The White Lord of Wellesbourne (36 page)

“I shall watch that spectacle the
same way I watch this one. Through my fingers.”

His wriggled his eyebrows. 
“Perhaps that is because you do not understand these events,” he said
helpfully. “I should be happy to explain the rules of the joust so that you
will not be so fearful of it.”

She stood up, winding her way
through the benches until she reached the edge of the platform. “Very well,
husband. Explain. Though I will not guarantee it should ease my fears.”

He pulled off a heavy glove and
reached out, taking her hand.

“Allow me to try, at least,” he
said. “A match is comprised of three passes against your opponent, or glances
as they are called. You may score one point for breaking a lance between the
waist and neck. You may score two points for breaking your lance against the
helmet or for actually knocking off a helm. Once a helm is off, your opponent
cannot replace it, increasing the chances of forfeiture and, consequently, your
victory. Three points are awarded for knocking your opponent off his horse.
Additionally, should you unseat him you not only win the match, but his horse
as well.  Do you have any questions?”

She looked thoughtful. “What if
you do not break a lance at all? What if you simply pass each other and no harm
is done?”

“Then no one scores.”

“And no one gets hurt.”

His grin was back. “True enough.
But where is the fun in that?”

She feigned horror, watching him
laugh at her.  He brought her hand up to his lips, kissing the soft flesh
gently. “Go take your seat, love. Gaston should be here any moment and it has
been years since we’ve squared off against one another.”

Her horror remained, only now it
was real. “You are not going to practice against him, are you? Matt, he’s
enormous. He’ll… he’ll…”

“He’ll…what?” he lifted an
eyebrow, urging her to finish her sentence. “He cannot unseat me. He never
has.”

She did not look entirely happy.
He kissed her hand again, put his glove back on, and spurred his charger back
to the corner where Luke and John were congregating along with a host of
Wellesbourne squires.  Alixandrea resumed her seat in the lists; this time, she
put her pocket kerchief over her head to cover her face completely. She could
hear Matthew laughing all the way across the field.

His laughter made her smile. She
sat there, listening to it, gazing into the white fabric in front of her face.
Suddenly there was movement on the seat next to her and she pulled off the
handkerchief to find Caroline standing there. On the field, Mark entered from
the gates on his red destrier and charged across the field in the direction of
his brothers.  She smiled up at Caroline.

“Good morn to you,” she said. “I
was simply taunting Matthew with my fear for his safety.”

She waved the kerchief around to
prove her point and Caroline smiled wanly. “I do not like tournaments, either.
They are brutal things.”

Alixandrea nodded, noting that
Caroline looked rather pale. “I missed you last night. You left before we could
speak.”

Caroline’s weak smile faded. She
stammered. “I… that is to say, I.…”

“Where is your cousin?”
Alixandrea would not let the woman suffer for one moment. It was apparent that
she was uncomfortable. “I was looking forward to meeting her.”

Caroline’s pale face washed with
surprise. She fidgeted a moment before pointing weakly behind her. “I have
brought her,” she said, almost painfully. “She does not know anyone and I
thought it would be rude to leave her alone and…”

Alixandrea stood up, catching her
first real glimpse of Lady Mena standing several feet behind Caroline.  It was
a bit of a shock, but not too terribly. In fact, she was rather curious. Mena
was indeed a pretty girl with auburn curls and green eyes.  She had a delicate
face that held a timid expression.  Alixandrea waved the woman over.

“Come, my lady,” she invited.
“Sit with us. We are about to watch a horrid spectacle.”

Mena seemed to relax. In fact,
she smiled, a pretty gesture. Alixandrea could see why Matthew had been smitten
with the woman; she was indeed an appealing little thing.  And she oddly felt
no jealousy at all. In fact, she was quite happy to make the woman’s
acquaintance. 

“Thank you, Lady Wellesbourne,”
Mena said gratefully. “It is indeed an honor.”

