Chapter Eleven #2
He began yanking them off of her, throwing them to the floor. The entire area around the bed was littered with wet rags in little time. Adam still stood beside the bed, dodging the wet cloths as Matthew tossed them about.
“We were worried for you, my lady,” the old man said. “We feared the worst.”
Alixandrea refocused on him, still surprised to see him. “And what of you?” she murmured. “The last I saw, you were lying in bed, gravely injured.”
Adam smiled. “I was. But it is not my time yet. So here I am, recovering, and a prickly burden to my sons.”
Alixandrea’s bronze eyes fixed on him, heavy with emotion. “Sir Adam,” she said softly. “I must say something. I am sorry if I said anything that would cause you to… well, harm yourself. It was never my intent. I only thought to.…”
Adam cut her off, his brow furrowed. “Is that what you thought?” he was mildly indignant.
He looked at Matthew, standing on the other side of the bed and listening carefully to the conversation.
His indignant stance left him. “That is what they all thought, my sons. They thought that I had thrown myself in front of a racing carriage. But I did not. I simply did not see the thing until it was too late.”
Alixandrea closed her eyes, tightly. A single tear popped from her left one, trailing down her temple. Matthew saw it.
“What’s wrong, love?” he asked softly, wiping the tear away with his thumb. “Why do you weep?”
She burst into tears, as much as her weakened state would allow. “I thought I’d killed him.”
Matthew was back on his knees, his hands warm and gentle on her arms, her shoulders. “Why on earth would you think that?”
She could not stop the tears. “Because he was so upset when I spoke to him about your mother. You had warned me, Matthew. You had told me he was easily upset, but I did not listen. I thought I could help him. I was afraid I’d driven him to desperation with my clumsy attempt.”
Matthew was genuinely baffled. She was so distressed that he took her carefully in his arms, holding her against his chest. She seemed so light, so weak. He pulled her closer.
“You did indeed help him,” he murmured into her damp hair. “What happened was an accident and nothing more.” He held her back so he could look into her pale face. “Is that why you ended up at the church? Did you run away because you thought you had caused his death?”
She sniffled, tears easing as she found strength in Matthew’s powerful arms. When he held her, all was right in the world again. She tried to think on what he was saying, but the more she thought, the more it did not make much sense to her.
“I do not know about a church,” she said. “I… I remember your father’s accident. I remember walking outside. I kept walking… I remember that I was upset in thinking I’d finally driven your father to kill himself. But I do not remember much more than that. What happened to me?”
He could tell by her expression that she was being completely truthful. He gathered her up against him again, so incredibly grateful that she was alive. God only knew what could have happened to her had the fortunes not been kinder.
“It doesn’t matter,” he whispered. “All that matters is that you are here, and you are going to get well. I shall not leave your side, I swear it.”
“Then you are not angry with me for upsetting your father?”
“He was not upset. You helped him more than you know. And what happened to him was an accident.”
“My own stupid fault,” Adam put in.
Alixandrea pulled her face from Matthew’s shoulder, looking over at her father-in-law. He seemed well enough. Every horrible thought she had over the past day, or few days that she could remember, seemed like a nightmare. She leaned back against her husband, relieved and spent.
“Then I must tell you how glad I am to see you,” she said to Adam. “For I never thought to again.”
Matthew kissed her forehead, lingering over it, allowing himself one last stab of fear and pain at the events of the past few days. It was over, thank God.
“Nor did we, you.”
*
London wasn’t anything she had imagined it to be.
Living far to the north as she had all of her life, she had built up a vision of the city that was something akin to Heaven.
She had imagined finely dressed people everywhere and streets paved of gold.
As she rode in the carriage just behind her husband’s war horse and the outskirts of the berg loomed into view, nothing could have been further from the truth.
The dirt streets were full of mud, the gutters fragrant with human feces, urine, and in many cases, animal carcasses.
After the heavy rains of the past few days, the sun was had come out, heating up the earth and creating a stench that had to be experienced to be believed.
The men could smell it, but it did not offend them as it did the women.
It wasn’t long before Alixandrea and Caroline gave up their sight-seeing, pulled their heads back into the carriage, and plugged their noses.
