The Commander's Desire (30 page)

Carefully, Elwytha pulled aside the layers of
rough cloth, and then she gasped. A white linen garment lay there,
carefully folded. Fine embroidery and beadwork of amber and gold
sparkled down the bodice and all the way—she shook it out—to the
floor. A beautiful nightgown, soft and beautiful, and hand finished
with crocheted lace.

Elwytha burst into tears. She deserved
nothing so fine. She’d come with treachery in her heart, and even
now plotted to leave the Commander at the altar.

“
Miss. Miss.” Mary hurried
over with a cloth to mop her tears. Comfortably, she sat next to
Elwytha. “Now miss,” she said softly. “What troubles
you?”

In that moment the cook seemed like the
mother she’d never had. Elwytha longed for comfort, but knew that
was impossible. “It’s…I don’t deserve it,” she whispered. “You are
both much too kind to me.”

“
You’re our friend, you are,
miss,” Hagma said.

“
Mayhap she’s nervous of her
wedding day,” Mary said with wisdom.

Elwytha sniffed. That was certainly true.

Hagma took the gown from her and folded it
back up again neatly. “Now you go and put it in your trunk, so it
will be ready for tomorrow night.”

Wordlessly, Elwytha nodded, and then
impulsively hugged Mary, then Hagma. “Thank you so much. I don’t
have words to tell you how much…what it means to me.”

Mary smiled. “We can see. And we wish you all
the best. The Commander is a fine man. He’ll make you a fine
husband.”

Hagma looked on in smiling agreement.

They may well be right, Elwytha finally
admitted in her heart. He was a fine man. And she couldn’t believe
that he had killed her brother. He was an honorable man. In fact,
he possessed the deepest integrity of any man she had ever met.

“
You’re right,” she said
softly. With a faint smile, she hugged the precious gown to her and
left her two friends.

Would she marry him if Richard didn’t come?
Could she?

Elwytha’s heart beat faster, considering it.
She could choose to do it. She bit her lip and fled faster through
the corridors. Heart pounding, she burst into the Commander’s
chamber. She had expected it to be empty, but her betrothed knelt
there, locking his trunk.

“
Elwytha.” He stood, tucking
the key in his pocket, and she stared at his fearsome face…half of
it. The other not. His eyes looked concerned, and he caught at her
arms when she made to dart past him. “Elwytha.” The deep voice
commanded her to look on him. “You look a frightened
doe.”

“
I…” Wordlessly, she hugged
the gown tighter to herself. She tried, faintly, to pull free of
his grasp, but he didn’t let her.

“
Would you still run from
me?” Pain flickered.

“
Nay.” In truth, she ran
from herself. From her feelings for this man. The last stone in her
heart shuddered, turning over by itself.

Lord help her, she
did
want to marry him. To
be his.

She gazed up at him wordlessly. How could
this happen? How could she want to marry the enemy Commander?

“
Speak to me,” he told
her.

“
I…I’ve been thinking on our
wedding.”

“
And?” He waited, eyes
looking dark now.

She heaved great breaths. Her lips
trembled.

“
Do you still despise it so
much?” His voice sounded harsh.

She gulped. “Nay!”

His expression gentled. “Then what is it,
Elwytha? Why do you still flee from me?”

“
I…” She heaved another
great breath. “I…wish to tell you…” All of a sudden it became
clear. No less frightening, but clear. The Prince’s voice in her
head. Words of peace between their lands. But more, her feelings
for this man. “I will marry you on the morrow. I would flee no
more.”

“
Verily?” He seemed to sense
the momentousness of her statement, though surely he had had no
inkling that she’d planned to leave him at the altar.

“
Yes.” Her eyes met his now,
heart thundering like galloping horses. “I will marry you,
Commander. Tomorrow.”

He stood very still. “Willingly?”
Apprehension and the barest hope flickered.

“
Willingly.” She added in an
unthinking whisper, “I don’t believe you killed my
brother.”

Startled, he searched her eyes, as if not
daring to believe it. “You don’t?”

