The Knight and the Dove

  “Megan, there you are. Is everything all right?”

  “I don’t know,” Megan admitted, her eyes now on the older woman.

  “You spoke with Bracken?”

  “Yes, and he was kind, but he looked at me so oddly.”

  “Oh?” Louisa’s interest was piqued. “How so?”

  “He stared at my mouth as though something were amiss. It’s not the first time, either. And then he seemed in a great hurry to be away.”

  Louisa could hardly believe such innocence, but she knew it to be all too real. She debated telling Megan what Bracken’s actions meant but changed her mind. He was going to have to win this woman on his own. Louisa had enjoyed a long talk with Brice and quite agreed with him. It was true that court manners came easier to Stephen, but Brice was right in saying Bracken had no excuse; it was his duty to do all he could to win Megan’s heart.

  “What am I to do?”

  “Do not let it worry you, dear. Men can, at times, be complex creatures. I’m sure there was nothing wrong.”

  Megan nodded. She might have questioned Louisa, but in truth she didn’t even know what to ask. Would it be easier when Bracken and she were husband and wife? Megan could only hope so. The reality of their wedding seemed to press in on her with more insistence every day.

  Megan walked into the great hall three days later and knew instantly that something was amiss. There had been two groups of servants speaking quietly among themselves as they worked, but after spotting Megan, all seven women closed their mouths and transferred their gazes to the floor.

  Megan would normally have given this little thought, but it had been happening all day. By evening she was fed up.

  “Helga,” she spoke to her personal maid, the first woman to have helped her at Hawkings Crest. “What is going on?”

  “Going on, my lady?” Helga’s eyes were wide with apprehension, and Megan knew she had come to the right woman.

  “Yes,” she replied, her voice changing to that of gentle persuasion. “It seems that there is news afoot—news that concerns me. I would only wish to hear of it.”

  Helga relaxed. She should have known her lady would just desire to understand. After all, Helga reminded herself, it is just gossip. Lady Megan would surely not take heed.

  “Helga?” Megan brought her back to the matter.

  “There are rumors, my lady, that Lord Bracken has gone to see Black Francesca.” Helga barely kept herself from smiling. She knew her lady would laugh any minute at the joke of it all, and then she would be free to join her.

  “Black Francesca?” Megan had gone utterly still.

  “Yes, my lady.” Helga became concerned for the first time. “All servants gossip, and those at Hawkings Crest are no different.”

  Megan nodded, her face still serene but her eyes cold. “I won’t be turning in just now, Helga. I’ll send for you later.”

  Helga stood and wrung her hands after Megan left. If the look in her eyes had been any indication, Lord Bracken would be gaining a visit, and soon.

  “Did you see her?” Megan asked the moment she stepped into the war room, completely ignoring the men surrounding Bracken.

  “See who, Megan?” Bracken asked, but he knew the answer.

  “Have you been to visit Black Francesca?”

  Bracken was very aware of his men. He knew they would have exited, but Megan stood between the group and the door, arms akimbo, her eyes flashing with rage.

  Bracken wanted a wife and a lady to keep his home, but he was not going to let anyone monitor his every move. As much as he cared for Megan and truly thought he was coming to love her, he would not let her rule his life.

  “Am I to check with you, Megan, before going to the village?” Bracken’s voice said that her answer was only of mild interest to him.

  “You do not answer my question, so I must assume you are guilty.

  “Guilty?” Bracken’s chuckle was sincere. “Nay, Megan. I have been to see Francesca, but no guilt rests on my head.”

  Megan’s face flushed with temper. She walked until she stood before Bracken, her eyes so angry and hurt that Bracken had to harden his heart to bear it. When she moved, the men filed out so that when she spoke again they were alone.

  “I will not marry you.”

  Bracken didn’t so much as lift a brow. “We will wed, Megan,” he spoke with surety.

  “Never,” she hissed. “I have saved myself for this time, but to you it is no worthy thing. I will not marry a man who would take our vows so lightly.”

