The White Lord of Wellesbourne (11 page)

“Did you find John?” he asked
steadily.

Mark nodded. “Aye,” he said. “He
was right where we though he’d be, in the stables with his new charger. Do you
know that he’s taken to sleeping next to it? I swear he’d marry that beast if
he thought he could get away with it.”

“Are he and Luke with the men?”

“Aye.”

“Then we shall speak again
tomorrow morning of our departure for London. Preparations should be well
underway by then.”  Matthew focused on his father, sitting small and forlorn at
the table.  He made sure he caught his attention as he spoke. “The lady and I
are to be wed tonight at Vespers. Father, I shall require your assistance.”

Adam’s red-rimmed eyes focused on
him. “What is it?”

“I need you and Mark to ride to
Stratford and summon the priest. It is important.”

Adam nodded, a gesture somewhere
between resignation and refusal.  Mark slapped his father lightly on the
shoulder.

“Come, Father,” he said. “We’ve a
long day ahead of us. We’d better summon the priest before Matthew changes his
mind.”

“I shall not change my mind.”

Mark looked at his brother, a
smile on his lips. “Oh? So You have accepted your fate, have you? Thank God. No
more long nights of listening to you lament your dark future.”

“My future has never looked so
bright,” Matthew took the lady’s elbow, firmly, so that she would know it was
the truth. “Come along, love. Let us get away from this imbecile.”

Mark snorted as Alixandrea
allowed him to lead her from the room. Not strangely, the dogs, which had been
hovering near her the entire time she had been in the hall, followed. They were
all wagging their tails furiously at her.  It was hard not to notice; there
were at least seven of them, four or five large ones and a couple of smaller. 
Matthew had to shove one of the bigger ones out of his way.

“Are these dogs always so
solicitous?” Alixandrea asked.

Matthew shook his head. “Not at
all,” he looked around. “They must like you.”

“Well, I do not like them,” she
looked at them rather fearfully. “Which brings about another point, my lo… I
mean, Matthew.”

He grinned as she caught herself.
“What is that?”

She wasn’t sure to start and did
not want to offend him. “This place,” she lifted a hand in gesture. “How can I
put this kindly? It… smells.”

“So?”

She lifted her eyebrows. “It is
extremely offensive. Every inch of this keep reeks of filth. May I ask a rude
question?”

“By all means.”

“I would assume that Caroline is
chatelaine. Why does she allow this squalor?”

Matthew shook his head. “It is
not her choice.  She has tried to maintain Wellesbourne in fitting condition.
In the beginning, she worked herself ill over it. But it is difficult to keep
up such standards when men to not follow them. I think she just gave up.”

“I see.  May I ask another
question?”

“Is this one rude also?”

“That depends.”

He grinned; he had an easy smile
that came even more easily with her. “What is it?”

“I would ask that you allow me
free reign to clean it up and maintain it. It is a disgrace, Matthew. For any
visitors that might come here, I would be ashamed.”

He’d never given much thought to
the condition of the keep. It was what it was, and always had been.  As he’d
told Alixandrea, Caroline had tried to preserve it but the men and filth had
overwhelmed her small spirit and she had eventually surrendered.

Then he thought back to the time
when his mother was still alive; it had been a wonderful place then, fresh and
fragrant, full of music and laughter. But when Audrey died, so did the warmth. 
Wellesbourne keep had gradually decayed into a stale, cold structure that
housed men and dogs. They had all allowed this and saw nothing wrong with it,
for the change had been so gradual he’d hardy noticed.  In reflection, he could
see Alixandrea’s point. It was a miserable place.

“I would not want you to be
ashamed,” he said. “You are chatelaine now, as my wife. Do what this castle as
you will. But I warn you; we are used to it as it is. We crushed Caroline’s
spirit and we could crush yours, too.  If you wish to keep the place clean,
then it may take some serious reconditioning and patience on your part.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Then we
shall lead from the top. If I can have your cooperation, and your family’s,
then the men will see and obey.”

“You have it.”

She smiled. “I thank you.” The
moment had grown warm again.  But there was also a bit of awkwardness with the
silence until she broke it. “Where will you go now?”

He still had her by the elbow.
His hand moved down her arm until it captured her fingers. He toyed with them,
slowly, savoring the feel of her skin in his coarse palm.

“To the yard, where my men are,”
he said. “I will be with them this afternoon, but I will call for you right
before Vespers.  I assume you have enough to keep you busy between now and then.”

“I do,” she said, relishing the
new sensation of his fingers fondling her own. “I must find Caroline to see
what she has done so far.”

“I’d check the kitchen. Last I
saw her, she was speaking to the cook about tonight’s menu.”

Alixandrea nodded her thanks for
the information.  But there still lingered something on her mind and she
hesitated before speaking. “When are you leaving for London, Matthew?”

Not an unexpected question given
their conversation in the hall. But as he gazed at her, he realized that he
could not,
would
not, leave her behind. An odd thought, considering it
had never crossed his mind to bring her.  Caroline had always stayed behind at
Wellesbourne and he assumed that his wife would remain, also. But not now; not
when he was just coming to know her. He wanted her with him.

“
We
are leaving before the
week is out,” he replied.

Her eyes widened with surprise.
“I am going, too?”

“Did you think I would leave you
here?”

Momentarily speechless, she
fumbled over her words. “I…I do not know.  The thought never crossed my mind.
Why are we going to London?”

The easy smile flickered. “Do I
need a reason to take my new wife to London to show her off? I shall be the
envy of every man in the city.”

