Unending Love (20 page)

Brighton wasn’t oblivious to the fact that
Maddoc was quite literally staring him down.  More than that, he could feel the
protectiveness and animosity radiating off the man every time he focused his
attention on Adalind. He got the hint. So he did what any mannered knight would
do; he deferred to the man who appeared to have the claim on the lady.

“If Sir Maddoc will be gracious enough to allow
me to visit, then I will tell you all I can,” he replied, “but you have seen my
sister more recently than I.  The last I saw of her was several months ago.”

“Still, I would like to hear any news you may
have heard.” She turned to Maddoc hopefully.  “Is it acceptable for Brighton to
join us?”

Maddoc’s gaze lingered on Brighton one last
time, attempting to determine if the man had an ulterior motive for wanting to
be near Adalind other than to discuss his sister.  Given the record of the past
several strangers that had been in Adalind’s orbit, he was naturally suspicious
and protective. But he graciously acquiesced to her request because it seemed
to mean so much to her.

“If you wish it,” he said, taking her hand. “We
will see him tonight at the feast. For now, however, we must see how your
grandfather is faring.”

Adalind clutched him as he began to walk away. 
She waved at Brighton when she managed to free a hand from Maddoc’s iron grasp.

“We will speak tonight,” she said.  “Until
then!”

Brighton smiled weakly, lifting a hand as he
watched them go.  Mostly, he was looking at Adalind and her striking hourglass
figure in her red surcoat.  It was true that he had known her the past several
years, watching her grow from a young girl into a young woman alongside his
sister, and it was further true that he always thought she was quite lovely but
far too young.  At twenty years and eight, he had thought he was simply too old
and prestigious for her. But now, he didn’t think that any longer.  He was
coming to think he’d been an idiot.  In fact, he knew it.

Maddoc du Bois notwithstanding, Brighton
couldn’t help his thoughts from lingering on beautiful and sweet Adalind de
Aston.

The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours –
And the songs of every poet past and forever.

CHAPTER
TWELVE

David had not fared well after the mêlée.  A
blow to the head, followed by one to his back, had injured him fairly
seriously.  The attending physic thought he might have blood on his brain
because his left ear was discharging some bloody fluid and his back was so painful
that he couldn’t stand or walk.  More than just the usual bruises that came
with such events, the Earl of Canterbury seemed to have suffered real damage.

His condition dampened the mood for the entire
party from Canterbury.  The celebration at Shadoxhurst was no longer fun but
serious.   Emilie and Christina stayed with David, tending him, while Maddoc
conferred with the earl on what the man wanted to do next.   It would do no
good for him to remain, ill and injured, in a tent.  They needed to get him
home and Maddoc was trying to convince him of that.  But David didn’t want to
spoil Adalind and Willow’s fun, knowing how much they had looked forward to the
festivities, so it came to the point where Maddoc brought Adalind to his
bedside to speak to her grandfather and convince the old man it was in his best
interest to go home.

It was slow going with the stubborn man. After
much pleading on Adalind’s part, David’s best response was that he would think
about returning home on the morrow.  As dusk fell over the cool and shadowed
land, David grew too exhausted to speak any longer and Maddoc pulled Adalind
from the tent.  She was distraught and worried over her grandfather, and Maddoc
sought to provide her with some comfort.  He felt rather bad for the way the
day had ended.

A large fire was burning in the center of the
Canterbury encampment, spitting sparks into the evening sky.  Soldiers moved
about as the enormous hindquarter of a cow, provided by their host, roast on an
open spit.  The smell of smoke and cooking beef was heavy in the air as Maddoc
procured a cup of wine for Adalind.  He set her down by the fire on a small
leather and wood chair, collapsible, as she sipped on her drink.  The mood was
very somber.

“He is going to be all right, isn’t he?” she
gazed up at Maddoc with her bottomless green eyes.  “The physic can heal him,
can he not?”

Maddoc folded his enormous arms across his
chest.  “He shall recover,” he assured her. “Your grandfather just needs time
to heal, which is why we must take him home.”

Adalind nodded in agreement, sipping at her wine
as the physic, a small man with bushy white hair and a red beard that trailed
to his waist, emerged from David’s tent.  He fumbled with his bag as he glanced
up at Maddoc and Adalind.

“I have left instructions that he not sleep,” he
told them. “With a head injury, there is always the chance that he will not
wake up again.  He is to stay awake for the next several hours at least.  His
wife and daughter said they will see to it so there is nothing more I can do
for now.  I will be back in the morning but send for me if you need me.”

Maddoc nodded his head as he reached into his
tunic and pulled forth a few coins for the man.  Paying the physic, he watched
the little man fade away into the growing darkness.  Then he returned his
attention to Adalind.

“Since we will be here until at least tomorrow
morning,” he said, “perhaps you will allow me to escort you to the festivities
in the great hall.  The party should go on all night.”

Adalind had been staring
into
[J36]
 
the fire, her mind in the tent with her
grandfather. Her gaze was distant, her expression pensive. When Maddoc spoke,
she looked up at him.

“I am not sure,” she said hesitantly. “It does
not seem appropriate to celebrate while Papa is lying injured.”

Maddoc cocked his head. “He would be the first
person to demand you attend,” he said. “Go and prepare yourself and I will
escort you to the hall. Willow, too.”

Adalind thought of her sister in their tent,
upset with the turn of events and particularly upset over her exchange with
Victoria after the woman’s attack on Adalind.  She sighed reluctantly.

“I am not sure she will want to attend,” she
said. “She and Victoria had an awful fight.”

Maddoc had suspected as much, having seen the
two argue earlier. “About you?”

