Conquests: Hearts Rule Kingdoms (15 page)

Melville hesitated once more.

“But my heart is learning about this old country, and although it is not the same, its differences are certainly…alluring.”

Avis smiled slowly at him. She did not really understand what he was trying to tell her, but she trusted him. She knew that it was a kind message, and a message meant definitely for her, and she was grateful to him.

But panic started to rise from her stomach. Trusting a Norman! By their very nature they were untrustworthy. They could not be entrusted with anything, let alone one’s safety, one’s memories, one’s heart. But as she looked at Melville, gazing into the fire with the light of sparks leaping across his masculine features, she was reassured. The feeling of nausea lessened, and she could once again breathe easy. Melville was not like that. This man could indeed be relied upon.

Melville hummed under his breath. It was the same song that she had heard him singing during what felt like a different life – that day by the river bed where she had demanded that he kept his promise to her. It was the best medicine and comfort that he was able to give Avis.

She stirred, exhausted but still trying to listen to him.

“What’s that?” she murmured.

“It is a song that I love,” Melville replied softly. “It is a song that my mother sung to me when I had returned home, clothes torn from another beating and mud clotting in my scruffy hair. She sang it to me every day that I returned home with blood pouring from a new wound, and every night that I cried myself to sleep. It soothed and relaxed me then, and I hope it gives you rest now.”

“It is beautiful,” Avis breathed. “What is it about?”

“It speaks of a young man, tired of the world and unable to escape it. He decides to leave home to seek his fortune, and climbs a high mountain up into the clouds. But then an enchanter appears, and grants him the ability to alter the emotions of the people around him…”

As Melville spoke, Avis gave up in the attempt to force down the sense of safety. She could not run from Melville, and she found that now she did not want to. As much as she hated to admit it, he was not the man that she had thought he was. Avis was ashamed about the assumptions that she had made about him, about all Normans. In fact, her willingness to coat all Normans with the same tar only made her as bad as she assumed they were. How could she state that she despised all Normans when she had such a limited experience of them? In her mind she compared the three Norman men that she knew the most: Richard, Hugh le Blanc and Melville. Avis knew that if she were honest with herself, she would have to accept that the majority of Norman men she knew were indeed honourable men. Despite her sleepiness, she knew that she had been wrong.

Speaking that truth yesterday would have been death to her, but now…things were different. Something had changed. Something between Melville and herself had changed. By making herself vulnerable to Melville, and in turn hearing so much of his own life, she felt as if there had been a bond created between them that was not of their own making. One that could not easily be broken or ignored. Relaxing in Melville’s presence for the very first time since they had met, Avis fell asleep.

Melville felt the tension in Avis’ body leave her, and looking down, saw that she was asleep. He smiled down at her: a smile that spoke of care and affection, and a deep rooted desire to prevent any harm from coming to her. If she had seen it, Avis would have been under no illusions as to how her husband truly felt about her.

Melville looked at the fire, which had been dying away for many minutes. He calculated that, looking at the way the fire had almost gone out completely, they had been speaking for hours. He felt intensely happy. A rush of emotion filled him, soaring through his mind and reaching the very ends of his toes.

Melville looked down at his emotionally exhausted wife. His feelings about Avis had been incredibly confusing for longer than he cared to admit. With every meeting, every conversation, every day that had gone past, he learned something new, something amazing, something about her that he revelled in and completely enjoyed. Every confusing part of her personality and character was starting to fit together in a way that he had never expected, to produce this beautiful and darling creature that now lay in his arms.

He stared at her. At her physical beauty, radiating from every inch of her, and at her soul, which poured out light the more he spoke to her. He felt as if he had been walking along the cliff top of emotions for a while now, but this was the time. Time that he faced up to his true emotions.

Melville didn’t just fall in love with Avis. He jumped.

