CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“My lord, I fear there is a young lad trying to gain your attention.”
Stewart’s softly-uttered words had Scott fighting off a grin.
“How do you know?” he asked.
Stewart turned to glance over his shoulder. “He is looking at you most longingly.”
That statement caused Scott’s grin to break through. Riding at the head of the column beneath a bright spring sun, he finally turned around to see that Stephen, back in the wagon, was, indeed, looking at him with a pleading expression. The moment he saw that Scott was looking at him, he beamed that big smile that showed nearly every tooth in his head. The lad was sitting next to the wagon driver very politely, but it was clear he didn’t want to be there.
He wanted to be riding with the knights.
Scott faced forward. “He cannot ride with us,” he said flatly. “We are in armor and he is not. If we are attacked in any way, I’ll not have that child injured. He is going to have to be content with the wagon.”
Stewart turned to look over his shoulder at the boy again before returning his focus to Scott. “He is weeping now,” he said. “I fear you are going to have to tell him why he cannot ride with you. He does not understand.”
Scott groaned, his gaze moving over the landscape as they drew near to the large city of Kendal. “I cannot look at him.”
“Why not?”
Scott was forced to make an admission. “Long ago, there were two boys, named Will and Tommy, who would do anything to ride with the knights when we were on excursion,” he said, allowing memories of his older boys to come forth. It was something that seemed to get easier the more he did it. “I could not deny them; I never could. Tommy could almost always talk my father into it whereas Will would not waste time with talk. He once managed to steal old Ranulf Kluge’s horse and insert himself in a column of knights leaving for a border skirmish from Castle Questing. It was before you came into de Wolfe service because Will could not have been more than five at the time, but he somehow stole the horse from one of my father’s old knights and tried to ride to battle.”
Stewart fought off a grin. “Did you beat him or reward him for his ingenuity?”
Scott snorted. “I had to protect him from his mother, who did not think her son so clever to have done that.”
Stewart turned to look at young Stephen, who was rubbing his teary eyes. “There is a young lad among us who wishes to steal my horse and ride with you,” he said quietly. “I will have to stay away from him lest he accomplish his task and you congratulate him for it.”
Scott had to grin at the comment. Truth be told, this was one of the more relaxed moments he’d experienced with Stewart in the past four years. Usually, there was no talking between them whatsoever. Strict protocol was observed. But since their conversation yesterday when Scott had let his guard down, there was something more in the air now, something relaxed and almost pleasant. He’d forgotten that such moments with his men existed.
Still, Scott resisted the urge to give in to Stephen, maintaining a certain protocol of readiness as the escort made its way south. Even though he felt lighter of heart, of mood, than he had in a very long time, there was still a certain decorum to follow. He wouldn’t try to explain it to the child because he knew the boy wouldn’t understand, so he went about ignoring him as they headed into the outskirts of the berg. He was afraid any more glances at that sad little face might make him forget the protocol. Truthfully, there was nothing more he could, or would, do.
With Scott and Stewart at point, forty armed soldiers in the middle, and Jean-Pierre covering the rear, the road began to lead through clusters of small houses of wattle and daub construction, or wooden framed walls filled with clay or mud, or both, or purely constructed by twigs or branches. They were tiny homes, one room, with thatched or sod roofs, and at this time of day – midday – men were back from the fields. But instead of eating or resting, many of them appeared to be working on their homes.
With as brutal as the winter had been, Scott observed more than one man repairing the walls of his hovel as the wife helped him. Villeins had wagons in from the fields with spring produce in them, or wagons full of rock or sod, and everyone seemed to be working around them. This was a farming community and it was clear there was some struggle going on because of how difficult the season had been.
As the contingent from Canaan traveled down the road, hosts of pale and fearful faces turned to watch. Scott and the other knights ignored the stares for the most part but Stephen, riding on the wagon bench, was as curious of the peasants as they were of him. For a child that didn’t leave the safety of his fortress often, this was a rare experience.
“Mam!” he shouted, suddenly standing up and pointing. “That boy has puppies! I want a puppy!”
Avrielle, sitting in the wagon bed with her daughters on a comfortable seat that Scott had personally fashioned for her, tried to quiet her son.
“Sit down,” she hissed. “Be quiet!”
Stephen sat down but he couldn’t seem to stop pointing. He saw a boy with several small black puppies and he was clearly feeling deprived.
“Will you ask him if I can have a puppy?” he asked his mother. “Mam, please?”
Avrielle reached up and yanked Stephen by the arm, pulling him backwards off the wagon bench and forcing him to sit beside her. They could all hear Stephen’s weeping as his mother softly scolded him. Nay, he could not have a puppy and unless he behaved himself, he would not even get sweets.
