Page 19 of Promises Made at Midnight
She leaned forward to rest her elbow on the table and put her cheek in the palm of her hand. She watched him intently. “How about family? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“You are most inquisitive, Lady Bridgette.” He reached for his wine and peered at her over its rim.
She shrugged. “Wouldn’t you be, if our situations were reversed?” she asked honestly.
“Aye, I suppose I would at that, although I must admit I may be at a loss at how to deal with such a circumstance if the opportunity presented itself,” Ulrick stated. She figured the last thing this medieval knight wanted in life was to be thrown into some future world. “As to your question, I had an older brother who has perished in service to our sovereign King Henry, so I am now head of my family. I also have a younger sister and brother from my mother’s second marriage whom I have not seen in many years.”
“Where is home? What about your parents?”
“My home is many miles to the south, near the coast of West England. My sire passed many years ago. My mother remarried, although her second husband, too, has passed on. Since she refuses to wed for a third time, this has left her to the raising of my brother and sister alone. I send them what monies I can.” He began eating his meal as if he were starving and had not already consumed half of what had been put in front of them.
She remained silent for a few minutes, wondering if perhaps she had pushed him too far. “Okay, I’ve got it. Mother, brother and sister living in the south, haven’t been there in a while and sounds like you have no plans for a visit anytime soon. I assume you’ve been a vassal to Lord Dristan for a while now. Are you one of his minions? I heard he is called the Devil’s Dragon and no human survives who crosses his path?”
“The servants talk too much,” he muttered, almost attacking his food and most likely wanting her to change the subject.
She leaned forward so she wasn’t overheard. “But are the rumors true?” she whispered with a wink, trying to keep from laughing.
If a look could pierce into her soul, then surely Ulrick’s did just that. My God his eyes were so blue with a hint of steel grey coloring they were almost her undoing. She realized he had been answering her question but she didn’t have the foggiest idea what he had been saying.
“What?”
“Merde!”he swore, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve before glaring at her with a frown. “I said, my lady, that since you yourself have crossed Lord Dristan’s path several times today and still sit here before me jabbering away with more conversation than I am used to having at the evening meal, then you have obviously survived to tell the tale that such rumors are a falsehood!”
He began sputtering away in a language she couldn’t understand. Her eye’s widened when she guessed what he was speaking and a laugh escaped her lips. “Oh my God, are you speaking Normal French? That is just so incredibly cool. I never thought I’d ever hear the language aloud. Say something else.”
His lips snapped shut so quickly he cut off whatever he had been muttering on about. “Nay, I will not.” She gave him a pretty little pout to tease him further into possibly getting her way but he was on to her ploy. “And such a face will not sway me to further your jesting of me.”
“I wasn’t making fun of you, Ulrick,” she remarked, feeling the heat of his stare. “I liked the way you sounded speaking it, that’s all.”
Bridgette heard a harrumph once more coming from her dinner companion until a sly roughish grin graced that handsome face of his. She took hold of her goblet of wine that was efficiently filled by a passing servant, and decided to leave the rest of her questions for another day. She could get used to this.
CHAPTER14
Ulrick swung his sword with a broad smile, not that his opponent could see the satisfaction on his face through the plate of his helmet. Godfrey was improving and he had finally achieved the maneuver Ulrick had been trying to engrain into his thick skull for the past two hours. The young knight just might prove himself worthy of becoming one of Dristan’s personal guards after all.
It had been a pleasurable morning, with nothing to occupy his mind but his training. No trying to look as if talk of the future did not bother him, no woman’s chattering asking questions until his head hurt, and no brilliant green eyes boring into his soul. He supposed her constant speech was not so much undesirable as it was exhausting. The woman had been correct when she had declared she had a thousand questions. During their last night of supping together, he was sure he had answered mayhap half of them.
He had not seen Bridgette for the past several days, as she had accompanied Amiria and a small contingent of guards to Habersham Abby where Amiria’s sister, Sabina, had been living. He was still unclear why the abbess allowed Sabina to stay there without taking her vows, but he would leave such a matter alone. ’Twas no business of his what the young lady did with her life and whether she wished to devote her life to God… or not. This was her choice alone. Perchance she just needed time to heal. Only the good Lord above knew the complete details of what Lady Sabina had to endure after the siege of Berwyck many years ago.
He had learned Amiria and Bridgette had returned early last eve, and yet the women had not attended the evening Mass or meal. Instead, ’twas rumored they had spent the eve in Amiria’s solar after seeing to her children. He was unsure how he felt about Lady Amiria taking Bridgette under her care, given the lady of the keep was not like other women he had known. Not that he would ever speak ill of her, or any other woman for that matter.
Was it possible he actually missed Bridgette since he had last seen her? A part of him waited anxiously for when she would attend the next meal. Another part prayed she had not been returned to her own time without him having a chance to bid her Godspeed. ’Twas confusing and he had attempted not to dwell on what the woman did to fill her day, or nights for that matter. He had training to see to with the young knight, who tore off his helmet, assuming they were done for the day.
He removed his own helmet and Ulrick’s brow rose to silently question Godfrey’s motives for a break. “Think you we are done? We have only just begun.”
“Your jest is not amusing, Sir Ulrick,” Godfrey proclaimed, with a grimace. “We have been hacking away at each other since the sun came up.”
“And we shall continue to do so until it sets, unless you concede and wish to leave Berwyck posthaste,” Ulrick taunted, knowing the young man would never give in so easily. He was starting to admire him for his gumption to see the matter through.
“Nay, I will continue until you deem me worthy to be a part of Berwyck’s garrison,” Godfrey answered, shoving his helmet back upon his head. Raising his sword, he waited for Ulrick to do the same.
Instead, Ulrick sheathed his blade in the scabbard hanging from his belt. “Mayhap I will give your sword arm a rest and test how you hold up in a wrestling match. Get you to the Garrison Hall and remove your chainmail and hie yourself over to the others who will test the strength of their arms,” Ulrick ordered. “I will meet you there.
“Aye, Sir Ulrick, gladly,” Godfrey said, with the enthusiasm of a youth ready to prove himself with his elders.
Ulrick called out for mead and a tankard was thrust into his waiting hand. He eagerly quenched his thirst as if he was a man parched for many a day. With feet spread apart, for he would not dare sit and have Dristan chastise him for being weak, he took a moment to rest, whilst his gaze went about his comrades who were busy training.
He had fought beside many of these men and also called them friend for more years than he would care to count. Aye, ’twas true some were no longer here with him now, but that was life and to be expected. Situations and people change. Ulrick was content that his life was a daily routine he could count on to remain the same.
