Candace C. Bowen - Knight Series 03 (4 page)

Different scenarios played out in his mind to halt the wedding, yet all ended the same way. Shame and disgrace for Mylla, her family’s downfall, and his death. He briefly toyed with the idea of asking his liege to intercede on his behalf by speaking to King Henry. In truth, his liege was out of favor at court. Still even the king could not forget how Fulke had saved his life at the Battle of Bremule in Normandy. It was the day Fulke had earned his knighthood. A glimmer of hope filled Talan before he recalled his own personal encounter with King Henry. Having escorted Lady Reina to court, he stood as her voice when she had a private audience with the king. Recalling King Henry’s instant dislike toward him, he lowered his head in defeat. The king may have a soft spot for Fulke, but it did not extend to his men. For the first time in his life he would be forced to break his word.

Determined to put on a brave face for Mylla, he withdrew his dagger from its sheath and headed to the bathing chamber to shave. 

†

Mylla woke to the sound of her mother opening the slatted shutters. She blinked against the early spring sunshine pouring into her chamber. Tired after a sleepless night, she rolled over to bury her head beneath her reed and feather stuffed pillow.

Emmaline perched on the edge of the bed to pull the pillow away. “It is time to rise and face the day, daughter.”

Mylla reluctantly sat up. “Better this day than the morrow. At least today I shall get to see Talan.”

“La-La.” Emmaline used Mylla’s childhood nickname. “That is what I have come to speak to you about.”

Mylla’s heart sank when she noticed her mother’s tear-swollen eyes. “Father believed Edmund, did he not? He has forbidden me to say adieu to Talan.”

“La-La...”

“Tell me I am wrong.” Tears filled Mylla’s eyes.  

“Your father has set no store in Edmund’s hasty words,” Emmaline assured her. “It is only that the clerk will be arriving today after lauds to prepare us for the justice’s arrival on the morrow. Since you and Talan cannot conceal your feelings for one another, he believes it would be taking a risk were the clerk to witness you in Sir Talan’s presence.”

“So not only are we denied one another, we are now forbidden a final farewell.”

“You must under—”

“I understand all too well.” Mylla leapt from the bed nearly tripping on the hem of her cream linen nightgown. “I understand that my heart will break the moment I am married to the justice.” Tears flowed unchecked down Mylla’s cheeks. “It is not fair.”

“La-La.” Emmaline stood to wrap her arms around her daughter. “Life is often unfair, especially for women.”

“I shall never see Talan again,” Mylla wept. “How can father be so cruel?”

“Your father is a man of great responsibilities,” Emmaline soothed. “The situation weighs heavily upon him.”

“I wish I had been born a man,” Mylla sniffed.

“Then blame me for the fact that you were not. After so many sons, I prayed to God for a daughter such as you.” Emmaline patted Mylla’s back. “If I could bear the heartache for you, I would.”

Surrendering to her feelings of despair, Mylla’s hands snaked around her mother’s slender waist.

†

Displeased by Leofrick’s drunken state on his arrival home the night before, Sheriff Richard ordered him to bed without supper. Having passed out at the base of the ladder leading to the loft, he woke in the morning with a splitting headache and an urgent need to urinate. On his way to apologize to his parents, he paused when he heard Mylla speaking to their mother. His jaw tensed as he fought the urge to put a fist through the wood paneling at the unfairness of it all. The sheriff’s livelihood was not the only thing dependent on the realm. Were they to displease the king or his powerful connections, the family would find themselves without a home.

Leofrick stormed past the dining chamber where his father sat breaking his fast with Frederick, Caine, and Edmund. Ignoring his father’s call to join them, he stormed outside. Headed to the inn, his angry strides swallowed up the cobbles. The task had inadvertently fallen to him to break the latest bit of unpleasant news to Talan.

At a loss for words to lessen Talan’s pain, he stood outside The Wounded Stag with his gaze fixed on the wood tavern sign depicting a bleeding stag with an arrow shot through its haunch.

“Can I be of assist to you, Mister Leofrick?”

Shaken from his musings, Leofrick swung around to find the inn’s young stable boy, Joseph. “Is Sir Talan within, lad?”

“I believe so.” Joseph gestured with a grubby hand to the stables he tended across the road. “His horse is still within the marshalsea.”    

“My thanks.” Tossing the grateful boy a coin, he straightened his shoulders with firm resolve and entered the inn.

“Sir Talan has yet to break his fast this morn, and I do not expect him anytime soon.” Winifred approached from the back of the tavern. “In truth, I am amazed to see you here.”

