Page 49 of Knight of Darkness
A runner from the keep had informed him a wagon approached and he assumed that his future bride had at last arrived. He would need to clean himself before he received her. He had no desire for her first impression of him to be reeking of his horse.
He had been on edge for the past two fortnights torn between wondering whom the Empress would send for his wife and reminding himself that it did not matter since this was a union for convenience only. A way for his bloodline to continue long after he was gone from this earth. ’Twas no matter who the Empress had chosen to be his bride. This mystery woman would never find a place in his heart for that space had already been claimed by a blonde shieldmaiden whom Wymar still could not forget. He would perform his duty as his future wife would perform hers… to sire an heir and that was all. He could then say he had obeyed his Empress.
Theobald had somehow managed to send a brief missive that he was following the Empress when she fled London to Oxford. Reynard but recently returned home which would seem to confirm that the time for Wymar’s marriage was fast approaching. Other news was fleeting and only caused Wymar to worry if his brother yet lived. Knowing Stephen was still proclaimed king did not sit well with Wymar but there was little he could do on that matter. His fighting days for the Empress were at an end until and unless perchance she called for his aid again. For now, he would obey her command and hold this estate in her name. ’Twas all that was expected of him, and he would do no more than that.
A servant had already seen that a bath awaited him in his chamber and as he stripped off his garments and sunk into the steaming hot water, thoughts of that golden-haired vixen once again entered his mind. He hated to admit how much he continued to have thoughts of the blue-green eyed beauty. On some level, he knew she still cared for him, but did she love him as he loved her? Or had all of that changed in those terrible weeks that she had been held captive? Mayhap she even blamed him for his part in her dilemma. If he had not been so foolish as to get himself captured in the first place, then Ceridwen would have had no need to sacrifice herself to see to his rescue. Aye, they both had been fools in their endeavors to save one another but he could not dwell on the past. He prayed his lady was well and time was healing the mental abuse that had been inflicted upon her.
Hislady… Aye, he still thought of her as somehow belonging to him but that was purely a hopeless fantasy on his part. No doubt she would also soon be required to wed. Mayhap the Empress had a groom in mind for her already. Wymar scowled at the thought of some unknown man making Ceridwen his wife. As much as he wished otherwise, the reality of their situation meant he could in no way claim the woman ashis.
A growl of frustration filled the room, and Wymar rose from his bath. Drying off, he waved away Turbert, who stood nearby, and dismissed the boy. Wymar was more than capable of dressing himself and he would see to the lad soon to ensure he was kept busy in his other duties as his squire. He chose a blue tunic and leather jerkin. Hose and boots came next, and he took a ceremonial dress sword and placed it in his belt. He might as well look the part of a wealthy nobleman for his new bride when he greeted her.
He took his time descending the turret stairs in order to delay the inevitable, even if only for a few moments more. As he entered his hall, he noticed a woman with long black flowing hair standing in front of his hearth. Her attendants were also near as they stretched their hands toward the fire to warm them.
“Welcome, my lady,” Wymar said hoping the sound of his voice had a welcoming quality that did not echo as grimly as he felt. She turned and he was surprised to see who stood before him.
Richard’s sister, Lady Beatrix, stretched out her hands to take his and turned her cheek toward him. He dutifully placed a chaste kiss there before he returned the gesture to the other side of her face.
“Wymar… ’tis so good to see you. It has been so long since I have been to Brockenhurst that I just knew I had to come once I learned you had reclaimed your birthright,” she exclaimed, her eyes dancing in delight whilst she examined him with an affectionate gaze. “You are looking exceptionally well, my lord.”
“As are you, my lady,” he answered holding her at arm’s length and looking behind her. “Richard has not traveled with you?”
“Nay. He still attends to matters for the Empress or so his missive informed us once it reached us. He has been missed at home, however, since he went gallivanting across the countryside with you. My parents are especially reluctant to see him disappear again for months on end.”
