Honor & Roses (40 page)

“You are always welcome with us, Luc,” Cecily said, beaming. “I know you’re as brothers.”

Luc nodded, then glanced around. “Speaking of that, where is Rafe?”

“Here at Cleobury. So is Octavian.”

“It will be good to see them again. I fear I will not be able to visit long after the wedding. I’m needed at court.”

“The king’s given you leave,” Alric protested, “until you’re recovered.”

“And I am nearly back to my full strength. But I’ll be most useful at court,” Luc said, without regret. “And in any case, my mother and sisters bear only a short visit before I want to flee!”

“I’ve met your mother and sisters. You’ve no cause for complaint.”

“They were charming to you because they hoped you might want to marry them!” Luc laughed.

“Too late for that now,” Alric said.

“So I hear…and I warn you I’ll get the
whole
story from you soon enough.” He looked at Cecily again. “The news of this wedding was met with joy, of course. But also speculation. And I note Alric called you wife…yet I have not attended the wedding.”

“I promise you’ll hear the story,” Alric said, as Cecily smiled knowingly.

“I will hold you to that. With apologies to the lady Cecily, I’m somewhat put out. It would have pleased me to gain a brother by marriage.”

“With three sisters, you will. I have no fear on that count.”

Luc grimaced. “Yes, but what sort of men will they be?”

“Higher born than me,” Alric assured him, “and closer to the king’s favor. Stephen will probably have husbands in mind for them. Perhaps a wife for you!”

Luc gave an exaggerated shudder. “I pray not. I’m too young for marriage. I hope the king intends no such mischief when I return to his court.”

A commotion near the gates made them all turn.

“Who is that?” Alric asked. “A whole cart of goods! Is that for the wedding?”

“I know not,” said Cecily. “But it looks familiar…Alric! That’s Pierce’s man! Do you not recognize him?”

“I do,” Alric confirmed grimly. “Let me see what makes him show his face. Luc, join me.”

“I’ll not be left behind,” Cecily protested, falling in step. “Those are my goods he’s brought along!”

Pierce’s envoy seemed unaffected by driving into what should be presumed enemy territory. He looked around at the courtyard and waited to be recognized.

He saw Alric and Cecily approaching and made a civil bow.

“Greetings, Sir Alric. You’re looking well. I would have a word with the bride,” the envoy said.

Cecily was annoyed at the man’s cheek. “What possible business can you have here? And what makes you so bold as to think my father or my husband would permit you to leave the manor, considering what your lord has been a party to?”

The envoy spread his hands to show his innocence. “You mistake my intent, my lady. I seek only to return some lost articles.”

He stepped aside to reveal several chests and crates, all of them familiar to her. It was everything Cecily packed for her presumed new home.

“My things,” she said. “I never thought to see them again.” She frowned. “I don’t understand. What price does Pierce set for these?”

“None at all. Though he may not share your outlook as to the political future of England, he is no common thief. He would not keep what a lady lost through mischance.”

Cecily blinked in disbelief, but only for a moment. In fact, this sort of behavior was exactly what she should expect of Pierce—in that it was unexpected. He was a strange and subtle man, both honorable and dishonorable, according to his own whims.

“What of the rose?” she asked suddenly. “I suppose it died.”

“No,” the envoy said. “My lord kept it. He had it planted in the gardens, where it is cared for most attentively. He wished for a remembrance of you.”

“Why would he wish to remember anything about me?”

The envoy bowed once more. “He expected that response. He told me to tell you that the rose Cecily White is a most rare flower, and not one a man could forget.”

* * * *

In the days before the wedding, more guests arrived, and the manor was filled with cooks and maids and servants preparing for the feast that would follow the ceremony. Boar, venison, swan, and pig were all on the menu, along with scores of other dishes, not to mention wine and cider and ale and bread of all kinds.

The smells alone were worth the wait, but Cecily found it hard to sit still. At the moment, she had to sit, for she was in the solar with Pavia and Robin.

Robin was now dressed as a lady, in a woolen gown dyed a rich brown. With the addition of a white linen wimple that concealed her short hair, she looked almost nothing like the rough lad she pretended to be when they first encountered her.

A few other women were in attendance, for the work took as many hands as were able. They were sewing items needed for the wedding, and chatting amongst themselves as they worked.

There was a knock at the door, and Alric stepped in.

“I have news,” he said. He looked more serious than usual, scanning the faces of the ladies.

“At least one matter is laid to rest,” he announced, “in more ways than one.”

“What matter is that?” Cecily asked curiously.

“The fugitive Laurence. His body was discovered in the forest.”

“Oh!” Cecily put a hand to her heart. “How did it happen? I hoped he would be found alive, so his accusers would be able to confront him.”

“His accusers will not miss seeing his sweaty face again,” Pavia said bluntly. “I say good riddance. I never liked him.”

“Are you certain it was he?” Robin asked.

“The body was easily identified. Laurence hadn’t fared well as a fugitive. A forester brought the body back here because he knew Laurence was wanted by the law.”

“Too late for the law to do anything now,” Cecily said. “Though perhaps justice was done anyway.”

Alric nodded. “Quite a clean hit. Someone hit his mark.”

“Could it have been an accident?” Pavia asked. “If someone was hunting small game at the time, a fugitive may have been mistaken for prey.”

Cecily shook her head. “We’ll never know.”

“Robin?” Alric asked. “What is your thought on the matter?”

The young woman looked back at him with a calm and steady gaze. “What has his fate to do with me?” she asked smoothly. “I never exchanged a word with the man.”

“I stand corrected,” said Alric. “Naturally you could not have a personal interest.”

Cecily looked at Robin more closely. She remembered how no one could find Robin the day after Laurence went missing. But that proved nothing…

“I am certain Robin had nothing to do with the matter,” she said.