“I would rather be anywhere than here right now, Winifred.” Leofrick glanced at the steps leading to the upper level.

“Lady Lecie made mention of your sister’s impending troubles.” Winifred lowered her voice. “I had so hoped Sir Talan would see the matter favorably resolved.”

“There is very little Sir Talan can do. For that matter, I am afraid there is very little anyone can do.”

“I am aggrieved to hear it. I shall keep them both in my prayers.”

“Thank you.” Leofrick looked resigned. “I had better have a word with my friend.”

Taking the steps two at a time, Leofrick paused in front of Talan’s chamber door. He took a deep breath for courage prior to knocking.

Talan looked resigned when he eventually answered the knock.

Leofrick’s eyes widened at the sight of his friend. “You shaved off your beard.”

“If I cannot act the man, I may as well not play the part of one.” Fingering his clean-shaven jaw, Talan stepped back to allow Leofrick to enter. “No longer shall I be considered a virile man amongst my peers, not that Fulke ever gave credence to such nonsense.”

“Surely you jest?”

“In this instance, aye, I do jest.” Talan shrugged. “It sounded better than the truth.”

“Which is?”

“My hand was less than steady with the blade this morn so I had no choice.” Talan crossed his arms. “It appears you have more on your mind than my appearance. Has the justice arrived earlier than expected?”

“Nay, he is still to arrive on the morrow.”

“Then I am barred from bidding adieu to Mylla, is that it?”

“My father feels it best under the circumstances,” Leofrick said. “I am sorry for it, Talan.”

“I suppose it is for the best.” Raking his hands roughly through his tousled hair, Talan crossed to the window. “I honestly do not think I could bid a final farewell to her.”

“If you have a message for her, I would gladly convey it.”

“Please tell her I am sorry that I have failed her.” Talan watched the rising sun without seeing it. “And tell her, I will love her until I cease to draw breath, even beyond that if it is truly possible.”

Chapter Four

Leofrick softly pulled Mylla’s chamber door closed and turned to their mother who was waiting for him in the passageway. “I conveyed Talan’s message.”

“Should I go to her?” Lightly clasping Leofrick’s forearm, Emmaline searched his sad blue eyes.

“Nay, mother.” Leofrick shook his head. “Soon enough she will not have you to comfort her.”

“Then she will have no one.”

†

Mylla wept until there were no more tears left in her. Ignoring a light rapping on her door, she dutifully sat up when her father entered.

Lightly clearing his throat, he began to pace the floorboards. “Mylla, I know how you feel about being wed to the justice. I also know the depth of your feelings for Sir Talan. What you should know is that men and women are oftentimes beholden at one time or another in their lives to make sacrifices.”

“Aye, Da.” Tears slipped down Mylla’s cheeks.

“Your mother’s and my union was arranged yet we have found happiness together.” Her father’s pace slowed. “What I am trying to say is that the justice is a man of great influence, you shall want for nothing. A father could ask for no more in a suitor when it comes to his only daughter.” Stopping altogether, he faced her. “It is my greatest hope that in time you will find a small measure of happiness in your union.” A look of anguish crossed her father’s craggy features. “La-La, if there were any other way—”

“I know there is not,” Mylla softly interrupted him. “I shall do my best to make you and mother proud.”

Tipping Mylla’s chin up with his forefinger, her father gently kissed her forehead. “Find happiness in your future children. It is they who will bring joy to your life.”

†

Mylla was fumbling with the side lacings on her finest green brocade kirtle when her mother’s maidservant, Cristine, knocked timidly on the door. “May I be of assist to you, Mistress Mylla?”

“Please, Cristine.” On the verge of tears, Mylla dragged her hair over her shoulder. “I fear my fingers are not cooperating with me this day.”

“Your mother sent me for you.” Cristine deftly worked the lacings on Mylla’s gown. “The justice’s clerk is waiting to greet you in the solar.” 

Mylla knew Cristine had become more than a maidservant to her mother over the years, they had become close friends. On impulse, she embraced the elder woman. “Please tell mother I will be fine. I am her daughter after all.”

“It will be a comfort for her to hear it,” Cristine said.  

“I shall miss you, Cristine.” Mylla straightened to her full height with a fixed smile. “Shall we go below? I am as ready as I will ever be.” Leading the way, Mylla heard masculine voices coming from the solar. With an encouraging look from Cristine, she entered. 

Her father stood to greet her while his younger male guest quickly followed suit. Dressed all in black bearing the embroidered insignia of the realm’s lord justice on his surcoat, the man’s fingertips were permanently stained by the ink he used.

