Dragonblade Trilogy - 02 - Island of Glass (41 page)

He was dressed in pristine
clothing, breeches that were of the softest leather and a linen tunic that
strained across his massive chest. He simply stood there, his big arms folded
across his chest, his ice-blue eyes distant. 

Aubrielle looked at him curiously
although she knew what his trouble was. He just didn’t want to admit it. 
Quietly, she entered the room and shut the door.

“My sweet love,” she made her way
to him, wrapping her arms around his torso and giving him a gentle hug. “You
must come down. You cannot avoid this.”

Kenneth sighed faintly. He began
to look uncomfortable. “I do not know if I can go through with this.”

Aubrielle laughed softly, kissing
his rough cheek.  She gently ran a hand through his cropped blond hair, now
gray at the temples. 

“You cannot keep her your baby
forever,” she murmured. “Witney is seventeen now and a woman grown. Her groom
is awaiting her in the hall and you cannot avoid this marriage.  It is time.”

He sighed again, roughly, and
moved away from the window.  Aubrielle let go of him and watched him pace, her
powerful handsome husband who had only grown more powerful and handsome with
age.  She knew his moods, his thoughts, his heart. She knew that the marriage
of his only daughter, his youngest, had turned him into an emotional idiot and
he did not want to embarrass himself in front of his guests. Hiding in their
bower was his way of avoiding the situation.

“I look at her and I still see
that little girl with the curly white hair and pure blue eyes,” he sat heavily
on their bed, seemingly despondent. “I see that baby I first held in my arms,
the toddler who would eat nothing but cheese, and the beautiful young girl
riding her new red pony. I see all of these things; who is this young woman
downstairs, eager to be wed? That is not my daughter.”

“The pony threw her,” Aubrielle
reminded him softly.

“I know,” he said, agitated, as
his eyes came up to meet his wife’s. “The point is, she is my baby, my only
daughter, and I do not know if I can hand her off to another man. What if he
does not take care of her as he should? What if…?”

“Then she will let him know,” Aubrielle
interrupted firmly, moving to sit on the bed next to him. “Ken, we went through
this when it was time for her to foster. You did not want to let go of her
then, either.”

He looked away. “She went away.”

“Aye, she went to foster with
Stephen and Joselyn,” Aubrielle pointed out. “They treated her like one of the
family until you went to retrieve her six months later because you could not
stand to be parted from her. Joselyn thought she had done something wrong and
you spent days convincing her that she had not. Do you recall? You made the
woman cry, Ken.”

He pursed his lips regretfully,
remembering that difficult time. “I did not mean to,” he said. “She knows that.
I just wanted my daughter back.”

Aubrielle wasn’t unsympathetic.
She put her hands on his face, forcing him to look at her.  “She will always be
your daughter,” she reassured him. “But she must become another man’s wife. She
must grow up and you cannot stop it.”

Kenneth gazed into the face of
the woman he loved more deeply than words could express.  She had grown into
such a beautiful, wise woman, more beautiful with each passing year.  She was
dressed in a dark purple surcoat, her lovely hair wrapped in a bun at the nape
of her neck. The sea crystal eyes were just as bright, hardly lined. The more
he looked at her, the weaker he felt until he eventually fell forward against
her and captured her in his powerful embrace. Aubrielle held him tightly.

“You should be very proud,” she
whispered into his hair. “Bren and Evan have become powerful knights, like
their father, and you have a beautiful daughter who is much sought after. You
have had a very proud life, Ken. But, as with all things, it must evolve.
Children grow up and we grow old. It is the way of things.”

He nodded, his face pressed into
her shoulder.  “I realize that,” he murmured, pulling his face from her flesh.
“But Witney….”

A knock at the door interrupted
him and Aubrielle rose to answer.  A beautiful young lady with flowing blond
hair and ice blue eyes was standing there, dressed in a pink satin surcoat with
flowers woven her hair. She looked like an angel.  Aubrielle smiled at her daughter.

“He is coming, sweetheart,” she
assured her. “We will be down in a moment.

Witney Grace St. Héver put a hand
on her mother’s arm.  She glanced at her father, knowing his trouble.  She
known for years what would happen on this day and she was prepared. At least,
she hoped she was. Her father was a rather hard case.

“Please let me speak with him,”
she said, moving into the room. “Will you please wait for me downstairs?”

Aubrielle sighed faintly, kissing
her daughter’s cheek and closing the door softly behind her.  Witney went over
to her father, gazing down into his ice blue eyes. They were her eyes.  She
smiled timidly.

“Everyone is waiting for us,” she
told him. “Bren and Evan have already eaten half the food set out and they are
eyeing the wine. You had better come and stop them before they ruin
everything.”

Kenneth shook his head. “Your
brothers are in for enough trouble when their mother discovers what they’ve
done,” he said, his expression softening as he gazed up into Witney’s beautiful
face.  “And you, sweetheart? How are you feeling?”

She smiled at her father and sat
down beside him, taking his hand. “Excited,” she said. “And sad. I do not want
to leave you and Mama, but I am very excited to become Rhys’ wife. Do not you
like him, Dada?”

He held her hand tightly, looking
at her little hand folded within his massive one and realizing he was close to
tears. He felt like a fool. Witney sensed his turmoil and she kissed him on the
temple.

