Honor & Roses (16 page)

It wasn’t Cecily’s strength he doubted, but he couldn’t say that. “I’d prefer to keep her out of this,” he said. “It’s not her duty to mend me when I get careless.”

“She might beg to differ,” Pavia warned. But she promised not to tell Cecily of the fight, or Alric’s wounds. “Her uncle’s summoned her for an audience, in any case. She won’t have heard a thing.”

Cecily was dimly aware of
some excitement in the manor grounds, but before she could investigate, Agnes appeared, bearing the news that her uncle wanted to see her.

“He wants you to look presentable,” her nurse added, “which means a finer gown and a veil for your head.”

“Why?”

“A guest has arrived, so you’re to be lady of the manor.”

Cecily dressed in a blue silk gown with a wide neck that left her shoulders almost bare. Agnes bound her hair in a heavy braid, and settled a fine white veil over her head so it framed her face. She secured it with a circlet of hammered silver.

“There we are,” Agnes declared. “No one would suspect you were digging up garlic this morning.”

“Not after you dowsed me in lavender water,” Cecily agreed, even though no one could claim that garlic smelled better than lavender.

She walked down to her uncle’s study, stopping when she saw a few unfamiliar horses in the courtyard.

From the quality of the horseflesh, evident even from a distance, she guessed that Theobald had an important visitor indeed. Why hadn’t he told Cecily earlier?

“Who has come?” she asked Father Anselm, who was standing nearby, also admiring the horses.

“An envoy from a lord to the north, beyond the Ardenwood. I think the lord is Pierce of Malvern.”

“Why is he here?”

The priest shook his head. “I know only the name, and that from the gatehouse guards. Theobald has said nothing to me.”

Cecily told herself that was reassuring. If Father Anselm hadn’t been informed, then the visit must be merely some business of Theobald’s. Not a marriage. But she felt an iciness in her gut as she proceeded to Theobald’s study.

She stood on the threshold, and Theobald gestured for her to enter. “Come, come.”

“You wanted to speak with me, Uncle?” she asked.

“Indeed, yes. Come in and greet our guest. Edward serves the lord Pierce, who holds Malvern Castle.”

Cecily curtseyed. “Good day, sir. Have you traveled far to see us?”

“Several days, my lady,” he said, bowing. “But such is my lot as a clerk to Lord Pierce. I am sent all throughout England and Wales on his business.”

“I see.” Cecily took a seat on the bench by her uncle. “Well, I know not what business brought you here, but you are welcome to Cleobury.”

“You are most gracious,” he said, with an amused look.

“Why do you laugh?” she asked.

“Because my business
is
evidently unknown to you, though it involves you.” He glanced at Theobald. “You should have the honor, my lord.”

Cecily glanced toward her uncle. “What? What should I know?”

“I’ve good news for you, Cecily. You’re betrothed to Lord Pierce. He controls several estates, and one of the most important passes into Wales. Our interests align very well. He is a worthy match for the heiress of the name de Vere.”

“But…I’ve not met him. I don’t even know what he looks like!”

“He is considered a paragon, my lady, I assure you,” the envoy said smoothly. “And naturally, he has received reports of you as well. I will tell him those reports scarce do you justice.”

“It is all arranged, Cecily,” Theobald added, with a warning note in his voice. “You’ll be well provided for.”

“When?” she asked. “I mean, when is the wedding to take place?”

“As soon as you arrive, my lady,” the envoy said. “I shall return to Malvern Castle in all haste to bring the news of the betrothal—as well as the documents testifying to it.” He held up a folded parchment. “You will follow once you are prepared to go. A week, perhaps?”

“Two at the very least,” Theobald interjected. “I must not send my niece away so abruptly, especially if I may not see her again for a long while.”

“Uncle, you’re not coming with me?” she asked, hurt.

“I must remain here,” he said. “I have business that will not permit me to travel.”

“You’d send me off alone? To be
married
?”

“Cecily,” he said. “You will be escorted by a contingent of my best knights. Pavia will come to the wedding. And Agnes will of course attend you in your new home.”

“Agnes can’t leave Cleobury forever. Her family is here.”

“Who do you want to attend you?” Then he brushed it aside. “That is a matter to discuss later.” He turned to the envoy. “You see, sir. One does not send a lady anywhere without considerable planning.” Theobald snapped his fingers. “Let us say Lammas Night. Your lord no doubt celebrates the close of summer just as we do. A wedding will be a most welcome addition to the festivities.”

“An excellent notion,” the envoy said. “I’ll tell my lord so, and he’ll doubtless count down the days till his bride comes.”

“Cecily will be there before Lammas Night. She knows the value of keeping her word.” Theobald took her hand, quite firmly. “What do you say, niece?”

“Yes…yes, my lord,” she murmured, not having any other words ready.

After the envoy excused himself, Theobald spoke to her at length about the details of the marriage, but the words flowed around her and she understood almost nothing. She sat in silence, helpless to oppose this swift change to her fortunes.

“Honor your family name, Cecily,” Theobald concluded. “No more will ever be asked of you.”

Indeed, she thought,
nothing
had been asked of her. Not even if she wanted to marry the man.

Eventually, Theobald summoned Agnes to escort Cecily to her chambers, where she sat on the edge of her bed.

She’d always known that marriage was to be her fate. For a well-born woman, the altar or the veil were the only two options. But now that it was settled—and all without her knowledge or wishes—she railed against it. At least, her soul did.