Scott, lured by the sounds of a young boy crying, broke from formation and turned his horse around, heading back to the wagon where Stephen was sitting next to his mother, sobbing quietly. His attention moved between Avrielle and her devastated son.
“We have entered the outskirts of Kendal,” he said to Avrielle. “Where is your man who sells flower seeds?”
Avrielle had to rise to her knees to get a look at where they were. The hills were brilliant green and the road they were on was located on a bit of a rise, so she could see a populated valley spread out below. Everything was wet and damp from the rains they’d had but spring flowers were beginning to bloom along the side of the road, giving the area a lush and vibrant feel. In spite of the harshness of the season, the brilliant blooms were nature’s reward. She immediately pointed off to the southeast.
“There will be a road around this bend,” Avrielle said. “There should be a sign that says ‘Mealbank’. That road will take us into a village and right at the edge of the village is the man we wish to see. He will be easy to spot.”
Scott eyed her, a twinkle in his eye. “So you know what the road sign says? Can you read it?”
Avrielle nodded, smiling because there seemed to be some humor in his expression. “I can, indeed,” she said proudly. “Nathaniel taught me when we were first married. I can also do sums in my head. Are you surprised?”
He gave her a half-grin. “Nay, I am not. You are an accomplished woman.”
She laughed softly. “I wanted to learn so that when I conduct business, no man can get the better of me. If he thinks he is dealing with an empty-headed woman, then I am happy to show him otherwise.”
Scott’s expression turned warm. “Of that I have no doubt.”
Avrielle simply grinned, casting him what could have easily been construed as a flirtatious expression before settling back down on the cushioned wagon bed. It was a situation Scott hadn’t faced in many years, at least since he started courting Athena, and he had to admit he was a little out of practice. In fact, he was a little intimidated. The mere thought made him laugh at himself; what a fool he was.
Fool or not, he wanted to respond, but not with all of his men around. That last thing he wanted was for his awkward attempts at charming a woman to be observed by all. But he knew there would be a time and a place where he would have no such restraints and he intended to take advantage of the situation when it came. He would have to be ready and not intimidated like a silly squire.
He would have to learn to talk to a woman again.
With a lingering glance on Avrielle, he started to move away from the wagon but sniffles from Stephen caught his attention. The boy was wiping at his eyes, smearing dirt across his face, and Scott wanted to take pity on the lad. It took him back to the days when Athena, a strict disciplinarian, would deny his boys something they wished to do and he, as their father, would try to soften her up on behalf of his sons. Aye, he remembered those days well if he allowed himself to. He lingered on them, without the sorrow they usually provoked, as he made his way back to the front of the group where Stewart was riding at point. He rode up alongside him.
“The first road to the left coming up is the one we are to take,” Scott told him. “We are looking for a sign that says ‘Mealbank’.”
Stewart strained to catch a glimpse of the road beyond the bend and, perhaps, the very sign they were looking for. “Mealbank. Aye, my lord.”
It was shortly thereafter that they had made the turn on the indicated road and entered what was actually the northern end of the large, and longer, city of Kendal, into a district called Mealbank. It was on a rise above the city, situated among the rolling green hills. Once they made the turn, the road opened up and it was suddenly quite busy ahead of them. Very quickly, they were in the middle of a bustling village.
There were people everywhere, going about their daily business. Dogs barked, horses snorted, and children ran in the streets. Immediately to his left, he could see a property set back from the road with a moss-covered, stone house in the center of it and a good deal of agriculture spread around it. There were all manner of plants and wooden planter boxes, with a big pile of animal dung near the house. It was clear from the sight and the smell that it was some kind of agricultural business and Scott came to the logical conclusion.
“Look,” he said to Stewart. “That must be the place. Settle the men and the wagon here at the end of the road, out of the path of travel. I will fetch Lady du Rennic and take her to purchase her seeds.”
Stewart nodded, turning to motion the men over to the side of the road as Scott turned his horse around and headed back to the wagon. He’d no sooner turned around, however, when he noticed that Avrielle was already out of the wagon and making her way towards the gate that led to the green-stoned house.
In fact, Avrielle wasn’t paying any attention to the knights or the soldiers as they organized themselves off of the road. She had her own agenda to attend to. Making sure that Sophia was secure in the wagon holding her infant sister tightly, she took Stephen by the hand and headed for the house with the enormous dung pile next to it. But she was barely to the gate leading into the fenced yard when Stephen suddenly howled and pulled away from her.
“Mam!” he screamed with delight. “Look! The dogs are dancing!”
With that, he was gone like a flash and Avrielle took off after him, lifting her skirts to her knees so they wouldn’t drag through the mud.
“Stephen!” she cried. “Stephen, stop!”
