The Knight and the Dove (31 page)

It was at such a time that Bracken spoke with Louisa concerning Megan’s dress. The older woman immediately approached Megan, who was a little shocked and very pleased that he had actually remembered. The women decided to leave for the village directly after the noon meal.

The day was warm but not miserable, and Arik, along with a few other men, went with the ladies. Protection was not really needed for the village, but the guard gave Bracken peace of mind as he stood in the inner bailey and watched them ride away.

The trip was fairly routine for Louisa, but Megan, so new to the area, considered it an adventure. She had never been into the town near Hawkings Crest and was more than a little curious. Megan found that it was not a long ride, 20 minutes or less, and the first thing she spotted was a church. It was a simple, squarely built structure, but since not
every village sported a place of worship, it was a pleasure for Megan to see. She wondered if they would have time to visit and possibly speak with the local priest.

She was very aware of the attention she and Louisa produced as they rode in on Bracken’s finest horses and in clothing of luxurious fabric rich with color. Her face, never haughty, was serene, and her smile melted the hearts of several children and a few old women. They dismounted before a pub, the men assisting them.

“We shall meet you back here in an hour,” Louisa informed them, not wanting to be dogged by these men while she shopped.

“Very well, my lady,” the shortest of the men answered, but Arik, as they soon learned, took no such notice. He walked slowly, some 20 odd paces behind Megan, but with the clear intention of not letting her out of his sight. Megan didn’t really care. Indeed, the thought of shopping had so buoyed her mood that she didn’t mind at all.

“I think in here, Meg,” Louisa said just ten yards down the street.

The women entered a small shop full of various dry goods. It was clean and smelled of fresh leather, but Megan could see at a glance that it held nothing suitable. She was surprised when Louisa did not immediately turn to go but instead walked rather noisily through the store, talking loudly to Megan, touching fabrics and commenting on every one.

Megan was still staring at Louisa as if she’d taken leave of her senses when a woman appeared at the rear. Where she had come from Megan was not exactly sure, but when she saw Louisa she smiled a gap-toothed smile and motioned her over with one long, crooked finger.

Louisa followed, and Megan, out of sheer curiosity, was right behind her. They moved behind a high shelf and through a doorway, and Megan immediately saw that this was the woman’s living quarters. The bed, washbasin, and kitchen table were all set very close together in the same room. There was also a door, short and not overly wide, and closed tightly. The old woman stopped before it and drew forth a key. When it was unlocked, she pushed the door wide. She stepped inside, Louisa at her heels and Megan just behind.

“New,” she proclaimed as she fingered an especially fine bolt. “Just in, it is. Bought from Elias the peddler.”

Stacked on shelves and hanging from pegs in every conceivable nook and cranny, rich accouterments of every type littered the room,
but Megan saw none of them. She could not tear her eyes from the fabric in the woman’s gnarled hands.

“Megan, what is it?” Louisa asked, having just seen her look.

“The fabric. My mother had chosen this and one other. She preferred the other and that was to be my dress, but this one,” she paused, “this was my choice.”

Louisa smiled, although Megan still did not notice.

“We’ll take it,” the older woman spoke softly. The proprietress chuckled softly as she named an exorbitant price.

“That,” Louisa stated calmly, “is outrageous.” Whereupon she started to dicker with the woman in a way that finally gained Megan’s attention. She listened to Louisa in awe and began to wonder if she knew Bracken’s aunt at all. She barely gave an inch, and when the bartering session was over, Louisa took the fabric in triumph. It had cost the moon, but she was well pleased. Other notions were purchased, although not haggled over, and within 30 minutes Megan and Louisa were back on the street. Arik was standing nearby, as Megan knew he would be, and fell into step behind them once again.

“Louisa, I’ve never seen you like that.”

Louisa laughed at herself. “I can’t begin to tell you how much I enjoy it.” She lifted the plainly wrapped package. “And I think you’ll agree that it was worth it.”

Megan laughed in return, but a moment later Louisa said soberly, “Megan, I’m so sorry your mother sold your dress fabric.”

“Thank you, Aunt Louisa, but she didn’t want that one for me. I don’t know why she bought two and gave me a choice; she had already made up her mind.”

“And what of the other fabric? Will you end up with two wedding dresses?”

“No, I’m sure not.” Megan shook her head in resignation. “If my mother comes to the wedding, she will no doubt be wearing a dress made from the other cloth.”

“But wasn’t the color fit for a wedding dress? Surely she will not shame the bride.”

