The Knight and the Dove (47 page)

“What do you do to make Gabriella know that you love her?” Lyndon, seeing his sincerity thought a moment.

“Sometimes I take her flowers from the meadow.”

Bracken snapped his fingers together. “That’s it! Tryg said something about flowers. I’ll do it!”

Bracken walked away then, looking more like a boy in love than a seasoned knight. Had he looked back, he would not have found Lyndon laughing, but instead would have seen that his friend’s eyes were filled with fondness and admiration.

Megan was in the kitchen working over some of her herbs when Bracken found her. She was measuring, pouring, and working so intently that it was a moment before she noticed him.

“Oh, Bracken,” Megan smiled. “I didn’t see you.”

“These are for you.”

Megan stared at the bundle of purple flowers in his hands. Some
were a bit smashed and the stems on others were broken, but they were pretty nonetheless.

“Thank you, Bracken.” Megan’s voice spoke of her confusion. “I don’t recognize what herb they are. Were they for something special?”

“Nay,” he shook his head. “Just for you. For your bedchamber or salon.”

Megan looked at the flowers and then back at her husband, her brow still knit with bewilderment.

“Bracken,” Megan began. “I still do not—”

He cut her off. “I was only thinking of you and wished for you to know it.”

Bracken watched as understanding dawned. The transformation was amazing.

“These are for me?” Megan’s eyes began to glow. “You gathered these for me?”

Bracken cleared his throat, now wishing they were alone.

“Oh, Bracken,” was all Megan could say as she smiled up at him with shining eyes. “They are splendid flowers. Indeed, they are most wondrous. I’ll go right now and put them in water.” Megan turned away but came right back.

“Your brows are mussed,” she explained seriously as her soft fingers smoothed over his brow. As she turned away, Bracken pulled the wimple from her hair. He did this often, and normally Megan would have complained, but so taken was she with the flowers she didn’t even turn. All those in the kitchen who had witnessed the scene smiled as Bracken then made his way outside, a huge grin parting his beard.

By evening, the flowers seemed to be the talk of the entire castle. Megan heard little whispers here and there, but it was some time before she understood it was the flowers from Bracken about which they were speaking.

“You should’ve seen ’im agrinnin’ after ’e ’anded ’em to ’er,” Megan heard a woman say who was setting up for the evening meal. “It’s spring all right. I tells ya, ’e’s in love.”

Megan did not let on that she’d heard—it was all too fascinating to
stop. The other women all agreed and Megan listened for a few minutes more before moving on in great thought.

Bracken was acting oddly but Megan didn’t really think that spring was involved. In fact, when Megan stopped to think on it, Bracken was coming for her less and less. With the thought came regret that she’d shared her true feelings with Bracken a few weeks back. She must have said something to make him think he was upsetting her.

In truth, the physical side of marriage was not something Megan enjoyed, but that was life; some things were pleasure and some were duty. Megan wasn’t certain, but it seemed to her that only women of loose morals found pleasure in such union. However, Evadne’s words at Windsor Castle still came to mind:

“Do not settle for endurance. ’Tis something to be enjoyed.”

Megan resolved to talk with Bracken. She never wanted him to think she was angry with him, and she did so want a child. The thought of bringing this up to Bracken caused her face to heat on the spot, but she knew it must be done. Megan could have used some time to calm herself, but Bracken suddenly appeared at her side. She watched his mouth open and shut as he changed his mind about whatever he was going to say. Megan stood quietly as he then took in her pink face.

“You’re blushing.”

Megan shrugged uncomfortably. “’Tis nothing.”

Bracken looked unconvinced, and Megan cleared her throat.

“May I speak with you after the meal, Bracken?”

“Certainly.” He watched her a moment. “Are you sure you don’t wish to speak now?”

“It can wait.”

“All right. In my chamber then?”

Megan shook her head. “You do not want us to quarrel there.”

Bracken’s brows winged upward. “You’re planning an argument?”

Megan looked helpless and finally admitted, “In truth, Bracken, I am not sure.”

