Lynn Wood - Norman Brides 03 (21 page)

“Elena, dear.” A rather amused voice repeated near her ear and Elena started and turned to find Lady Madeline, Baron Gallagher’s wife, by her side, apparently anticipating a response to the comment she no doubt directed at her, but which Elena had not heard because she’d been too wrapped up in her daydreams surrounding the new king.

“Forgive me, Lady Madeline, my thoughts were elsewhere,” she quickly apologized to the older woman.

“Yes, dear, so I noticed.  Not that I blame you.  If I were twenty years younger, I am certain my thoughts would also be directed elsewhere whenever our dashing, young king was within my line of sight.”

Elena blushed profusely at the older woman’s inference, but was too embarrassed at her directness to know how to respond.

Madeline reached out to give her hand a comforting squeeze.  “Forgive me, child, I did not mean to cause you discomfort.  ‘Tis the truth I would worry more about you if you did not notice what a fine young man our new king is.  I understand from my husband it was King Barnabas’ dying wish that the two of you wed.”

Elena knew there was nothing she could do about her flaming cheeks, but she was more interested in making certain she understood Lady Madeline’s inference correctly. “I’m sorry, perhaps I misunderstood you?”

“I sincerely doubt that, my dear.  Surely you knew Barnabas loved you like his very own daughter.  He made it very clear in the scroll he left appointing King Michel your guardian that he granted his consent for you to wed Queen Alyssa’s grandson, Michel, and no other.”

Elena lifted trembling hands to her cheeks.  “I had no idea my uncle left such instructions. I suppose that is why everyone seems to assume that we will be wed.”

“No doubt, my dear, but I think the circumstance of our new king allowing you to remain in his household without the benefit of a proper chaperone leads people to conclude he has every intention of marrying you after an appropriate time has elapsed for you to mourn your uncle’s loss.”

“I see,” Elena replied in a hushed voice.  “Admittedly I hadn’t considered that.  I have always lived in the keep.  I am certain it is merely a kindness on King Michel’s part not to have removed me from the only home I have any memory of.  Where would I go, after all?  Uncle Barnabas was my only family.”

“Yes, well, though you are too young perhaps to be fully aware of the consequences to your reputation by continuing to live under the roof of our bachelor king, rest assured the king is not unaware of his responsibilities towards you. Knowing my husband’s regard for him, and now having met him myself, I am completely confident he will not be remiss in fulfilling those responsibilities.”

“I see,” Elena echoed hollowly.  “Thank you for explaining.  You are quite right.  I had no idea people would assume I was the king’s mistress simply because we both had our quarters in the keep.  Especially considering the fact that I have barely seen him since he recovered from his wounds and assumed his duties as king.”

“Don’t be foolish, Elena.  No one assumes any such thing.  Our new king is a man of honor.  Look how he treated Baron James’ son and family after the man attempted to murder him.  A lesser king would have forced them to forfeit their lands and exiled them from his kingdom at the very least. Certainly no one would have challenged his right to do so under the circumstances. Frankly we were all shocked by his generosity towards the baron’s family and the personal interest he has displayed towards young Colin.  Such a man, so mindful of his honor, will not be slow to protect an innocent young maid’s, particularly the niece of our former king.”

“Yes, of course, thank you for your reassurance.  Would you excuse me?  I have to consult with the cooks in regards to dinner.”  Elena forced the words through her stiff lips, all of her joy in the evening’s entertainment forgotten.  At her companion’s assent and gracious offer of assistance, Elena summoned the words to politely decline her overture and then turned away, blindly seeking the means to escape the now oppressive gathering.

She needed to be alone for a few moments to regain her composure and to absorb what she’d just learned.  Her uncle left instructions with Michel that he wished him to not only act as her guardian, but to marry her, as well.  To make matters worse, her uncle’s dying wish was apparently well known among the citizens of Calei, at least among the noblemen.

