Kissing the Bride (Medieval 4)

“Henry?”

He looked around. She was standing on the roof of the tower behind him, a shadow against the predawn sky, her cloak wrapped about her, and the torchlight in her hair. Henry took a final glance at the peaceful Gunlinghorn countryside and walked toward her. As he drew closer, he saw that her face was pale and tired, but the anxiety that had drawn lines upon it had gone.

She was as beautiful as ever.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked her, taking her arm and leading her inside, down the stairs. The castle was at rest, its young master home and safe, and everything had returned to normal. Well, almost.

“I was looking for you.”

“I am making sure we are protected, Jenova. I promised to do that, and that is what I am doing.”

They had reached the landing on the stairs, the same place they had made love and he had blurted out his proposal. He didn’t dare imagine he would ever hold her like that again; he was still coming to terms with the fact that she had so readily accepted his time at le château de Nuit.

And yet maybe this was a night for taking chances….

“What will happen?” she was asking.

“I am hoping the army from Crevitch will arrive soon, and I have sent a messenger to the Regent, Archbishop Lanfranc, to explain to him what Baldessare has been up to. He will not escape punishment, Jenova, not this time. I will make certain of it.”

Jenova hoped he was right. She did not know how she would continue to live here, with such a man on her border. Especially if Henry was not here to support her, to stand behind her like the wonderful man he was. She had thought, after the maelstrom of the night, that he would never leave. But now, after what he had said to Raf, Jenova was no longer sure.

“Jenova,” he said softly. He still hadn’t shaved. Soon he would have a beard like a Saxon. “I will only ask this once. I know how unworthy I am, and I do not think I have the courage to ask again. And I am tired. So very tired. I want to rest. I want to sleep for a hundred years, and I want you in my arms when I awake.”

His eyes met hers, so somber, so vulnerable.

“My lord!” They both looked up, startled, memories of the past hours resurfacing with a sickening lurch. Jenova went pale, and Henry slid his arm about her, holding her against him as Reynard thrust his way onto the stairs below them.

“What is it, man! You will wake Raf.”

Reynard had the grace to look sheepish, but the urgency in his eyes didn’t go away. “My lord, I have Master Will in the hall below. He has come from Gunlinghorn Harbor. He says that the priest has taken passage on one of the boats about to leave—”

Henry was gone, pushing past him down the stairs and into the great hall.

Sleeping bodies lay on benches and mattresses; it was early yet. Outside, a cock began to crow. Master Will was standing by what was left of the fire, and he turned eagerly as Henry strode toward him.

“My lord, the priest…I know he is no friend of yours—I was there at the harbor when he rode down to speak with you. He is back there now, at the harbor. He has taken passage on one of the Channel traders. He came not an hour ago, with plenty of money to buy himself a place aboard.”

?

??And they gave it to him?”

“At first the captain was hesitant—the priest wants to take that accursed black stallion with him. But the priest offered him a goodly amount, and the captain has agreed.”

“When do they leave?”

“Now, my lord. That is what I came to tell you! The tide is on the turn now, and they leave with it!”

Henry spun around, spying Reynard behind him and Jenova hurrying for the door. “You will take charge while I am gone, Reynard,” he said, already moving away. “I will stop him if I can.” He kicked at some of his men as he passed, waking them, shouting for them to get up. The rattle of swords and shuffle of boots followed him out.

Reynard and Master Will looked at each other.

“You did well to bring this news to us,” Reynard said. “Lord Henry will be grateful.”

Master Will nodded, his pale eyes gleaming. “I know. I trust he will be grateful enough to think of me when Gunlinghorn Harbor grows fat and rich.”

Reynard shook his head. “Lord Henry prefers men who think of the common good, my friend. Remember that.”

Master Will snorted and turned away to find some wine and food to compensate him for his journey. Reynard, watching him go, felt a warm hand on his back. He smiled before he turned.