“’Twas hardly as though we were on a journey of leisure, my dear,” Wymar answered. Beatrix had always been a beautiful woman in his opinion, but she was his friend’s sister making her off-limits as far as he had been concerned. The way she was gazing upon him made him ponder if she was thinking of their relationship as more than that.God forbid… that was all he needed.
She gave a casual wave of her hand. “Aye… attending to the Empress’s business with all that such a duty entails, I suppose. We must needs all appease her and obey her commands. I see Brockenhurst once more thrives under your care, my lord,” she said whilst her gaze continued to take in his appearance along with his hall.
His brow furrowed whilst he searched her face. Her words about the Empress and obeying her commands had his stomach sinking. Was she talking about…God’s Wounds!The Empress would not make him marry a woman who was more like a sister to him, would she?
He stepped back from the woman before him even as she stepped forward to keep him close to her side. “You have been sent by the Empress Matilda?” he inquired, lifting his brow whilst his question lingered in the space between them. Her visage transformed quickly before him: one moment showing appreciation at how he appeared, he supposed, and the next moment, there was a frown furrowing her brow. She recovered swiftly.
She gave a laugh before answering. “Aye, our Empress has sent me to you,” she said before her gaze traveled to her ladies who also appeared just as surprised at her statement. “Why else would I be here without Richard?”
She frowned at her ladies and Wymar questioned to himself if such a look was a brief silent warning to her attendants to play along with her ruse. But Beatrix once more quickly transformed her features and turned a smiling face in his direction.
“I cannot believe she would send you as my bride,” he said voicing his doubts aloud.
Her eyes widened in surprise before a laugh escaped her perfectly formed lips. She stepped forward, causing a flowery sent to invade his senses. Her fingers began running down the edges of his jerkin. “Why ever not, Wymar?” she asked letting all formality drop between them. “We are more than compatible, both from noble houses. My dowry alone will see you well established even if you were not in need of the monies I would bring with our union. You must have known that I have held a certain affection for you for many a year.”
“But you are like a sister,” he insisted with a raised voice. How the bloody hell had he gotten himself into such a mess?
“Nevertheless, I am here because I care for you, Wymar, and, of course, at the Empress’s command. We do wish to stay in her good graces, do we not?”
“Aye, we must obey at all costs,” he muttered between clenched teeth. The last thing he needed was to have his title and lands stripped from him again by an angry monarch. But still… Beatrix of all women would cause him much anguish if she were to become his bride. Why Richard had not sent a runner with such information so as to warn him was beyond Wymar’s understanding. Unless he had no such knowledge of the forthcoming union whilst he went about the Empress’s business?
Beatrix seemed relieved by his answer before she gave a yawn. “We are tired from our travels, Wymar. Do you suppose…”
He ran a hand through his hair, then motioned for a servant. “Have chambers readied for Lady Beatrix and her attendants,” he ordered before giving the lady a short bow. “I will see you at the evening meal.”
“I look forward to many such meals together,” she whispered before turning her head to one side.
He bent forward and placed a chaste kiss upon her cheek. ’Twas not as though he had not performed such a task many a time in the past but now ’twas a different situation. Beatrix… his soon to be wife…God’s Wounds!What a farce his life had become.
Chapter Thirty-One
Ceridwen’s servant finishedtying a purple ribbon throughout her braided hair. Sitting still this long had been pure torture but she had to make herself presentable. The Empress’s messenger had arrived, and she had kept him waiting long enough. With his appearance, she knew she would be leaving Norwich, perhaps never to set foot on the estate again. But after overseeing the progress the serfs in the fields had made, she smelled of horse and God only knew what else. She certainly could not receive the Empress’s appointed man smelling like a stable hand.
“Ye look beautiful, milady,” Agnes said interrupting her thoughts. Agnes patted her hair one last time whilst inspecting her work. “Just like yer mother.”