  Bracken shook his head, thinking that if Megan didn’t find her place she would be miserable.

  “We will wed, Megan,” was all he said.

  Megan shook her head vehemently, causing red curls to swirl around her shoulders. “I will not stay here, and I will certainly not be joined to you.” There was such loathing in her voice that Bracken grew angry.

  “Stop this childishness, Megan. I tell you we will be wed.”

  Megan’s laughter was harsh. “I am no child, Bracken, but a woman capable beyond your imagination. It is too bad that you will never understand all that you have lost.”

  On this cryptic statement Megan spun and headed to the door. Bracken didn’t move, but his fist clenched in frustration. It had seemed for a few days that things were softening between them, but right now those days seemed weeks past. As hard as that was to bear, Bracken’s greatest hurt was that Megan would think him capable of such an act in the first place.

  Thirteen

  BY MIDMORNING OF THE FOLLOWING DAY, Megan was miles away from Hawkings Crest. She had learned through her escapes from the abbey that there was no time like the present, and so she had left less than an hour after her confrontation with Bracken. She had left Helga with the strictest of orders for the night, and even the next few days, but Megan sincerely doubted that anyone would truly miss her, at least not for a time.

  It had not been all that difficult to escape the castle walls, but that would not have been the case if she had waited until after dark or until the following morning to leave.

  Her night had been a long one. Megan was feeling the effects now, but she trudged on just the same. Sometime before dawn she had lain down and slept, but it was nothing whatsoever like a full night in her own bed. She stopped now and tried to gauge her whereabouts but found she was a bit disoriented.

  The night her men were attacked suddenly flashed through her mind, but oddly enough she did not feel fearful. In many ways Megan felt safer on her own than she had with her guard; she was free to hide in caves or climb trees for protection. Over the years she had encountered the occasional boar or other fierce creature, but nothing that ever gave her more trouble than she could handle.

  As the sun rose high in the sky, Megan’s stomach roared. She found shade at that point and pulled some bread and cheese from the sack on her back. She ate ravenously and then searched for a stream. It took longer than she would have liked and put her somewhat out of the way, but the opportunity to slack her thirst was worth every step.

  Megan was just returning to the road when she spotted the peddlers. It took less than a heartbeat’s time to see that it was Elias and his band—the same men who had rescued her weeks before. Megan debated stepping out into the road and asking for help, but before she could decide, they stopped. Megan froze in order to listen and watch from her place in the trees.

  “What is it, Elias?” one man asked.

  The bearded peddler didn’t answer. His gaze swept the trees opposite Megan before he turned and seemed to stare right at her.

  “Who’s there?” Elias called.

  Megan didn’t answer.

  “Come out,” he continued kindly. “We won’t harm you.”

  Megan debated only a moment more before going into action. She drew her ragged cape up over her head, made sure the bag of food on her back was in the proper “hump” position, bent over her walking stick, and moved slowly from the trees.

  “It’s an old humpback
woman,” Megan heard one say as she squinted up at them. Her mouth turned back into a snarl that beautifully portrayed the dark beans she’d pushed over two teeth. They gave the impression of teeth missing as well as darkening her saliva, making it look as if her whole mouth were rotted.

  “I ain’t an old woman,” Megan spat, putting on her best cockney tone and glaring at the men. “Whatcha sellin’?”

  “Are you hoping to buy?” This came from Elias, and Megan could hear the amusement in his tone.

  “I ain’t got no coin,” she snorted.

  “Where are you headed?” another man questioned.

  “The abbey at Stone Lake, you nosy scoundrel. Can’t a lady have no privacy?” Megan gave a loud cackle at her own joke, and the men joined in.

  “We’re not going as far as Stone Lake, but we’re going to The Crossings. Come,” Elias spoke, “ride awhile.”

  Megan scowled at them. Her feet did hurt.

