Chapter Thirteen
The morning broke heavy with mist. The fires from the previous night had burned into low, smoking embers that, by dawn, were being re-stoked by the soldiers.
Braxton left Gray sleeping soundly, having dressed with extreme quiet before quitting the tent. He emerged into the cold gray dawn to find Dallas standing near the larger of the fires. Smoke was heavy in the mist, clinging, as he approached his knight, now his son-in-law.
Dallas nodded as their eyes met. “My lord,” he greeted. “How does your lady wife fare this morning?”
Braxton eyed Dallas, a smile lurking on his lips as he recounted the night’s unbelievable passion. “Well enough,” he said. “Though she was terribly worried about her daughter last night. I trust all went well?”
Dallas’ demeanor moved from that of a professional soldier to one of a new bridegroom. He lifted his eyebrows. “She stopped crying, if that’s what you mean,” he said. “I believe she slept well. She is still asleep.”
Braxton nodded his head as if that was enough answer to his question. But it wasn’t. “Everything… went well?”
Dallas knew what he meant. He looked at Braxton, a slightly confused expression on his features. “It seems rather strange now that you and I are related.”
“Aye, it does. In private, you will call me Braxton, as befitting my daughter’s husband. There is no need to be so formal.”
Dallas seemed rather pleased at the prospect, though it was still a bit odd to him. “As you wish,” he said. After a moment, he answered the original question. “I did not bed her if that’s what you are asking. She would not have taken that well at all. That is something that will come with time.”
Braxton drew in a deep breath. “You would be correct had you the luxury of time,” he looked pointedly at him.
“But you do not. Suitors will be coming from now until Martinmas and you must consummate your marriage so there will never be any chance of an annulment or any other breach of contract. You married Brooke for a reason. Do I make myself clear?”
Dallas met his gaze, finally lifting his eyebrows in surrender. “You are right, of course,” he said. “But last night… that was not the night to do it.”
“It doesn’t matter. For her sake, you must do as you must. She will understand when she grows older.”
He nodded reluctantly. “As you say.”
“Before we leave for Erith, Dallas.”
“Aye.”
Silence settled between them like the fog, heavy and pensive.
They stood and watched a couple of soldiers tease the embers into a roaring blaze and put water wine on to boil.
Other soldiers were breaking down the camp and loading the wagons.
Graehm approached from a cluster of trees to tell them that the men searching for de Aughton had returned empty handed.
They had searched as far as Redmayne, several miles to the south, but had been unable to track the man. The knowledge made Braxton uneasy.
“He could not have simply disappeared,” he said. “He must be somewhere.”
“If he is, he is well hidden,” Graehm said. “We had some of our best trackers looking for him.”
Braxton’s blue-green eyes took on a distant look as his mind moved to the knight that had so boldly gone after Gray. “That may be, but they did not look in the right place.”
“What are you suggesting?”
He was silent a moment, contemplating. “If it were me, and knowing that I would be tracked, I would not try to run unless I had a very fast horse. And de Aughton was horseless. Moreover, we have all of his possessions with us – the saddlebags on his charger were filled with his money, clothes, and other items. He literally has nothing with him but the clothes on his back. So perhaps he’s not run.
Perhaps rather than move away from us, he’s moved closer.
Would you not want to recover what was rightfully yours? ”
Graehm wasn’t following him, but Dallas was. “Do you think he’s watching us even now?” he asked.
“Perhaps,” Braxton shrugged. “Where is his horse and possessions?”
“The charger is tethered with the others and his possessions are with Graehm.”
Braxton nodded faintly, his mind still working on the possible whereabouts of the vanished knight.
“As far as I know, the men did not search the vicinity of this camp. They spread out and started looking once they reached Milnthorpe. If De Aughton is watching us even now, it would be a very clever posture. He knows we would be looking elsewhere for him, not in our midst.”
Graehm looked stricken as it all suddenly made sense. “We should put an extra watch on his charger.”
“And on his possessions.”
Dallas suddenly broke away from them and marched for his tent. Braxton and Graehm watched him go. “Where are you going?” Braxton asked.
