“She said she’ll think about it! Think about it,” repeated Martin, sparring with his squire the next morning. They stood in the practice yard early in the day, hours before the practice was scheduled for the rest of the knights. His father sat on a bench nearby, watching, twirling a piece of straw in his fingers.
“My lord,” said Rock, fighting off each blow as if he were fighting for his life. “I am sorry Lady Winter doesn’t want to marry you, but please don’t take it out on me. Especially not so early in the morning. My eyes are barely open yet.”
“Oh, sorry,” he said, lowering his sword, dragging his free hand through his hair. “I don’t understand what I did wrong. I tried to be romantic. I even gave her the key to my heart.”
“Your heart?” asked Rock, stifling a yawn with his hand.
“Well, mayhap not my heart. It was a key to a chest I own that has a heart shaped lock.”
“Your mother likes hearts,” said Lambert, sitting up straighter, listening to their conversation. “Mayhap, I should give her my heart when she returns.”
“Forget it, Father,” growled Martin, walking over to the trough of water, laying his sword on the bench. “Women don’t want our hearts. They probably just want to take off our heads.” He dunked his head under the water and came up shaking the water from his hair.
“Give her flowers,” said Lambert. “Girls like flowers.”
“Or a horse,” suggested Rock.
“A horse?” asked Martin. “Egads, Squire, you make no sense. How is that romantic?”
“She doesn’t have a horse, does she?” asked Rock.
“Nay,” answered Martin. “Neither does she have a mail tunic. Do you think I should give her one of those, too?”
“Hmm,” said Rock, putting his hand to his chin in thought. “She is a blacksmith, so she might already have made one for herself. If you don’t want to give her a horse, then give her a goat. She might like that.”
“A goat? You are daft! I give up,” said Martin, plopping down on the bench. “I was trying to do her a favor by marrying her, but she acted as if she didn’t want me to.” His falcon flew down and landed on the bench. Martin reached out and ran a finger over its head in thought.
“You fool!” spat Lambert. “Everyone knows a girl wants to be married to a man who loves her. The way I love your mother.”
“I do love her,” said Martin.
“You lust her,” his father corrected him.
“What’s the difference?” asked Martin.
He looked over to Rock who just shrugged his shoulders. Then he looked back to his father.
“I’ll ask your mother about it as soon as she gets home,” said his father. “She’ll know the best way for a man to show his love for a woman.”
“Thanks. Both of you,” Martin said in aggravation, getting up off the bench, taking his bird with him. “But you’ve been no help at all.”
* * *
Winter woke up the next morning thinking last night had been a dream. Had Martin really asked her to marry him? She might have believed she’d imagined the whole thing if it wasn’t for the fact she was lying in bed wearing the cream-colored gown of a lady and clutching the iron key with the heart on the end of it in her hand.
She lifted the key and ran her finger over the heart, outlining it.
“It’s about time ye got up!” Nairnie waddled over and pulled open the shutter, letting in the sun.
“Oh, it’s day already. I intended to get up early to work on the sword.” Winter sat up and swung her feet over the side of the bed. “I must have overslept.”
“What’s that?” asked Nairnie, nodding to the key.
“Martin gave this to me,” she said. “But then again, you’d know that since you sent him to the garden just like you did to me.” She stood up and stretched. “How could you do that, Nairnie? You knew I was going to be naked in the pond.”
“It was a test,” said the old woman.
“A test? What do you mean?”
“He saw ye naked, ye say?”
“Aye, he did.”
“And did he – do anythin’ with ye?”
“Was that your plan? I’m shocked that you would do such a thing.” She put the key down on the bedside table and headed over to collect the simple gown Nairnie had mended that was lying across the chair. “I hate to take off this beautiful gown, but I don’t want to ruin it in the smithy.”
“I’ll be glad when ye’re done foolin’ around with that sword. Ye need to start dressin’ and actin’ like a lady again.” Nairnie helped her to change. “Did Martin ask ye anythin’ last night?”
“He did, Nairnie. He asked me to marry him. He gave me that key and said it was the key to his heart.”
“He did?” Nairnie chuckled. “I didna think he had it in him. And he didna try to couple with ye?”
“We only kissed. But his hands did wander a little.”
She chuckled again. “It was probably hard for a man like Martin to hold back. So, tell me. When is the weddin’?”
“I don’t know since I didn’t agree to marry him.” Winter picked up a boar’s bristle brush and ran it through her hair.
“Blethers, lassie, why no’? This was yer only chance to marry a noble.”
“I want to marry a man who loves me and whom I love in return. I’m just not sure yet if that man is Martin.” She gazed into the air, thinking about the whole situation.
“No one is goin’ to marry ye so ye might just as well accept his offer before he takes it back.”
“Do you think he’d do that, Nairnie?” Winter put down the hairbrush.
“Ye rejected the man. Most men dinna ask a lassie anythin’, but rather tell them they are gettin’ married.”
“I didn’t reject him. Not really.” Winter walked over and picked up the key again and smiled. “I told him I’d think about it – and I will.”
