Once He Loves (Medieval 3)

The hard-faced soldier smiled, and suddenly he did not seem so very hard. “She arrived in York at dawn, lady.”

The bundle was placed on the floor inside the room, and the door was closed firmly. Mary came and stood beside Briar, both women looking down at it in some bewilderment. “What can it be?” Mary asked uneasily.

Briar did not know, but a stab of guilt reminded her that she had wished Radulf and Lily only ill until a short time ago. Perhaps Lily had discovered it. But that was silly—Lily couldn’t read Briar’s mind. Mayhap it was a gift for the home she would make with Ivo?

She bent and slowly, cautiously, undid the ties, and rolled open the cloth to reveal the contents.

It was a gown. Made of the finest velvet, and colored a deep, luscious green—Briar’s favorite color. The skirt and bodice were embroidered with small gold and silver beads, and in the gloomy dwelling, they glittered like distant stars.

“She has sent your marriage dress,” Mary breathed, reaching to touch the luxuriant cloth with a reverent finger. “Oh, Briar, ’tis so beautiful! You will look like a queen.”

Briar, stunned at the extent of Lady Lily’s generosity, gasped as her sister hugged her tightly in her excitement.

“’Tis a pity you have only your old stockings and shoes to wear with it,” Mary added, practically.

And wondered why Briar began to laugh.

There had been little time to prepare Lord Radulf’s York house for the ceremony, but with the roaring fire in the hall and the succulent smells of a banquet cooking, it did not really matter. The big room spoke of welcome and celebration, a haven against the threatening weather outside.

The priest spoke the words to bind them together, and Briar clung to Ivo’s hand, still a little dazed by all that had happened. And so quickly. Ivo was pale, with shadows under his eyes, but there was no hiding the steady glow of happiness in them.

Radulf and Lily watched on, and although Briar was introduced to Lily, she barely remembered what she said. Afterward, it was always Ivo’s words that she recalled, when he first saw her in her green velvet wedding gown.

“Demoiselle, you are an angel,” he had breathed, taking her hands and staring down at her in wonder. The gown did suit her well, seeming to capture the secrets in her hazel eyes and causing her chestnut hair to glow where it had been combed over her back and shoulders. “My heart is too full for words,” he had added, and ’twas true, for tears filled his dark eyes.

Ivo wore a deep blue tunic with a fine linen shirt beneath, and dark breeches and soft leather boots. With his height and breadth of shoulder, he looked like the knight he had always been, in his heart. A man to be proud of.

When the priest had finished, Ivo drew her to him, carefully, as if he were afraid this were a dream and he might wake up, and kissed her lips, chastely, as befitted the solemnity of the occasion.

There was a smattering of applause. Briar’s sisters were there, their eyes shining, and Sweyn, grinning, as well as two other big men, whom Ivo had introduced as Reynard and Ethelred. They all wished her and Ivo well, and the warmth of their smiles washed over her like a happy tide.

And then Ivo laughed, losing some of his awe, and picked her up in his arms, spinning her around to the delight of the guests, until Briar’s stomach dipped, and she whispered in a soft voice that he had better stop.

“Briar?”

Briar looked into the beautiful, gentle face before her. Lady Lily was everything the rumors promised and more, ethereally fair, with gray eyes that saw straight to her heart. Briar had already stammered her thanks for the dress when she arrived at Radulf’s house, but Lily had brushed her words aside.

“Someone did the same for me when I was wed,” she said, with a little smile. “In my case ’twas not done with the best of intentions, but still I felt special. I wanted you to feel special, too, Briar. I know what it is to be poor and put upon.”

Now the ceremony was over, and the feast had come and gone. The day was dwindling into night, and still no one wanted to leave. Ivo was reminiscing with his friends, and Mary was leaning against Sweyn as if she belonged there. Jocelyn and Odo had retired long since. Ti

red, longing only to fall asleep in Ivo’s arms, Briar had found herself a quiet place in a corner to wait until she could retire. It was there that Lady Lily had found her.

She sat down on the bench beside Briar. “Radulf has told me of your troubles,” she said softly.

“Oh,” Briar replied, and could think of nothing else. The familiar guilt roiled inside her as she remembered what she had planned to do to this woman and her husband. Of course, her plan had been doomed to fail from the start because, as Ivo had said, Radulf would never have taken another woman in Lily’s place, not even for a moment. Still, that did not make what Briar had meant to do any less wicked, or make her feel any more comfortable with her own conscience.

Lily was still smiling, but her gray eyes were flinty. “Radulf tells me you hated him for your father’s misfortunes.”

Obviously, Lily did not believe in creeping around the facts. A woman after my own heart, Briar thought wryly.

“My lady,” she said firmly, “I did hate him. ’Tis true. My father vowed revenge upon Lord Radulf before he died, and I believed that I must take on that vow as my own. For two years I hated Lord Radulf and believed him solely responsible for my family’s downfall. I know now that that belief was false. Lord Radulf was as bound up in Lady Anna’s sickness as my father. I do not hate him. I do not think, on this wonderful day, that I could hate anybody.”

Lily laughed. “I am delighted to hear it.” Then she sobered and leaned closer, her gaze intent. “I wished to give you some advice, Briar, something I have learned over the years. Trust your heart. The mind is so much more insistent, so much louder. But listen hard to the soft whisper of your heart, for ’tis the heart that speaks true.”

Briar smiled, for she had done just that. Followed her heart. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I will try to do so, always.”

“You will never regret it.” Lily glanced across the room to where Radulf was standing, and as if he had felt the brush of her gaze, he looked up. Their eyes met in perfect understanding.