Dream of Me/Believe in Me (91 page)

“Of course we will,” her little sister agreed. “Besides, there's no reason for you to be worried. Mother says the Lord Hawk is so far gone in love with you that you could serve him brine for supper for a month before he'd notice.”

“Edythe!” Aelfgyth looked aghast at such candor even as she struggled not to smile. “I'm sorry, my lady. This one has yet to learn how to curb her tongue.”

“I don't see why I shouldn't say that,” Edythe protested. “Everyone knows it's true. Why, just this morning heard the baker's wife say that if she'd ever seen a man better satisfied than his lordship, he lacked strength to walk. I'm not sure what she meant exactly but—”

“That is quite enough of that,” Aelfgyth said. She was trying her hardest to look stern but could not avoid a hint of a smile.

For her part, Krysta's cheeks were very warm, yet she was glad that Hawk's people knew he was happy. In the sum total of all things, that mattered a great deal more than whatever problems she might have assuming her new duties.

They feasted that night in the hall of the Lord Hawk and spilled out well beyond the hall, down into the town through every lane, in every house, and even to the ships docked in harbor or riding at anchor just beyond. Torches gleamed like a sea of stars reflected in the water and in the tendrils of mist that rose from it with the cooling of the day. Long after the hour when all sensible men and women should have been abed, the revelry continued. Hawkforte resounded with song and laughter, the beat of drums and the high, haunting music of pipes. Dancers swirled in the torchlight, children ran about giddy with excitement until they subsided beneath gently sheltering trees and slept as fairy children do with music in their
dreams. Barrel after barrel of mead and ale was cracked open to hearty cheers. Food there was in abundance, greater even than at the harvest feast. When the full moon rose over the beach below Hawkforte, men went down to the strand with their seines, tossed them out into the silvery water, and pulled them back filled with the bounty of mackerel that were roasted on spits over open fires.

Late in the night, perched on a stone wall overlooking the beach, Krysta licked bits of honey cake from her fingers and leaned her head against Hawk's strong shoulder. “Did you ever wonder when the priests speak of heaven if they mean a place like this?”

“Some say hell can be found on earth and I have been places where I believe that is true. It seems only fair that heaven should also be glimpsed.”

He tightened his arm around her as the thought pierced him that he would be content and more to go through eternity gazing out at the moon-garbed sea so long as she was at his side. But his fey pixie had other ideas. Laughing, she fed him bits of cake until all were gone, then bestowed upon him lingering, honeyed kisses of sweet ardor that ran hot in his veins.

Which is how it came to pass that the Lord of Hawkforte made love to his bride on the sand beneath the high walls of his fortress, finding for them a secluded spot deep in the shadows where they lingered until gentle darkness yielded to a new morning. A few valiant stars still shone when they finally made their way back inside, laughing like guilty children and stepping over the bodies of exhausted revelers who slumbered where they had fallen.

A visitor to Hawkforte that day might have thought it a strangely enchanted place whose inhabitants had been put to sleep by a charm. Scarcely anyone stirred in the town. Yet did the guard still keep watch, stern men uncomplaining in their duty. They were not alone. After
seeing Krysta to bed and satisfying himself that she would stay there, Hawk joined them. It was good to be among his men, receiving their silent nods and exchanging a few words with his lieutenants. The crisp breeze from the sea banished the wisps of sleep and made him feel rejuvenated. He walked the walls, looking out over his domain, and felt within himself the fierce will to protect what was his rising stronger even than ever before. Yet he kept his gaze steadfastly outward, with no thought for the possibility that the danger was already within.

D
ID YOU NOTICE THE MOON LAST NIGHT?
Aelfgyth asked. They were in the weaving shed, counting the lengths of cloth that would be made into winter garments for the servants. The air was filled with little tufts of flax and wool that made them sneeze.

“This place needs to be aired out,” Krysta said. She looked around critically at the narrow windows covered with wooden shutters that appeared nailed closed. “And how can anyone work in so little light?”

“The Lady Daria believed too much light and air was distracting for the weavers. She thought it would cause them to shirk their duties.”

Krysta's eyebrows shot up but she said nothing. There were too many opportunities to confront what Daria had thought and what she had imposed on people. To yield once to that temptation would be to bring on a deluge. Instead, she kept her views to herself and said, “Tell the carpenters to take off these shutters and expand the windows. Also, when the weather is fair the women should be weaving outside.”

“They will be pleased to hear that. In truth, there has been trouble getting enough women to weave because the conditions were so poor.”

Krysta understood that Aelfgyth had this from Edvard. Already the two were working together as a pair and their wedding still a fortnight off. It pleased her greatly to see that.

“I did see the moon,” Krysta went on. She smiled to herself as she remembered the circumstances. If there was a sight more beautiful than her husband's powerful, sculpted body bathed in moonlight, she did not know it. Truly, they should make a habit of visiting the beach together. Was it really only a little more than a month since they had first made love, and then, too, by the water's edge? A lifetime seemed to have passed, yet when Krysta considered, she realized it was scarcely two months since she had first come to Hawkforte. So much had happened since then that she was not surprised it seemed longer. The moon had been full when she came, full again when she first lay in Hawk's arms, and shone full once more with her now his wife. Three courses of the moon marking the ancient rhythms of time …

Marking, too, the rhythms of her body.

So much had happened yet one thing had not. Krysta had not bled since shortly after coming to Hawkforte.

A shock went through her. She paused in the midst of counting cloth and thought deeply. With all the tumult of events, she could not fault herself for failing to notice, yet was she startled nonetheless. Her courses had always been so regular. But mayhap it was not odd after all for there had been such tumult. If only she knew more about these things, had someone she could talk with about such matters.

