The Knight and the Dove (30 page)

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Authors: Lori Wick

Tags: #Knights and Knighthood, #Christian, #Historical Fiction, #1509-1547, #General, #Romance, #Great Britain - History - Henry VIII, #Great Britain, #Christian Fiction, #Historical, #Fiction, #Religious, #Love Stories

BOOK: The Knight and the Dove
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The footsteps on the cobbled floor halfway up the center aisle were unnerving, but Megan tried not to breathe. She nearly collapsed with relief when Bracken said, “Megan, are you here?”

Megan took a huge breath but stayed in the shadows.

“Is my mother with you?”

“No, it’s just I.”

Still wary, she emerged from the shadows but did not approach. Bracken came forward as soon as he spotted her and stopped just a foot before her. It was on his lips to make light of the tears, even chide her for overreacting to whatever had occurred, but just enough light from the window streamed onto Megan’s face to stop the words in his throat.

With her hands clenched together in front of her, Megan stood still, her eyes on Bracken’s face. She remained utterly silent as two of his long fingers came out to rest ever so gently on the underside of her jaw. Very carefully he turned her bruised cheek full into the light from the stained-glass window. The entire cheek was very red and puffy except for a raised cut and a bruise that was forming on the cheekbone.

Megan could not see his face then, or she would have witnessed the movement of his beard, his own jaw bunching, as he regarded Annora’s handiwork. He tried to control his emotions before he spoke, but he couldn’t quite manage.

“Who did this to you?” he said, knowing already.

Bracken had dropped his hand, but Megan saw it clench at his side. Even if she’d been blind, there was no mistaking the anger in his voice..

“My mother,” Megan said, and more tears came. “Please talk to her Bracken, please tell her I didn’t visit your room last night.”

Bracken’s eyes slid momentarily shut. Agony ripped through him. He should have awakened her. When he spoke, his voice was deep with regret.

“You were in my room last night, Megan,” he began, and watched her eyes go wide with shock. “But you were sound asleep.”

“Oh, no,” Megan sobbed. “I never even thought. I mean, it’s usually disruptive to me when I visit here, but I just didn’t think. And the maid is new. I never thought to warn her.”

The tears that had been trickling now came in a torrent as Bracken wrapped his arms around her. Megan sobbed into his shirt for several minutes.

Bracken’s hand was gentle beyond description as it smoothed her hair, but his heart was a mass of enraged determination. When Megan calmed some, Bracken’s hands went to her upper arms and he held her out in front of him.

“I’m taking you away from here.”

Megan blinked at him. Her eyes felt gritty as though someone had rubbed sand into them.

“Where are we going?”

“Back to Hawkings Crest.”

“What will my parents say?”

“It doesn’t matter. I won’t allow you to stay here a day longer.”

Megan opened her mouth to speak but realized she had no words. No one had ever shown her the kind of caring Bracken was now demonstrating. Her mother’s word was law, and everyone, including her father, accepted her mother’s actions, reprehensible as they were.

Suddenly lighthearted with emotion, she agreed to Bracken’s plan with just the smallest nod of her head. A moment later they were moving back outside and toward the castle, where Bracken would leave Megan in Louisa’s room and in her keeping until they could be away.

Twenty-One

B
RACKEN FOUND
L
ORD
V
INCENT
in his bedchamber. At any other time Bracken would not have disturbed him in such a place, but at the moment the older man could have been bathing and Bracken would have demanded a hearing.

“We are leaving,” he said without preamble.

Vincent nodded. “I have just been informed of Annora’s behavior. She did not handle things well; I understand how you must feel.”

“Megan will not be back.”

It wasn’t until that very moment that something in Bracken’s tone arrested Vincent’s attention. He rose from his place by the window and approached his houseguest. He gazed at the younger man for long moments before deciding he did not like what he saw—repugnance and fury.

“What do you mean she will not be back?” Vincent finally demanded.

“I mean that I’m taking Megan from Stone Lake within the hour, and she will not return here again.”

“Her dress is—”

Bracken cut the older man off with a downward slash of his hand.

“I care not for her dress. It is her safety I am thinking of—something she can not find in this castle.”

“That is ridiculous! What of the wedding?”

“The wedding will be at Hawkings Crest.”

Vincent was now angry himself. “This is my daughter you speak of. You will not tell me—” He stopped on Bracken’s short bark of mirthless laughter.

