The Knight and the Dove (21 page)

Vincent put his hand up. “I’m sure she is there.”

Bracken sat back down, as did the others. His voice belied the way his heart still raced.

“She’s been gone from Hawkings Crest for three days. How can you be sure of her whereabouts?”

“Because I know Megan. If you’ve quarreled, then she will seek the solace of the abbey.”

Vincent frowned at Bracken’s confused face. “Have you forgotten so soon, Bracken, that Megan and her mother do not get on?”

Bracken’s face cleared, but his voice was somewhat harsh. “No, sir, I had not forgotten. Megan does not seem to get on with most people.” It was an unfair statement and both knew it, but the older man did not comment.

It was still something that Bracken did not understand. Why would anyone choose to be away from home? Why not live in harmony with others? Was it really so difficult? Bracken felt that this was clearly one more example of Megan’s desperate need to grow up.

“I’ll send a servant to the abbey now who can report as to whether or not Megan is there. Sup with us now, and you and your men can go to the abbey in the morning.”

Bracken looked hesitant.

“I feel it is best, Bracken,” Vincent told him, his tone not dictatorial but confident and kind.

“All right,” Bracken agreed after a moment. “If we learn that she is safely there, we’ll wait.”

He’d been so certain that he would see her that very night that his disappointment was keen. Thankfully, Vincent didn’t give him long to think about it. Posthaste he dispatched a servant to the abbey and moments later the men were shown to chambers in order to wash and join the castle folk for dinner.

“Your father sent a messenger, Megan,” the Reverend Mother said to the small redhead after supper.

“He has heard of my presence then. I’m to leave?”

“No. He only sought information as to your whereabouts. He told Sister Agatha that your betrothed is at the castle.”

Megan nodded but did not speak.

“I’m sure Lord Bracken will be here in the morning, Meg.”

Megan’s face turned to panic. “Oh, please don’t make me see him, please, Reverend Mother. Please tell him I’ve left.”

“You know I would never lie for you, Meg.” The older woman’s voice was stern, and Megan felt shamed because she had asked Helga to do just that.

Her shame didn’t last, however. With a note of desperation she said, “Then I’ll really leave here. I can go and live with Japheth and Elvina in the forest. She’s to have her baby soon and I know they would welcome me.”

“What has frightened you, Megan?” the abbess spoke with compassion. “Is it Lord Bracken himself or something else altogether?”

The panic left Megan, and she looked utterly defeated. “I do not know.” Her voice was hushed. “Everything began so badly between us, and lately I am not in control of my anger. It’s all my mother’s fault for sending me on as she did.”

“We heard all about it, Meg, and indeed her actions have been wrong, but you must forgive her. You’ll never know true peace within yourself or with Lord Bracken unless you do.”

The evening was not far spent, and so they talked on for some time,
but Megan did not deal with her heart as she should have. She was too busy worrying about the morrow’s confrontation.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Annora.”

“We’re pleased to have you,” Megan’s beautiful mother returned, smiling. “How is Megan?”

Bracken flicked a glance at Vincent, who cleared his throat before speaking.

“Megan is at the abbey. Bracken has come thinking she might be here.”

It took only a moment for the full meaning to sink in and Annora’s face to flush with temper.

“She has run from Hawkings Crest?”

“Yes,” Vincent admitted.

Annora threw her hands in the air, unmindful of the way Vincent, Bracken, and all Bracken’s men looked on.

“When will that spoiled child ever mature? I tell you, Vincent, she has no care for anyone outside of herself. If she were here right now, I’d slap some sense into her.”

The tirade continued for a few moments longer, with Vincent looking uncomfortable and Annora not noticing anyone as she carried on.

Bracken was only half listening. He had not been able to get beyond Annora’s statement that Megan thought of no one but herself. He had shared the very same thought, but it now struck him strongly that it simply wasn’t so. She was foolhardy, but nearly everyone at Hawkings Crest had commented at one time or another about the little caring acts she did for others.

“Annora,” Vincent spoke and finally got through. “I am hungry, as I’m sure are our guests.”

