Unending Love (3 page)

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Authors: Kathryn Le Veque

BOOK: Unending Love
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He
is my betrothed,” she said, pointing
to Maddoc. “He will beat you within an inch of your life if you do not leave
this moment. Get out, I say!”

Every man in the room looked at Adalind with
some shock, including Maddoc.  But David quickly caught on to her game.

“She is already pledged,” he reiterated. “Go
home. I will not see you again.”

The brothers lost all of their steam.  Jaws hung
open in surprise. Maddoc returned his gaze to the pair and, without so much as
a crack in his façade, resumed stalking.

“I am certain you will not like the pain I shall
put you through if I get my hands on either of you,” he said. “You have been
told to leave. Do it now or suffer the consequences.”

The shorter brother took off at a dead run, hurling
himself from the entry and down the stairs to the bailey. The taller brother,
however, stood his ground even though he was incrementally backing away as
Maddoc advanced.  He eyed the enormous knight who had so effortlessly subdued
him and his brother.

“If you are the lady’s betrothed, then… then I
challenge you.” He pointed an imperious finger at Maddoc. “To the winner go the
spoils.”

Maddoc was within arm’s length of the man and
reached out, snatching his hand and squeezing so hard that bones could be heard
snapping.  As the brother screamed in pain and tried to jerk his hand away,
Maddoc grabbed him by the neck and literally tossed him out of the hall.  The
brother ended up in a heap near the door, scrambling to get away from Maddoc,
who was by now bearing down on him. As Maddoc reached down to pick the man up,
his brother came back through the entry with a broadsword in his hand.

  Maddoc caught the glint of steel in his
peripheral vision.  He heard Adalind shriek.  In that split second, he lifted
the grounded brother and used him as a shield just as the shorter brother
thrust the blade forward.  The sword caught the taller brother in the shoulder
and the man howled in pain, but it was enough of a distraction for Maddoc to
release him and go after the brother with the weapon. 

A massive fist dropped the shorter brother, the
blade, and the taller brother still attached to it. They all went down in a
pile on the entry floor as David rushed forward to pull the broadsword out of
the maelstrom.  He wanted it out of the way, unable to wreak any further
damage, as Maddoc grabbed both brothers and heaved them from the entry. By this
time, several soldiers and at least two knights, who had heard the noise coming
from the keep, were just mounting the stairs.  They were not surprised to see
du Bois standing whole and sound on the entry landing as two hapless victims
rolled down the stairs.

“Remove them,” Maddoc commanded his men. “Escort
them to the river crossing and make sure they are well across it before you
return their weapons to them.  If I see them here again, I will kill them both.
Make it known.”

With that, he turned back for the keep,
gesturing for the startled Adalind to go back inside. She had been standing
behind him with wide eyes, obeying when she saw his directive. David, however,
stood at the top of the stairs, watching his men untangle the wounded brothers
before hauling them away.  His blue eyes were wrought with knowing as he
watched them go.

He knew that wouldn’t be the last time such a
thing would occur with the fair Adalind returned. It was just a feeling he had.

 

 

I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…
In life after life, in age after age, forever.

 

CHAPTER
TWO

 

“Did he even say anything to you, Addie?
Anything at all?”

Seated by the fish pond back near the buttery
where the castle was supplied with fresh fish, Adalind sat with her sister, the
Lady Willow, in the early morning sun.  A new day was dawning, the sky streaked
with the muted colors of sunrise.  The ladies glanced up when a flock of geese
noisily flapped across the sky, soaring off into the deep blue sky.  As the
kitchen yard around them bustled with servants preparing for the morning meal,
the question hung in the air between them.

“Nay,” Adalind replied, trying to sound casual.
“I did not expect him to. Why would he?”

The Lady Willow Lillibet de Lohr de Aston
shrugged her slender shoulders.  She was a beauty, like her sister, a tall and
lanky young woman of sixteen years who had only recently returned from
fostering herself.  Adalind and Willow had not seen each other in five years, a
long separation for sisters who had once been inordinately close. For the past
three days, they had been inseparable as they became reacquainted.

“Because you have grown up,” she said simply.
“You have matured a great deal and you are no longer that silly, gangly child
that used to follow him about. Has he not even noticed you have grown up?”

“It does not matter. I am still the
grand-daughter of his liege. He sees me as a member of the de Lohr family and
nothing more.”

Willow shook her head in disbelief, her pale
hair licking at her cheeks. “I cannot believe the man to be so blind,” she
said, eyeing her sister after a moment. “When you saw him for the first time
yesterday… did you feel the same as you have all of these years?”

Adalind was staring into the pond, watching the
fish mingle amongst the vegetation. “Of course I did,” she murmured. “I have
loved him since I was nine years old. That has not changed.  I thought I could
forget him as I went away to foster, but I did not. He was always lingering in
my mind, like a shadow over my heart that would allow no other man to have it. 
It is both a wondrous blessing and a horrible curse. Why should I love a man so
much who will never return my feelings?”

Willow gazed at her sister, so lovely and sweet. 
Adalind was the oldest of the grandchildren, the leader of the troops, and when
she spoke, they all had listened.  She was intelligent and compassionate, but
somewhere in the years she had spent in Winchester, she had developed something
of a shell.  Willow could see it.  Adalind used to be so open, a bright spirit
that happily embraced the world.  That didn’t seem to be the case any longer.
She was guarded.

“He is a fool,” Willow took her sister’s hand
reassuringly. “Maddoc du Bois is a stupid fool if he cannot see what a
wonderful wife you would be to him.”