Michel’s kindness to her by granting her request of him to be allowed to return to the keep and live there with him had all but forced him, in the eyes of the nobles, to marry her or surrender his honor in their eyes.  No wonder he’d been avoiding her.  She needed to leave.  He saved her life.  She would not repay him by forcing him into a marriage he did not want, to a woman he regarded as a child.

“Elena?”  She swung around at the sound of her name, convinced she must be imagining it was Michel who hailed her.  When she saw him striding towards her, his long legs swallowing up the distance between them, her own feet were suddenly frozen to the floor.

“Elena?” he repeated, when she just stood there staring up at him, with what must surely be a silly, dazed expression on her face.

She quickly sank into a deep curtsey before him.  She heard his amused chuckle at her respectful gesture and then he reached down to assist her to her feet.  “I think we have progressed beyond such formalities when we are alone.”

Her tongue felt as though it was stuck to the roof of her mouth and she quickly dropped her stricken gaze before his searching one.

“Elena is something wrong?” he prodded at her continued silence.

Gathering her scattered wits, Elena drew in a calming breath and braved meeting his probing glance.  “No, no of course not.  I was just heading to the kitchens to make certain all is in readiness for dinner.  I believe the majority of the guests have arrived.  We should be able to sit down to dine soon.”

A puzzled frown entered his glance and he replied, “Elena, I am certain the housekeeper will make sure our guests do not starve.  I would not detract from your pleasure in the evening by having you run yourself ragged over such matters.  Not, that I don’t realize it is because of your efforts the evening has gone off so spectacularly.  I hadn’t realized you acted as your uncle’s hostess before he fell ill.”

“Yes.”  Elena couldn’t think of anything more sparkling to contribute to the conversation beyond her single word response.

Again his confusion was evident in the blue eyes that met hers.  At her continued silence Michel pulled her deeper into the dimly hallway and away from the speculative glances that watched them from the crowded hall.

“Tell me what’s wrong.  Did someone say something to upset you?”  He took her cold hands in both of his and squeezed them gently.

Elena recognized the genuine concern that prompted his question.  There was no avoiding their circumstances.  She was no more prepared to survive in the wilderness than she had been when she concocted her half-formed plans to flee being forced to marry Raulf.  “May I ask you a question?”

“Of course,” he confirmed, even as his eyes probed hers for a hint of what she wanted to know from him.

“Did my uncle ask you to marry me?”

Whatever he thought she was about to question him about, the query she just directed at him was obviously not it.  He released one of her hands to thrust one of his own through his shoulder length hair and sputtered uncertainly, “Elena…”

She swallowed the lump of suppressed tears lodged in her throat.  “No, never mind, I can already see the answer in your uncertainty of how to respond.  Forgive me for approaching such a delicate matter with you when you have other matters on your mind.  I only hope you will not…Please do not feel as though you must…”  Elena abandoned her attempt to get the words out.

She drew a shattered, embarrassed breath and offered feebly, “I have to go.  I am not able to have this discussion with you now and then return to
your
guests as if nothing is amiss.  It was foolish of me to broach the topic now. I suppose you are right.  I am not quite grown up all the way yet where I can pretend all is well between us when clearly it is not.  Please excuse me, Your Highness.”  She didn’t wait for him to respond to her tearful plea.  Instead she slipped her hand from his unresisting grasp and fled down the hall.

Elena stopped in an empty alcove to gather herself. She pressed trembling hands to her hot cheeks and brushed ready tears from her eyes with an impatient gesture.  Then drawing in several bracing breaths, admonished herself not to act any more like the child Michel already believed her to be and continued on her way to the kitchens. 

She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised Michel believed such matters as the details involved in presiding over his first official reception as king could be left in the hands of a servant who had no personal acquaintance with the guests in attendance.  Even in her own limited experience, she had already learned that most men assumed their households ran themselves and seemed to think such things as warm food, fresh ale and clean linens appeared at their ready hands as if by magic.