“I will tell you
many
things,” Bracken told him ruthlessly. “We speak of Megan not as your daughter but as my betrothed by Henry’s order. At one time you told me you would never countenance abuse toward Megan, but the shrew to whom you are married has become violent, and you do nothing. I will remove Megan from her claws before I become violent myself. Dress fittings or meetings of any kind will take place at Hawkings Crest, where I can keep an eye on the woman you seem incapable of controlling.”

As far as Bracken was concerned, the meeting was finished, but Vincent’s anger now spilled over. His face boiling with rage, Vincent let Bracken get as far as the door before he threw what he believed would be a lethal barb.

“And what of the fact that Megan was spotted coming from your room last night?”

“Aye,” Bracken said from the door, his voice still angry but now controlled. “She was there as you say. Asleep on her feet.”

Bracken had been the one to throw the final barb, and when the door slammed, Vincent sank into a chair. His dear Megan, so innocent of Annora’s charge, haunted his mind. Annora would never see reason. Bracken had been correct, he was incapable of controlling his wife. Vincent suddenly felt old beyond his years.

 

As when they had journeyed from Hawkings Crest, Bracken’s party once again camped in the woods. Stopping well before dark, Bracken was able to take a careful assessment of how his aunt and betrothed were faring.

Louisa looked tired, but her spirits were high. He knew for a fact that she was tremendously relieved to be leaving Annora and the situation at Stone Lake. As they ate, Bracken studied Megan’s face, her eyes specifically. He found that she did not seem overly tired, but neither did she appear to be at peace. Louisa ate with them, causing Bracken to hold his comments, but when the older woman rose to see to a private matter, Bracken spoke.

“How fare you, Megan?”

“I’m all right,” she told him humbly.

Bracken was not convinced. “Has your mother long made it a habit of striking you?”

Megan nodded. “For as long as I can remember.”

“And what would your father do?”

“Remove me, much as you have done.”

“But there were no repercussions for your mother? He never tried to change her?”

“No,” Megan said with some surprise. “I don’t think such a thing ever occurred to him.”

They fell silent for a moment, and then Megan asked the question that had been on her heart since they left the inner bailey at Stone Lake.

“My father did not come to bid us goodbye. Did you have words?”

“Yes. I told him I was taking you, and you would not be back.”

Megan stared at him. ‘What of the wedding?”

“It will take place at Hawkings Crest.”

Megan now stared into the gathered dusk. Bracken heard her sigh before she softly asked, “What if my parents do not come for the wedding?”

Bracken gently captured her jaw with his hand and spoke after he’d urged her eyes to meet his own.

“I will still make you my wife, and in so doing, I will have the authority to never again allow your mother, or anyone else, to harm you.” He steeled himself to hear her protest, but she acquiesced with a small move of her head. Bracken let his hand drop and would have reached for Megan’s small one as it lay in her lap, but Louisa was returning.

“I am glad you’re still sitting here, Bracken,” Louisa spoke with pleasure as she gracefully sank onto the rich counterpane that had been laid out on the forest floor. “I want to ask you a question. What is to be done about Megan’s dress?”

“Her dress?” Bracken frowned at his aunt and then turned his attention to Megan’s clothing. She looked fine to him in a gown of dark green with rust-colored trim. Indeed, he found her beautiful.

“Yes, Bracken,” Louisa continued patiently. “Her wedding dress.”

“Oh.” It was clearly the last thing on Bracken’s mind, and Louisa had to hide a smile. It was on her tongue to jump in with several
suggestions, but she sat patiently and let Bracken think. He did not disappoint her.

“Let us give Lady Annora a few weeks to contact Megan and possibly make reparations. If that doesn’t happen, then go to the village and do whatever it takes to see that she is properly outfitted.”

“As you wish,” Louisa stated, feeling well pleased.

Bracken stood then, his eyes sweeping back to Megan’s enchanting face, framed by an abundance of dark red curls, before once again resting on Louisa. “Spare no expense,” he told his aunt as he moved off toward his men.

 

Two weeks passed without word from Megan’s mother or father. Megan was not surprised that her mother had not been in touch, but her father’s lack of communication cut deeply. He had never been a man to lavish great attention upon her, but up until now, Megan had always felt that he cared. Now she was beginning to wonder. It was only just becoming clear to her that he had never once taken her side, at least not strongly enough to deal with Annora or suggest repercussions as Bracken had mentioned. The thought weighed on Megan’s heart. She spent much time in prayer over it, but there were times when she would take her eyes from God’s sovereignty and the situation would get her down.

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