Unending Love (6 page)

Eynsford was on his feet now, looking genuinely
hurt. It was clear that the concept of rejection was foreign to him. A wealthy
lord’s spoiled son, he had always gotten what he wanted.
Always.
  He
began to look around the bailey.

“Your grandfather,” he said. “I will speak with
him. He will understand my proposal and consent.”

With a shriek, Adalind flew at him, pounding him
on his silk-covered chest before slapping him, hard, across the face. She was
so livid that she had lost her self-control. There happened to be a rather
large stick on the ground, debris from the storm they’d suffered two days before,
and she picked it up and swung it at him, catching him on the hip.

“Go!” she bellowed, smacking him with the stick
again. “Go away and never come back. I do not want to see you ever again, do
you hear me? Stop ignoring what I am saying. You will not speak with my
grandfather. You will
get out
!”

She punctuated the last two words by smacking
him again with the stick.  Eynsford flinched from the blows, startled by the
loud cracking sound more than he was actually hurt. The stick’s noise echoed
against the battlement walls. Adalind’s fury was working the desired effect; he
was backing away and heading towards the gatehouse.

“My lady, please,” he began to plead, trying to
dodge her flying stick. “You do not understand. I mean only the best and….”

She screamed with frustration as she swung the
stick, catching him on the shoulder. “Go!” she yelled. “I hate you, I hate you!
You have made my life miserable and horrid, and I hate you!”

She was chasing him now, violently swinging the
stick as he finally ran for his life.  Maddoc, who had stood by silently and
observant during the exchange, broke from his stance and went after her before
she could beat the man to death.  Coming up behind her as she swung, he grabbed
her around the torso with one big hand and grasped the wrist holding the stick
with the other.

“Enough, Addie,” he murmured, his lips by her
ear. “I will handle it from here.”

Adalind’s response was to burst into gut-busting
sobs. Concerned, Maddoc wasn’t sure what to do at that moment, so he did what
his instincts dictated – he hugged her tightly, briefly, and gently let her go,
pulling the stick out of her hand as he went.  By this time, Eynsford had
already collected his horse, which had never been formally stabled but merely
tied up, and was making a break for the gatehouse.  Maddoc really didn’t have
to do anything more than simply make sure the man left and the portcullis
closed behind him.  After that, his attention returned to Adalind.

Her mother and sister had come down from the
keep and had tried to comfort her as she stood sobbing in the middle of the
bailey, but she wanted no part of it.  She ran away from them and as they
watched her go, indecisive as to whether or not to follow her, Maddoc silently
indicated he would follow her to make sure she came to no harm. Willow wasn’t
so sure but Christina agreed, thinking that perhaps Adalind would find more
comfort in the attention of the man she had always been in love with rather
than her mother and sister. Something was coming to a head in her quiet and sad
daughter, something that perhaps family couldn’t help her with.  Maybe Maddoc
could.

It was just a hunch she had.

***

Maddoc found Adalind in the stables.  It hadn’t
been difficult; he had simply followed the sounds of her weeping. It was dark
in the stables with occasional sounds of a snorting horse or the meow of a cat.
The animals shifted listlessly when they sensed humans. Patiently, he made his
way back into the depths of the structure to find Adalind sitting in a storage
area where they kept piles of dried grass.  The smell of wood and hay was heavy
in the air. 

She was sitting against the wall, her back
turned to him, weeping softly.  Maddoc watched her for a moment, finding
himself thinking on that skinny little girl who used to drive him daft.  He’d
run from her, hid from her, when he’d never run or hid from anything in his
life. It had been rather embarrassing behavior from the serious young knight. But
somehow, she would always find him. She had popped up more than once when he
had been using the privy, something that had infuriate him at the time but now
brought a smile to his lips.  Adalind was, if nothing else, fearless and
persistent. But he didn’t see those qualities in her now and that concerned
him.

“My lady,” he said softly. “It is cold out here.
Would you permit me to escort you inside?”

Her back was still to him.  She wiped at her
face, sniffling.  “No,” she said after a moment. “I do not want to go inside
now. I simply wish to be left alone and if I go inside, my sister and mother
will hound me mercilessly. They mean well but I do not want their company right
now."

“Will you accept mine?”

The question hung in the air between them. 
Adalind’s tears faded as she thought on it. She’d known the man her entire life
and he’d asked her dozens of questions during that time. So why was this
question so different? She swore she heard something in the tone. It was soft
and hopeful.  But perhaps she was simply imagining there was anything more than
polite concern to the question.  She remembered earlier in the day when his
manner had abruptly changed as they had discussed suitors and marriage. 

Still, she felt such painful longing for the
man, more and more as the hours went by.  Since his return yesterday, she could
feel her emotions for him magnifying.  He was such a handsome, sweet,
compassionate and powerful man. She’d known him her whole life; she knew his
character. She was so far gone in love with him that it would surely ruin her
life.

“Maddoc?”

“Aye?”

“I have come to a decision.”

“What is that?”

She sniffled, wiped at her nose, and shifted so
she was facing him. She gazed up into that handsome face, feeling the tears at
her throat again, feeling more pain and sorrow than she’d ever known.

“I… I have decided to commit myself to the cloister,”
she said. “It is the only alternative, you see, for I shall never marry. My
grandfather and grandmother are great patrons of Canterbury Cathedral, so it
would be a simple thing to join the Augustine order there. I have been familiar
with it all of my life.  Besides, if I join the order at the cathedral, I will
still be close to home.”

Maddoc gazed down into her sad face. “This is
the first time I have heard you express any interest in joining the cloister.”

