Chapter Six
Which had a greater effect on her, between the sight of him being thrown off the horse or his bare chest, she could not say.
But the latter was an image she would not soon forget.
Wearing neither his helmet nor his mask, their encounter was the first time she had seen his face and the descriptions of him had not been exaggerated.
His deep-blue eyes and straight nose were accentuated perfectly by his sensual mouth.
He was more handsome than a man should be permitted, and Marion was certain he was not a man who would be so easily forgotten.
Sitting with the queen again at the midday repast, she picked at her food. A part of her wanted to go to him and sit with him while he recovered, but she was very aware that would never be permitted.
“Our cooks will be disappointed if you do not at least try some of your meal, Lady Marion,” the queen said. “You have seen he is not damaged in a permanent way and so you should take ease in that knowledge.”
“I know you are right, Your Majesty, but I do feel responsible for the distraction, for I fear ’twas my kerchief that affected his line of sight.”
“My lady, you cannot control the wind,” she said, shaking her head. “It is a normal practice for a favor to be placed in such a location and so the accident was just that.”
“Perhaps you are right,” Marion said. “I have never seen a man fall like that, and I confess, I am still affected by the event.”
“A fair statement to make. Come, let us begin our tour of the gardens. You have already seen the menagerie, and I want to show you my roses.”
Marion followed the queen to the gardens and listened intently as she described all of the wonderfully blooming varieties of the woman’s favorite flower.
Row upon row of various colors and varieties demonstrated again that God was an artist at heart.
The air was thick with the luscious floral scent enveloping them as they strolled through the garden for the next couple of hours.
Once they had seen and talked about nearly every flower there, they sat on a stone bench facing the palace.
Marion marveled at the scope of the structure in its beautiful golden-yellow sandstone.
There were too many carvings to count, but the favorite thing Marion liked about the place was how it overlooked the loch and its rolling hills beyond.
As she scanned the detail on the palace, she noticed a person looking out from a window high above them.
She didn’t have to think very hard to know who it was.
The queen appeared distracted by a butterfly that had landed on a flower close by, leaving Marion to take in the man.
Still shirtless, she let her mind drift to the memory of him standing before her, clutching his shirt and tunic when all she wanted to do was to wrap her arms around him to ensure he was unharmed.
She closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them again, he was gone.
She wondered if he was even there to begin with or if she was losing her wits.
“Do you see this?” the queen asked her.
Marion looked up to see a beautiful white butterfly perched on the woman’s hand, opening and closing its wings slowly.
“Isn’t she the most beautiful thing you have ever seen?”
“She is, my lady, but may I ask how you know ’tis a she?”
The queen looked at her with a quizzical expression. “Truthfully, I do not know. I just assume all butterflies are shes in the same way all wasps are hes,” she said with a chuckle.
“Most wasps are hes,” Marion said. “All except for the queen.”
“And for that I am grateful to be a queen of people, not creatures with stingers.”
Marion watched as the butterfly settled onto the queen’s hand and ceased its movement.
Male or female, it appeared to be content in its current location.
Marion looked up just as a man exited the palace and appeared to be making a direct path toward them.
She quickly recognized him as the man who was with the earl.
He’d said he would update her on the earl’s progress.
Her belly tightened into a knot. She prayed the news was good.
“Good afternoon, Your Majesty and my lady. I have a message from the earl for Lady Marion if I may?”
“You may share your message,” the queen said. “I trust it is not a private message?”
“No, Your Majesty, it is not a private message.” To Marion, he said, “The earl would like to share his evening meal with you; however, he is not able to navigate the stairs and so the king has offered his solar as an appropriate place to dine. You will be chaperoned by myself and a maid of your choosing if you accept.”
“I will provide an appropriate chaperone for her,” the queen said. “And my husband is correct in that the solar is spacious and offers a beautiful view of the loch and the setting sun. What time did the earl wish to dine?”
“He said to leave that up to you, Your Majesty.”
“And how did he know Lady Marion was with me?”