“
No.” At last she admitted
this truth to him and to herself. This man would no more commit
that cowardly, heinous act than he could jump over the moon. This
she knew, deep in her soul.

The Commander grinned, a great, wide one.
“Thank you, Elwytha. Your faith in me means everything.”

Gently, he drew her close and kissed her. His
kiss seemed to seal his possession of her, but more, it hinted of
tenderness and passion…of a promise that their life together would
be good. Overcome with emotion, she melted into him. A tremble
overtook her. She hoped he was right. She hoped she was making the
right decision.

The Commander kissed her again and pulled
back. A frown lowered his brow. “You look pale. Are you aright?
Does your head hurt?”

“
No. It’s been a long, busy
day.” Busy working through thousands of different emotions.
Worrying, wondering how Richard would take her betrayal. What if he
would not agree to peace? Would the Commander still want her? That
thought scared her. She touched his arm. “I would retire early this
even, so I will be ready for the morrow.”

He nodded, scanning her features. “You have
made me happy, Elwytha,” he said in his deep, quiet voice.

She smiled back, and then slipped into her
own room. Elwytha rested her head against the closed door. She
would marry the Commander. Had she taken leave of her senses?

No. She wished for it, as she’d wished for
nothing in her life. And she believed him innocent. But what a
tangled mess it still was. Should she warn the Commander that
Richard may spit on the peace? That Richard wanted him dead? But he
must already guess that, after the attack at the pass.

Nay. She would say nothing to further
endanger her brother’s life. It was up to Elwytha to convince her
brother to accept peace. If not, then to prevent bloodshed. In
truth, the wedding may never take place. Even though the Commander
said he wanted to marry her, would he still feel that way after
Richard came and ripped the peace to shreds?

Elwytha closed her eyes and said a silent
prayer; for peace on the morrow. It was the only wish in her
heart.

Chapter
Nineteen

Elwytha awoke the next
morning
to
clear
sunshine blazing through her window. Her wedding day. She would
marry the Commander at noon.

Had her brother arrived yet? But surely his
horn would have awakened her.

A knock came at the door, and she called for
Hagma to enter.

Her friend hurried in with a huge smile.
“Aren’t you excited, miss? It’s your wedding day.”

Elwytha found she did feel excitement—and
trepidation. “Has my brother arrived?”

“
Nay, miss. But a few hours
remain until the ceremony. Plenty of time for him to
arrive.”

Elwytha felt no relief at these words. In
fact, she hoped he wouldn’t come at all.

Did she wish to marry the Commander so
dearly?

She did, heaven help her. Heart skittering
faster, thinking on the marriage ceremony ahead today, she joined
Hagma in giggling over the food, her dress, and ideas for her
hair.

Elwytha bathed after breakfast and dressed in
the blue gown, and then Hagma did her hair. She peered at it in the
Commander’s larger mirror. Doubtless he would appreciate Hagma’s
artistic hairstyles far more than her own. Her hair fell in gentle
waves, and tiny white flowers were pinned about the crown of her
head. Her cheeks looked flushed, and her blue eyes luminous.

“
You look a fairy princess,
you do, miss,” Hagma said with satisfaction. “Now, on with your
cloak. We need to ride to the chapel.”

“
Ride to the chapel?”
Elwytha was confused. “But isn’t it here at the castle?”

“
Not the one the Commander
has chosen for your wedding.”

Could it be the little chapel they’d visited
in the woods? Where she had felt convicted of her treachery and
amended her ways? Where the Commander had first kissed her?

Wonderment and emotion overtook her as they
cantered smoothly—so as not to disrupt her carefully styled
mane—and stopped outside the tiny chapel in the wood. Elwytha saw
the black stallion and a white stallion, as well as a few others
quietly tied to trees.

Elwytha and Hagma slid off their horses. The
maid had donned her finest dress, a light blue, for her duties as
maid of honor. Her eyes sparkled. She seemed just as excited about
the wedding as Elwytha.

“
Are you ready,
miss?”

“
You go first. I need to
catch my breath.”

