Unending Love (21 page)

She lifted her head, gazing up at him, her eyes
full of adoration.  “I feel it,” she murmured, putting a hand on his chest.
“And I hear it.  I hear it strongly and steadily.”

Maddoc didn’t want to talk anymore; he only
wanted to kiss her.  Dipping his head, his mouth slanted hungrily over hers, feeling
her respond ferociously.  As the fire blazed a few feet away, Maddoc lost
himself in the most powerful kiss he’d ever known, wishing he could simply take
her to her tent, kick the sister out into the elements, and have his way with
her.

His emotions were running wild and, as he
suckled her lower lip, he began to realize there was no private place for them
to go.  If he didn’t remove himself from her this instance, he would be
creating a spectacle for the gossips that seemed to be so fond of Adalind as a
subject. He didn’t want to contribute to that misery for her, even if they were
betrothed. But until the formal announcement was made, for all anyone knew,
Adalind was simply letting him have his way with her.  With a final and
lingeringly sweet suckle, he let her go.

“Go now and prepare,” he said huskily. “I shall
return for you and Willow in a short time.”

Breathless, Adalind nodded unsteadily as she
licked her lips, tasting Maddoc.   She was coming to crave that musky flavor.

“I will try and convince her,” she said,
struggling to collect her wits as she turned for the tent several yards away. 
“I cannot promise success, but I will try.”

Maddoc watched her go, winking at her when she
turned around to look at him again. She simply smiled, that beautiful smile he
was coming to cherish.  He’d seen the gesture his entire life but it meant more
now to him than he could comprehend.  When she eventually disappeared into the
heavy canvas tent that housed her sister and mother as well, Maddoc went back to
check on David before heading to his own shelter. 

He was aware that he wanted to clean up and be
presentable for Adalind.  Perhaps he might even shave.  As he dug out his
clothing from his traveling satchel, he further realized that his thoughts were
rolling quickly and all of them seemed to revolve around Adalind.  He was
excited for the evening at hand, thrilled to be spending it with Adalind, and
thought perhaps he might convince David to announce their betrothal that
night.  He was thinking many different things. Then he came to halt;
Great
Gods
, he thought,
I am giddy.  Have I actually become what I have
professed to hate? A man who would make a fool out of himself over a woman?

When Gerid entered the tent several minutes
later, it was to Maddoc shaving and whistling a tune.  Gerid had never heard
Maddoc whistled like that.  Given the fact that the man had on a clean tunic
and was washing up, Gerid figured out what had the man so happy.  He’d heard
about men in love but he’d never seen one before.  He suspected he was seeing
one now.

When he ventured to tease Maddoc on the subject,
Maddoc hit him in the chest so hard that Gerid fell backwards, hit the support
post, and collapsed the entire tent.

***

It took Maddoc, Adalind, and Gerid to escort
Willow to the great hall of Shadoxhurst where a loud and exciting party was
taking place.  Willow was literally dragging her feet, fearful of showing her
face at Victoria’s celebration, but Maddoc assured her that their skirmish would
be forgotten.  Still, Willow wasn’t so inclined to charge on in to the party
like a conquering hero.  She tucked in behind Adalind as they entered the warm,
smoky hall.

Adalind had her hand draped through Maddoc’s
elbow, holding him tightly as they ventured into the room.  It was an enormous
place with a vaulted ceiling and great beams supporting the thatched roof.  It
was also an older style hall with the fire pit in the center of the room as
smoke escaped upwards and exited through a hole in the ceiling.  The giant fire
made the room very warm, stinking of burnt meat and fresh rushes, and the room
itself was stuffed with guests enjoying a feast.

A page escorted their little group to a table
that was already full of guests.  Maddoc cleared away space on the over-crowded
bench for Adalind and Willow to sit, but he and Gerid remained standing because
there simply wasn’t enough room.  Along with the large dining table where
Victoria and her family and a host of close friends sat, there were at least
eight other hastily built tables to accommodate the guests, but there were more
guests than tables, so many of the men were left standing. 