Adalind nodded and hung her head. “Willow
slapped her,” she said, peering up at him. “Did you hear about that?”

Maddoc struggled not to grin. “I did not. It
seems as if I missed a great deal while I was occupied in the mêlée today.”

Adalind tried not to look too embarrassed or
contrite. “In fairness to Willow, Victoria slapped her first when Willow called
her a stupid fat cow. I suppose that provoked her.”

Maddoc put a hand over his mouth so she wouldn’t
see his lips twitching. “I would imagine so.”

“Victoria slapped her first and I suppose Willow
did not slap her as much as she punched her.”

“
Punched
her?”

“In the face. She said Victoria’s nose was
bleeding.”

Maddoc couldn’t help the chuckles as he shook
his head. “Great Gods,” he hissed. “No wonder she is hiding in the tent. I
wondered why she was in there and not begging to attend the party.”

“Now you know.”

Maddoc couldn’t help the grin as he thought of
Victoria slapping Willow in a huff and Willow, who was a fairly tall and rather
solid girl, punching her in return.  He would have liked to have seen it. 
Better entertainment than the mêlée as far as he was concerned. But he pushed
past all of that, focusing on the enticement of escorting Adalind to a
celebration where he could spend time enjoying her and perhaps even dancing
with her.  He hadn’t danced in years but he was willing to do it, just for the night. 
The allure of holding her in his arms was almost more than he could bear.  He
reached down and pulled
the
[J37]
 
half-empty cup of wine out of her hand.

“Go now,” he said, gently grasping her arm and
pulling her to stand. “Go and prepare for the celebration and tell your ruffian
sister to do the same.  I will escort you both.”

Adalind was still uncertain. “But what if she does
not want to go?”

“Then tell her I will carry her into the hall if
I have to.”

Adalind knew he would, too.  As she thought on
attending the celebration on Maddoc’s arm, a smile played on her lips.  It
brought back so many memories of events past where she could only watch him
from afar. Tonight, she would not have to watch him. She would be
with
him.

“I can remember many celebrations or events in
days gone by when you would escort my family,” she said. “I can remember
specifically a celebration at Rochester Castle. It was for a Christmas feast, I
believe, and I must have been nine or ten years of age. Do you remember that
trip? It was snowing and very cold, but once we reached Rochester, the feast
went on for three days.  It was the last time I saw my father healthy, I
think.”

Maddoc nodded as he recollected the event,
thinking on quiet and scholarly Merric de Aston.  He’d not thought of the man
in years.  Tall, blond, rather slender but physically strong, Merric had never
enjoyed the best of health.  He always had something wrong with him. The trip
to Rochester in the snow had caused the man to develop a lung infection from
which he had never recovered.  

“I recall,” he said softly. “He passed away in
the summer following that trip.”

Adalind thought on her father, a man she had
loved a great deal, but the memories didn’t bring tears like they used to.  Now
she remembered him warmly, with bittersweet tidings.  She smiled as she
recollected the trip to Rochester.

“I remember watching him dance with my mother
and thinking that I had never seen him dance before,” she said. “I remember
watching you dance, too, and I was so terribly jealous of the young women in
your arms. I remember them fighting over you.”

He chuckled, embarrassed. “I did not want to
dance at all but your grandfather forced me to. He said I needed to be social.
I hate dancing.”

She grinned. “Will you dance with me tonight,
then?”

“You will have me all to yourself.”

“Promise?” she whispered hopefully.

His mirth faded, his eyes glimmering intensely
at her. “I do,” he said softly. “You will have me all to yourself forever.”

“Are you still sure you want to marry me?”

“More than ever.”

“Tell me again.”

His smile returned and he went to her, wrapping
his arms around her even though David had warned him about such displays. He
couldn’t help it.

“I wish to marry you,” he murmured, kissing her
tenderly on the forehead and feeling her tremble. “I was a fool to have
resisted you for so long. How much longer must I continue to tell you the same
thing over and over?”

“Until I no longer believe I am dreaming.”

“Do you still?”

She nodded, looking up at him with adulation in
her eyes.  She was wrapped up in his arms, her heart beating a mile a minute,
thumping against her ribs.  She finally let out a ragged sigh, dragging her
index finger across his bottom lip.

“I am still having difficulty believing that my
hopes and wishes have finally come true,” she murmured, watching him kiss her
finger. “I swear I will be a good wife to you, Maddoc. I promise I will be
gracious and kind and obedient, and I will love you the rest of my life as no
woman has ever loved a man. I belong to you now as I have always belonged to
you and I will worship you the only way I know how – with unbridled passion and
enthusiasm and hope.  I hope for so much for us, my handsome lad. So very
much.”

He was warmed by her words, feeling her
sincerity as if she had seared it into his heart.   He pulled her tighter.

“I had no idea how fortunate I was until this
very moment,” he whispered. “To have your love, Addie, fills me like nothing I
have ever known. I had no idea what I was missing until you came back into my
life and now that you are here, I want to live in this moment with you
forever.  I am not a man of great words but I can tell you what is in my heart,
and my heart tells me that I am truly blessed. Thank you for being patient all
of these years and for never giving up hope in a future for us.   Your strength
of faith is the most powerful thing I have ever witnessed.”

Deeply touched, Adalind laid her head against
his chest, hearing his heart beating strong and steady in her ear.  The feel of
him, the warmth of him, was heavenly.

“You know you have my heart, Maddoc,” she said
softly. “Perhaps someday I shall have yours.”

He chuckled softly. “What makes you think that
you do not already?” he said, hugging her tightly. “As I said, words do not
come easy for me and emotions are even more difficult.  But know… know that my
heart belongs to you. Can you not feel it?”