“What is there to think about? Ye are playin’ a dangerous game, lassie. If ye get him mad, he might just marry someone else to spite ye.”
“I know we enjoy each other’s company in the bedchamber, but that is the problem. I also know he enjoys coupling with a lot of women. I don’t want to marry him and then have him reverting to his old ways afterward.”
“Ye canna control him, Lady Winter. Most lords have mistresses and trysts with their servants. It’s a common thing.”
“That doesn’t make it right. I want to marry a man who couples only with me.”
“Ye are livin’ in a dream world, then. Now, dinna ruin yer only chance to be respected as a proper noblewoman. Accept his offer and do it now.”
“I don’t like the way everyone is assuming that I’m so undesirable to other noblemen just because I’ve given my virginity to Lord de Grey. I’m young and pretty. I’m sure I’ll have many offers of marriage.”
“Ye keep foolin’ yerself and one day ye’ll wake up old and all alone and remember my advice, but it’ll be too late. Och, lassie, ye are the most stubborn of all yer sisters.”
Nairnie left the room mumbling to herself and shaking her head.
“Did I make the wrong decision?” she asked herself, running her hand over the heart on the key again. Before she gave Martin her answer, she had to know how he really felt about her. Did he love her – or was it just lust? And were her feelings for him anything more than carnal pleasures? Somehow, she had to find out or, as Nairnie said, it might be too late once she finally made a choice.
* * *
Martin made his way to the smithy later that day to check on the progress of his sword. He entered the shop, surprised to see Winter inside all by herself. She sat on a bench attached to the large grinding stone, using the foot pedal to make the stone spin. From a bucket of water with a spigot hanging over the stone came a continuous drip of water. Holding the sword’s edge up at an angel, she sharpened the side of the blade. A screeching noise of stone against metal filled the room. As she worked, an occasional spark shot out from the sides of the stone where it was dry.
“How is the progress on the sword coming along?” Martin asked, feeling awkward being there. He didn’t know what to say. Eagerly, he awaited her answer to his proposal, yet part of him regretted asking her as well.
“Hello, Martin.” Winter stopped pumping the pedal of the grinding wheel and blew the dust from the sword. It was a good sign she was calling him by his Christian name. Perhaps, she’d had a change of heart and wanted to marry him after all. “The sword is almost finished. I just need to make a cross guard, finish the hilt, and then polish it. What kind of a hand grip would you like over the tang?”
“I’m sure whatever you decide will be fine. Just something comfortable in my grasp and that won’t slip when I thrust it forward.”
She giggled, the playful side of her taking his words in the wrong way.
“Just use walnut,” he said.
“All right, walnut it is. Unless you’d like a grip covered in leather.”
“Whatever you decide.” He scoped the room. “Where is everyone?
“The work I need to do on the sword now doesn’t require a lot of assistance. I told Wallace and Josef to spend time together doing whatever it is fathers and sons do. I think they went fishing.”
“Spend time together,” he repeated, contemplating the idea.
“What did you say?” She kept working on the sword as she spoke.
“I think you need to take some time off,” he told her, reaching out and taking her hand in his. She looked up with wide eyes.
“I thought you’d be in a hurry to get your sword completed so you can save your brother.”
“My brother’s life is safe as long as I have my enemy’s son. A few hours away from the forge will do you good.”
“I’d rather keep working.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.” He took the sword from her and laid it down. It was light in his hand yet seemed to be strong and sturdy. She did fine work. “I want you to go put on the gown of a lady and meet me in the stable within the hour.”
“The stable?” she asked. “Why?”
“I have a surprise for you.”
“For me? What is it?”
“Just meet me in the stable and you will find out.”
“All right,” she said, wiping her hands on a rag and throwing it down. She glanced back at the sword. “I suppose taking an hour or two off won’t make that much difference.”
“Meet me in the stable,” he repeated, hoping she would like the surprise.
* * *
Winter walked into the stable an hour later, wearing the cream-colored gown she’d worn at the pond last night. When she crossed the courtyard looking like this, she noticed people nodding their heads watching her. One or two of the servants even called her “my lady”. It felt good to be a lady again. Mayhap Nairnie was right. Martin might be the only nobleman who would ever want to marry her.
“Lady Winter,” said Martin, meeting her at the door. He looked handsome dressed in a forest green tunic with black hose and breeches. He wore gloves and boots that meant they were going to go riding.
“What’s the surprise?” she asked. “Is it that we’re going to go riding? I love riding, although I haven’t done it in a while.”
“Well, after today, you’ll be able to ride every day,” said Martin. “Rock, bring out the surprise,” he called out. Rock walked out of a stall holding the reins of a white mare.
“What a beautiful horse,” she said, rushing forward to pet it on the nose. She noticed Andromeda, Martin’s falcon watching her from the rafters.
“Her name is Athena, named after the Greek goddess of wisdom. I thought she’d be perfect for you. You are smart and very much look the part of a goddess.”