Her pretty cheeks flushed. “I am
sure there are far more lovely ladies in London, my lo.. I mean, Matthew. I am
but a simple noble lady from the north. I have never even been out of
Yorkshire.”

“We are going to change that.”

She did not know what to say to
that. The past day of her life had been the most disappointing, angering, and
thrilling that she had ever experienced. She could hardly imagine what the next
fifty years held for her.  Before she could think of a smooth reply, he took
her chin between his index finger and his thumb and tilted her head up. She
received a kiss to the cheek.

“You have a wedding to arrange,
my lady,” he said. “Can you find your way well enough in this place?”

“I shall manage.”

“Good.”

He winked at her as he quit the
entry.  She stood aside as Mark and Adam passed by her, having obviously been
waiting for Matthew to separate himself from her. She hadn’t even realized they
had been standing there, waiting.

Alixandrea stood there for an
eternal span of moments, her mind filled with nothing in particular. There was
so much happening that it was difficult to grasp only one thought.  But she
knew her most predominant thought, at the moment, was happiness. It wasn’t
something she had oft felt, certainly nothing she had expected at this place. 
It was a peculiar, embracing sensation, one she could easily become accustomed
to.

CHAPTER FIVE

The stables were dark, smelling
of hay and urine. The horses shifted about restlessly as evening approached,
sensing their meal was about to be delivered by the cowering stable boys who
lived in fear of the massive war beasts.

They had to unmuzzle the animals
in order to feed them, which could be something of an adventure. A couple of
the boys had met with misfortune at the teeth of the chargers; one lad was even
missing a finger. As the sounds and smells of evening descended, the stables
were increasingly restless.

Strode was in the stable, tucked
back in a far corner away from the entrance. He was tending to one of the
matched set of carriage horses from Whitewell that had come up lame. The fetlock
was swollen and tender and he was having a difficult time reducing the
swelling. It was an expensive horse and he did not relish the thought of
putting it down should it come to that. But a lame horse was of no service to
anyone. It would be killed to provide food for the dogs if he could not heal
it.

As dusk approached, he changed
out the dressing for the eighth time since sun rise.  The horse master had been
kind enough to supply him with a soda mixture to include in the compresses, a
blend designed to draw out the excess fluid.  It was a useful concoction, but
messy. It was all over his hands as he secured the compress. Just as he
finished, a shadow behind him caught his attention.

Startled, he turned to see
Jezebel standing just to the rear of the horse. Strode let out a long hiss.

“Woman,” he growled. “Do not
sneak up on me like that. I am bound to cut your throat before I know ‘tis
you.”

Jezebel fiddled with her apron. 
“Sorry,” she said. “I came to tell ye about m’lady’s wedding.”

“Well?”

“Tonight at Vespers.”

His eyebrows lifted in a menacing
manner. “That ‘tis an hour away, at most. And you are just coming to tell me
now?”

Jezebel had known Strode for a
few years, having been his lover for the past two. He was a powerful man in the
House of Terrington and she would do most anything for him, including betray
the confidence of a lady who had been most kind to her. But she did not think
of it that way; she could not see beyond her need to please Strode.  Whatever
he asked, she would do. Whatever he wanted, she would comply.

“I have been helping m’lady.” She
heard the threat in his tone and took a step back. “This is the first chance I
have had to come tell ye.”

Strode was on his feet. Grabbing
her by the hair, he slapped her a couple of times.  It was a brutal, sharp
sound that echoed off the walls of the stable, startling the horses. Jezebel
whimpered.

“Stupid cow,” he rumbled. “You
know what this means. You know what I have to do. I told you how important this
was, but still, you fail me?”

She cowered from him, weeping. “I
know,” she sobbed. “But this is the first chance I have had. M’lady needed me
and I could not get away.”

He still had her by the hair,
pulling the faded brown strands.  He had a wild look to his eye.  “I must get
to the men,” he muttered. “Key soldiers, those in command of the rest. They
must be prepared to strike at the very moment the church bell’s peal. It will
be their signal to erupt from within. And then, we shall have such chaos…”

He let go of her hair as he
trailed off.  Jezebel rubbed her face where he had struck her.  “What are you
going to do?”

Strode’s initial sense of panic
at the thought of his orders coming to fruition so quickly died into a slow
burn. He calmed himself; he was a good soldier and used to quick decision making.
That is why Lord Terrington put him in command. He would not fail at this most
important task no matter of the wench’s incompetence. It would not cost him his
glorious showing.

“Go back to the lady,” he told
her. “I will do what needs to be done.”

Jezebel was still rubbing her
face.  “Are ye going to be in the church?”

“My direct orders are to kill The
White Lord; therefore, I must be in the church. As the lady’s attendant, it is
my right and no one will be the wiser to my purpose unless you open your trap
and levy suspicion against me.”

“I shall not say a word.”

“You’d better not.” He glared at
her. “What about Lady Alixandrea? Have you spilled anything to her? The two of
you do an awful lot of chattering.”

“I have never said a word. She
knows nothing.”

He continued to glare at her as
if trying to intimidate her into changing her story. But the woman stood firm.
“Well and good for you, then. Traitors are dealt with in such ways and I’d have
no hesitation in slitting your skinny throat.”

Jezebel knew he spoke the truth.
She thought she was being clever in hiding her fear, but she wasn’t. He could
read it in her eyes. “Ye won’t hurt m’lady, will ye?” she asked timidly. “She
doesn’t deserve to be hurt. She hasn’t done anything.”

He snorted. “Foolish woman.  I
would sooner kill myself than harm a hair on her head. But she must stay out of
my way when I move on Wellesbourne. I will not have time to pick and choose my
targets.”