Annora looked affronted at his words, but after tossing her head in the air she invited Bracken and the other men to come to the tables. The meal of quail was excellent and plentiful, and when Annora calmed down, she proved to be a gracious hostess. Bracken studied her from across the table and wondered how Megan could be so different in appearance and temperament.

Even when Megan was most upset, she did not rant as this woman had done.

He was still pondering this when he heard Megan’s voice behind him. His heart vaulted in his chest as his head snapped back to find her, but instead he encountered a younger version of Annora. He knew in an instant that this was Marigold. He saw that she’d grown older since that day at court, but it was her nonetheless.

“I’m sorry to be so late,” Marigold spoke humbly, soaking in the hungry, male eyes that stared at her. “I was sewing by the fire, and the time just got away from me,” Marigold, who hated needlework of any kind, lied sweetly and stood still to let each man look his fill.

Vincent, who was not taken in in the slightest, opened his mouth to tell Marigold that she would have to find room at another table, but Annora jumped in.

“No matter, Marigold. Whenever you grace our hall with your beauty, we will gladly welcome you. Come, sit by me.”

She too had seen the desirous looks in the men’s eyes and felt more than pleased. Not because any of them could have her, but because Annora simply loved having what she considered the most beautiful daughter in all of England.

Vincent was nowhere near as happy to see her. He knew Marigold was home, but she rarely joined them for any meal. Vincent knew that a servant must have told her of the men’s presence. Marigold seemed to grow more devious with each passing day, and her presence shamed him. It seemed he could exert no control whatsoever where she was concerned.

The only pleasure Vincent derived from the whole evening was the way Bracken looked at Marigold. The other men at the table were making near fools of themselves, but Bracken’s gaze was hooded and cool. It did Vincent’s heart good to see it, and it helped remind him to tell Bracken privately not to bring Megan back to the castle with both Marigold and Annora there. He felt it best that Megan be taken directly back to Hawkings Crest.

Fifteen

B
RACKEN HAD BEEN WAITING
for over an hour to see Megan when William entered the sunny courtyard of the abbey. He paid the man little heed as he thought about the morning. As anxious as he was to get away, Lord Vincent had been equally anxious to detain him.

He’d toured Bracken and the men around the Stone Lake castle much like a child showing off a toy. And then there had been the journey to the abbey. Bracken saw now that they had come way out of their way by going to the castle first. Megan certainly would have known this and gained the abbey in less time because of it. Still, this did not answer his question of how she had traveled. That, along with a dozen more queries, convinced him that he’d be talking to Megan for the next two days.

Of course, their talk would probably have to wait. If he knew his betrothed like he thought he did, he would have to command her to leave the abbey and it would be days before she would speak to him about anything.

Bracken mentally shook his head as he pictured himself tossing her over his shoulder, mounting his horse, and riding away with her kicking and screaming all the while. Vincent had sent a mount for her, but Bracken knew this was no guarantee that Megan would use it. As comical as the scene would be to his men, Bracken was serious. If he had to take Megan on his own horse to get her home, he would do it.

“What is it, William? Why have you come?” Bracken heard the sister called Agatha say.

“I must see her, Sister Agatha. Where is Megan?”

Suddenly Bracken was all ears.

“She cannot see you, William.” Sister Agatha’s voice was compassionate but firm.

“But I must,” the young man’s voice pleaded desperately. “I just know that if I could see her one more time I could convince her that it’s me she needs to marry.”

Bracken was like a statue, sitting on a stone bench in the shadows outside the Reverend Mother’s office. He watched the earnest face of the younger man and felt something stir within him. How did Megan feel?

“William,” Sister Agatha went on gently. “What of Rose?”

“I care for Rose,” William told her, “but it’s Megan whom I love.”

“She is not for you, William. Give your heart to Rose. I have known Rose since she was but a child. She is the woman for you, William.”

The younger man’s shoulders slumped with defeat. He knew her words were true. He was thankful that it had been Sister Agatha who had confronted him. He’d known her all his life, and she was always the soul of kindness. He could never feel shame with her.