Adalind smiled weakly. “I cannot imagine such a
thing,” she said. “I have dreamt of it for so long that it does not seem attainable
to me. I think that it if were to ever happen, I would faint dead away from
surprise.”

Willow giggled, squeezing her sister’s hand.  “Then
let us speak of men who are more attainable,” she said, eyeing her sister’s
lowered head. “Surely there was someone at Court who caught your eye?”

Adalind cocked an eyebrow as she looked at her
sister. “You have been speaking with Mother.”

“I have not. But I
did
hear her speaking
with Grandmother.”

“What did you hear?”

“That you had more suitors than you knew what to
do with and the women at Court were jealous.”

Adalind returned her focus to the fish pond and
the schools of silver-scaled fish. “There was no one special,” she replied. “A
few tried to catch my attention; perhaps a few that even tried too hard.”

“Like the ap Athoe brothers?”

Adalind rolled her eyes. “Idiots, both of them,”
she said, standing up and brushing the dirt off her bum. “Who knew that men
could be so foolish?”

Willow stood up as well, brushing off her
surcoat and then picking a few dead leaves off of Adalind’s hip. “I did not,”
she said. “But I was not so fortunate that men were fighting over me.”

Adalind cast her an expression of displeasure as
she turned for the keep. “I wish they would not. I have no use for them.”

Willow followed. “You will someday. You will
need a husband.”

Adalind gathered up the hem of her surcoat so it
would not drag through the moist ground.  Being that they were in the kitchen
yard, the ground was covered with the leavings of chicken, geese, goats and
other animals, and she didn’t want to soil her coat.

“Perhaps,” she replied vaguely. “But I do not
wish to speak of it.  Let us speak of something else.”

“Why?” Willow pressed. “Addie, what
happened
at Court? I heard Mother tell Grandmother awful things. What did those jealous women
do to you?”

Adalind simply shook her head.  They crossed the
yard and she reached out to unlatch the postern gate that lead into the main
ward, but Willow reached out and stopped her.

“Please tell me,” she begged softly.

Adalind’s green eyes were soft was sadness.
“Why?” she asked. “Willow, I do not wish to speak of it.”

“You are my sister. I can see how you’ve
changed, Addie. You seem so… protected.  You are not the girl I remember.”

“I am most definitely not the girl you
remember.”

“Will you not let me come to know the girl you have
become, then? Please tell me what has changed you so I may understand.”

Adalind gazed at her sister as the soft morning
breeze blew strands of blond hair across her eyes.  It was a cool breeze,
chilling her, and she pushed the hair from her face and looked away.

“People are cruel,” she finally said, softly.
“Suffice it to say that people can be vicious and cruel and hateful. They took
my trust and faith and threw it beneath their shoe, crushing it. If I have
changed, it is because I have learned something of the true world.  It is not a
kind place.”

With that, she moved through the postern gate
and out into the ward, coming alive in the early morning. It was clear that
Adalind was in no frame of mind to speak of her experiences at Court, so Willow
followed Adalind through the gap and took her hand as they passed by the
stables. There would be time later to discover what had sent Adalind home and
Willow knew enough to stop pestering the woman until she was ready.  The time
would come at some point.

 Around them, dogs barked, horses nickered, and
men were bustling about.  Guards upon the walls were changing and young
soldiers gave
the
[J3]
 
women a wide berth as they headed for the keep
entry.  Somewhere in the midst of it, a chorus of shouting began to take up
upon the parapets.  From man to man, the cry traveled and eventually, the heavy
iron portcullis of Canterbury began to lift.   

Adalind and Willow weren’t paying attention to
the creaking of the portcullis as it laboriously climbed its chains.  The
subject had shifted between them and now they were speaking
of
[J4]
 
going into the town to the
Shipshop
import merchant because the man usually had all manner of textiles and other
items for purchase. He was a particular favorite with the de Lohr women and the
girls knew it wouldn’t be a difficult thing to convince their mother, and her
purse, to come along.  As they neared the great retractable steps that led into
the keep, Adalind heard someone call her name.

It was a shout, really, like a desperate plea. 
Mid-way up the steps she came to a halt, turning to see who was calling her
name. Her jaw dropped.

“Oh… Dear Lord,” she muttered. “Please, not him.
Not today.”

Willow was anxiously looking to the portcullis,
the bailey, and trying to find what had her sister so distressed in all of the
bustle.  There was a crowd of people in the ward, so much so that she truly had
no idea what her sister was referring to.

“What is it?” she asked. “What is your trouble?”

Adalind’s gaze lingered on the bailey and
a
[J5]
 
certain point of reference before gathering her
skirts and dashing inside.  Confused, perhaps even bewildered,Willow followed.

 

***

 

“What did you say his name was?” David asked.

Adalind’s expression suggested that she had a
sour stomach. “Eynsford du Lesseps,” she said. “He is the son of Baron
Wallingford of Preston Castle in Oxfordshire. Papa, I want nothing to do with
him. Please send him away.”

David eyed his granddaughter, who looked rather
distressed.  She had come charging in to the great hall of Canterbury not a
minute before, upset about something. Now David was coming to understand what
had her so worked up.
Another suitor.
He snapped his fingers at the
nearest servant and ordered the entry door bolted until he could get to the bottom
of things.  The servant went on the run.

“What about this man, Addie?” he asked. “What do
you know about him?”

She shook her head, frustrated. “He is not
unkind,” she said, “but he is a bore. Papa, he is a horrid bore and he plays a
citole
worse than anyone I have ever heard. All he wants to do is sing sonnets to me.
And his voice; terrible! I will go mad if you allow him to remain here, I
surely will.”

“The man is an entertainer?”

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