“No, there will be no shame. This fabric is most fitting. The other was a light blue velvet.”

“Oh, Megan,” Louisa said with pleasure. “This cream satin will be so much more beautiful on you. I hope you’re pleased.”

Megan hugged the other woman. The setting was not the best, but she felt so full of joy that she could think of no other way to express it.

Her joy might have been dimmed somewhat had she looked up to a second-story window above the tavern and seen the woman standing above.

“What are you looking at?” The question came from the man who was lying on the large bed in the sparsely furnished room.

“My sister,” the woman at the window answered.

This brought the man from the bed to look out. After a moment, he offered his estimation.

“She’s not the beauty you are.”

Marigold smiled, her eyes still on Megan. “Few women are.”

Roland Kirkpatrick, third son of Lord Kirkpatrick, smiled in return. She was right, of course, but he would never tell her so. She was already so vain she believed herself too good for him. Marigold had never let him touch her, and she wouldn’t today, but he didn’t care. He told himself that just to be near her was enough.

Marigold had been blackmailing him for weeks. She had found out just days after the incident that he had been behind the killing of her father’s men and the stealing of his horses. He had believed them to be carrying gold. Roland cared not one whit if Vincent knew of his actions, but the knowledge had given Marigold a certain form of power, and as long as she kept coming to him for favors—money and whatever small jobs her scheming mind could conjure up to keep her from soiling her own hands—he was content to let her believe she had him at her mercy.

He watched now as she let the curtain fall back over the glass. He knew she was about to leave, so he decided to beat her to the punch.

“I’ve got to be going,” Roland said smoothly and was well satisfied with the momentary look of surprise in her eyes. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yes.” Just that swiftly, Marigold was back in control. “Who knows when we may need to do business again.”

Roland smiled at her, his look amused, but he didn’t answer. He would have been pleased to know that she stood thinking about him for along time afterward.

“Has it been terribly upsetting to you, Megan, that you left your home in such a way?” Louisa wondered that she hadn’t asked before, but now the time seemed right. Tired but successful, they were riding home, and because the men were several paces off, Louisa felt free to ask.

“It is hard, Aunt Louisa, but not impossible. At least it hasn’t been.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that the kinder Bracken is to me, the more I see a lack in my family. I had no idea anyone could care like that. It’s just another way the Lord is taking care of me.”

Suddenly Megan’s family was forgotten. “You refer to the Lord so often, Megan. Don’t you think He cares for all?” Louisa asked.

“Yes,” Megan answered carefully, “but not all embrace Him as I have chosen to do.”

A glance told Megan that Louisa had no idea what she spoke of.

“I would venture a guess that most everyone in England believes in God. Would you say that’s true?”

“Yes,” Louisa agreed readily.

“But I would also guess that not even a fraction of that many believe in His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. That’s where the separation comes. I have confessed to God that I am a sinner and that I need a Savior. People need more than just a belief in God or a Sovereign Ruler. They also must believe in His Son and His life changing work on the cross.”

“But I believe Jesus died on the cross,” Louisa reasoned.

“Yes, Louisa, but do you believe He died to save you from your sins?”

Louisa had no answer to this, and Megan’s voice became very tender.

“There is nothing magical here, Louisa. It is a simple act of faith, given by God, to trust in His Son’s saving power. In such a state, life here on earth is abundant, and afterward there is the promise of life eternal with Him.”

“So you do not believe that all people go to heaven?”

“No, I don’t,” Megan said, her voice still very kind.

She debated saying more, but the castle was now in view. Megan prayed for an opening, but Louisa was ready at least for the time, to ponder their conversation on her own.

“I will think on all you’ve said, Megan.”

“I’m glad, Louisa. And if at any point, even in the middle of the night, I can be of help to you, please come to me.”

“I will, Megan. Thank you.”

The remainder of the ride was made in silence as both women thought and prayed. However, Louisa’s prayer was different. For the first time she wondered, since she didn’t believe as Megan did, if God actually heard her.

Twenty-Two

“Y
OU ARE A THIEF AND A LIAR
,” Megan stated calmly.

“I have been steward here for over 40 years!”

Megan snorted with unladylike contempt. “Is that what you call what you do—acting as steward? As far as I can see, you rob your lord blind and grow fat at his expense.”

The little man’s face turned puce. Megan knew she had been merciless, but there was simply no getting through to this man.

“I will see Lord Bracken over this,” he threatened when he could finally speak.