But young Stephen couldn’t stop. He had his eye on the prize – a man who had at least five dancing white dogs, perhaps more, and a gaggle of children and eager adults gathered around him. The little boy was so excited that he was darting through traffic, around people, and beneath horses that were stopped on the avenue. He did that at least twice and both horses had startled, dancing around excitedly as Avrielle dashed around them. Stephen was just nearing the man with the dogs when a big figure abruptly intercepted him, lifting him off the ground. Stephen screamed as Scott picked him up and prevented him from making contact with the dancing dogs.
“Nay!” the boy cried. “I want to see the dogs! The dogs are dancing!”
Scott was out of breath from his sprint across the road. In fact, he was a little surprised with how fast he’d moved, but panic had caused the speed – all he could see was Stephen plastered against the mud by an angry horse, so he’d moved even faster than Avrielle had in order to catch up with the boy. Now, the kicking, squirming child was in his arms just as Avrielle caught up to them. The first thing she did was pull the boy out of Scott’s arms and whack him twice on the behind with her palm.
“I told you what would happen if you did not behave,” she said, winded and angry and frightened. “Now you must sit in the wagon bed while I conduct business.”
Stephen was sobbing as his mother hauled him away from the dogs. “Nay!” he cried. “I just wanted to see the dogs, Mam! Please let me see the dogs!”
Avrielle’s heart was still pounding from the scare. “If you had not run from me, I would have let you see them,” she said firmly. “Now you must sit in the wagon. Naughty boys are not allowed privileges.”
Stephen wept loudly all the way back to the wagon, being dragged by his mother as Scott followed behind. Truth be told, he was watching Avrielle as she dealt with her disobedient son and he admired her all the more for it. She was firm and she was in control no matter what Stephen did. It reminded him very much of Athena and he found comfort in that. But he was also watching the sway of her hips, inspecting the curvaceous line of her body from behind. She was quite delicious, in his opinion. But he didn’t say a word as she lifted Stephen up to the wagon bed and made him sit beside his sisters. As the miserable little boy sobbed and carried on, she turned to Scott.
“I am sorry he troubled you,” she said. “He will not leave the wagon again, I promise.”
Scott’s gaze lingered on her a moment before moving to Stephen, who had his face in his hands. Beside him, Sophia was looking at her brother with great concern while the baby in her arms slept peacefully.
“He was no trouble,” he said. “But I will admit, I had visions of one of those horses he darted beneath crushing him.”
Avrielle took a deep breath, clearly attempting to calm her anger and her fright. She smiled weakly. “As did I,” she admitted. “Thank you for saving him.”
He cracked a smile. “It was a close call. He is very fast.”
“Thankfully, you were faster.”
“My legs are longer.”
She laughed softly as they both experienced a surge of warmth between them, warmth that was coming more easily by the moment. It was becoming fluid, liquid, rushing between them, through them, and around them, binding them together until they could only see one another.
It was magical.
Here they were, standing in the middle of a busy road, and all Scott could see was that flawless face before him. He found himself wanting to say so much more to her but, thankfully, at the last moment he realized that he couldn’t. This was no place for anything sweet he might wish to express, the feelings of a man who was only just allowing himself to experience emotion again. It was difficult for him to control it. Feeling foolish, he labored to change the subject.
“This is your man?” he asked, pointing to the moss-covered house. “Mayhap you should go and conduct your business before the day grows too late.”
Avrielle hadn’t been oblivious to the warmth between them. It was difficult to look at the man and not feel her cheeks grow warm or her knees grow weak. And that fluid warmth he had experienced was coursing through her veins even now. But she tore her gaze away from him, looking at the house he was indicating.
“I will,” she said, gathering her skirts again to keep them out of the muddy road. “I shan’t be long, I promise.”
“Take your time. I shall wait here. Call if you need me.”
Smiling, she nodded and turned for the house again, picking her way through the muddied road and passing through the gate that led to the yard of the house. Scott simply stood there and watched her, wondering if he had the same silly smile on his face that she had and trying to straighten out his lips just in case. He really couldn’t tell. As he stood there and watched, Stewart came up beside him.
“It is a good thing you were faster than the boy, my lord,” he said. “I have a feeling had you been any slower, it could have been a disaster.”
Scott nodded, pulling his gaze away from Avrielle and turning to the children in the wagon. Stephen was still sniffling. He was still feeling some pity for the small boy who, he was sure, had simply been excited when he ran off more than he’d actually been disobedient. Still, he wouldn’t dream of undermining Avrielle’s parental authority by offering comfort or compromise to the child.
But… perhaps there was another way.