“I love you, Dada,” she said
softly. “That will never change. You will always be my hero, the man I am most
proud of. But I want my own family now, a husband and children. Even though I
will become Rhys’ wife, I will always be your little girl. I promise.”

Tears filled Kenneth’s eyes. He
couldn’t even look at his daughter, knowing she was slipping away and there was
nothing he could do to stop it.  It was a joyful moment but a painful one.  He
kissed her hand, his tears falling on her flesh.

“I remember when you were born,”
he murmured, wiping at his eyes. “It was a snowy night, very dark and cold.
Your mother was overdue to deliver you and when she finally felt the pains, you
came so quickly that we did not even have time to summon the physic. The next
thing I realized, I was pulling a little pink infant from her body… and she
screamed like a banshee.”

Witney grinned, gently squeezing
his hand. “Mama said you fainted.”

Kenneth gave her his best glare.
“I did not,” he insisted. “I simply had to sit down because I was so startled.
Never did I lose consciousness.”

“Mama says they had to pick you
up off the floor.”

“I shall beat her severely for
telling such lies.”

Witney continued to giggle at him
and he put his big arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him.
He kissed her forehead, trying not to mash the white flowers
in her hair.

“Yours is the first face I
remember,” Witney said after a moment. “I have a memory of you feeding me
cheese. Do you recall?”

Kenneth nodded. “Indeed I do. You
were not quite two years old and all you would eat was cheese. Bren would feed
you, Evan would feed you, and I would feed you. You looked like a baby bird as
we popped pieces of cheese into your mouth.”

Witney smiled at the memory. “I
love my brothers,” she said. “They are good older brothers, don’t you think?”

“The best.”

Witney pulled away to look at
him. “And I love you, too. Thank you for taking care of me, and for feeding me
cheese, and for your kindness and wisdom that I shall remember as I raise my
own children.”

Kenneth’s good humor faded as he
gazed into her eyes. He had done his job; she was wise, responsible, cultured
and poised. Now it was time for her to grow up, as Aubrielle had said.  There
was nothing more he could say to her.  Gently cupping his daughter’s face in
his two enormous hands, he kissed her softly on each cheek.

“I suppose it is time, then.”

She nodded, smiling bravely and
trying not to weep. “It is,” she whispered. “Please, Dada. You have to let me
go.”

Kenneth knew that. He nodded his
head, once, and let go of her face, standing up and helping her to rise from
the bed. He continued to hold her hand as she smoothed out her dress.  He still
saw a little girl before him and could hardly move past it.  But he knew he had
to.

“What do you suppose we should do
if we go downstairs to discover that Bren and Evan have made a mess of mother’s
reception?” she asked, simply to lighten the mood.

Kenneth wriggled his eyebrows.
“Get out of the way. Your mother will be bent on vengeance.”

Witney giggled, pausing as
Kenneth opened the door for her.  She gazed into his eyes, her smile fading as
her expression conveyed thousands of words her lips could not seem to bring
forth. She had her father’s strength, his ability to control her emotions, but
at the moment, she was having as difficult a time as he was. 

“Thank you, Dada,” she murmured
sincerely. “For everything; thank you.”

Kenneth could feel the tears
again but he fought them. “No prouder father has ever walked this earth,
sweetheart,” he whispered. “You are a beautiful bride.”

Her bright smile returned and she
turned for the stairs.

“One more thing,” she said as she
began to take the steps. “In six months when you are feeling particularly
lonely and missing me, you cannot come to Rhys’ home and demand to have me
returned.”

Kenneth lifted an eyebrow.
“Perhaps not,” he replied, holding her dress up so she wouldn’t trip on it.
“But rest assured I shall visit often to see how he is treating you.”

She shook her head. “No, Dada,”
she said firmly. “Leave us alone for awhile. I would like to get to know my
husband without my terrifying father showing up at every turn.”

“Once a month?”

“No!”

“Once a week?”

“
No!
”

“Can I at least come to visit
when my grandchildren are born?”

She turned to grin at him as they
came to the bottom of the stairs. “If you do not, I shall be very angry with you.”

 Kenneth was present when all
four of his grandchildren were born, the last one claiming Witney’s life in
childbirth.

They named the baby girl Witney.

ABOUT
THE AUTHOR

Kathryn Le Veque has always been
a writer.  From her first ‘book’ at the age of 13, Kathryn has been writing
prolifically.  A strong interest in history and adventure has added to her
stories, most of which take place in the Plantagenet period of England.  She
also writes contemporary romance and adventure, as evidenced in the Kathlyn
Trent/Marcus Burton Adventure/Romance Series.

All of the facts used in this
book are true; the Rig Veda exists as does the other things Aubrielle learned
while at St. Wenburgh. She truly was well before her time when the extent of
women’s learning was things like languages, needlepoint and music.  They
weren’t expected to know anything (really) useful.  Ah, Medieval Women’s
Rights! And God bless Kenneth for putting up with her unconventional ways - he
is a good man.

When Kathryn isn’t writing, she
is volunteering her time with the local high school as the booster president,
gardening, golfing, or watching old black and white movies.  Her daughter,
currently in college, is following in her mother’s footsteps with a love of
creative writing and Medieval History.

Visit Kathryn’s website at
www.kathrynleveque.com
for more novels and ordering
information.