Bracken weighed her words a moment before nodding and wisely let the subject drop. She was becoming quite anxious, and he needed to show her that he was more than willing to abide by her wishes.

The meal was plentiful that night and enjoyed by all, but both duke and duchess were preoccupied; Megan, with regret for setting up an audience with her husband, and Bracken, with speculation as to what
she might say. Indeed, he didn’t intend to wait long. As soon as Megan was through, he asked her to join him in the war room.

Megan agreed readily enough, but it took a moment for her to get started. She paced the room some and then started to sit on a chair. Bracken motioned to her, however, bidding her to join him on the long settee. Megan did so, but she was clearly not relaxed. In fact, when she began to speak, it was with her eyes on a distant spot across the room.

“Have I angered you, Bracken?”

“No,” he answered as he studied her profile. “Do I seem angry?”

“Not exactly,” Megan said softly. “Just different.”

Bracken had hoped she would notice, but it was supposed to bring pleasure, not confusion.

“This is a problem?”

Megan knew then that she was not explaining herself well. She made herself shift so that she could face Bracken and look into his eyes.

“Since we talked outside the walls, Bracken, you do not touch me as much.”

Bracken leaned forward so his face was on her level. He whispered, “You could touch me.”

Megan looked horrified and would have moved from the settee, but Bracken gently captured her hands.

“Nay, Bracken, I could not!” Megan’s voice was breathless as she pulled to free her hands. “ ’Twould be a sin.”

Bracken’s smile was very tender, but he did not release her. “Oh, my little Megan, no, ’tis not a sin. My mother is a woman of God, like yourself, and I know she delighted in my father’s touch.”

“But, Bracken,” Megan knew she might hurt him, but it had to be said, “with her commitment to Christ, she is different now. I do not think she would feel the same way.”

Bracken only smiled. “I know all about my mother’s belief, Megan, but it was her who told me to court you.”

“Court me?”

“Yes. She said to woo my wife gently. I did not fully understand her at the time, but now I see that this way you will know what is in my heart, and our union will bring happiness to you.”

Megan was more confused than ever. She so admired Joyce and would have loved to talk with her. Could Bracken really be right? Is this
what God had for her? Megan felt something stir within her. Bracken had been unspeakably tender with her in the last two weeks, and it seemed she cared for him more every day.

Megan was still thinking on all of this when Bracken pulled her close. Megan held herself still as he put his arm around her, but there
was
nothing to fear. Bracken began a gentle dialogue, meant to soothe and make Megan feel cherished.

“I’m planning a tourney.”

“You are?” Megan’s voice was slightly breathless with her anxiety.

“Um-hmm. Next month. In honor of my wife’s eighteenth birthday.”

Megan turned her head to look up into his face, her apprehension forgotten. He was serious!

“Bracken, why did you not tell me?”

“I just did. All of my family is coming; yours, too, I hope.”

“Oh, Bracken,” Megan’s joy was so complete that she laid a hand spontaneously on his chest. “You are too good to me.”

“You are my wife, Megan,” he replied, staring down lovingly into her eyes. “How else am I to treat you?”

Megan could only smile in absolute serenity. After kissing her gently, Bracken pressed her head onto his chest. Megan was uncomfortable at first, but soon the beat of Bracken’s heart came to her ear. Suddenly she was back atop his horse, Warrior, safe in his arms as they returned from the Stone Lake abbey. It wasn’t long before she had relaxed completely. They talked for another hour, and when they finally rose to take the stairs, both were bathed in tenderness and contentment.

Thirty-Four

B
RACKEN’S TREATMENT OF
M
EGAN
over the next week was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Something wonderful was happening between them, and Megan had never known such joy or peace.

“Come to me, Megan,” Bracken had bid one night early that week. The day had been long and Megan was tired, but she complied. When she had joined him, however, he had simply put his arms around her and pulled her close. After a moment, Megan had said, “Bracken, are you angry with me?”

“No.”

Still he did not move beyond settling her a little more securely beside him.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes, I’m certain. Go to sleep, Megan.”

“In here?”