“Had the dogs not been so far away, we would not have had the issue,” he said. “Stu, go to the man with the dogs and see if he will bring them over here. That way, young Stephen can watch them from the safety of the wagon and so can his sister. The children will not have to go anywhere and there will be no risk of someone being run down by a horse.”
Stewart lifted his eyebrows at the surprising request, turning to look at the dog handler across the road. “Do you think Lady du Rennic will approve?” he asked. “After all, I heard her tell the boy that…”
Scott cut him off, quietly. “She told him that he would have to sit in the wagon whilst she conducted business,” he said. “She did not tell him he could not watch the dogs altogether. Go and get the dogs, Stu, or young Stephen may very well cry himself into a fit. That would not do.”
Stewart looked at Scott, seeing something in the man he hadn’t seen in a very long time – compassion. The Scott de Wolfe he’d known since that tragic day had no capacity for compassion or pity but, clearly, the man before him had changed dramatically and Stewart was still trying to take it all in. Truth be told, he liked what he saw.
With a grin playing on his lips, he nodded.
“As you command, my lord,” he said, turning on his heel and waving a hand at Jean-Pierre, who was still towards the rear of the column. “Du Bois! With me!”
As Scott kept an eye on Avrielle, who was now speaking to a very old man and a very old woman who had emerged from the mossy house, Stewart and Jean-Pierre took a stroll down the road to the man with the dancing dogs. Stewart had explained the command to Jean-Pierre, who was without any knowledge of de Wolfe’s changing behavior. He’d only been in service of de Wolfe for a couple of years and the commander he knew wasn’t capable of what Stewart was suggesting. He therefore thought the command to be quite strange but he did as he was told. He accompanied Stewart to the dog handler and, after exchanging several words with the man and passing him a few coins, the man and his dogs seemed more than willing to move locations.
With the crowd of children and adults following behind, the five white dogs and their round handler relocated to a spot that Scott had picked out, right in front of the wagon that held Stephen and his sisters. When Stephen saw the man and his dogs appear, his tears miraculously disappeared and, within minutes, he and Sophia were at the edge of the wagon, watching the dogs dance and cheering with delight. Even the soldiers were interested in the entertainment and soon the man and his dogs had a massive audience, cheering the canine cleverness.
Unfortunately, the noise and movement woke the infant, who began to wail lustily when her sister jostled her. Startled, Sophia looked at the child as if she’d done something wrong and she immediately sat back down and tried to soothe the frightened baby. Sophia was a very quiet, very meek little girl and Scott couldn’t honestly remember hearing one word out of the child’s mouth since he’d been a Canaan. She always seemed to be a silent wraith, shadowing her mother. Even as the baby wailed, Sophia didn’t speak to the infant, she merely rocked the babe gently.
But the baby’s crying brought forth the mother. Even as far away as she was, negotiating for seeds and plants with the plant vendor, Avrielle could hear her child crying. She’d been around the side of the house and hadn’t seen the crowd gathered near the wagon to watch the dog show, so coming to the front of the house and seeing the crowd was something of a surprise. She could hear her child wailing above it all. Leaving the plant vendor, she quickly scurried across the yard and through the gate, pushing through the soldiers in her quest to reach the wagon.
It was then she could see Sophia sitting in the wagon bed, trying to comfort the baby, but right next to her was Stephen hanging over the side of the wagon bed, excitedly watching the dog show. Avrielle was on the verge of becoming quite cross with her son when she noticed Scott standing beside the boy, his big arms folded across his chest as he also watched the show. There was a faint smile on his face, something that grew in waves every time Stephen screamed with delight.
It was entrancing, really. Avrielle couldn’t help but be deeply touched by the knight as he enjoyed the dogs right along with Stephen, who kept tapping Scott on the shoulder and pointing to the big dog that was dancing in circles. It was difficult to become angry at such a thing, seeing the delight in her son’s eyes and knowing that Scott was more than likely responsible for it. Knowing how Stephen had suffered in the wake of his father’s death, and knowing the loneliness he’d suffered… nay, she really couldn’t become too angry at all.
“So the dogs came to you, did they?” she asked her son, watching both Stephen and Scott turn to her. She cocked an eyebrow to express that she, perhaps, wasn’t thrilled that Stephen was being rewarded for running across the road but she didn’t say anything to that regard. She simply took the wailing baby from Sophia. “Go ahead, sweetheart. I am sure you want to watch the dogs, too.”
Grinning, Sophia knelt beside her brother on the side of the wagon, watching the dogs as Avrielle soothed the baby. Avrielle was so focused on the infant that she didn’t notice that Scott had come up beside her.
“Are you angry?” he asked quietly.
She looked up at him. “Why would I be angry?”
