Page 54 of Knight of Darkness
“Are you, now?” Ceridwen answered. An arched brow appeared before turning her gaze back toward Wymar again as she waited for his answer.
“Nay, she is not,” he replied whilst disengaging Beatrix’s hand.
She continued to stare upon them as though she needed to weigh who was right and who was wrong. Beatrix began to curse beneath her breath until he silenced her with a look that quickly clamped her mouth shut. He waited for Ceridwen to cause a scene as well. Most women would do so when the man they cared for was caught in the arms of another woman. But he knew this woman well. Ceridwen knew her worth. She should know that his feelings for her had not changed in a matter of only a couple of fortnights. Hopefully she knew in her heart that there was more to this story set before her than what met her eyes.
A stolen look in his direction and the slightest grin of her lips told Wymar much. She finally voiced what she had been thinking.
“For a moment I was concerned that you somehow forgot you were only supposed to have one betrothed. I must admit, Wymar, I am relieved such is not the case,” Ceridwen said with a hint of humor in her tone that Wymar had not expected given the circumstances. “It appears introductions are in order. Will you introduce me to the lady?”
“This is Lady Beatrix Grancourt, Richard’s sister,” Wymar said as if announcing her name would explain everything.
“Richard’s younger sister?” Ceridwen repeated with a slight chuckle. “And does your friend know you are dallying with her? Somehow, I do not think that would go over well with him.”
“We were not dallying,” Wymar replied.
“Mayhap you call what you were doing something else, but it certainly appeared as dallying to a casual observer,” Ceridwen remarked before stepping forward and handing a parchment with the Empress’s wax seal into Wymar’s hand. “We have much to discuss once you have perused our Empress’s message. I will leave you so that you may conclude your business with the lady.”
“Ceridwen, wait,” Wymar said as he watched her walk away from him.
She opened the door before replying over her shoulder. “I shall ask your brother to show me the bedchamber reserved for the lady of Brockenhurst. He is currently speaking with Richard, who accompanied me here. You may wish to have speech with him regarding his sister’s… behavior.”
Her words impacted more than one person left in her wake as she left the chamber. Wymar smiled for what felt like the first time in months. But ’twas the sudden weeping of the young woman he had known all her life that made Wymar reach out to comfort her the best he could. Beatrix sobbed whilst the reality of the situation finally revealed itself that she would not get what she truly desired.
Chapter Thirty-Four
After being shownto her bedchamber, Ceridwen busied herself with unpacking her belongings, waving aside the servant who tried to take over the task. ’Twas not as though she had not performed this service a dozen times or more without anyone’s aid. She gave a heavy sigh, feeling as if her days of being a soldier for the Empress had taken place years ago instead of months. Thoughts of Wymar raced through her mind: their time together… their time apart… their reunion which had not gone exactly how Ceridwen thought ’twould play out.
She had to admit, at least in the privacy of her own bedchamber, that she had felt the briefest glimmer of jealousy to see Lady Beatrix sitting on Wymar’s lap, kissing him. Such a scene had been like a dagger to her heart, and yet she could not dismiss the look of unmistakable joy that flickered in Wymar’s eyes when he saw her enter the chamber. His heart was hers. With that certainty to bolster her, Lady Beatrix would not get the best of her nor would she allow the young woman to stand between herself and the man she was commanded to wed.
Commanded… ’twas not so much a command as ’twas her heartfelt desire to take Wymar as her husband. She should have not been so foolish months ago when he offered for her, but she had not been in a good place in her mind. Until she had resolved her turmoil, she could not freely give herself to Wymar no matter how much she cared for him.
Aye! Cared for him she did. Yet, he must needs take care of the situation with Richard’s sister and see to it that she no longer presented an obstacle to their marriage. After all, the Empress herself gave her blessing to the marriage between them. That in itself should be enough for the young woman to leave them in peace.