Chapter Twenty One

The muffled sounds of footsteps and the lighting of a fire were the noises and lights that awoke Melville and Avis the next morning. They had fallen asleep together sitting on the seat, and were slightly embarrassed to find their hands clasped and entwined. Melville immediately rose.

“Forgive me,” he said awkwardly. “I shall leave you to ready yourself for this new day.”

He rushed out of the room before Avis had time to collect her thoughts, but she was sorry to see him go. She had not slept so well for days, and she had a strange feeling that his body had given her better rest than any bed she had known.

Standing, she stretched herself like a cat that had spent too much time in the sun, and made her way into her chamber. Her hand still hurt, but the pain had dulled, and the skin was already healing. Changing into her most beautiful blood red dress, Avis bathed her face in the cold water that had been brought in by the embarrassed manservant whose feet had woken the couple.

Moving downstairs to break her fast, Avis was surprised but pleased to see Melville had not left immediately as was his normal custom, but was waiting for her before he started eating. Other men in the hall had not the same courtesy, but she breezed past them without care, eyes fixed on the man at the head of the table. Avis inclined her stately head towards him, and Melville answered her with a broad smile that she laughingly returned.

Evidently the events of yesterday, and the deeply personal conversation that had gone on long into the night had changed something between them, mused Avis. Whereas before there had been nothing but resentment and cold treatment, now there was a bond between them. They, and only they knew the truth about each other’s pasts in this hall – and that truth gave them something that they had not had before. Trust.

Seating herself beside him, he spoke as he piled his plate with food.

“What are your plans for today, Avis?”

Avis was only recently becoming accustomed to the use of her name by her husband, but she still did not have the courage to return the familiar gesture. Despite the openness that they had experienced the night before, she could pretend that there was something still incredibly unknown about him. Until that was removed, she could not act completely openly without fear.

“I have no certain plans, my lord.”

Melville clapped his hands loudly, and a servant immediately approached.

“My lord?”

“Ready two horses, and a pack of food.” Melville commanded.

The servant bowed.

“Yes, my lord.”

He scurried out of the room, and Avis looked enquiring at her husband.

“Are you going somewhere?”

Melville took a large mouthful of bread, and nodded. When he had swallowed, he spoke.

“We are indeed.”

Avis was startled, and lowered the handful of grapes that she had been lifting to her mouth. One fell from her palm, and rolled across the table to rest by a jug of warm ale.

“We are?”

Melville reached out a hand to place upon hers, and gently squeezed it.

“We are. Now eat! You will need your strength.”

Avis shook her head, half in bewilderment and half in laughter. Who could have predicted this? Certainly not her. It was not Melville’s inclination to include her in any of his activities – at least it had never been so before. Whatever it was, it was a welcome change from their stand-off under the tree or their tempestuous fight in the kitchen.

Fast broken, Avis and Melville walked to the stables – close enough for their sleeves to brush, but not close enough for either of their liking. A striking black horse was waiting, and Melville looked over at Avis, smiling.

“Do you like her?”

Avis paused, unable to comprehend his meaning.

“Is…she mine?”

Melville’s smile widened, his pleasure heightened by her joy.

“Only if you are pleased with her.”

Avis walked forwardly, timidly. The black horse was larger than she had ever ridden before, but it seemed gentle, allowing her to stroke its magnificent neck without jolting away from her in fear. Avis breathed out a sigh of contentment. Losing her horse after the invasion had meant the restriction of her freedom, a loss that had never been replaced. Richard had allowed her the use of his horses, but she had always been made to feel like an intruder. She had travelled away from her home fewer and fewer times, until eventually she rarely ventured far from the gardens and grounds. Finally, here was a way for her to reclaim her love of the landscape: by riding out into it on her new horse.

She turned around to face Melville. “She’s beautiful. What is her name?”

“As yet, she is not named. I only purchased her for you two days before, and have not had time to consider it. Why don’t you give her a name?”

Avis pursed her luscious lips, and walked around the mare, giving her a close examination. Melville was impressed to see that she obviously knew what she was doing. After prodding at her teeth, and checking her shoes for stones, she stroked the horse between the nose and the eyes, and smiled.