Robin shook her head. “Certainly not. I place my trust in the Lord,” she added piously. “For only divine justice strikes true wherever it aims.”

“See?” Pavia said proudly. “What a pretty speech, and what true words Robin speaks. We’ll make a lady of her yet!”

Cecily caught Alric’s gaze, and could tell he had his doubts.

The marriage of the lady
Cecily de Vere to the knight Alric of Hawksmere took place on a cool fall day when the leaves were russet and gold, and the sky was pure cerulean. The manor prepared a feast on a scale not known during the whole time Theobald had been lord.

Earlier in the morning, Bertram and Runild were married in the same church, though their wedding was a much simpler affair, with only Runild’s family and their friends in attendance.

The young couple would share in the larger celebration later, after the noble wedding. Not that Runild or Bertram seemed to care at all about that—they had eyes only for each other.

Cecily could not attend the first wedding, for she was being prepared by Pavia, Agnes, and a reluctant Robin. Cecily was gowned in blue. Although the trousseau she had taken to Pierce’s castle had been returned, Cecily had ruined her costly wedding gown in the Ardenwood. Not that she missed it. Today, she wore a simple woolen gown over a white linen shift, the waist and sleeves tied with ribbon. She would look no higher in status than everyone else attending. Yet she felt like a royal princess, and happier than she ever had been before.

Pavia tweaked the folds of Cecily’s gown so all was ready.

“You’re beautiful, child,” she said, her eyes suspiciously glassy. “You need no jewelry, for you’re shining all on your own.”

Robin wrinkled her nose. “Saints save me from ever losing my head in such a way.”

Cecily only laughed. Nothing could spoil her mood on this day. “I’ll pray for love to strike you in the heart, Robin!”

“Don’t you dare!” the younger girl protested in alarm.

When it was time to go down to the chapel, Cecily was so excited she could barely decide where to walk, so it was well that Pavia and Robin guided her steps.

When the wedding party entered the chapel, Cecily saw Alric standing by the altar, flanked by Luc and Octavian.

He wore clothing that was well made, but as simple as hers. His tunic and hose looked new, but only his belt appeared to be of great value. He was clean shaven and bareheaded, and went completely still on seeing her enter.

Cecily advanced down the center aisle of the nave, escorted by her father, who looked as regal as a king. Alric took her hand when she reached him, then both sank to their knees before a smiling Father Anselm, who began the wedding mass.

The day before, both Cecily and Alric had given confession, as was usual before a sacrament such as marriage. This confession was slightly unusual, though, because they agreed that the priest should know of their previous, secret wedding.

Anselm accepted the news with a calm that spoke of his long training.

“Binding though your private vows are,” he said, “there is a value in marrying before witnesses, and in a holy place. Not to mention the desire of Lord Rainald, who for very practical and worldly reasons, will wish that your union never be questioned. I will conduct the wedding as usual—no need to tell the world it is redundant. God sees all, and knows your hearts.”

The ceremony seemed to happen in the blink of an eye, and then Anselm was telling them to rise.

“We’re married?” Cecily whispered to the priest. “Are you certain?”

Father Anselm winked. “You were before, my child, but you are doubly so now,” he whispered back. “Now turn and greet all the people who wish you well.”

She turned, and found her father standing before them.

“My lord,” she murmured, with a curtsey. Alric also bowed.

“My children,” Rainald said, putting his hands out. “You can’t know how glad my heart is. I could not ask for a better omen on my return from exile.”

Rainald turned to the gathered onlookers, saying, “We have just seen my daughter Cecily wed to the honorable knight Alric of Hawksmere, who, as Cecily’s husband, will be my heir. I offer both of them my blessings and my support. You all know Cecily, and many of you know Alric. He will be a worthy successor to me, for he is a man who knows that true nobility requires a man to defend and protect what he has, not to blindly acquire more. I have no doubt that my lands and lineage will be safe with him.”

He turned back to Alric, who looked rather stunned, and then Cecily, who flung her arms around her father.

“Do you mean it?” she asked Rainald.

“Every word,” he replied.

* * * *

Following the ceremony, Alric led Cecily back out into the sunny courtyard. Guests gathered around them, offering congratulations and blessings. Cecily had never felt so happy. She had returned home, miraculously found her father again, and was now officially and irrevocably wed to the man she had always loved. She wanted everyone around her to be as blissful as she was.

After a little while, Luc and Octavian found them. Alric accepted the congratulations of both men, saying, “I’m lucky you were able to be here. All my brothers, even Rafe. I fear there will not be many times more when we’ll all be together.”

“And not for long this time,” Luc admitted. “Lord Rainald thinks it best if Octavian and I travel with him to Stephen’s court. Theobald might make a troublesome prisoner, and the more knights we have to keep the peace, the better.”

“I can go as well,” Alric offered, though half-heartedly.

Cecily put her hand on his arm. “I forbid it!” she said. “You are to remain here with your bride!”

“Ah, well.” Alric shrugged. “My apologies, Luc. The lady has spoken.” He plainly didn’t mind being ordered about, not when the order kept him near Cecily.

Luc laughed. “I should expect no less. In fact, I hope Rafe will accompany us. His testimony will help explain things, though there is enough evidence with Rainald’s story alone.”

“Where is Rafe?” Cecily asked, looking around. “I haven’t seen him since very early this morning.”

Alric surveyed the whole courtyard, as if the missing knight would simply appear by wishing. “I wonder where he’s got to. His mood has been strange of late—even for him.”

“He would not have left before the feast!” Cecily said, though as soon as she said it, she realized that somehow must be the case.

A boy was sent to the stables, and soon reported that Rafe’s destrier was gone. Shortly after, a maid confirmed that Rafe packed all his belongings and left out the gate not long after sunrise.