If Ceridwen thought long and hard about what she had witnessed, she could possibly understand the lengths Lady Beatrix might go to if she had held an affection for Wymar all her life. But this did not change the fact that Wymar and Ceridwen would wed, and she was not foolish enough to think Lady Beatrix would not have a place in their lives. The young lady was the beloved sister to Wymar’s closest friend. They were bound to see the woman from time to time and ’twould be in their best interest if they could find a common accord.
A soft knock on her bedchamber door echoed in the room and Ceridwen bid whoever was on the other side of the portal to enter. She looked up, hoping to see Wymar, only to be disappointed. Agnes, who had traveled with her from Norwich, was there to assist Ceridwen with dressing for the evening meal. Either Wymar was too busy dealing with Lady Beatrix or he was not as happy to see Ceridwen as she had hoped.
There was no sense in delaying the inevitable. As the soon-to-be lady of the estate, there were certain expectations she must meet. Her responsibilities would be no different than if she had been allowed to stay at Norwich. The maid pulled out several garments that Ceridwen only recently put away, Agnes awaiting Ceridwen’s approval on which gown she would don for the eve. She nodded to a garment the color of autumn leaves knowing the color would complement her. The servant carefully laid the dress upon the bed, put the rest of the gowns away, and then waited for Ceridwen to sit in order for her hair to be done.
Agnes began to weave her magic as she coiffed her hair, much like she had done the day Richard had arrived at Norwich with his news that she would wed Wymar. Multiple braids with a ribbon matching her gown had been interwoven into her golden tresses. Agnes then wound them all around her head as if like a crown. It looked pleasing enough and Ceridwen murmured her thanks. The gown came next and before she knew it, she was prepared to go down to the great hall. She was, however, unsure if she was to wait for Wymar to come and accompany her downstairs or if she was to go there on her own. Agnes gave her the answer she stood in need of.
“Lord Wymar asked ye to meet him in the great hall, milady. Do ye remember the way or would ye like me to show ye? I have been inspecting the passageways to get myself familiar with the keep,” Agnes said.
So… she was to enter the lion’s den without the reinforcement of her soon-to-be husband. So be it. “Nay, I do not need you to show me the way. I can find it,” Ceridwen answered, and the servant bobbed a curtsey. “I never thanked you for agreeing to accompany me here to Brockenhurst, Agnes. It is nice to have someone with me who remembers my mother and all I left behind.”
The woman’s eyes widened momentarily before she gave a wide smile. “’Tis an honor to continue my service to ye, milady.”
Ceridwen gave the woman a nod. “Thank you for the lovely job you did with my hair and getting me ready for the evening meal. I shall not need your assistance when I retire later so you may go and enjoy the rest of your eve to spend at your leisure.”
Agnes beamed. “Thank ye, milady. That is very gracious of ye.” She held open the door, waiting for Ceridwen to leave the bedchamber. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and mentally prepared herself to meet whatever ordeal that awaited her in the great hall.
She began her descent down one of the turrets. Conversations of those already seated in the hall reached her and she once more found the courage within herself to show these people that she was more than ready to become the mistress of Brockenhurst. When she stood on the last step and appeared at the entrance, all conversations diminished into a deafening quietness and but awaited the lord of the manor to say something to break the awkward silence.
Head held high, Ceridwen began making her way to the hearth where Wymar, Reynard, and Richard stood. She nodded whilst passing the many knights and ladies already seated at lower tables, and their speech began to grow louder the farther into the room she went. Once she stood before the three men, they bowed and she curtseyed until Wymar held out his hand for her to take. Her fingers trembled once they touched the warmth of his palm.
“My lady,” Wymar began, “you are a vision beyond compare. May I be the first to formally welcome you to your new home?”
She arched a delicate brow thinking that this public greeting was overdue and should have been his initial response hours ago. But she would not push the matter, at least for now, in front of their people. “You are too kind, my lord. I look forward to the day when we can take our horses for a ride and see the rest of your lands.”