This included Brighton de Royans.  He had been
in conversation with another knight near the fire pit but when he saw Maddoc
and his party enter, he casually made his way in their direction. 

His focus was on Adalind in a deep gold surcoat
that displayed her ravishing curves, something he found he couldn’t keep his
eyes off of.   It was fashionable for women, especially courtly women, to be
slender and rather flat-chested, as they used odd corsets that concealed their
figures, but there was no corset in the world that could conceal Adalind’s
luscious figure. 

The woman looked like a goddess and as he
approached the table where she sat with her tall, blond sister, he forced
himself to look away lest du Bois take offense.  Already, the man was on edge
around him.  Already, the lines were drawn between them and it was only going
to get worse.  Brighton had done a lot of thinking that afternoon about Lady
Adalind, and he had done a lot of planning.  It was time to put that plan into
action.

“My lord,” he greeted Maddoc and Gerid first
before bowing gallantly to the ladies. “My ladies, your beauty puts all other
women in this room to shame.”

Willow perked up at the sight of Brighton.  He
was handsome and friendly.  She had seen him at the field earlier after he and
Maddoc had made peace, but she hadn’t thought to ask about him.  She had been
preoccupied with her conflict with Victoria.  But now, she was quite appropriately
focused on the handsome knight.  As she blushed demurely, Adalind beamed.

“Again with your smooth tongue,” she said. “You
are going to swell my head, Brighton.  Now, I want you to sit down and tell me
everything you know about your sister over the past few months.”

Brighton was wise to the protocol when dealing
with Adalind; he’d learned well at their afternoon encounter.  He looked at
Maddoc.

“May I sit, my lord?” he asked.

Maddoc was standing directly behind Adalind, a
great hulking and protective presence, and his gaze was most decidedly on
Brighton. But he nodded graciously and Brighton shoved a male guest down the
bench to clear a space, crashing the unfortunately guest into the woman next to
him, who in turn plowed into another woman.  All down the bench, people were
shoved as a result of Brighton until the man at the far end slid right off onto
the floor.  Adalind and Willow burst into giggles as Brighton claimed his spot.

“Now,” Brighton said, claiming an ownerless cup
of wine. “Who is this lovely woman beside you, Adalind. You must introduce us.”

Adalind grinned at her sister. “This is the Lady
Willow de Aston, my sister,” she said. “Willow, this is Sir Brighton de
Royans.  His sister, Glennie, was my very best friend at Winchester Castle.”

Willow put on a good act of being properly
modest and shy.  She batted her eyelashes fittingly. “Sir Brighton,” she said
sweetly. “It is an honor to meet you.”

Brighton flashed his dimples at her. “And you,
my lady,” he replied. “I see that all of the de Aston women have astounding
beauty.”  As Willow giggled and averted her gaze, Brighton focused on Adalind. 
“In answer to your inquiries, the last I heard from my sister about a month
ago.  She sent word to me about a feast to be given in honor of her returning
from Winchester and she wanted to know if I would be attending.”

“A feast?” Adalind repeated. “Will you be
going?”

Brighton shook his head. “Netherghyll Castle is
too far to the north and I have no time for such things,” he said. “Did Glennie
tell you all about Netherghyll? We were both born there, you know, although I
was already fostering by the time she was born. I was around ten years of age. 
In fact, Glennie and I have never spent more than a few weeks together in our
lives.  She is my baby sister but we did not grow up together, unfortunately.”

“That is sad,” Adalind said. “It is sad that you
had to grow up without your family.  I grew up with my sister and also with Sir
Maddoc.  I was around six years of age when we came to live with my grandfather
at Canterbury Castle.  My father’s home, Oakley Manor, was destroyed by fire
and we had nowhere else to go, so we went to live at Canterbury.   Maddoc was a
young knight of twenty when I first met him. I remember telling my mother that
I would marry him someday.”