Scott cleared his throat, somewhat guiltily, and threw a thumb in the direction of the dogs. “Stephen could not go to the dogs,” he said, “but you did not say that the dogs could not come to him.”
Avrielle had suspected as much. She fought off a grin as she looked back to the baby. “That is true,” she said. “I did not say that. In the future, I can see I will have to be more specific.”
He didn’t say anything and when she looked up, he was grinning at her with a rather mischievous expression. She shook her head at him reproachfully, but there was no weight behind it. She thought it was rather sweet he should be so concerned for her boy.
“While you and my son were watching dogs, I struck a bargain with the plant vendor,” she said. “He has a good deal of seed left as well as plants he has grown for sale. He will start bringing them out to the wagon and I would be grateful if your men could load them.”
Scott nodded. “It shall be done.”
As Scott moved to his men and passed orders along through Stewart and Jean-Pierre, Avrielle had a more pressing concern on her mind. She was increasingly convinced that the baby was crying because she was hungry, so finding a private place to feed the child was imperative. It wasn’t as if she could wander off and not tell anyone, so she had to let Scott in on the situation. She would have to feed the baby before they took the road back to Canaan and she needed his help.
“My lord?” she called out to him politely. “A word, please?”
Scott, who had been speaking with Stewart, left the knight standing there and immediately went to her side. Perhaps too eagerly, but he didn’t notice and neither did Avrielle; they were fixed on each other and that was all that seemed to matter. She smiled at him as he came near.
“I must feed the babe,” she said, lowering her voice. “I can do it while your men load up the wagon bed so I will not delay our return to Canaan any more than necessary, but the problem will be finding a location to do it. A private location, if you will.”
Scott understood what she meant immediately. As the plant vendor and his wife began to lug out the bags of seeds and plants in wooden crates from their inventory, Scott happened to glance at the mossy house behind them. A thought occurred to him.
“Mayhap we should ask your plant vendor,” he said. “Mayhap he will allow you to use his home.”
Avrielle opened her mouth to agree but Scott was already on the move, heading to the old man and his wife as his soldiers swarmed around them, collecting seeds and plants. His men were lugging the items back to the wagon as the dog show continued onward, but Avrielle was watching Scott as he spoke to the old man and old woman, gesturing to Avrielle as he did so. She clearly saw when the old woman nodded and turned for the house, scurrying away. Scott headed back to Avrielle, avoiding the soldiers who were lugging plants around.
“The wife has offered you the use of her home,” he said, taking Avrielle politely by the arm. “Do you want to bring your children with you? Or are you comfortable leaving them here to watch the show?”
Avrielle looked at Stephen and Sophia, enthralled by the dogs that were now jumping over each other. “Unless I want tears and hysteria, I had better leave them here,” she said. “Your men will be mindful of them, won’t they?”
Just to be sure, Scott turned in the direction of Stewart and Jean-Pierre, who were organizing the items that were being loaded into the rear of the wagon. Emitting a sharp whistle between his teeth, Scott pointed to his eye and then to the children when Stewart turned in his direction. Stewart got the general idea that he was to keep an eye on the pair and Scott continued on towards the moss-covered house with Avrielle in his grip.
“Stewart has two young sons,” he said. “He will make sure your children are safe.”
Avrielle turned to watch as Stewart left his post and went to stand by the children, like a big guard dog. She felt comfortable with a man that Scott clearly trusted.
“I have not yet met your knight,” she said. “I have seen him around, of course, but we have never spoken. His name is Stewart?”
Scott nodded. “Stewart Longbow. He is a good and trusted man. I will introduce you to him.”
Avrielle simply nodded, holding the fussing infant as she tried to avoid the mud puddles. “And the other knight with him?”
“Jean-Pierre du Bois.”
“Has he been with you a long time?”
“About two years.”
They approached the entry to the house and Scott went in first, a precautionary measure that was simply a habit, making sure the room was safe before Avrielle followed. The old woman was inside, stoking the fire and waving them in. She pointed to a chair right next to the hearth and Avrielle made her way to it, settling down as the old woman finished stoking the blaze. Then the little woman scurried out of the room and shut the door behind her, leaving Scott and Avrielle alone. Avrielle grinned at Scott as she began to loosen her bodice.
“I am sure this is something that would not interest you so you needn’t stay to keep me company,” she said, watching him wriggle his eyebrows as if to agree. “But you would be doing me a great favor if you could return to the wagon for the satchel I brought with me. It contains more swaddling for the baby and I must change her into clean rags.”
Scott was already at the door. “It would be my pleasure, my lady.”