  “I don’t care to be badgered with talk for miles,” she growled at them, but she was already moving in a painful gait to the wagon. Most of the men made no effort to hide their amusement, but Megan only limped her way to the back and allowed one of them to take her upper arm and help her aboard.

  “Well, you’re not starved, are ya?” he said, and Megan pulled her arm away.

  “Don’t be givin’ me none o’ your cheek. I’ll take myself right back down, and you’ll be a missin’ the pleasure o’ my company.”

  This brought a round of laughter from the men, but the horse was prodded into motion and they proceeded down the road. Megan told herself to say alert, but it wasn’t possible. The ride was hot, dusty, and bumpy, and after very little sleep the night before, she couldn’t stay awake. Within the hour her head was draped over a bag of rags while sleep wandered in and out.

  They didn’t make The Crossings by nightfall, but that was just as well for Megan. She had never intended to go that far. The Crossings was on the way to Stone Lake, but it was faster to go through the woods in order to gain the abbey.

  The peddlers had paid her little heed throughout the journey but when they camped that night, she was made welcome at their fire and to their food. No one was the wiser as to her identity until Megan shuffled off into the woods for privacy. Elias, whose hearing was as keen as that of a fox, heard her shuffling gait turn to easy steps when she found the darkness of the trees.

  He waited until she returned and they both had food before he approached. It was the first time he had come close to her. His suspicions were confirmed immediately, but that didn’t stop the amazement at his findings.

  Megan didn’t really mind his sitting near her but simply turned her face into the shadows, the hood still hiding her face, and tried to chew with her back teeth only

  “I must say, my lady,” Elias began, his voice almost too soft to hear. “You’re one of the best I’ve ever seen.”

  Megan froze and then turned to look at him.

  “How did you know?” The accent was gone; her voice was hushed.

  “Your walk in the woods alerted me, and then if may say so, my lady, there is no disguising the smell of your hair.”

  Megan transferred her gaze to the woods, and Elias stared at her profile. It was incredible. He couldn’t see it now, but he remembered the gray cast to her skin when she’d come from the woods. That, along with the rotted teeth, rat’s nest hair and hump on her back, caused Elias not to give her a second thought, but now, since he knew how she normally looked, this transformation was astonishing to the man.

  “Do the others know?” Megan asked suddenly.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “And what,” Megan went on, her voice still hushed, “will you tell the riders who overtake you? Have you seen the red-haired maid, whose father is lord of Stone Lake Castle and whose betrothed lives within the wall of Hawkings Crest?”

  “I have seen no such woman,” Elias told her as he transferred his gaze to the fire. “We gave an old humpback woman a ride, nothing more.”

  He heard Megan’s sigh of relief and would have given up half his cart to know why she ran. But this was not his place. A peddler did not ask a lady, no matter how she was dressed, where she was going and why.

  “Thank you, Elias,” Megan whispered just before one of the men joined them.

  Megan turned away, thinking she would have liked to tell him that she hoped he would trade at Hawkings Crest often, but then she reminded herself that she would not be there and wondered over the sadness that filled her on such a thought.

  The night was uneventful, and early in the morning Megan thanked the men, made them laugh, and parted from the group. She had a friend in the forest who took her the rest of the way on horseback, and she was at the abbey just hours later.

  The food on Bracken’s trencher was a delight to the senses, but he gave little notice. His eyes were on the staircase as he anticipated Megan’s arrival with every breath, but she did not appear. It had been 48 hours since their quarrel, and he had not seen her once. He felt this pouting was ridiculous, but he was not going to search her out and say so. It was apparent to him that Megan needed to do a little growing up, and he refused to coddle her in this situation.

  “Will you go to her, Bracken?”

  “No.” He turned then to look at his aunt. He picked up a piece of meat and chewed silently.

  “What if she really isn’t feeling well?”

  Bracken snorted. “Is that what she is telling you?”

  “Well, Helga is.”