Alixandrea was feeling rather
proud of herself for handling the situation so well. Caroline was at ease, Mena
was at ease, and she was sure they would all become great friends.  That is,
until Mena held out her hand in the direction of the steps, motioning to
someone who was apparently standing just out of her line of sight.

Suddenly, a blond-haired girl
leapt onto the lists and clasped Mena’s hand. The child could not have been
more than eight or nine years of age and when the little girl turned to look at
her, Alixandrea felt all of the blood rush out of her face. She could not
breathe. For staring at her from the face of that small child were Matthew’s
eyes.  They were absolutely unmistakable and the wave of shock that washed over
her almost had her reeling.

But she fought it. She would not
let the blow claim her, no matter how severe.
‘Tis not possible,
she
thought as she gazed at the tow-headed girl. But her logical mind told her that
there could be no mistake. Alixandrea’s composure slipped rapidly as the child
approached. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears that she could hardly
hear the introduction.

“My lady,” Mena said. “This is my
daughter, Audrey. I hope you do not mind if she joins us also. She is eager to
see her first tournament.”

Alixandrea felt dizzy. The child
even had Matthew’s mother’s name.  The little girl dipped into a practiced
curtsy and spoke in a soft, sweet voice.

“Greetings, Lady Wellesbourne.”

Head swimming, overwhelmed with
what she was confronted with, Alixandrea somehow managed to respond. It was a
sheer testament to her will power.

“Welcome, Audrey. What… what
pretty hair you have.”

Audrey grinned brightly. It was
Matthew’s grin. Alixandrea nearly came apart; it took every ounce of control she
possessed to maintain her poise. As Mena and Audrey sat down, she turned her
attention back to the field where her husband and his brothers were
congregated.

Alixandrea could see Matthew
speaking with Mark; she could further see when Matthew’s helmed head snapped in
the direction of the lists. He drove his spurs into the side of his charger so
hard that she was positive that he had gored the animal. The beast jumped
violently and raced across the field, almost crashing into the lists in its
haste.

Matthew threw up his visor, his
blue eyes enormous pools of astonishment as his gaze moved from Alixandrea to
Mena and finally to Audrey. He did not say a word; he did not have to. He just
gawked. But his actions, at that moment, told Alixandrea everything she needed
to know.

He hadn’t known.

Shaking, unsteady, Alixandrea
stood up.  She did not know what else do to. “My lord, I believe you already
know Lady Mena. This is her daughter, Audrey.”

Matthew stared at the little girl
as she stood up and gave him a smart curtsy.  He still did not speak, clearly
unable to.  The women sat with baited breath, wondering how he was going to
react to the obvious; each and every one of them, in their own way, knew the
situation for what it was. But no reaction was immediately forthcoming from
Matthew.

After what seemed like an
eternity, he pulled off his gloves, dismounted his steed, and vaulted onto the
platform.  He stood before the ladies, silently towering over them.  When he
finally did sit down, it was directly in front of Alixandrea. He reached out
and took her hand; his grip was clammy and quivering. She held his hand
tightly.

It was a pivotal moment.
Alixandrea could see what had happened, and all that had happened.  Matthew was
shaken to the core at what he was confronted with. Perhaps Lady Mena had come
to tell him last night at the feast and Matthew, fearing for Alixandrea’s
reaction, had chased her away. He never gave her the chance.  Perhaps Mark had
also been trying to tell him, but he sent his brother away. Matthew said he
hadn’t seen her in almost ten years, so he surely could not have known about
the daughter he had clearly fathered.

Alixandrea did not know all of
the facts or reasons, but one thing was clear; Matthew needed her support, not
her distress. She squeezed his hand tightly for strength, for comfort.  He
responded by squeezing so tightly that he almost broke her fingers.

“Lady Audrey has never seen a
tournament before,” Alixandrea said to Matthew. “Surely you are honored that
she has chosen to make your match the very first.”

