Fragments of Grace (Prequel to the Dragonblade Trilogy) (42 page)

Keir cooled somewhat, knowing that what the woman
said was more than likely true.  He sighed heavily after a moment, with some
regret, before moving in the direction of the bed.  Blanche reached out to stop
him.

“Where are you going?” she asked softly.

“To speak with Chloë about it,” he replied.

Blanched shook her head. “She does not remember any
of it,” she whispered. “She does not remember the missive or agreeing to Ingilby’s
terms. She does not even remember the part about the boy. I have not mentioned
anything to her for fear of upsetting her.  We have not yet heard from Ingilby,
so I see no need to upset her until we absolutely must.”

Keir stared at her a moment before sighing again,
this time with great emotion. He ran his hand across his cropped hair, pensive
and agitated. After several moments of indecisiveness, he looked at Blanche.

“I will marry her before I leave Aysgarth,” he
murmured. “Ingilby be damned.”

Blanche’s dark eyes were intense. “But what of your
son?”

Keir shook his head. “Ingilbsy does not have my
son,” he replied firmly. “I would stake my life on it. He is simply trying to
gain Chloë by other means, another in a long list of tricks he has used to try
and obtain her for his own.”

Blanche watched his face, his expression, to see
just how serious he was about his statement, but he seemed resolute.

“What if you are wrong?” she wanted to know. “What
if he really does have your boy and the child suffers because of your decision?
How do you think that will affect your relationship with my daughter? You will
grow to hate her.”

Keir looked at her as if startled by the statement.
“How can you think that?” he hissed. “I would never hate Chloë for a decision I
made. Furthermore, I could never hate her under any circumstances. Have I not
proved that my love for your daughter transcends all else?  She is all to me,
Lady Blanche. I am not sure how much clearer I can make that.”

Blanche backed off, but it was hesitantly done. She
didn’t want to see Keir make a rash decision that Chloë would suffer for in the
end.  For a man who had been searching for his lost son for three years, to
deny the possibility that the child was finally found alive did not seem
logical. But, then again, men in love were not logical creatures.

“We have already extended an offer to Ingilby,” she
finally muttered. “What would you have me do?”

Keir’s features hardened. “I will marry Chloë
immediately and you will send a missive to Ingilbsy rescinding your offer. Have
a marriage contract written up, witnessed and signed, and we shall be done with
this madness once and for all.”

Blanche nodded, quitting the room without another
word.  Keir watched her go, as did Kurtis, before the brothers turned to each
other.

Kurtis lifted his eyebrows at him. “What do you want
me to do, Keir?”

Keir began to unlatch the armor that had been a part
of his body for nearly two weeks. “As I said before,” he repeated. “Summon a
priest. Tell him he is to perform a marriage mass.”

Kurtis nodded and quit the room, taking Garran with
him, as Keir began to wearily remove his armor.  Summer was still next to the
bed, speaking softly with Chloë, and a glance over his shoulder showed that
Michael was standing in the shadows of the room, watching Summer as she
interacted with Chloë. 

Keir didn’t care if Michael remained, mostly because
he knew he couldn’t remove him, anyway, so long as Lady Summer remained. 
Michael was on the woman’s scent and there would be no dissuading him.

When all of the armor came off, the hauberk and mail
coat ended up on a heap in the corner, Keir lugged his weary, dirty body over
to the bed where Chloë lay with her knees propped up to take the pressure off
her back.  He was more exhausted with every step he took.  As the women chatted
quietly and Michael hovered in the shadows, Keir threw his dirty, beaten body
onto the bed next to Chloë. 

Chloë yelped, startled when his significant weight
jostled her, looking over to see that the man was on his belly, his face buried
in the mattress next to her head.  He was absolutely filthy and smelled
strongly of dirt and body odor, but it really didn’t matter. He was alive and
breathing, healthy and whole as when he had left her, and Chloë was content. 
She reached out to touch his dirty, sweaty head in a sweet and comforting
gesture, feeling the satisfaction of finally having him with her again.

However, it was fairly bold for the man to lie down
next to her, considering they were not married.  She hoped that Lady Summer
didn’t think too poorly of them, but on the other hand, she didn’t much care.
They were married body, heart and soul if not by law. Yet that too would soon
be rectified.

As Chloë leaned over to ask Keir if he wanted a
pillow for his head, he suddenly let out a great snore that set both her and
Summer to giggling. The man had fallen instantly, and deeply asleep, and Chloë
merely looked at Summer and shrugged.

“Poor dear,” she whispered. “He has had a trying
day.”

Summer smiled, shaking her head as she looked at
Keir. “He will sleep for days now that his mind has been eased on your
condition.” She looked back to Chloë. “Are you comfortable, my lady?”

Chloë nodded. “My back feels much better with the
pillows under my legs,” she said. “I am so glad you came. You have eased all of
our minds considerably.”

Summer’s smile brightened. “I am glad to help,” she
murmured. “And now that you are tended, I think that I would like to eat and
perhaps sleep just as Sir Keir is doing.”

It was Michael’s cue to move. He had been waiting
for just this opportunity, a chance to speak with Summer again and to be of
service. From the shadows, he suddenly pushed himself off the wall and made his
way towards her.

“It would be my pleasure to escort you, my lady,” he
said.

Summer smiled up at the big knight. She was not
oblivious to the fact that he had been very solicitous towards her since nearly
the moment they met, but she wasn’t going to make an easy target for him. She
was intelligent and beautiful, and knew her worth. Although Michael was
exceedingly handsome and would inherit a barony, as he had boastfully told her,
she didn’t want to make herself seem too eager to fall at his feet.

“Dare I trust him, Lady Chloë?” she asked, her gaze
on Michael.  “He seems quite bold.”