The door creaked open some time later, but Cecily didn’t even glance over.

“I want no food,” she said, assuming it was a servant come to call her to supper. “Leave me in peace.”

“Even my company will be unwelcome?”

Cecily looked up to see Pavia there. “Oh, please don’t leave me!” she said, feeling the full weight of the loneliness that had been hovering over her.

Pavia rushed up to her, wrapping her in an embrace. “My goodness, sweet Cecily. I just heard. Is it true?”

“I’m betrothed,” she replied, miserably, “to a man I’ve never even met.”

“My dear heart, I didn’t know,” Pavia said. “Believe me, I would have been with you if I’d known! Who is it?”

Cecily told her all she knew, and then she was crying like a little child against Pavia’s breast. “I don’t want to get married,” she sobbed. “I don’t want to!”

“Oh, dear child, it won’t be so bad.” Pavia patted her back gently. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t want to get used to it! And would it have been so bad for the man to come himself? He sent a clerk with papers!”

Pavia sighed. “That is how it is done sometimes. Theobald would not have said yes to the match if he did not think it beneficial.”

“He didn’t even ask what I thought. He didn’t even
warn
me. The envoy laughed at me, at my ignorance.”

“I am sorry, dear. Your uncle is not always mindful of how to deal gently with people. But he is ever mindful of his name and his legacy. This must be the best match he could have devised. When are you to leave?”

“A week or so before Lammas, I think. That leaves me less than a month to uproot myself! You’re to come with me, just for the wedding.”

“Of course I will!” Pavia smiled. “As if anything could keep me away.”

“Thank you,” Cecily said. “It will be better with you along.”

“And not just me, but a contingent of Theobald’s men to keep us safe along the way. Who will lead the cortege? Sir Alric, I presume.”

Cecily blanched.
Alric.
What would he say when he heard the news?

After the brutal practice session
with Rafe, Alric had no interest in sitting around, laughing and drinking. His thoughts were running wild, though his body still felt exhausted from the exertion in the hot sun.

He patched up the few wounds he received. He waited a while for Pavia to return with the ointment, but she did not appear. He decided that he could simply use it later, when he replaced the bandages.

He sent Edmund off, then wandered to a quiet part of the manor, near a spinney of birches shadowing a brook that ran through the estate. Alric sat on the bank, leaning back against one of the trees.

It was peaceful here, and the trees’ dappled shade provided the illusion of coolness. He contemplated riding to the pond he’d re-discovered with Cecily, but the effort seemed far too great.

However, that memory summoned the image of Cecily to his mind, and he relaxed, closing his eyes. It couldn’t hurt to relive a single memory…even if the subject was forbidden to him.

A wiser man would not have stolen a glance while his lady swam naked. By that measure, Alric was an idiot, because he watched her swim without hesitation or regret. Cecily was gorgeous when she was wild. She was beautiful when she was behaving as a proper lady, of course. Her slender beauty and perfectly imperfect freckled skin would make any man take notice. Alric had been immensely curious to know if the freckles covered more of her than her face and hands.

He was delighted to see that they did, and felt an almost instant desire to kiss each one. That reaction had been enough to make him remember his place, and he didn’t stay long. One look at Cecily would have to do for the rest of his life. He wouldn’t see her like that ever again.

Then he blinked, because he
did
see Cecily.

She was weaving in between the trees growing by the edge of the fields. They were well spaced, just at the fringe of the forest. It was not hard to keep track of her bright gold hair as she slipped from shadow to shadow. He told her once that her hair would betray her.

But what was she doing leaving the manor on foot, and without escort?

Alric stood up, dizzy for just a moment. He checked that his sheathed dagger was on his belt. Then he moved fast toward Cecily, running as silently as he could. He sought to find a parallel path and then cut to the side so he could be in front of her.

It was easy to follow her movement, since she was going in haste and not taking care. He saw flashes of gold in the filtered light of the trees.

He gained on her and angled to meet her path.

Once he saw the golden head approaching, Alric stepped out of cover and blocked her way.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked bluntly.

She skidded to a halt, staring at him in dismay. “Alric!”

Even spoken like that, he liked to hear his name on her tongue.

“Tell me where you’re bound, and why,” he said.

“I have to run!” she said, looking anxiously over her shoulder. “He wants to marry me off.”

He took her by the shoulder. “What has happened?”

“He’s chosen a husband,” Cecily said. Her breathing was quick, her breast rising and falling with tension. “There’s a nunnery in Hereford. I have my jewels to bring as payment. They’ll take me as a novice.”

He stopped her from running again. “If you take the veil, you’ll be behind walls for the rest of your life. How is that any different from a marriage?”

She bit her lip. “It would be of my choosing.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” he argued. “Not if you’re only choosing it as a way to avoid another choice. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to stay once Theobald heard of it. He’d demand your return, and he’s your guardian. A small nunnery would never endure the political scandal of allowing a headstrong young woman to defy her family’s wishes.”

“Let me go.” Cecily twisted away, and he held her more firmly.

“No. Not until you admit your plan is terrible.”

She turned back to him, staring at him with heat in her eyes. “You say my plan is terrible, but you offer no alternative. If not the nunnery, then what? What other option is there for me?” Her cheeks were flushed now, and her lips parted as she took a deep breath.