She thought of Aelfgyth for a moment but decided not. Perhaps women were accustomed to discussing such
things among themselves but she had never had such a luxury. Besides, nature would likely correct the oversight soon enough. It was not as though she was …

She could not be,
could she?
Swiftly she counted and almost laughed at herself. She would have had to conceive when she and Hawk first lay together. Even she, ignorant though she was, knew the unlikelihood of that.

Unlikely but not impossible. There was a chance, however slim. She really could be …

“My lady, is something wrong?”

Krysta looked up, startled to find Aelfgyth studying her with concern. Swiftly, she said, “No, nothing at all. Everything is fine. Shall we go on to the dairy? I'd like to take a look at the cheese stores.”

In truth, she had no interest at all in cheese or anything else just then save for the incredible, amazing possibility that had occurred to her. Could it truly be that she was with child? The very idea made her want to hug herself, jump up and down for joy, seek out Hawk, smother him with kisses, tease him about his impending fatherhood, and do all manner of other silly, wonderful things. But she restrained herself, for the idea was still so new and fragile that she feared her joy would vanish if examined too closely. Yet she was a happy woman as she lingered in the aging room beside the dairy, smiling broadly over each fragrant golden round until Aelfgyth could hardly be faulted for believing that her mistress was extraordinarily fond of cheese.

Krysta's good humor lasted past midday and no doubt could have gone on long after that had she not encountered Daria. Her sister-in-law was emerging from the chapel when their paths crossed. Aelfgyth had gone off to help her mother sew her bridal gown and Krysta was alone. She stiffened at the sight of Daria but the older woman merely blinked at her, as though her eyes were
having difficulty adjusting to the brilliance of the day. She appeared disinclined to speak, but Krysta, cherishing her tentative hope and mindful of all her blessings, did not think it right to let her husband's half-sister pass without the courtesy of speech.

“Good day, my lady. I trust you are well?”

Daria blinked again and for a moment it seemed she would not respond, but suddenly her face transformed and she smiled with what could almost be thought of as warmth. So unexpected was that, and so oddly unnerving, that Krysta had no notion what to make of it. She had little chance to ponder the matter, for Daria said swiftly, “Oh, I am very well, my dear. Indeed, I cannot remember the last time I felt so at peace and unburdened. But I will confess to just a little worry. I do hope the responsibility of Hawkforte will not weigh too heavily on your young shoulders. If I can do anything to help, anything at all, you will tell me, won't you? For such time as I am still here, I would be happy to assist you however I can.”

So great was this seeming transformation, so unexpected this generosity, that Krysta was at a loss as to how to respond. Finally, she said, “Thank you … I appreciate this greatly. But forgive me, what do you mean ‘while you are still here’?”

Daria smiled again and dropped her voice a notch, confidingly. “I haven't spoken to Hawk about this yet but it is in my mind to seek the joyful serenity of holy vows. Long have I felt drawn to the cloister but I could not leave off my duties here. Now that you and Hawk are wed, it is finally possible for me to follow my heart.”

She sounded so sincere that Krysta did not think to doubt her. Here then must be the explanation for Daria's sour temperament—a thwarted calling to the convent. How sad that she had postponed her yearning for so long, but how fortunate that she could leave Hawkforte happily.

And what a change that knowledge had brought to her. Why, she was being positively pleasant.

“It is most kind of you to offer your help,” Krysta said.

“Oh, it is the least I can do. After all, Hawk gave me a home here all these years since my poor husband's unfortunate demise. Perhaps before I leave, I could show you around myself, point out one or two things that might be of interest to you?”

Although Krysta thought she had already been shown around Hawkforte more than amply, first by Edvard and most recently by Aelfgyth, she would not be so discourteous as to say that. Instead, she said, “I would be happy to go with you. Only say when.”

“Soon,” Daria said and smiled. “But one thing, dear, if you wouldn't mind, pray say nothing to anyone of my plans. I fear Hawk would hear of it and think I was absenting myself for the wrong reasons. He might feel badly over that and all for no cause. Before I speak with him, I would prefer to have everything arranged.”

“Of course I will say nothing, but I do not think you need make haste.”

“That is kind of you but I confess to a certain sense of urgency.” Daria's smile deepened. Her eyes were very bright. “I have already waited so long.”

Krysta was about to suggest they look around the manor the following morning when she heard a sudden shout from the watchtowers. She bade Daria excuse her and scrambled up the stone steps to the top of the wall. There she peered out toward the sea. Her startled gaze beheld no fewer than three dragon-prowed vessels entering the harbor. Two appeared so heavily laden she thought they must be merchant ships. The other was unmistakably a vessel of war, but the sight of it did not trouble her for she recognized the insignia emblazoned on the sail.

A soft laugh broke from her as she considered how very pleased the redhead would be.

D
RAGON SWUNG ONTO THE PIER, CLASPED HANDS
with Hawk, who awaited him there, and gestured to the fat merchant ships he had brought with him. With a broad grin, he said, “Sven had a change of heart.”

Hawk nodded slowly, surveying the vessels. One he would have expected, but two? “I didn't realize Sven was such a generous fellow. To think I sent him from here with nothing but a set of chains.”

“Wolf liked that touch.”

“What did he do with him?” Hawk asked with mild curiosity as they began walking up the pier.

“Banishment. Which freed up all his property, by the way. His two charming sisters are being married to men who will know how to manage Sven's former lands. Sven himself was last seen moping off in the direction of Jerusalem, complaining every step of the way. No doubt he'll give the Deity an earful. I bring you his coin, plate, furs, and the like as dowry for the charming Lady Krysta, whom I hope you have had the good sense to wed by now.”