Unending Love (23 page)

“Please come to the point, de Royans.”

Brighton was starting to show signs of
nervousness but he fought it. “My lord, I have known Lady Adalind for nearly
five years,” he said. “She is the best friend of my sister, Glennie.”

David was suddenly interested. “Glennie is your
sister?”

“She is, my lord.”

“Hmmm,” David looked thoughtful. “Adalind and I were
only just speaking of her. I thought she might make a match for my son, Daniel,
who is in need of a wife.” He looked hopeful. “Is that why you have come?
Because you and Adalind have discussed your sister as a match for my son?”

Brighton shook his head. “We have not,” he said.
“This is the first I have heard of such a thing.”

“Do you think your sister might be interested?” David
wanted to know. “Daniel will inherit my earldom.  He should make a very fine
husband once he settles down. The right woman can do wonders for a man.”

Brighton wasn’t particularly concerned with his
sister or the earl’s son, but it did bring about an idea.  In fact, it was a
very good idea, or so he thought.  If Brighton was one thing and one thing
only, he was clever. He was very clever.  And he never missed an opportunity.

“Perhaps I can arrange for a meeting,” he said.
“I would be most happy to introduce my sister to your son, but in return, I
would appeal for your consideration.”

“Consideration for what?”

“Consideration for me as an appropriate match
for Lady Adalind.”

David didn’t react at first. It was as if
Brighton’s proposition confused him because his thought processes were still
lingering on Daniel and Glennie. Then, when he realized what the man was saying,
his expression slackened with surprise.

“Adalind?” he repeated.

“Aye, my lord.”

“But… but I thought you said you have known her
these five years.”

“I have, my lord.”

“And you think to make an offer for her hand
now
?
Why did you not do it two or three or four years ago?”

“Because I was a fool.”

David eyed him, somewhat in disbelief.  Then, he
weakly shook his head. “Your timing is poor,” he said. “Although I appreciate
your offer, she is already betrothed.”

“Formally?”

“Formally enough.”

“Has there been an announcement? A contract
brokered?”

“Not yet. But I gave my word.”

Brighton wasn’t going to play dumb.  He knew the
facts and he knew why.  “I understand that du Bois is a fine knight,” he said.
“I have the greatest admiration for him but I will also tell you that I have
spent some time observing du Bois and Lady Adalind and I am convinced that du
Bois is only infatuated with her. I do not see it being a viable marriage and I
do not see Lady Adalind being happy over time.  Men like du Bois… their
attention is finite and when it burns out, he will focus on something, or
someone, else.  Adalind will suffer as a result.”

David listened to the rather passionate
statement with growing distain. “Who are you to make such a bold declaration
about Maddoc?” he asked. “I have known the man for fifteen years and he is the
finest knight I have ever seen.  Adalind is in love with him, and he with her,
and their marriage will be a happy one.  I will say again that I appreciate
your offer but I will decline. Adalind is spoken for.”

Brighton knew he should probably leave it at
that.  He was, in truth, an honorable knight, but he saw something in Adalind
he wanted very much and he was a man unused to denial. He wasn’t sure why the
past few hours had turned his head so dramatically towards Adalind de Aston,
but he knew more and more as the minutes passed that she was something worthy
of his attention. Worth fighting for.  When Adalind and du Bois had gone to
dance, Brighton had politely conversed with Adalind’s sister for a few moments before
excusing himself and going in search of Adalind’s grandfather.  He knew who
Canterbury was; everyone did. He was quite sure du Bois would try to run him
through when he found out what he was up to, but it was a risk he was willing
to take.

“May I ask what du Bois brings with him to a
marital contract?” he asked. “Prestige? Money? Lands?”

David was coming not to like this brash young
knight. “He is the grandson of the Duke of Navarre,” he said. “His father is
one of the finest men I have ever known.  He comes from a very fine family,
although I am not sure why that is any concern of yours.”

Brighton was playing it cool. “A duke’s
grandson,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Very fine indeed. Will he inherit
any titles?”

“Not that I am aware of.”

“Does he have property?”

“Again, not that I am aware of.”

“Then what does he have to offer Adalind?”
Brighton asked, thinking he was driving home a particularly strong point. “I can
offer her all of these things. She will be a baron’s wife and, more than that,
have all of the property and titles that I can offer her.  She would be well
cared for and never want for anything.  No offense to du Bois, but I can offer
her so much more than he can, including the support of Norfolk’s army. D’Aubigny
would be thrilled to be linked to the de Lohrs by marriage, even if it was only
through the marriage of one of his knights. Still, the loyalty, and the promise
of power and support, would be there.   Is that not offering more than du Bois
can bring?”

“Adalind?” Came a voice from the entry to the
tent. “You… you have come to speak of Adalind?”

Both men turned to the entry to see Willow
standing there, her expression full of confusion. Confusion was rapidly turning
to disappointment. David propped himself up on an elbow in an attempt to face
her.

“Willow,” he scolded softly.  “You know better
than to eavesdrop on a conversation. You were not invited here.”

Willow was wide eyed with shock at what she had
just heard. “I was not eavesdropping,” she insisted, her voice growing angry.
“I was simply standing at the doorway because I heard voices and I overhead what
Sir Brighton said. He has made an offer of marriage for Adalind?”

David could just see by the look on her face
that she was bordering on some kind of tantrum.  “Sir Brighton has made the
offer but I have informed him that Adalind is pledged to Maddoc,” he said
steadily. “Willow, I want you to leave and not repeat anything that you have
heard, is that clear? This is a private conversation and you will do us the
courtesy of respecting our confidentiality.”