Adam was still on the mend and did not make the trip. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John were in full battle mode, however, and rode in various positions around the carriage, surrounded by the fifty men-at-arms that Gaston had left behind at Rosehill.
Gaston had returned to Windsor several days prior when it was clear that Alixandrea was going to reclaim her health.
From Windsor, he had moved their troops to London.
Whatever activity was taking place at this particular time was taking place at the Tower of London, and the great stone bastion beat with a pulse as the heart of England.
It had been nine days since Alixandrea’s brush with the horrendous fever.
She had regained her strength quickly, eating whatever Aunt Livia would put in front of her.
She also quickly discovered that the old lady did not spend much time with the females of the Wellesbourne family; her time was spent with her beloved nephews.
Matthew said it was because she craved male attention and it was clear that Aunt Livia did not like to share their attention.
Whatever the case, she had been present during Alixandrea’s recovery only to force food down her throat.
Alixandrea’s impression of her was, as of yet, undetermined.
She could not decide between thinking her to be a sweet old woman or a self-absorbed shrew.
On this fine and sunny day, Alixandrea felt better than she had in a long while.
If the stench hadn’t been so bad, the day would have been perfect.
She could look out of the carriage window and see her husband’s legs as he rode astride his charger.
True to his word, he hadn’t left her side since she had emerged from her fever except on rare occasion.
Even now, he kept dipping his head down to catch a glimpse of her in the carriage as if to make sure she was still there. His actions made her smile.
“You keep watching me as if I am going to disappear,” she said to him the next time he dipped his helmed head. “I promise that I am not going anywhere.”
She could not see his expression because his visor was down. He slowed the charger so that he could move closer to the window.
“I know this carriage makes you ill,” he said. “I am simply making sure you are well.”
She leaned out of the window, gazing up at him. The sun was bright and she squinted. “I am well,” she assured him. “When will we arrive at the Tower?”
“Shortly,” he said. “But I thought you wanted to visit the Street of the Jewelers.”
Her expression bloomed. “I do,” she exclaimed. “When will we be there?”
Luke was a few paces behind Matthew, listening to the conversation. “Soon enough, my lady,” he answered before Matthew could. “But I can assure you that there will be nothing within those stalls that can compare with your beauty. You put the finest adornments to shame.”
Alixandrea grinned as Matthew turned his helmed head in the direction of his brother. “Luke, I swear that if I hear you flatter my wife one more time, you and I shall come to blows. I am the only one who may flatter her. Do you comprehend?”
Luke put up a hand in surrender, but Alixandrea was sure he was smiling.
“Were I not married, I am sure your honeyed words would have worked their magic,” she told him. “As it is, I fear you have only roused my husband’s anger.”
“That is not hard to do, my lady, where you are concerned.”
She continued grinning at Luke as the knight waved to her and slowed his charger, enough so that the carriage passed him almost completely.
It was clear that he did not want to provoke his older, bigger brother, in good humor though it might be.
They all knew that Matthew had been particularly sensitive lately where his wife was concerned. Alixandrea looked up at her husband.
“You did not have to be so cruel to him,” she said.
“I was not cruel.”
“Will you not lift your visor when you are speaking to me? I feel as if I am speaking to a statue.”
His response was to flip his visor up, his blue eyes twinkling at her and a smile playing on his lips. “Better?”
She nodded. “Verily. Now, tell me; after the Street of the Jewelers, where are we going?”
“To the Tower.”
“And then what?”
He sighed, lifting an eyebrow. “Do you always ask so many questions?”
“I do. Please do me the courtesy of answering.”
He scratched his cheek with a great mailed glove, glancing about as if he was thinking of a reply. “Well,” he began, “I suppose you could say that I have a surprise for you.”
Her eyes lit up. “A surprise? What is it?”
“De Russe has informed me that the king has arranged a tourney in celebration of the summer season. It seems that it is becoming an annual event, for he has done the same thing for the past two years. In any case, the tourney will be the day after tomorrow; a vast, vulgar spectacle of knights and pageantry. You have never seen anything like it.”
She clapped her hands in delight. “And we are going!”
“I am competing.”