“You have a name?” Melville prompted.

Avis nodded. “Skydancer.”

“Tis an unusual name.” Melville had never heard a horse named in such a fashion, but Avis laughed.

“Maybe in Normandy! But we have a very different way of naming things here.”

“So I am learning.” Melville’s smile was so complete that Avis could not help but return it. Her gratitude emanated from her elegant features.

“Thank you, Melville.”

The sound of his name pouring like honey from her lips soothed a pain in Melville that he did not realise that he had. Satisfaction emanated from his face.

“I am glad,” he managed. “Would you like aid in mounting her?”

Avis grinned – a wicked grin that Melville had not seen on her before. She swung round and leapt upwards, mounting the horse with an ease that Melville had seen in no other rider. He laughed aloud in surprise.

“My, you are more adept than many of the King’s messengers! You have kept your talent from me!”

Avis looked down at Melville. “You have not discovered all of my talents, my lord.”

And with that, she encouraged the black mare to gallop out of the stable yard, not waiting for Melville. He mounted his own horse, Storm, quickly, unwilling to let the flirtatious mood that Avis was in escape him. Two servants followed on stable horses with the food that the kitchen had carefully prepared. Melville quickly caught up with Avis, and brought his horse alongside hers.

“So what is our destination?” Avis questioned, tossing her long hair behind her as she increased the pace. Although she was still wearing her veil, she had taken to wearing a shorter version now, and it allowed the ends of her long tresses to fall down her back in natural curls.

Melville shrugged. “Where do you want to go?”

Avis brought her horse to a stop at the foot of the bridge, looking around her. Ahead of her, over the bridge, was the village that she was growing to know and love. To her left, the road to York which was dusty and uninspiring – but to her right, an unknown track that led around the edge of a dark forest, curving past it to new ground.

“What is beyond that forest?” she asked.

Melville pushed his horse forward, calling over his shoulder, “let’s find out!”

Avis’ sense of adventure and desire to explore was reawakened. Here truly was freedom! Pushing Skydancer into a gallop, she quickly overtook Melville who took the movement just as she intended it to be: as a challenge. Racing forward, they rode for miles, interchanging their speed but never able to converse in the rush of excitement and speed.

The cold breeze rushed past their ears and tore away Avis’ veil. Winter had sunk into the air, and instead of warm wafts it brought icy gusts – but when riding as fast as they were, it was difficult to tell. It blew behind them as they laughed, Avis shaking her head to release her brilliant long hair. Billowing out from behind her, she was transformed into the image of an Old Testament angel: beautiful beyond words but terribly powerful and not to be defied. Melville marvelled at her. She was truly captivating.

After an hour or so of intoxicating riding, they had travelled far enough along the track to see that behind the forest was another little village. Smaller than Ulleskelf, it was nevertheless formed of perhaps twenty or more dwellings, with a large church at the centre. Their two servants had not managed to keep to their frantic pace due to trying to rescue Avis’ veil. Melville and Avis therefore approached the settlement alone. Small children tottered out to see them, and Avis waved. Little grins and cries of, “my lady!” echoed behind them as they passed, and Melville slowed to a placid trot. Avis matched her horse’s pace to his, and they exchanged relaxed and contented looks. The enjoyment and love of riding was something that they both unknowingly shared, and their talent was equally matched.

“Now,” began Melville. “Where do you want to eat?”

Avis scanned the horizon, and saw a slight hill with a strange outline at the top. It created a shadow that was unusual, but not unknown. She smiled. She recognised that shadow.

“Yonder, upon that hill. From there we shall have a wonderful view of the area.” She pointed to where she meant, and Melville nodded.

After a couple more minutes of fast riding, they approached the hill. The closer they got to the summit, the more certain Avis was that the shape she had seen was what she had supposed, and when it came into clear view Melville started.