Leaving Avrielle alone in the plant vendor’s common room to nurse her child, Scott headed out to the wagon that was now half-full with bags of seeds and potted plants. Peering into the wagon bed, he spied the satchel beneath Stephen’s feet and had to lift the boy up so he could get at it. But Stephen’s attention never left the dogs and Scott had to grin at a child who was so singularly focused. Making his way back to the stone hut, he rapped softly on the door before entering so that Avrielle would not be startled.
“I would assume this is what you need,” he said, averting his gaze from her because a quick look when he entered the hut showed that she had the child against her bare breast. “Your son was standing on it so I hope there was nothing to be damaged inside.”
Avrielle had the quieted baby against her breast as the child fed eagerly. “Nay,” she said. “Only swaddling. Thank you for bringing it to me.”
“My pleasure, my lady.”
“And thank you for entertaining my son and daughter with the dogs. I am sure they are so entertained that they do not even realize the plant farmer has not yet given them sweets.”
Scott was facing away from her, putting the satchel on a table and unfastening the ties. “He will realize that as soon as we leave this place,” he said. “I would, therefore, suggest we find sweets before we leave or you will have an unhappy son on your hands.”
Avrielle watched him as he opened up the satchel and began to pull out the swaddling. “You know children well,” she said. “In fact, I have watched you with Stephen. You are very comfortable with him, and he with you. I have thanked you for your kindness towards him but I will do it again. It may not mean much to you, but to Stephen, it means a great deal. And to me.”
Scott slowed as he pulled out the swaddling and set it on the tabletop. “You are quite wrong,” he said quietly. “It does mean a great deal to me. In fact, I was thinking of something last night, something that is difficult for me to express. I was thinking that coming to Canaan has been an important event to me, in many ways.”
Avrielle was interested. “How?”
He sighed faintly as he pondered his answer, remembering his conversation with Stewart the night before. Much had been said during the course of that dialogue, things he wasn’t sure he wanted to tell Avrielle but things he somehow felt compelled to tell her. He felt so comfortable with the woman, a contentment he’d not felt in years. It was difficult not to give in to that sense of well-being.
But as he thought on how to explain himself, he relived the conversation he’d had with the king’s messenger and pondered the things he’d told the man. Nathaniel’s deathbed confession came to mind. He’d not yet had the opportunity to tell Lady du Rennic that her days of fearing a husband from Edward were over. At least, Scott hoped they were over. But for him, the troubles had probably only just begun.
“Coming to Canaan has been important, in a sense, because of the conversations you and I have had about grief,” he said, turning around and looking her in the eye as her bare breast fed the baby. “You know that my struggle with grief and guilt has been a long one but in coming here, in seeing that there was someone else who was going through nearly the same thing I was going through, it has given me the strength to speak on the subject. This is the first time I have been comfortably able to do so. And feel changed. I am not sure how yet, but… changed.”
Avrielle smiled up at him. “I hope it is for the better.”
“It is.”
“That is good.” Her gaze remained on him for a few moments before she looked down at the infant again as the baby tugged hungrily at her breast. “I feel the same way. I told you that yesterday and it holds true today. It will hold true forever.”
Scott watched her lowered head, thinking how beautiful the woman was by the firelight. He couldn’t help but look at the child, the downy hair standing on end, and wishing the babe was his. He found it somewhat erotic to watch her feed the baby, her full, plump breast illuminated by the firelight, wondering what it would be like to put his mouth to that breast and taste it for himself.
She had a beautiful, swan-like neck that gave way to the swell of her breasts and his mind began to wander to the taste and feel of her flesh. It was the strongest urge he’d ever known and he forced himself to look away, to focus on something else, because he could feel his loins grow hard. They hadn’t been hard in years and now, suddenly, he could feel them pulsing to life again. He quickly sat in a chair by the table.
Needful.
“I hope that is true and that your peace with your grief is everlasting,” he said, remarking belatedly on her comment as he struggled to think on something other than her supple breasts and his heated loins. “In speaking of your future, however, I’ve not yet had the opportunity to tell you that I spoke to the king’s messenger yesterday, as I told you I would. The messenger and I had a fairly serious conversation.”
Avrielle looked at him with concern. “Did you tell him I was unable to travel to London?”
He shook his head. “I did not,” he said. “It occurred to me that telling him that would only delay the inevitable, so I did not tell him that. I told him something else, something more… permanent.”
“What?”
“That you had remarried already.”
He could hear her gasp. “You did?” she asked, incredulous. “But… to whom?”
He looked at her then. “To me.”
As Scott watched, Avrielle’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened. “To… to you?”
“Aye.”
She clearly had no idea how to react. “But… but why? Surely by telling him that, Edward will become quite angry with you!”
Scott couldn’t tell if the idea of being his wife upset her or not. He was rather hoping she might actually appreciate the idea but her lack of an instant expression of joy had him feeling embarrassed and foolish. Now, he was feeling like an idiot.