Chloë giggled as Michael’s face fell. “He is
trustworthy,” she assured the woman. “I would tell you if he was not.”

Summer could see Michael’s expression brightening
again.  She reached out and slipped her hand into the crook of his right arm.

“Very well, Sir Michael,” she said. “I will permit
you to escort me.”

Thrilled, Michael escorted her from the chamber,
leaving Chloë alone with the exhausted and snoring Keir. 

When the chamber door shut softly and the room was
abruptly still, Chloë continued to stroke Keir’s head tenderly.  She had slept
so much over the past several days that she was no longer tired, content to
watch Keir sleep beside her and listening to his snoring as if it was the
sweetest music. 

It occurred to her as she gently stroked his head
that she might, in fact, be dreaming.  She’d had some very vivid dreams over
the past few days, so she wouldn’t have been surprised if she awoke to find the
bed next to her empty.

She wiled away the rest of the afternoon listening
to the reassuring snoring of Keir at her side.

CHAPTER TWENTY
SEVEN

Ingilby had never been to Aysgarth before. In fact,
he’d never even been near it. Although the castle wasn’t particularly far from
his own residence, it was set in an area not too well traveled and nesteled
within the lush forests and valleys of Yorkshire.

Ingilby had planned the trip carefully. The
culmination of two years of effort was within his grasp in the form of Chloë de
Geld and he wanted to make sure that nothing was left to chance. He had chosen
his escort carefully and brought along every weapon in his considerable
arsenal.  The man had come prepared.

The goddess was finally within his grasp.

The rain from the past several days had eased,
leaving a wet landscape and bright blue sky in its wake.  The roads were uneven
and mucky, more so as they neared the rocky terrain of Aysgarth. A gentle wind
blew in from the west as they approached the soaring-walled fortress. 

Aysgarth sat like the jewel of a crown amongst a
scattering of rocky peaks, beckoning with her great gray-stoned walls.  The
party from Ripon announced themselves to scouts who had been sent out from the
fortress.  Ingilby wasn’t shy about spreading his name, a name that Kurtis
received from of the sentries as he packed up his charger for his return to
Alnwick. That name sent him running for his brother.

Keir had been asleep all night and into the
morning.  Chloë, feeling better than she had in days, had risen with the help
of her sister as the two of them tried to be very quiet. They soon came to
realize that they could whisper in nearly normal speaking tones and Keir slept
right through it.  He was no longer snoring like an old bear, now flat on his
back and spread out all over the bed. He had practically pushed Chloë off at
several points during the night.

Keir’s breathing was deep and steady and, at one
point when Chloë and Cassandra were chatting as Cassandra helped her sister
bathe, he groggily pulled a pillow over his head to block out the noise they
were making. That set the women to giggling.

The hot water of the bath helped Chloë’s back tremendously.
Keir slept through the servants lugging the tub into the room, through the
water splashing, through Cassandra helping her sister scrape off weeks of dirt
and wash her abundant mane of hair.  The scent of lilacs filled the air from
the soaps and oils the women were using.  He slept through Chloë being dried
off, the tub being lugged out, and through the general commotion it created. 
Through it all, he slept.  But he did not sleep through his brother.

“Keir!” Kurtis burst into the chamber without
knocking.

Keir’s head shot up as both Chloë and Cassandra
startled. The women were perched in front of the hearth, using the heat to dry Chloë’s
hair. Cassandra dropped the comb in her hand and it bounced across the floor.

“Kurtis!” she yelped. “Are you mad to burst in here
like that?”

Kurtis didn’t even acknowledge his wife, going
straight to his brother instead. Keir was already sitting up, wiping his hands
over his face to shake off fifteen hours of sleep.

“Get up,” Kurtis snapped softly. “You must come with
me now.”

Keir rubbed the sleep from his eyes, although he was
alert. “What is the matter?”

Kurtis didn’t even look at the women. His expression
was intense. “Not here,” he hissed. “Get dressed and come with me.”

Keir almost questioned his brother again but thought
better of it. From the man’s expression, it was serious indeed. Kurtis was not
the excitable type but he was most certainly excited at this moment, and not in
a good way.   Keir stood up from the bed, looking around for his tunic.

“By the window,” Chloë said helpfully, suspecting
what he was looking for. “I had it washed for you.”

Keir smiled at her, appreciatively, as he moved to
the drying frame by the window that held his tunic.  Chloë watched him closely
as he pulled the dark blue linen over his head.

“Where are you going?” she asked, hoping Keir would
tell her what Kurtis would not.

He smoothed the tunic over his broad chest, looking
for his boots and struggling to shake off the grogginess.

“My brother has need of me,” he said evenly. “I will
not be gone long.”

“May I come?”

Keir looked at her. “How do you feel?”

She shrugged. “Better than I have in days,” she
said. “I am sure it has everything to do with your return.”

He smiled in response. “How is your back?”

“It hurts, but the warm bath helped.  May I at least
walk with you wherever you are going?”

Keir found his boots and sat on the edge of the bed
to pull them on. “Nay,” he said, pulling on the first boot. “You will remain
here and rest. I will return for you shortly and we shall go for a walk.”

Chloë didn’t argue but she did gaze at him with big,
sad eyes. “Promise?”

“Of course I do.” Keir yanked the other boot on and
stood up, moving to Chloë to kiss her swiftly on the lips. “You will stay right
here and rest for now.”

She nodded seriously. “Aye, Keir.”

He kissed her again, winking at her as he made his
way to the door. “That is my good girl.”

He followed Kurtis from the room and the door shut
behind them.  Out in the landing, Keir grabbed his brother’s arm as they moved
for the stairs.

“Now,” he hissed, “what is so important that you
would drag me from a dead sleep?”