“He is able to see you from his chamber window, Your Majesty,” Alain said.
So, she wasn’t losing her mind. The thought of being alone with him even with a chaperone thrilled her to her core though evoked her nerves at the same time.
“Lady Marion? Will you accept the earl’s invitation?”
“Aye, Alain, you may tell the earl I will accept his invitation. I shall inform my parents.”
“And I will have a chamber prepared for you. There will be no need for you to keep your parents waiting or to travel after dark with all the potential dangers about. I shall handle everything,” the queen said and walked off briskly, talking to herself and the butterfly that did not appear to want to leave her hand.
“Come, Lady Marion. I will escort you to your father.”
Marion walked ahead of Alain and could not help but glance upward at the palace again. There he was standing in the window again, staring down at her. If her insides flip-flopped just from that notice, how on earth would she make it through an evening with his full attention on her?
She squared her shoulders and entered the courtyard and made her way to the great hall to where she had left her parents.
When she entered the hall, the queen was already speaking with her parents and the king was off to the side conversing with some of his staff and a couple of guards.
He waved his arms wide and motioned as if illustrating how something was to be carried.
“Ah, there you are, daughter. Her majesty tells me you have accepted a special invitation?”
“Aye, Father, I have if that meets with your approval.”
“Indeed, it does,” her mother said. “Her majesty said you are invited to stay here this evening, and we approve of that as well.”
Her father gave her an apologetic smile. She supposed there was no reining in her mother now, and really, Marion had other things to fret about now like what was she expected to wear and if her day dress would suffice.
“Now you must bid your parents farewell, for we need to seek out the seamstress to alter a gown if necessary. We cannot have you dining with an earl in a daywear gown. You must look like a countess.”
Marion surely did not know what a countess was supposed to look like, and she did not like to be overdone, but the look of delight in the queen’s expression at the moment was such that she would not want to deny her new friend the joy she currently displayed.
Together they entered the queen’s apartment, and Marion was immediately in awe of the adjoining chambers which included her large bed chamber, a sitting room overlooking the loch, and a bath chamber with a permanent copper tub at the center with privacy screens covered with beautiful tapestry depicting intertwining thistles and roses.
“I hope you like it. I have ordered a bath for you, and my ladies will help with your hair and to get you dressed.”
“Your Majesty, you are too kind to me.”
“It is the other way around, I assure you. It has been too long since I have had a companion, and I have enjoyed our time together tremendously over the past two days. Let me show you how grateful I am.”
Marion raised her hands, conceding utter defeat against the woman’s will. “Very well, Your Majesty, you may decorate me in any fashion you choose.”
The queen clapped her hands and flashed a broad smile as she set about to command instructions to her maids and the men she had summoned to carry water for the tub.
Before long, Marion was enveloped in steaming water scented with rosehip and lavender, and she could not recall a time when she was more fussed over in her life.
No detail was left unexplored, from her gown to her jewelry to the turn of the curls in her hair.
Thankfully the queen did not want to put Marion’s hair up and said some hair was ornament enough and did not need anything to take away from its beauty.
The one thing she did insist upon was a wreath of spray roses and thistle blossoms.
When Marion was scrubbed from head to toe, her hair was then brushed and wrapped in pieces of cloth so as to let it dry into curls. As she sat for the maids, she wondered if the earl had been preparing in the same way or if she would be overdressed to share a mere meal.
Really, she was convinced he would be attractive in a sackcloth.
Or better, nothing. Heat rose to her cheeks as she recalled his bare chest again.
She would need to put herself in check if she was to conceal her attraction.
She did not want to be perceived as wanton, but those were the exact desires she had for him. It was pointless to lie to herself.
Once her hair was dry, the maids removed the cloths and brushed her hair to a shine. Soft curls cascaded across her shoulders and her breasts. She was then moved into the dressing chamber where four gowns were hung on display.
“Your hair is glorious in this light,” the queen said. “Now come and stand by each gown so we may determine which complements you best.”