Brighton’s grinning gaze moved between Adalind
and Maddoc. “And how has your master plan worked out so far?”

Adalind laughed softly. “We are betrothed.”

“Formally?”

She shrugged. “Papa has not announced it yet,
but he will. He has given Maddoc his consent to court me.”

Brighton’s gaze lingered on her a moment before shifting
his focus to Maddoc.  One could nearly feel his curiosity in the air; it
bordered on challenge. “Did you always know you would marry her, Sir Maddoc?”
he asked, his tone not belying his thoughts.  “Surely there were times when it
crossed your mind.”

Maddoc’s intense gaze was riveted to him,
watching him. It was scrutiny in its most penetrating form.  After a moment, he
looked away.

“I did not,” he replied, seeming to find interest
in the rest of the room. “She would follow me around constantly and it was all
I could do to get away from her.  Things have changed considerably.”

Brighton’s focus lingered on Maddoc a moment
before returning his attention to Adalind. “You are a fortunate man,” he said.
“I envy you your good fortune. Perhaps I shall be so blessed one day.”

“Do you have anyone in mind?” Adalind wanted to
know. “Is there a special lady somewhere that has your interest?”

He shrugged coyly.  “I was going to plead for your
hand but I see that Sir Maddoc has beaten me to it.”

She thought he was teasing her and she laughed.
“It would not have done you any good if you had,” she said. “There has only
been Maddoc in my heart as long as I can recall. However, my sister is not
spoken for.  Perhaps she would accept your suit.”

Willow blushed furiously, thrilled that her
sister had suggested her to the handsome knight, but Brighton found himself in
an awkward situation that could go very bad very quickly if he didn’t handle it
tactfully. The truth was that he hadn’t been jesting about offering for her
hand and was testing the waters, so to speak, but her response had him
rethinking his tactics. It was a dangerous game he was embarking on with du
Bois around, but before he could reply, Maddoc interrupted.

“Come,” he said, pulling Adalind up from the
bench. “Let us dance.”

Adalind looked up at him, surprised, as he
practically hauled her to her feet. “But we have not yet eaten,” she said. “Are
you not hungry?”

“Nay.”

He lifted her over the bench and took her hand,
pulling her towards the big area to the west of the fire pit where guests were
collecting for the next dance.  Gerid, interested in the lovely women looking
for dance partners, followed them and lost himself in the crowd. The hall
didn’t have a second floor gallery so the minstrels, eight of them on different
instruments, sat against the western wall with a leader that dressed much like
a mummer in brightly colored silks. He played a flute of some kind and happily
[J38]
 
encouraged people to dance.  

A rondelet was preparing, or a certain type of
dance where dancers formed a circle and held hands until they broke into
couples to complete the reel.  Maddoc positioned her in the circle and took her
hand as other dancers joined up and held hands as well. Maddoc scrutinized
anyone of the male sex who tried to hold Adalind’s other hand, so much so that
the man who ended up holding it switched places with his female partner so she
ended up holding Adalind’s hand. All the while, Adalind was watching Maddoc
very carefully.

“Why do you wish to dance?” she leaned in his
direction.

He wouldn’t look at her. “Why not?”

“Because we only just arrived and have not eaten
yet. I am hungry.”

He sighed heavily but still wouldn’t look at
her. “Is it not enough that I wanted to dance with you? Must you know every
reason why?”

Adalind wasn’t foolish.  She suspected why. “You
do not like Brighton, do you?”

“I could not know what you mean.”

“Aye, you do. You do not like him.”

He knew he couldn’t get around it.  She was too
sharp. The corners of his mouth twitched. “If you must know, I do not like the
way he looks at you.”

“He looks at me as the friend of his sister.”

“He looks at you as a man looks at a beautiful
woman.”

“You did not have to give him permission to
sit.”

He did look at her, then, with a droll
expression that suggested he knew better. “You wanted to hear of your friend,”
he said. “How would you have reacted if I told him he was unwelcome? You would
have kicked me in the shins.”