After confirming the details with the housekeeper and the cooks, Elena made her way back to the grand hall.  She had acted as her uncle’s hostess on enough occasions to comprehend what was expected of her.  At the entrance she pasted a bright smile on her face, nodded in response to a summons by Lady Margaret, Baron Paul’s wife, and set off across the hall, some sixth sense alerting her to the fact Michel’s eyes followed her progress across the distance.

Elena managed to avoid the king’s company for the remainder of the evening.  It was not difficult.  Michel was constantly surrounded by his new subjects seeking to gain his attention.  For her part, she nimbly evaded allowing herself to be cornered into any additional conversations in regards to the new king’s intentions towards her.  There were broad hints in her direction about the gathering no doubt being called together again soon to celebrate her marriage to King Michel but Elena pretended to be oblivious to their implication and only managed to excuse herself from one well-meaning matron only to be cornered by another.

It was with a feeling of intense relief when later in the evening she slipped away from the gathering without making her formal excuses to the king.  As the evening progressed, the married knights and nobles had sought their own homes in the company of their wives and the king’s company had taken on a younger, overwhelmingly male flavor.  She deduced correctly her presence among them would only serve to dampen their rising, ale-enhanced spirits. 

Entering her rooms she rubbed her temples to ease the pounding headache she struggled with for the majority of the evening.  Lissel, her maid, waited to help her remove her gown and prepare for bed.  For a moment, Elena considered sending her away.  She was quite capable of undressing herself and pulling a sleeping gown over her head, but she could see Lissel’ s glance was alight in anticipation of the opportunity to discuss the events of the evening and Elena could not bring herself to squelch the girl’s enthusiasm with a careless dismissal.

“Lady Elena, I swear you must have been the most beautiful lady in the room.  Do you think the king noticed?  But of course, he must have…the two of you being so close and all.  It’s so romantic the way he rescued you from those black-hearted kidnappers and kept you with him in the mountains.”

Elena suppressed the agonized groan that rose to her lips. Did even the servants assume she was Michel’s mistress?  No wonder Michel regarded her as if she was still a child.  She certainly retained the naivety of one.  She listened with half an ear to Lissel’s chatter as the girl undid the ties to her gown and carefully lifted the heavy material over her head. 

They were about the same age, Elena concluded, but Lissel was apparently far more possessed of worldly knowledge than she was.  At least enough to have assumed Elena and Michel’s relationship was far more intimate than that of simply a guardian and his ward.

Elena again felt the absence of her mother in her life.  Wasn’t it a mother’s place to make her daughter aware of such matters about the intimacies between a man and a woman, and the assumptions others would be bound to jump to in regards to a king sharing his home with his young, unwed ward?  A proper chaperone?  What did that mean exactly?  There were dozens of servants living within the walls of the keep, not to mention the soldiers’ quarters down below.  How many chaperones were required to ensure her virginity remained safe from the king’s manly passions?  Was the man not guarded twenty four hours of every day?  How was he supposed to conduct such liaisons without the knowledge of his guard? 

Not that Michel had shown any sign of wishing to conduct a liaison with her since her return to the keep.  Now that she understood the way things stood between them, and the expectations he was laboring under in regards to his intentions to his predecessor’s niece, she didn’t blame him for avoiding her company.

She was only just beginning to comprehend it didn’t matter if Michel had acted honorably towards her or not, since everyone apparently already believed they were lovers, or had been when she remained under his protection in the mountains.  Elena very much feared those assumptions, despite their inaccuracy, would prove enough to force Michel to wed her.

She sighed heavily and moved to take the brush from Lissel’s hand where she was brushing the intricate braids from her hair with long strokes.  “Is everything all right, milady?”

Elena summoned a reassuring smile.  “Yes, Lissel.  I suppose the excitement of the evening was too much for me.  I have a slight headache. I believe we will finish dealing with my hair in the morning.  Thank you for waiting up for me.”