She shrugged. “Perhaps it is the first time I
have spoken of it,” she said. “But I have been thinking of it for a while, I
truly have. It is not a new idea to me.”

He looked at her thoughtfully.  Then, he took a
few steps and lowered his bulk down next to her.  Sitting side by side, leaning
up against the wall, they gazed at each other.  It was the first time Maddoc
could remember that he openly inspected her, as purely a man to a woman, noting
the slight tilt of her lovely eyes and the dusting of freckles across her nose.
She had such beautiful skin, so creamy and smooth. She was the most spectacular
woman he had ever seen.

“When you were about eight or nine years of age,
you first declared that you were deeply in love with me,” he said softly.  “I
was very young, newly knighted, and ignored you for the most part, so you hid
under my bed in the knight’s quarters.  I think you were waiting there to
murder me in my sleep. Do you recall?”

Adalind fought off a grin, averting her gaze. “I
do.”

“Do you recall that it was a safe haven until I
lay upon the bed and the mattress sank?”

She was struggling not to giggle. “You nearly
squashed me between the floor and the mattress.”

His grin broke through. “Thank God you had the
presence of mind to yell before I smothered you.”

She started to laugh. “I nearly passed out.”

He was starting to laugh now, too. “It would
have served you right, you pint-sized assassin.”

Her laughter deepened. “I think I
was
going to kill you, after all, but as I thought on it, I would miss you too
much. Perhaps I was just going to make your life miserable for a while. I
believe I succeeded, too.”

He shook his head. “You never made me miserable.
Frustrated at times, but never miserable. You were too sweet to make me truly
miserable.”

Her smile faded, hearing tender words from his
mouth that she could have easily believed to have been romantic rather than
simply kind.  Maddoc had always had a soft spot for the girls in the family,
showing more compassion and understanding than most. But he only let a select
few see that side of him.  Adalind had always been one of them in spite of her
annoying presence at times.  

As she gazed back at him, her heart swelled so
that she thought it might burst from her chest and words of longing and
adoration came to her lips, but she bit them off and looked away.  She couldn’t
stomach to look upon the man and not tell him what was in her heart. He didn’t
want to hear it, anyway.

“You were patient to tolerate a young girl who
gazed upon you with stars in her eyes,” she said softly. “I always appreciated
your kindness and your discretion for not telling my mother half of the things
that I did in my quest to conquer you.”

He was looking at her lowered head, her dark
blond hair, resisting the urge to reach out and stroke the silken strands.

“I hardly recall any of it,” he said quietly.
“It seems that fostering has taken the edge off of your rebel spirit.  You have
returned to Canterbury refined and proper. Why put all of that time and effort
to waste at a convent?”

Adalind shook her head faintly, her gaze on the
straw-covered floor.  “It would not be a waste,” she murmured. “Maddoc, where
did you foster?”

“Northwood Castle in Northumberland. It is one
of the great border castles in the north.”

“Did you like it? Did you make any friends there?”

“I made many friends. They are like my
brothers.”

She sighed. “That is what I had hoped for as
well,” she muttered. “But I found little companionship when I fostered, only
jealousy and evil. I simply wanted to belong. I hope that the nuns would not be
so judgmental or wicked. Perhaps… perhaps I would finally found where I
belonged with them.”

“Is that what you truly want? Simply to belong
somewhere?”

She grew frustrated. “You make it sound as if I
wish for something foolish or trite,” she said, snappish, and attempted to
stand. “It is easy for you to ask that question because you belong here, or
with your friends at Northwood. Maddoc, I have not been home in five years. It
is not even my home anymore; it is simply a place where my family lives. I
suppose Winchester Palace was my home, but I did not belong there, either. The
people there, people who were supposed to be my friends, were cruel as you can
imagine. I feel as if I live nowhere or have no one. Ever since I returned to
Canterbury, I have this feeling of drifting and awkwardness.”

He reached up and grasped her wrist before she
could get away. “I am sorry,” he said gently, soothingly. “I did not mean to
sound judgmental. I would never presume to do that. Please do not leave.”

She tried to yank away but she didn’t give it a
very good effort.  Eventually, she plopped back down onto her buttocks but she
wouldn’t look at him.  He continued to hold on to her wrist, fearful she was
going to try to get away again.  He studied her profile, wondering where all of
these strangely warm feelings for her were coming from. Since they had gotten
reacquainted yesterday, that spark of surprise he had experienced when he had
first seen her was morphing into something different. He’d never experienced
anything like it.  All he knew was that he didn’t want her to leave.

“Addie,” he said in a low, soft voice. “This is
your home. You will always belong here with people that love you.  In that
respect, I am very envious of that because the only family I have is in Wales
or in France. I was raised by my grandmother and my uncle, and went to foster
when I was ten years of age.  When I was seventeen, I found out that my father,
who I believed had been killed when I was a child, was in fact alive and living
in France. Although I am now close with my father and step-mother, the truth is
that I only came to know them as an adult. I do not have fond or happy memories
of my childhood with them. Even if you feel as if you do not belong at
Canterbury, the truth is that you have a family that loves you a great deal and
you do indeed belong with them.  You are very much loved and cherished.”

Adalind was still staring at the ground.  When
she was finished, she reached down and picked at a piece of straw off the hem
of her surcoat.  Her manner was sad, fidgety.

“I know they love me,” she said, almost
guiltily, “but I… oh, I do not know what more to say. I feel as if I want to
run away from the world and hide.”

“So that is why you want to join the cloister?
Because you want to hide?”

She simply nodded. After a moment, he saw a tear
roll down her face and drip off her chin.   His manner softened.