Recognizing the wiry red-haired clerk, Mylla remained aloof.  

“Tis a pleasure to see you again, Mistress Mylla,” the clerk said with a slight smile. “Though we were not formally introduced, we were in the other’s company once afore.”

“Actually, I believe we have encountered each other twice prior,” Mylla corrected him. “Once was at the village fair, and the other occasion at the trial of my dearest friend.”

“I am flattered that you remember me.” The clerk dipped his head. “I trust your friend has suffered no lasting effects from the unfortunate incident involving the justice?”

“Not only did Lecie survive her acquaintance with your employer, she has thrived in the time since,” Mylla said. “She and Sir Albin are expecting their first child soon.”

“It pleases me greatly to hear it.”

“Mylla,” her father said. “Chaucey has been recording the details of your dowaire for Justice de Glanville—”

Chaucey cleared his throat loudly. “Begging your pardon, Sheriff Richard, the justice would not approve of you sharing financial matters with a female.”

“The justice has not yet wed my daughter.” The sheriff’s tone was harsh. “Whilst she remains in my care, and I choose to share something with her, it remains my right to do so.”

“I meant no offense.” Chaucey lowered his eyes.

“Da, I am sure you were more than generous on my behalf,” Mylla said. “The details do not at all matter to me.”

“I see I have timed my arrival perfectly.” Leofrick entered with a grin. “Mother has sent me to summon you all to dine.”

“I had not realized how late it has become.” The sheriff stood to present his arm to Mylla. “We shall discuss the matter further after the meal.”

Leofrick fell into step beside Chaucey. “What say I stand you a pint or two at the tavern after supper?”

“The justice does not approve of my imbibing spirits in public houses. Thank you all the same, Mister Leofrick.”

“There is no mister about me.” Leofrick wrapped his arm around Chaucey’s bowed shoulders. “You and I are friends now so you can call me Leofrick, or Leo if you prefer.”

“I do not have any friends.” Drawing his bottom lip between his overlapping teeth, Chaucey appeared uncertain. 

“Well you have a friend now.” Leofrick pressed his advantage. “I warrant the justice would not begrudge you a pint after all you do for him.”

“I would beg to differ,” Chaucey said. “The justice does not approve of my being social.”

“It saddens me to hear how unjustly you are treated.” Leofrick shook his head. “The justice should appreciate all you do for him.”

“I consider myself fortunate to have such an illustrious position,” Chaucey hedged. 

“Are you given leisure time to enjoy yourself?”

“On occasion, I am afforded time to myself when the justice is called upon to attend celebratory events at the palace.”

“If you have not noticed, you are fortunate to have some leisure time to yourself right now.” Leofrick proceeded to clinch the deal. “Being one of your hosts, I have a duty to see to your welfare. I would be remiss if I did not provide you with some sort of amusement.”

“I suppose one cup of ale could not hurt,” Chaucey said, “if the justice were to remain unaware of it.”

“My lips will remain forever sealed.” Leofrick clapped the

slighter man on the shoulder nearly knocking him over.

Taking their places at the table, the meal consisting of roasted meat and vegetables commenced with mild social banter. 

To ascertain what kind of man his daughter would be marrying, Sheriff Richard would occasionally ply Chaucey with questions about the justice. For his part, Chaucey evaded the more personal questions. Keeping the conversation on safer grounds, he spoke about the life of leisure Mylla could expect.

Noticing Mylla’s persisting melancholy, Chaucey made another attempt to cheer her. “Have you ever been to court, Mistress Mylla?”

Surprised to be directly called upon, Mylla looked up from her untouched platter. “I have not.”

“After your marriage you will come to know its delights quite well,” Chaucey said.

“The justice’s London residence is only a short carriage ride from the palace.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” Mylla murmured.

“There is no finer place than Westminster Palace,” Chaucey went on. “The king often has feasts, and all kinds of entertainment are provided for the nobles in residence. Are you partial to troubadours?”

“I have only had the pleasure of listening to a few in my time,” Mylla said. “They were traveling troubadours who came to Rochester for the annual harvest festivals.”

“Traveling troubadours cannot compare to the storytellers our good King Henry keeps in residence,” Chaucey said. “They are well versed in all current happenings and court gossip.”

“I am not at all familiar with idle gossip.”

“Oh, you will be.” Chaucey raised his cup to toast her. “Indeed. There will be no end to the goings-on you will have privy to once you are the justice’s wife. He will nevertheless expect your total discretion. Whereas the justice enjoys listening to gossip, he does not abide being the subject of it.”