Dallas kept walking. He looked over his shoulder. “To rouse my wife and put her under my protection.”
Braxton had to agree with him. He, too, moved back for the larger tent where Gray was still sleeping.
She was the target, after all, and with this latest development he was uncomfortable leaving her alone, even just a few feet away from him.
He pushed back the tent flap, his eyes focusing on his new wife.
She was fully dressed, rolling up their pallet. When the flap moved, she looked up and her gaze locked with Braxton’s. His heart softened at the sight of her and he smiled broadly.
“Good morning, Lady de Nerra,” he went to her, putting his arms around her when she stood up to greet him. “Did you sleep well?”
She kissed him in greeting. “Better than I ever have,” she said softly, gazing into his eyes intently. “I do love sleeping in your arms.”
“And I love having you in them.”
She grinned and kissed him again. He responded with passion, with force, his mouth and tongue titillating hers. She pulled her lips away just to catch a breath, embracing him tightly.
“Oh, Braxton, how I do adore you,” she murmured.
He pulled back to look at her. His expression suggested disbelief and elation. After a moment, he cupped her face in his hands, the blue-green eyes glimmering.
“I adored you the moment I saw you wandering the falls of Erith,” he told her as if she should have already known such a thing. “That adoration has turned into love and it grows stronger by the day.”
She was speechless, breathless. “You love me?”
His brow furrowed, but there was a smile on his face. “My God, woman, how could you think anything else?”
“Because… because you have never told me until now.”
He gently squeezed the face between his hands and kissed her on the end of her pert nose. “You are right. It is my most grievous mistake. I just thought you would know.”
“Then tell me again.”
His smile broadened. “I love you madly.”
She threw her arms around his neck, squeezing tightly. “And I love you also.”
It was a pivotal moment in a morning, and a night, that had been full of them.
Braxton was so happy that he was nearly delirious, thoughts of Niclas de Aughton being pushed from his mind for the moment.
With Gray finally his wife, how could there be a horrible thing in all the world?
He spun her around, listening to her squeal.
In spite of the warm moment, however, he did remember that he had come for a reason.
He forced himself to focus whether or not he wanted to.
“I did come with a purpose,” he took his arms off her, reluctantly. “We were unable to find de Aughton last night and I am uneasy with him on the loose. We need to return to Erith immediately.”
She looked slightly fearful before nodding. “Of course, Braxton. I was already packing up.”
He looked over at Geoff. “And we need to return Geoff to a decent room and warm bed,” he wandered over to his knight, realizing the man was awake and looking at him. Somewhat surprised, he knelt down beside him. “D’uberville, how long have you been awake?”
Geoff was moving and speaking slowly. “I am not entirely sure, my lord. Before you came into the tent, at least.”
So Geoff heard everything. He felt a flash of embarrassment, an instinctive reaction to revealing his most personal thoughts in front of a subordinate. No matter, though. She was his wife and they all knew he was mad about her.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
Geoff gingerly moved his arms, twisted his spine a little. “Sore.”
By this time, Gray was leaning over Braxton’s shoulder. She smiled down at her charge. “At least you have had no fever,” she said. “We are very grateful for that.”
Geoff’s green eyes focused on her, remembering the sounds of passion from her the night before and struggling not to let his thoughts show. “I owe everything to your skill, my lady.”
Her smile broadened in thanks and she switched places with Braxton so that she could take a look at Geoff’s bandage.
Braxton left her alone with Geoff, going outside to find a couple of soldiers to start disassembling the tent.
He ran right into Norman and Edgar, who had been out in the trees collecting more firewood.
He instructed the boys to stick with Lady de Nerra and help her however needed.
Dropping the wood, the boys obediently went into the large tent to assist in the packing process.
Braxton watched them disappear into the tent, his mind moving from his wife to de Aughton.
He debated whether or not to personally make a sweep of the area; the more he thought on the knight’s movements, the more convinced he became that the man was somehow near them.
It made sense. Part of him wanted to make a search, but most of him wanted to remain with Gray for her protection.
He could not take the chance of de Aughton circumventing him somehow.
And that’s when he heard the scream.