“Mayhap he will,” he said, looking away quickly so she wouldn’t see the disappointment on his face. “In any case, he will not be too angry. He loves my father and he would not do anything to upset him. So, for the moment, I am safe and so are you. But, at some point, Edward might expect some kind of proof. He may even come to visit Canaan and if he does, then you and I will have to pretend to be happily married. I am sorry if that is distasteful to you, but I thought that by telling Edward you were already married, he would remove you from his political agenda.”
He was speaking rather quickly when he was finished, indicative of his uncertainty on the subject and the uncertainty of his feelings. If Avrielle hadn’t suspected his inner thoughts at the onset, now, she was coming to see that something was wrong. He was agitated, embarrassed even, and she was coming to think that it was because her problems had been too much of a burden to him.
“Oh… my lord,” she breathed as a terrible thought suddenly occurred to her. “I am so sorry you felt the need to do that. I am so sorry that I have been such a burden from the moment you came to Canaan. If I have caused you such trouble, please known how terribly sorry I am. I would have never knowingly caused you problems. But now, you have lied to the king and he will surely be quite cross with you when he finds out the truth. Mayhap… mayhap you should send word to him that we are not, in fact, married and that he may do with me as he wishes. I would not wish to put you in a position that finds you at odds with Edward.”
Scott lifted his head, turning to look at her and seeing how genuinely concerned she was. In fact, she almost appeared distraught.
“I can send him word, of course,” he said, “but it was my intention to spare you from becoming a political pawn. That is no life for you, Avrielle.”
She wasn’t sure how to respond to him. “But you cannot prevent such a thing,” she said softly. “If Edward wishes for me to marry a Scottish lord, then I have no say in it. Nor do you. I would live the rest of my life in terrible guilt if the king were to become angry with you because you tried to protect me. But know that I am deeply grateful for your efforts. You are a kind and gracious man to be so concerned for me.”
Scott listened to her soft voice, thinking that she didn’t sound so disgusted by his lie as he had originally thought. In fact, she sounded quite grateful for it. Hope blossomed anew in his heart.
“Concerned, aye,” he muttered. “But in a sense, your situation is my fault. Nathaniel died to save me. It is, therefore, important that I take responsibility for Nathaniel’s family. Edward would not be angry if my lie was not a lie at all.”
Avrielle cocked her head curiously. “What do you mean?”
“If we were actually married.”
Oddly enough, she didn’t react right away. She simply sat there and looked at him. In truth, Avrielle was in a bit of shock; thoughts of marrying Scott were not new to her but she had no idea he felt the same way. God’s Bones… was it really possible? Was he truly amiable to marrying her?
Avrielle remembered thinking that if she had to marry again, Scott would be an agreeable choice. He was handsome… God, the man was incredibly handsome… but they also had a bond that was difficult to deny. Not only did they share the same grief at the loss of a spouse, but the man had delivered Sorsha. He had cared for both her and her child in a situation that could have been quite devastating.
Aye, Avrielle was attached to Scott. She could admit it. Did she love him? In truth, she wasn’t entirely sure. She still loved Nathaniel, but the man was never coming back and she was resigned to the fact. It didn’t mean there wasn’t room in her heart for someone she had a great deal in common with, a man she admired greatly.
A man that, perhaps, she could love someday.
“Do you feel that we should be married?” she asked after a moment. “I do not want you to feel that you are obligated to do so. You have enough burdens in your life without taking a wife you do not want.”
Scott looked at her; really looked at her. He didn’t sense she was resistant to the suggestion but it was difficult to tell. He’d never been any good at reading women, anyway.
“If you are opposed to it, I will not suggest it again,” he said.
She shook her head. “I did not say I was opposed to it,” she said quietly, looking down at the baby when it began to fuss because her milk was running dry on that breast. “In fact, it would be a great honor. But I do not want you to regret it because you acted on impulse.”
It was actually a very wise response and Scott considered that as she put the baby on the other breast. He didn’t even look away, now gazing at her full naked breasts as the infant nursed. They were beautiful beyond measure. She was beautiful beyond measure. Unable to maintain his seat, he stood up and, very slowly, headed in her direction.
He simply couldn’t control himself any longer.
“I am not impulsive, in any fashion,” he said, his voice low as he came up beside her. “I cannot explain myself, Avrielle. All I know is that I could not stand the thought of you married to anyone else. There; I’ve said it. I do not want you to marry anyone. Edward intends to use you as a pawn in his political games and I could not stand by and watch you marry a lord who would treat you as property. You would never be respected; he might even abuse you. The Scottish lord is a man Edward is attempting to court and he has nothing to lose by raping Canaan for her wealth and leaving you to starve. I simply could not stand by and watch that happen. You deserve better. Mayhap I am foolish to think I am worthy of you, but I was a good husband once before. I would be again. And you would want for nothing.”
