The Knight and the Dove (19 page)

“Are you hoping to buy?” This came from Elias, and Megan could hear the amusement in his tone.

“I ain’t got no coin,” she snorted.

“Where are you headed?” another man questioned.

“The abbey at Stone Lake, you nosy scoundrel. Can’t a lady have no privacy?” Megan gave a loud cackle at her own joke, and the men joined in
.

“We’re not going as far as Stone Lake, but we’re going to The Crossings. Come,” Elias spoke, “ride awhile.”

Megan scowled at them. Her feet did hurt.

“I don’t care to be badgered with talk for miles,” she growled at them, but she was already moving in a painful gait to the wagon. Most of the men made no effort to hide their amusement, but Megan only limped her way to the back and allowed one of them to take her upper arm and help her aboard.

“Well, you’re not starved, are ya?” he said, and Megan pulled her arm away.

“Don’t be givin’ me none o’ your cheek. I’ll take myself right back down, and you’ll be a missin’ the pleasure o’ my company.”

This brought a round of laughter from the men, but the horse was prodded into motion and they proceeded down the road. Megan told herself to say alert, but it wasn’t possible. The ride was hot, dusty, and bumpy, and after very little sleep the night before, she couldn’t stay awake. Within the hour her head was draped over a bag of rags while sleep wandered in and out.

They didn’t make The Crossings by nightfall, but that was just as well for Megan. She had never intended to go that far. The Crossings was on the way to Stone Lake, but it was faster to go through the woods in order to gain the abbey.

The peddlers had paid her little heed throughout the journey but when they camped that night, she was made welcome at their fire and to their food. No one was the wiser as to her identity until Megan shuffled off into the woods for privacy. Elias, whose hearing was as keen as that of a fox, heard her shuffling gait turn to easy steps when she found the darkness of the trees.

He waited until she returned and they both had food before he approached. It was the first time he had come close to her. His suspicions were confirmed immediately, but that didn’t stop the amazement at his findings.

Megan didn’t really mind his sitting near her but simply turned her face into the shadows, the hood still hiding her face, and tried to chew with her back teeth only

“I must say, my lady,” Elias began, his voice almost too soft to hear. “You’re one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

Megan froze and then turned to look at him.

“How did you know?” The accent was gone; her voice was hushed.

“Your walk in the woods alerted me, and then if may say so, my lady, there is no disguising the smell of your hair.”

Megan transferred her gaze to the woods, and Elias stared at her profile. It was incredible. He couldn’t see it now, but he remembered the gray cast to her skin when she’d come from the woods. That, along with the rotted teeth, rat’s nest hair and hump on her back, caused
Elias not to give her a second thought, but now, since he knew how she normally looked, this transformation was astonishing to the man.

“Do the others know?” Megan asked suddenly.

“I don’t think so.”

“And what,” Megan went on, her voice still hushed, “will you tell the riders who overtake you? Have you seen the red-haired maid, whose father is lord of Stone Lake Castle and whose betrothed lives within the wall of Hawkings Crest?”

“I have seen no such woman,” Elias told her as he transferred his gaze to the fire. “We gave an old humpback woman a ride, nothing more.”

He heard Megan’s sigh of relief and would have given up half his cart to know why she ran. But this was not his place. A peddler did not ask a lady, no matter how she was dressed, where she was going and why.

“Thank you, Elias,” Megan whispered just before one of the men joined them.

Megan turned away, thinking she would have liked to tell him that she hoped he would trade at Hawkings Crest often, but then she reminded herself that she would not be there and wondered over the sadness that filled her on such a thought.

The night was uneventful, and early in the morning Megan thanked the men, made them laugh, and parted from the group. She had a friend in the forest who took her the rest of the way on horseback, and she was at the abbey just hours later.

The food on Bracken’s trencher was a delight to the senses, but he gave little notice. His eyes were on the staircase as he anticipated Megan’s arrival with every breath, but she did not appear. It had been 48 hours since their quarrel, and he had not seen her once. He felt this pouting was ridiculous, but he was not going to search her out and say so. It was apparent to him that Megan needed to do a little growing up, and he refused to coddle her in this situation.

“Will you go to her, Bracken?”

“No.” He turned then to look at his aunt. He picked up a piece of meat and chewed silently.

“What if she really isn’t feeling well?”

Bracken snorted. “Is that what she is telling you?”

“Well, Helga is.”

Bracken stared at her. “You mean you haven’t seen Megan?”