She lowered her head at his compliment and felt the blush rise to her cheeks. Being treated this way was nice. “This is for me?” she asked, excitedly, rubbing the horse on her soft, pink nose. “I’ve never had a horse of my own. Thank you.”
“You are more than welcome, my lady,” he answered with a smile.
“However . . . I can’t accept it.”
“What? Why not?” asked Martin as his smile turned into a frown.
“It just doesn’t seem right,” she told him.
“Mayhap you should have gone with the goat, my lord, and started out slowly,” said Rock, scratching the back of his neck.
“Get my horse, Squire, and stop with the babbling.” Martin turned away from her.
Her horse was prepared with a lady’s saddle. While she preferred riding astride, it wouldn’t have been appropriate with the gown she wore, so she didn’t object. Once they were both mounted, he led the way toward the drawbridge.
“Where are we going?” she asked curiously.
“Just for a ride. Nowhere special,” he told her, sulking since she’d rejected his gift.
He led the way out of the castle and then slowed, allowing her to catch up. His falcon flew ahead of them, being distracted, hunting down a pigeon in the process. They rode in silence for a while and then he finally spoke.
“Why not?”
“Why not, what?” she asked.
“Why can’t you accept my gift of the horse? What do you mean it doesn’t feel right?”
“Oh, that.” She thought about it and nodded. “I suppose I can accept it, but I don’t feel I should. That is, not until I make my decision whether or not to marry you. If I don’t marry you and have already accepted your gift, then you’ll lose a good horse when I take it with me.”
“How thoughtful of you,” he muttered.
“Martin, can we stop by the river?” she asked, hearing the sound of water crashing over rocks. The River Tweed stretched out before them, heading all the way up into Scotland. They stopped on the banks. Before she could dismount, he’d hopped off his horse and had his hands around her waist.
“Allow me, my lady.”
She felt like a queen the way he helped her from the horse. He certainly had a different style with noblewomen than he did with commoners. She liked this side of him better.
“I’ll water the horses.” When he headed away with the horses, she sat on a rock near the edge of the stream. Martin saw her, and came back and sat next to her.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Sorry? For what?” She picked up a stone and tossed it into the water. It landed with a plunk, splashing water up into the air.
“For taking your virginity. I didn’t know you were a noblewoman.”
“Oh, that,” she said. Martin not only looked but also sounded sincere with his apology. “I am to blame as well. After all, I deceived you, and you didn’t know I was a noblewoman.”
“I want to marry you,” he said.
“I know. Is it because you feel sorry for me? Nairnie said no nobleman would ever want me now. Do you think it’s true?”
“All I know is that I want you, Winter.” His dark blue eyes looked straight into hers.
“Aye. I know how you want me. We both seem to have a problem where that is concerned.”
“I’m not talking about in the bedchamber – although I do want you there, too. I’m talking about making you my wife. I want you to be Lady of Castle Heaton.”
“But you barely know me,” she said.
“Sweetheart, I think we know each other pretty well.” He raised a brow.
That made her giggle. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.” She slapped her hand over her eyes. “Tell me what color eyes I have. I bet you don’t even know.” She didn’t think he’d ever noticed.
“Bright green like precious emeralds glittering in the midday sun,” he answered. “Your hair is ebony like a midnight moonless sky, contrasting with your smooth, delicate skin as white as snow.”
She peeked out from between her fingers, wondering if this was the same man. He intrigued her. Had he come up with that all by himself? Dropping her hand to her side, she stared into his eyes, not able to believe he sounded so romantic. “Continue,” she said, wanting to hear more.
“Your laughter is like the sweet song of the meadowlark.” He caressed the side of her face, and she slowly leaned in to his touch. “Your knowledge and skill of the forge is amazing, and your vibrancy to want to experience life is infectious. The scent of sweet wildflowers clings to your body, only enhancing the taste of your lips that are sweeter than ripe berries.” He leaned toward her and kissed her gently, and she didn’t stop him. As Winter’s heart melted, her eyes closed.
“You can be romantic,” she whispered, inhaling the scent of his manly essence, letting it fill her soul.
“I know you think I only want to marry you because of guilt, but that is not true, my lady. I admit I enjoyed our romp in the bedchamber when I first met you. My lust for you is like a raging fire, out of control. But that is not why I want you to accept my proposal of marriage.”
“Then why?” she asked.
His finger traced her lips as he spoke. “You, my dear, are like no other woman I have ever met. When you left Castle Heaton, I felt my heart breaking in two. I couldn’t imagine a day without you in it. And when you returned, my heart was elated. What I am trying to say is that I think, for the first time in my life, I have found someone with whom I want to spend the rest of my days. I love you, Winter. Although you might not feel the same way now, perhaps you will later. With just a little time, I am sure I can make you love me, too.”
“I will not lie, Martin, I don’t feel as if I love you the way you say you love me. But I see a different side to you now that I think I would like to get to know better.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, I am ready to give you my answer. Yes! I will accept your proposal of marriage, my lord. I will wed you and become your wife.”