He was standing behind her at this point; Avrielle could feel him. She could feel his heat behind her and her breathing began to come in labored gasps as her heart fluttered wildly with excitement. He was watching her; she knew that, perhaps even looking at her naked flesh and the mere thought made her entire body tremble with anticipation. Both breasts were bare and although her daughter was nursing from one of them, it didn’t erase the fact that she was a virile woman and he was a virile man, of flesh and blood and feeling. A shudder ran through her.
“You cannot know how I have longed to hear this,” she whispered. “Although I adore Nat and I always will, you have been heavily on my mind. There is such pain in you but there is also a strong will to survive. You could have crumbled when your wife and children were killed, but you did not. You fought the only way you knew how, just as I did. Mayhap… mayhap we can understand this new world, together, for it would give me great pride to call you husband. And I would be devoted to you, and only you, until I die.”
Scott was standing over her, looking down at her head, the infant against her breast, and feeling his heart swell in ways he could hardly comprehend. He came around to the front of her, taking a knee and bringing himself to her eye level. The expression on his face was nothing short of raw as he gazed into her eyes.
“Swear it to me,” he breathed.
She nodded fervently. “I swear it.”
It was all Scott needed to hear. Those three words cemented something into his heart and soul that he would never again lose, cementing faith that he thought he’d lost. Faith that there would be happiness again in his life and faith that there was hope for the future. He thought he’d lost those feelings long ago, but Avrielle had somehow managed to bring them back. The realization nearly overwhelmed him.
As the babe nursed at her breast, Scott brought his hands up, cupping Avrielle’s sweet face. All he did was stare at her for a moment, feeling her soft flesh beneath his hands, hardly believing this moment was upon him. It didn’t seem real. Yet, Avrielle was very real in his hands, her skin warm and delicate in his palms, and those lips he’d admired from afar were calling to him.
This time, he answered the call.
His mouth slanted over hers, warm and gentle, as her scent filled his nostrils, intoxicating him. It was a defining moment for him because it spoke of untold promises, unspoken words, and a future he thought he’d lost. He could taste her sweetness upon his lips and he feasted on her, listening to her soft gasps of pleasure as he suckled her lips.
His kisses grew bolder, more demanding, but he knew this wasn’t the place for such things. This was only the beginning of what was to come and his mouth left hers, kissing her cheeks, her nose, her eyes, before moving down her neck. Gentle kisses rained over that beautiful neck and onto the swell of her beautiful breasts, feeling the soft and gentle skin against his lips.
As she quivered beneath his touch, he kissed her right breast, kissing the nipple and tasting her milk upon it, before moving to the left breast and kissing the infant that was latched to her. It was part of her and therefore something precious to him, even if the child wasn’t his. But in a sense, the child did belong to him, and he hoped that Nathaniel would approve that little Sorsha should grow up calling him her father. Somehow, he suspected Nathaniel would give his blessing. For any father, to have a decent man tend the family he left behind was the greatest of blessings, indeed.
When he lifted his head to say something to Avrielle, there were tears streaming down her cheeks and he paused, his brow furrowing with concern as his big thumbs wiped the tears away.
“Why do you weep?” he whispered. “Tell me.”
She smiled through her tears. “They are not tears of sadness,” she murmured. “They are tears of joy. I feel such joy at this moment that I could shout it to the world.”
A smile played on Scott’s lips. “We shall both shout it to the world soon enough,” he said. Then, he sobered. “For my part, it has been a very long time since I have felt such emotion. You will forgive me if, at times, I cannot adequately express it. I have spent the past four years ignoring any emotion that threatened to surface. It has been a habit with me to ignore rather than to feel. I hope you will be patient.”
Gently, Avrielle touched his stubbled cheek, caressing the stubble beneath her fingers. “You will have all of my patience and understanding,” she ensured him. “Mayhap we shall learn to feel things that neither of us has ever felt before. I can dream for such things, you know.”
His smile broke through and he leaned forward, kissing her forehead before finally standing up. “I like your dreams,” he said. “I will dream for the same.”
Avrielle smiled up at him, feeling the impact of the moment. It was surreal. But the child at her breast was finally satisfied and she forced herself to focus on the infant, pulling her bodice up even as she put the infant over her shoulder to burp the child.
All the while, however, Scott watched her with an expression she’d never seen before. It was as if that guard he always had in front of him, that shield wall he’d put there on the day he’d lost his family, was finally lowered.
For Avrielle, it was gone.
It was a new day for both of them.