Matthew cleared his throat; even
so, his voice was hoarse when he spoke. “Of course,” he said. His eyes were
riveted to the child. “Is this your first time to London also, my lady?”

Audrey was, in every sense of the
word, an adorable child.  She smiled, displaying a shadow of her father’s
dimples.

“It is,” she said. “Mother and I
came to visit and we saw that Cousin Caroline was here also. Yesterday, we saw
a circus with monkeys and dancing horses, and today I am going to see a tournament!”

Matthew looked as if he was going
to cry. Alixandrea looked at him, watching his eyes grow moist at the first
sound of his child’s voice, and she hastened to lighten the mood for his sake.
He was an emotional man as it was and she did not want him to embarrass
himself.

“Surely you must come and visit
us at the Tower,” she said to Audrey, to Mena. “Where are you staying?”

“In town, with my husband’s
sister,” Mena said; she, too, was having a difficult time looking at anything
other than Matthew.  “She lives a few miles from the Tower.”

“Is your husband here?”

“He has business at the ports.“
Mena tore her gaze away from Matthew long enough to look at Alixandrea. “He is
a merchant, my lady. Usually he comes to London on buying trips alone, but this
time, we begged to come and he agreed. We saw the Wellesbourne army arrive two
days ago and I sent word to the Tower to see if Caroline was in residence.
Fortunately, she was. I have not seen my cousin in many years, and she has
never even met Audrey.”

It explained a great deal.
Alixandrea felt no anger, no jealousy, only tremendous pity for her husband and
the little girl he never knew.  She thought that, perhaps, Matthew needed a
private word with Mena. It would seem that much had happened he did not know about,
and she had not told him.  She was undisturbed at the thought of leaving them
alone for a few moments. It was the right thing to do. Abruptly, she stood up.

“Audrey, do you like custard?”
she asked.

The little girl nodded. “Aye.”

Alixandrea held out a hand to
her. “May I take you to the custard vendor? He is just around the corner. I saw
him earlier. I have been dying for sweets all morning. Would you like to come?”

Audrey jumped up eagerly, but
rightfully remembered her mother. “Mummy, may I?”

Mena was clearly unsteady, but
she nodded. “Not too much, darling. It will give you a belly ache.”

Alixandrea took the little girl’s
hand, simultaneously reaching down for Caroline. “You, too, my lady,” she said
crisply. “I may want more than one sweet and I will need more hands to carry
them. Come along.”

Caroline did not argue. She
bolted up from her seat and dutifully followed Alixandrea and Audrey from the
lists. 

Suddenly alone, Matthew and Mean
simply sat there, each one of them not daring to look at the other just yet. 
It was an odd and painful silence that filled the air between them until
Matthew finally shattered the spell.

“My God, Mena,” he breathed.
‘’Why didn’t you tell me?”

She smiled, with irony. “Tell you
that I was pregnant when we parted or tell you before now that you had a
daughter?”

He did look at her, then. “Both,”
he hissed. He reached up and unlatched his helm, pulling it off irritably and
setting it at his feet. “You should have told me you carried my child. It was
my right to know.”

“Why?” she whispered. “You could
not marry me. Your father had already betrothed you to Lady Alixandrea. What
good would it have done other than to make you miserable and guilty?”

He could not disagree. “At least
I could have taken care of you.”

She smiled sadly, shaking her
head. “I did not need to be taken care of. I needed a husband and Audrey needed
a father.”

“I
am
her father,” Matthew
blurted, then caught himself before he could say too much. He was bordering on
anger and resentment.  “You even named her Audrey, after my mother.”

She nodded. “Lest you forget, I
knew your mother, Matt, and I adored her. She is like my Audrey in every way.”

Matthew did not know if he felt
better or worse. He could only imagine his father’s reaction if he knew, a
blond girl that looked exactly like his dead wife. But the thought was too
overwhelming for him at the moment and he chased it away. His mind was brittle
enough.