Page 11 of Promise of a Knight
Chapter Four
After her less than honorable thoughts, Alex avoided Sir Alaric at all costs. Ever vigilant of his whereabouts, she hastened from her mount before he could reach her, having donned her new riding gown, a soft blue satin with doves embroidered on it, though the rest of the ladies remained in their finery. At every repast, she sat between two other ladies, leaving no room for a flirting knight and, while there, she kept herself firmly engaged in the women’s frivolous nonsense. She kept her horse firmly tucked between riders. Every place they came to rest their heads, she rushed in the door first, volunteered to help the queen dress and undress, so she might always be surrounded by others.
The problem with being so vigilant was that she wasalwaysaware of Alaric.
Never was he out of her mind, or her sight, and as a consequence she thought about him more than if she’d simply been acting normal.
But she did avoid him. Avoided the touch of his lips on her hand, or his fingers spanning her waist as he helped her dismount. His wicked winks and delicious smiles.
The other drawback to being vigilant: she was making Sir Alaric just as aware of her avoidance as she was.
He stared at her constantly, a teasing curve to his lips, mischief dancing in his eyes. The knight knew she was avoiding him and he was enjoying the unease it gave her. Damn the man!
Two days passed before they finally reached Dalkeith Castle. Hopefully, he’d soon be leaving them, going back to theSassenachcountry he’d come from and then she’d no longer have to watch her back, peek into every darkened corner and hasten down the stairs in such a way that truly threatened her very life if she were to trip.
Today she rode beside the princess, at Margaret’s own request as she’d gotten used to Alex being close to her over the past couple of days. In her intent to ignore Alaric, Alex had been overly attentive to the princess and, in fact, had grown to actuallylikethe English royal. Blasphemous, if she were to seek her family’s opinion—which she wouldn’t.
The castle was surrounded by a river, which looked to have swelled with the recent summer rain. The keep itself was tall and thick, and not as elegant as Alex imagined Edinburgh Castle and Holyrood Palace would look when they finally arrived there in a few days’ time, but it was well secured with a high, thick wall that teamed with guards, and canons stuck through slots in the crenellations.
As soon as their party was spotted, the trumpets sounded and the gates were opened. A tall, elegantly dressed man rode his horse out of the gates, armored knights behind him. Was this the king come to greet his bride?
Margaret fidgeted beside Alex, her face blushing a pretty pink. The Countess of Home, having pushed the princess’ English ladies back—including the Countess of Surrey—sat on the other side of the princess, her back ramrod straight, and her gaze ahead. No one offered the young bride even a word of comfort.
Alex ignored the sparkling necklace at the soon-to-be queen’s throat, and instead said something along the lines of what she wished her mother had said to her before shipping her off to court. At least something to give her a boost of confidence. “There is the road ahead, and there is the road behind us. Today ye begin yer new journey. And a great journey it will be.”
Margaret smiled. “You speak in riddles, Lady Alex. But I love that about you.” She reached out and squeezed Alex’s hand. “I’m glad to have you beside me.”
The moment quickly passed as the princess sat tall, her face going stoic as she was trained from birth, her gaze directly on her future husband.
King James dismounted from his horse and bowed to his wife, helping her dismount. He kissed her hand and led her inside the castle gates to the sounds of cheers going up all around them. It seemed romantic and not at all what Alex would have expected. Though the king was twice her age, he appeared to be smitten with her, and by the look on Margaret’s face, she seemed equally taken.
The next several hours were filled with unpacking Margaret’s things into the room she’d stay in for the next several days, as well as storing the items she’d brought with her from England inside the barn with her many horses.
The scents of the great feast filled the castle and the courtyard, and the energy flowing from every person made the air pulse with excitement. Alex’s belly rumbled at the thought of poached salmon swimming in a creamy lemon caper sauce and roasted suckling pig, turnips drizzled in butter and spices and bread baked so fresh the steam still rose from the crusts.
She changed into the gown she’d worn when she first greeted the royal party at Lamberton, the hem having been cleaned of mud by one of the washwomen at Fast Castle. Passing the looking glass that stood in Princess Margaret’s chamber, Alex paused a moment to look at herself. There were no mirrors at Caerlaverock. At least not yet. Her mother despised the notion and thought it a vanity that no humble woman should entertain. As a result, Alex had only ever seen herself in the reflection of water.
She touched her face, surprised by the young and excited-looking woman who gazed back at her. Eyes as blue as the sky and hair as red as flames. Her skin was creamy as milk and her neck long. She touched her simple necklace of lace and pearls. What would it be like to wear the fancy emerald and amethyst necklace that she was sent to steal?
When they’d dressed the princess, she’d had a choice of two additional necklaces the king had gifted her with, though she was certain she should wear the emerald one. But it was Alex who convinced young Margaret that the ruby and diamond choker was best for the evening feast. Alex had put her grandmother’s necklace back into the wooden chest, setting it inside the princess’ temporary wardrobe, and planned to come back for it when everyone was enjoying the feast.
Startled from her daze by the clapping of Lady Home, Alex hurried to follow the rest of the ladies who’d already exited the royal chamber.
“Have ye never seen a mirror before?” the countess asked, a sneer in her tone.
“Nay,” Alex said simply, her head held high. She wanted to add she was not as vain as the others, but then she’d be insulting Princess Margaret and that wouldn’t do. And besides, was it truly vain to wonder what one looked like?
Lady Home grunted and then lifted her skirts hurrying away from Alex as quickly as she could.
The attendants in the Great Hall stood when Princess Margaret entered. The King was seated at the dais and he, too, stood, but did not move from his position. Margaret walked toward him slowly, but confidently and when she reached the front of the dais she curtsied. The king bowed his head then indicated for her to take the seat to his left.
The dais was filled with Scottish nobles—including Lord and Lady Home—and the rest of the princess’ ladies were given prime seating at a long trestle table adjacent to the royal table. Alex scanned the crowd for Alaric, and found him leaning up against a wall, his arms crossed over his chest. Did the man never enjoy himself? Was he always on alert?
The few times they’d been alone he’d been so different. He was someone else altogether in front of the others. Distant. Dignified. Dangerous.
Alex suffered through the first half of the meal, her stomach twisting into knots at what she needed to do. The poached salmon felt thick in her mouth and the buttered turnips extra sour. She sipped her wine, hoping to wash the flavors from her tongue, but the drink only seemed to burn her throat.
The only thought on her mind was at least attempting to assuage her parents’ request. To be done with it. Lord, but she didn’t want to!