The maid nodded and slipped inside. Elwytha
looked at the tiny chapel. In just a moment, she would truly marry
the Commander. Her brother had not arrived. Nothing would stop it
now. Just as her fluttering heart wished.

The Prince exited, his black eyes slightly
narrowed. “Are you coming, Princess?”

“
Yes, of course.”

Something glittered in his hand. It was the
sapphire necklace he’d shown her. His grandmother’s. Wordlessly,
she stared at him.

His lips tilted in a half smile. “A loan.” He
moved behind her to put it on, and she lifted her hair out of the
way. The cool necklace draped around her throat. His quick fingers
fastened it. As she lowered her hair, he said in her ear, “Do not
hurt him, Princess. Or you will pay.”

She whirled. The black gaze held hers in
steady warning. She frowned, for his words had pricked at her
happiness. “You possess few social graces, Prince. But you do
possess a suspicious mind.”

He smiled. “Deal honorably with the
Commander, and all will be well.”

“
I would not hurt him,” she
said in a low, vehement voice.

His smile edged higher. “See that you don’t.”
The Prince opened the door for her.

She gasped when she saw the interior of the
chapel. Rose petals were strewn over the floor and their delicate
scent wafted through the air. Candles burned on the altar.
Beautiful white bows adorned the ends of the pews, which were
mostly empty. Only a few armor clad warriors sat on them. And
straight ahead, down the aisle, stood the Commander. The Prince
edged by and strode to take up his position beside his friend. But
Elwytha had no eyes for anyone but the Commander.

He wore a black jerkin of the finest cloth,
and black breeches and boots. It matched his growing black hair and
the black slash of his brow. The clothes had been made to fit him.
For once, his broad, strong shoulders didn’t strain at the cloth.
They fell in crisp lines down his form. Her heart beat faster. He
looked handsome. Not a brutish warrior, but a man.

He smiled then, just for her, and she melted
inside. This man wanted to marry her. He would be her husband this
day.

With a trembling smile, she slowly stepped
down the aisle to meet him.

The priest, a short, thin man with receding
hair, began the ceremony. Slowly it progressed; the ancient
rituals, lighting the candles, listening to the priest’s words,
facing each other… The Commander’s eyes holding hers as his deep
voice promised to love and cherish her all of his life. Tears
gathered in Elwytha’s eyes as she gripped his hands and pledged her
life to him. In fact, in this sacred place, she felt the vows went
so much deeper. As though she pledged her very soul to him.

They exchanged rings. Hers was a beautiful
twisted white and yellow gold. His was a plain band. The priest
pronounced them man and wife. Then the Commander grinned and kissed
her with soul stirring passion. She blushed as they parted, hearing
raucous cheers from the warriors. The louts. But she speedily
forgot them as she smiled up at the Commander, her husband.

Her wedding had been all that she had ever
desired, and more.

The guests showered them with rose petals as
they left the church, and then they all rode back to the castle.
The Commander rode close by her side, and she kept glancing at him,
unable to believe they were finally married.

Elwytha still saw no sign of her brother as
they clopped across the castle drawbridge. Stable lads took the
animals, and the whole company entered the great hall. It was
filled to overflowing with warriors and maids and all the people of
the palace.

A great cheer went up as the Commander and
Elwytha entered. Flushed with excitement, she took the Commander’s
hand and let him lead her to the head table.

“
A toast,” the Prince said,
raising his cup when all were seated. “To my right hand and his
bride. May they enjoy many years of peace…and passion.”

Elwytha’s face flamed. Embarrassed, she
sipped from her cup. The Commander smiled at her. He didn’t appear
embarrassed, and she looked quickly away. She knew he anticipated
their night together. Her fingers trembled as she lined up her
spoon even with the edge of her trencher. Richard would not arrive
to rescue her from her fate. And indeed, wasn’t this what she
wished?

Still, her heart raced with nerves and
anxiety. Would that she could run and fly as free as a bird from
the tallest tower. But that couldn’t be, and indeed, in her heart,
she did not wish it.