“How very duplicitous of him,” Mylla observed.

Sheriff Richard coughed lightly in warning.

Falling silent, Mylla again studied her food.

The meal progressed with Chaucey droning on about court life. The longer he spoke, the more sullen Mylla appeared.     

When the topic turned to how many gowns his sister could look forward to having, Leofrick casually interjected his plans to visit the tavern after supper. Inviting Frederick and Caine to join them for a drink, he purposefully overlooked Edmund.

Sensing Leofrick was up to something, Edmund studied Leofrick’s cocky demeanor. “I would not mind joining you for a pint, brother.”

“Then tis a pity you are not invited,” Leofrick said. “I have seen enough of your dour countenance for one day.”

Edmund remained silent when he caught his father’s warning look. Angrily stuffing his mouth with a piece of meat, he swallowed too soon and began to choke. He coughed raggedly until he managed to dislodge the obstruction. His face a mottled red, he glared his anger at Leofrick.

“You need to take smaller bites.” Frederick belatedly reached over to thump his brother soundly on the back.

Leofrick passed Edmund his cup of ale. “Best make sure you swallow it down lest you choke to death in front of our guest.”

The meal resumed in an uncomfortable silence until Chaucey excused himself to use the garderobe located at the back of the manor.

“Are you mad, Leofrick?” Edmund hissed the moment the family was left alone. “Talan has yet to leave the village. If Chaucey sees him at the tavern and reports back to the justice—”

“Ease up, Edmund,” Leofrick whispered. “Talan is more honorable than you give him credit for. He gave his word he will abide by father’s wishes to stay away, and I would wager my life that he will.”

“Then what game do you play at with the clerk?”

“Chaucey has the ability at allay our fears where Mylla is concerned,” Leofrick said. “I merely would like to know what kind of man the justice is afore we blindly hand her over to him.”

“So what are you planning to do?” Edmund appeared skeptical. “Ply him with drink until he begins to spill the justice’s secrets?”

“Do you have a better idea?” Leofrick cocked a blond eyebrow.

“I believe Leofrick’s plan is sound,” Emmaline said, lightly touching her husband’s sleeve. “My mind would rest easier if we knew more about the justice’s character.”

“I do not see there being any harm in it.” Richard shifted to address Leofrick. “Be discreet.”

“He shan’t suspect a thing, Da.”

“Tell me this, Leo.” Edmund gripped his cup with white knuckles. “What if the news the clerk has to impart is not something you wish to hear? What could you possibly do about it? What can any of us do?”

Leofrick was spared from replying by Chaucey’s return.  

Declining Leofrick’s invitation, Frederick and Caine remained behind with the family.

Still seething with anger at Edmund, Leofrick did his best to conceal it from Chaucey when bidding his family a good evening. 

It was well after dark when the pair approached the tavern. His step slowing, Chaucey muttered to himself, “One drink will do no harm.”

Glad for the cover of darkness, Leofrick grinned. 

After supper had been served the tavern’s crowd had thinned considerably. His eyes scanning the common room for any sight of Talan, Leofrick selected a table beside the hearth. Within sight of the steps leading to the guest chambers, he sat with his back to the wall.

Smoothing the curls of her ash-blonde hair away from her face, Anne hastened from the back to serve them. Her pace slowed when she recognized the justice’s steward. “Will you be joining us for supper this eve, Mister Leofrick? Winifred has some vegetable stew left in the cookpot.”

“No thank you, Anne. My friend Chaucey here and I have already supped with my family.” Leofrick’s brows drew together in concern. “Are you not faring well? You do not seem your usual cheery self this eve.”

“Mary and I have been a tad melancholy since the children departed for Hitchin. The twins and Master Clayton are bound to be unrecognizable the next we see them.” Childless themselves, the women had bonded with Lecie’s siblings since being employed by Albin.

“I am sure they miss you both,” Leofrick soothed. “Mayhap it shan’t be too long afore they return for a visit.”  

“Though we are parted, we are grateful that Lecie lives to look after them.” Her eyes narrowed on Chaucey. “I shall fetch you both a cup of ale.” 

“It appears I am not well liked in Rochester,” Chaucey said.

“Take no offense.” Leaning back in his seat, Leofrick stretched out his long legs. “Women tend to be overly protective when it comes to children.”

“Everywhere I go I tend to run into such temperamental people.” 

Returning with their ales, Anne purposely tipped the cup while serving Chaucey spilling some of the amber liquid onto his lap. “Forgive my clumsiness,” she said halfheartedly.