Willow acted as if she hadn’t heard him. Her big
green eyes were focused on Brighton as if he was the lowest form of life. Her
lips molded into a pout and her eyes filled with tears.  Angrily, she stamped
her foot.

“You…,” she sputtered before breaking in to
tears. “You are hateful, Sir Brighton, just
hateful
!”

In sobs, she ran from the tent and David knew he
had a mess on his hands.  He wasn’t sure why, or how, but he knew things were
going to go from bad to worse.  He shouted for a soldier who, as soon as he
appeared, was sent on the run for Emilie.  When the man fled, David felt back
exhaustedly against his pillows and waved Brighton off.

“I think you had better go now,” he said. “Our
conversation is finished.”

Brighton understood, although he still wasn’t
sure why Willow had cursed him so.   Perhaps it was because he was trying to
interfere in the relationship between Adalind and Maddoc and, to that end, he
could see her point. He
was
hateful. Perhaps their conversation was
indeed over for the night, at least until the next time he could bring it up to
David.  He knew there would be a next time.

“Very well, my lord,” he said, backing out of
the tent. “Until the next time we meet, I pray your health returns.”

He was nearly out of the tent when David called
to him. “De Royans?”

Brighton paused in the open flap. “My lord?”

David’s gaze, for as weary as he was, remained
strong and intense. “There will be no next time on this subject,” he said. “We
are at an end.”

Brighton dipped his head as if to understand,
but he did not reply.  The truth was that the subject was not at an end, not by
any stretch of the imagination.

When he retired that evening, it was with his
broadsword in his hand.  He fully expected du Bois to descend on him and was
rather surprised in the morning to discover that he was still alive.

***

“Stay away from him, Maddoc,” David said
threateningly. “I do not want blood spilled today, do you understand? I would
have our trip home to Canterbury uneventful. I do not need to be worrying over
you when I have more important things on my mind.”

Maddoc wouldn’t look at him, nor would he
respond.  On a cold and foggy morning following the evening’s festivities, he
had been ordered to break down their camp so they could return to Canterbury
and he was, in theory, completing the job.  He had issued orders to the men,
and he and Gerid were overseeing the disassembly. However, there was more to it
than that. So much more.

David, able to stand although he was hunched
over and leaning heavily on a big stick the physic had given him, had not let
Maddoc out of his sight since last night.  Since the moment Brighton had left
David’s tent, there were dealings afoot.  Because Willow hadn’t kept her mouth
shut on what she had heard between Brighton and David, David had been forced to
tell Maddoc that Brighton had made an offer for Adalind’s hand.   Maddoc hadn’t
reacted overly but David could see the smoldering fire in his eyes.  That fire
was meant to kill.  God only knew, he was well aware of what the man was
capable of.  Walter de Burgh had found that out the hard way.

“Maddoc,” David lowered his voice when he saw
that the man was not responding to him. “Look at me. That is a command.”

After a lengthy pause, Maddoc turned to look at
him.  When their gazes locked, David lifted his eyebrows.

“Do you understand what I am telling you?” he
asked.

Maddoc nodded faintly. “I do.”

David acknowledged his answer but he still
didn’t trust him. “Where is Adalind right now?”

“With her mother, grandmother, and sister. They
are in the hall breaking their fast.”

“Do you know where de Royans is?”

“He left this morning and rode east.”

“You were stalking him?”

“Of course I was.”

David’s jaw ticked angrily. “Damnation, Maddoc,
stop this posturing,” he snapped.  Then he sighed heavily, struggling to stay
calm because it made his head hurt when he got truly angry. “De Royans is a
suitor just like all the rest.  You have dealt with four of them up until this
point and de Royans is no different.  Remain calm and stay away from him, and
this too shall pass. I will deal with the man if the subject comes up again.”

Maddoc was shaking his head even before David
finished his sentence. “He is
not
like the rest,” he said. “The man is
cunning, strong, and tactical.  More than that, he knows without a doubt that
Adalind and I are betrothed yet he still went to you to try and convince you to
break our betrothal.  A man like this is not simply an annoyance; he is
dangerous because he will do anything he can to win.”

“You are threatened by him?”

“Worse - I understand him because I think the
same way.”

David watched Maddoc as the man spoke, noting
how deeply Maddoc was struggling to maintain his self-control. 

“So what do you propose?” David asked quietly.
“Will you do to him what you did to Walter de Burgh? You killed a man because
he was a threat to both you and Adalind. Is de Royans a threat as well?”

Maddoc averted his gaze. “Possibly,” he said. “I
will make all reasonable attempts to stay away from him, my lord, but if he
does not stay away from me and from Adalind, I will challenge him. I will not
tolerate his disrespectful or threatening behavior.”

“The man has not threatened you, Maddoc,” David
said. “He has not brandished a weapon or made threats of any kind.  Lad, you
simply cannot go around killing every man who has an eye for Adalind. She will
be your wife, men will look at her, and you will end up killing half of
England. You will be the Great Murdering Husband of Adalind de Aston du Bois
and all men will fear you as such. Would you truly shame the family in that
manner?”

He said it rather humorously, trying to break
Maddoc’s stiff stance, and it was a struggle for Maddoc not to crack a grin. 
He cast David a side-long glance.

“Then what would you suggest I do, my lord?” he
asked. “What would
you
do?”

David shrugged. “I would marry her immediately,”
he said without hesitation. “That would solve nearly every issue.  But I am not
so sure you are ready for such a thing. I think perhaps you like fighting off
would-be suitors and testing your strength against them.  I think there is
something about the flash of dark steel against warm flesh that excites your
inner animal.”