Chapter Three #3
Derica looked away from her so the woman could not read her expression.
“You see nothing. He came, he apologized, and we spoke. It was pleasant. The man is to be my husband, after all. Should I not know something about him?” She glanced up, seeing her brother Donat on the battlements.
He glared down at her, his usual expression.
“Do you think it would be a simple thing to talk to the man with the alligators hanging about, waiting to devour him?”
“Alligators?”
“A story for another time. Suffice it to say that if I am to be married to the man, I would come to know him at least somewhat. I know that is a ridiculous notion in this day and age, but I would like to establish some manner of rapport with him.”
“Why?”
“Because we are going to spend the rest of our lives living together. Is it wrong to want to know the person I will be living with, the father of my children?”
Aglette looked uncertain about the whole thing. “I suppose not, but… if your father hears that he has visited you in your chamber, and you without an escort, he’ll….”
Derica put up a silencing hand. “I know. It is too horrible to think of.” She paused a moment, looking about the bailey, realizing that she hoped to see Garren. “I believe this is the one man I do not want them to chase off.”
Aglette was astounded. The Derica she knew had no use for men, in any way. For her to show interest in one was astonishing. She started to reply, but the expression on her mistress’ face stopped her.
“There he is,” Derica murmured.
Aglette looked across the bailey towards the cluster of buildings that housed the stables.
As tall and strong as an oak, Garren was crossing the compound, apparently heading from the knight’s quarters to the stables.
He hadn’t seen the ladies and Derica came to a halt, watching him stroll away from her. His moves were graceful and powerful.
“How do I look?” she hissed.
Aglette peered at her. “Look what?”
Derica elbowed her in the ribs. “My dress, my hair. How do I look? Am I presentable?”
“As presentable as you always are,” Aglette replied. Her gaze moved between her mistress’ face and the massive man in the distance. “You are smitten with him.”
“I am not. I just do not want to appear unkempt or slovenly to the man I am to marry. What kind of bride do you think I am if I am anything less than composed?”
It wasn’t the reason and Aglette knew it, but she kept her mouth shut.
She watched Derica as the woman’s green eyes focused on Garren like a cat watching a mouse.
Even after he disappeared into the stable, she didn’t move.
She continued to stand there, waiting and watching, until quite some time later he reappeared.
Suddenly, she was moving. “Come along,” she whirled for the keep. “Let’s go inside.”
Aglette almost had her neck snapped by Derica’s abrupt movements. “Why the hurry?”
Derica didn’t answer. She was determinedly walking toward the keep. But in a matter of a few moments, they heard a deep male voice behind them.
“Good morn to you, ladies.”
Garren walked up, his handsome face shining in the morning sun. Derica came to a halt and turned around, very casually.
“Sir Garren,” she put up her hand to shield the sun from her eyes. “Forgive me, I did not notice you. Where did you come from?”
Aglette lifted an eyebrow at her. Whatever her mistress was up to, she was playing the game quite coyly. It was a surprise coming from a woman who, under normal circumstances, gave no thought to such things. But she wisely kept quiet.
“The stables,” Garren answered her question. “My horse was acting strangely yesterday and I wanted to see if he came up lame.”
“Did he?”
“Slightly. He’ll be no good to me for a day or so.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” Derica said. “My father has several chargers. I am sure you can borrow one should you need to.”
“Perhaps.”
Garren studied her in the bright of the day; she was dressed in pale yellow brocade, quite becoming with her coloring.
He’d spent a sleepless night, tossing and turning with thoughts of her on his mind; the sapling of confusion had grown into a yearling of stunning strength, with branches that reached into his mind to cause mass disorientation.
But he had fought the branches, the tree itself, and in the morning had awoken with the resolve to distance himself from her as much as possible.
No more sneaking into her chamber, no more private conversations.
He had to draw the line if there was to be any hope of him keeping his mission in focus.
It had been easy to reason so with distance between them.
But gazing at her, he knew that line would be extremely difficult to draw.
He was attracted to her, more than any woman he had ever met.
Knowing she was to be his wife, and he would be entitled to all of the husbandly pleasures thereof, was enough to seriously disturb him.
A woman like this could make him forget everything he had ever worked for and he was coming to comprehend something he’d never understood his entire life; why men over the centuries had died for the affection of a beautiful woman. Suddenly, it was blatantly obvious.
He knew he had to get away from her before he forgot everything he had resolved himself to over the past several hours.
“If you will excuse me, I will not burden you ladies any longer with my presence,” he said. “Good day to you.”
He walked away from them, almost too quickly, but Derica’s voice stopped him.
“Sir Garren?”
He paused, turned, and would have had to have been a blind man not to see the expression on her face. She looked as if someone had just stolen her best friend.
“My lady?”
“Have… have a pleasant day as well.”
“Thank you.”
It was harder than he could have imagined to turn and continue walking. But he had to. In fact, he had to do more.