her fingers
over his hard thighs and up under his tunic.

“I can’t wait,” she said in a sultry
whisper.

“Unfortunately, you must wait for that,” he
said, removing her hands from his legs. “We have guests waiting for
us in the great hall, and Malcomn would say farewell to you before
he leaves for Cornwall with his father. But there is another gift
I’d like to give you in the meantime.”

Corbett walked over to the door and opened
it. There was an exchange of voices, then Corbett returned with
something hidden under his tunic.

“What do you have?” Devon reached out
playfully, but Corbett took her hand in his.

“Close your eyes, wife.” She did, and
Corbett placed her fingers atop something furry and soft.

“A puppy!” she cried, opening her eyes and
taking the hound from Corbett. A small, furry puppy opened one
sleepy eye as she placed it on her lap. “I love him.”

“He’s the first born from Sefton’s
bitch.”

“Thank you, Corbett. You have made me very
happy.” She kissed him and he held out his closed fist to her.
“Something else?” she asked. He opened it to reveal her amulet.

“You had it?” she said. “I thought the raven
stole it again.” Just then the raven flew in the window and landed
on Corbett’s shoulder.

“I think it’s time, old friend,” Corbett
told the bird, and picked up a sword from the table that Devon
recognized as her fathers, with the empty space in the pommel.

“I need to place your amulet into the sword.
I need to release a friend who has been trapped for a very long
time.” He placed the amulet in the pommel, and his raven hopped off
his shoulder, landing on the bed. It squawked and cried horribly,
falling onto its side and rolling over off the side of the bed.

“What’s happening?” asked Devon, jumping to
her feet with the puppy in her hands. She took a step toward the
raven, but Corbett stopped her.