  Bracken stared at her. “You mean you haven’t seen Megan?”

  “No,” Louisa admitted. “Helga’s been taking her food, and when I’ve gone to the door she says that Megan has asked not to be disturbed.”

  Bracken shook his head in disgust. It was worse than he feared. This was not brooding, but an out-and-out sulk, and Bracken could think of nothing more aggravating. She was clearly taking her childish tantrum out on the whole castle.

  Bracken suddenly dug into his food. Watching him, Louisa knew the reason. She would have put money on the fact that he was going to confront Megan as soon as he’d had his fill.

  Not five minutes after Bracken was done with the meal, he nodded to the family members at the table and made for the stairs. Helga, sitting inside Megan’s bedchamber and trying not to be nervous, jumped at his knock.

  “Lord Bracken,” she said respectfully, opening the door just enough to peek out.

  “I wish to see Lady Megan,” Bracken stated.

  Helga nervously cleared her throat. It was one thing to tell Lady Louisa that Lady Megan was ill and wished to see no one, but Lord Bracken was another matter.

  “Is there some problem?” Bracken’s voice was not loud or even overly stern, but Helga couldn’t take it.

  “I’m sorry, my lord,” she cried. “I was just doing as I was told.”

  It took a moment for Bracken to comprehend the full import of her words, and Helga scrambled away just in time as he reached to push the door open wide. Angry, disbelieving eyes took in the perfectly made-up bed, the wall hangings, and the cold fireplace. All was intact, telling him Megan had traveled light. The room felt as lifeless as a tomb.

  Bracken turned to Helga then, who was white-faced with fright, and he saw in an instant that he could not place Megan’s foolhardiness on this servant. As she said, she was doing as commanded. Bracken came to this resolve in a split second and now spoke like a calm warrior going into battle.

  “How long has she been gone?”

  “Two days, my lord.”

  Bracken nodded, looking preoccupied.

  “The morning after we quarreled no doubt.” The words were said more to himself than anyone, but Helga answered anyhow.

  “No, my lord. She left right away.”

  Bracken frowned. “You mean that very night?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “She’s been gone 48 hours then.” Bracken was utterly aghast, and fearful for the first time.

  ??
?Yes, my lord,” Helga said unnecessarily.

  “Did she say where she was headed?”

  “No, my lord, I swear, she didn’t say.”

  Bracken stayed within the chamber only a moment more before turning and striding out the door and down the main stairs. He was not a man to lose his head, but he was halfway to the stables before he realized it was much too dark to search that night.

  “What is it, Bracken?” Brice had followed him without.

  Bracken sighed. “Megan has left.”

  “The castle?”

  “Yes.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes, and it’s too dark to search tonight.”

  “You mean she’s left no word of her whereabouts?” Brice was feeling more amazed and frightened by the second.

  “No, but I’m certain she headed home. I don’t think she ever wanted to leave there—she implied as much—so I’m sure she’s made for Stone Lake.”

  “I’ll go with you, Bracken.” This came from Louisa, who had just joined the men.

  “You knew she was gone?” Bracken frowned.

  “No, but when you gained the great hall in such a hurry I went to Helga myself. I take it we leave in the morning?”

  “That is my plan, Aunt Lou, but I must have you remain here.”

  “But Bracken,” the older woman’s face was distressed, “when you return she will need an escort.”

  Bracken couldn’t stop his snort of disgust. “She has no doubt traveled all the way to Stone Lake without a single thought for propriety; an escort won’t matter now.”

  Bracken finally looked at Louisa in the gathering dusk. Her hurt face reminded him of his tone. With hands gently on her upper arms, he spoke again.

  “In truth, Aunt Lou, we will be riding hard. I would like you to come along, but I do not wish to put you through that.”

  “But you will bring her back?”

  “Have no doubt of it. Megan has not resigned herself to this marriage, but King Henry ordered it and her father did the choosing. Megan is mine, and I will return her to Hawkings Crest.”