“No,” Louisa admitted. “Helga’s been taking her food, and when I’ve gone to the door she says that Megan has asked not to be disturbed.”

Bracken shook his head in disgust. It was worse than he feared. This was not brooding, but an out-and-out sulk, and Bracken could think of nothing more aggravating. She was clearly taking her childish tantrum out on the whole castle.

Bracken suddenly dug into his food. Watching him, Louisa knew the reason. She would have put money on the fact that he was going to confront Megan as soon as he’d had his fill.

Not five minutes after Bracken was done with the meal, he nodded to the family members at the table and made for the stairs. Helga, sitting inside Megan’s bedchamber and trying not to be nervous, jumped at his knock.

“Lord Bracken,” she said respectfully, opening the door just enough to peek out.

“I wish to see Lady Megan,” Bracken stated.

Helga nervously cleared her throat. It was one thing to tell Lady Louisa that Lady Megan was ill and wished to see no one, but Lord Bracken was another matter.

“Is there some problem?” Bracken’s voice was not loud or even overly stern, but Helga couldn’t take it.

“I’m sorry, my lord,” she cried. “I was just doing as I was told.”

It took a moment for Bracken to comprehend the full import of her words, and Helga scrambled away just in time as he reached to push the door open wide. Angry, disbelieving eyes took in the perfectly made-up bed, the wall hangings, and the cold fireplace. All was intact, telling him Megan had traveled light. The room felt as lifeless as a tomb.

Bracken turned to Helga then, who was white-faced with fright, and he saw in an instant that he could not place Megan’s foolhardiness on this servant. As she said, she was doing as commanded. Bracken
came to this resolve in a split second and now spoke like a calm warrior going into battle.

“How long has she been gone?”

“Two days, my lord.”

Bracken nodded, looking preoccupied.

“The morning after we quarreled no doubt.” The words were said more to himself than anyone, but Helga answered anyhow.

“No, my lord. She left right away.”

Bracken frowned. “You mean that very night?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“She’s been gone 48 hours then.” Bracken was utterly aghast, and fearful for the first time.

“Yes, my lord,” Helga said unnecessarily.

“Did she say where she was headed?”

“No, my lord, I swear, she didn’t say.”

Bracken stayed within the chamber only a moment more before turning and striding out the door and down the main stairs. He was not a man to lose his head, but he was halfway to the stables before he realized it was much too dark to search that night.

“What is it, Bracken?” Brice had followed him without.

Bracken sighed. “Megan has left.”

“The castle?”

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, and it’s too dark to search tonight.”

“You mean she’s left no word of her whereabouts?” Brice was feeling more amazed and frightened by the second.

“No, but I’m certain she headed home. I don’t think she ever wanted to leave there—she implied as much—so I’m sure she’s made for Stone Lake.”

“I’ll go with you, Bracken.” This came from Louisa, who had just joined the men.

“You knew she was gone?” Bracken frowned.

“No, but when you gained the great hall in such a hurry I went to Helga myself. I take it we leave in the morning?”

“That is my plan, Aunt Lou, but I must have you remain here.”

“But Bracken,” the older woman’s face was distressed, “when you return she will need an escort.”

Bracken couldn’t stop his snort of disgust. “She has no doubt traveled all the way to Stone Lake without a single thought for propriety; an escort won’t matter now.”

Bracken finally looked at Louisa in the gathering dusk. Her hurt face reminded him of his tone. With hands gently on her upper arms, he spoke again.

“In truth, Aunt Lou, we will be riding hard. I would like you to come along, but I do not wish to put you through that.”

“But you will bring her back?”

“Have no doubt of it. Megan has not resigned herself to this marriage, but King Henry ordered it and her father did the choosing. Megan is mine, and I will return her to Hawkings Crest.”

Nearly an hour later Bracken stood in the war room waiting for his knights to arrive. He had hardly moved from his place by the fire, his thoughts deep on the mistakes he’d made as well as the anger he felt that Megan would pull such a senseless escapade.

If she were in the room at that moment he would be strongly tempted to upend her over his knee. The sight of her, hair ablaze and eyes flashing, standing in that very room while she confronted him over Black Francesca suddenly swam before his mind’s eye. What would a group of men do if they found a maid so lovely alone in the forest? Bracken’s heart clenched at the thought, even as anger told him she should have known better.

The door opened suddenly, and Bracken turned. It was Stephen and he was alone. He spoke as he came forward, his look serious but his tone light.