Chapter Five #2
Kress had heard the entire conversation between the lady and the priest. He was a sharp man and since he could remember, he’d always had the ability to remember even the smallest conversations verbatim.
Nothing escaped him, so as the lady stammered her way through an explanation, he recalled a portion of what he’d heard.
“I will give you a new poem and you will work while we travel. I will insist you ride in the carriage with me. Once we reach Chester, you will seek out the cathedral there and find men willing to share in the profits of the cards.” He watched her eyes widen as he repeated what she’d said, word for word.
“That was what you told him. I heard you. What are you planning with him, my lady?”
Cadelyn was shocked that he’d been able to repeat her conversation perfectly. If he’d heard that, then he’d probably heard the rest of it. Her only defense was to become outraged at him, to try and make him feel guilty for having overheard her and nosing his way into her affairs.
She was going down, but not without a fight.
“Do you always listen in on private conversations?” she demanded. “What you heard was something you did not have permission to hear and I do not have to tell you anything because it does not concern you. Now, get out of my way. I must return to Castle Rising.”
She started to move around him but he reached out and grabbed her by the arm.
“You are not going anywhere alone,” he growled.
“My lady, I know you are aware of your identity. I know you are aware that you are a very valuable commodity and the fact that you would risk your safety to ride into town, at night no less, shows either a complete disregard for your very life or complete foolishness. In any case, you will no longer go alone anywhere, ever again. For your own sake, you must not.”
Cadelyn yanked her arm from his grip, looking at him as if he’d just said something horrible to her. “I shall do as I like and you cannot tell me otherwise.”
“Aye, I can.”
She was backing away from him, across the small avenue, with her horse tethered in the shadows on the other side.
“Why?” she demanded. “Because William Marshal said so? I’ve only met the man twice in my lifetime and he has never showed any particular interest towards me until now. And I must do as he says? It is outrageous that I should be expected to.”
Kress was following her, step for step, so she couldn’t get away from him. “Outrageous or not, it is the truth. We must all take orders at one time or another. This is your time.”
She came to a halt, facing him in the darkness.
“Do you even have an ounce of compassion in you, Knight?” she asked, but there was little force behind it.
“Or are you just like all the others of your kind, bred for blood and battle, looking upon life as something without worth? You called me a valuable commodity, which tells me you do not see me as a woman of flesh and blood. You see me as a thing. Well, I am not a thing, Sir Kress de Rhydian. I am a woman with thoughts and feelings and emotion, and I do not like that you do not see me that way.”
Kress’ gaze was fixed upon her, clearly contemplating what she’d said. At least, Cadelyn hoped so. With men of his sort, it was difficult to tell.
“Clearly, I do see you as a woman of flesh and blood,” he said after a moment, his tone considerably softer. “When I saw you in town today, I saw you as all those things. Or did you forget that encounter?”
Cadelyn was caught off-guard by the sound of his voice, like steel encased in velvet.
It was hard and soft at the same time, but there was great power to it.
Oddly enough, it seemed to break her down more than anything harsh he had said so far.
Now, he was referring back to the moment they’d first met, a moment that had made her feel giddy as she’d never felt in her life.
It was a welcome respite from the subject at hand to revisit those feelings.
“I did not forget,” she said, her voice softer as well. “Thank you for not telling Padraig of our meeting. He would not have been pleased.”
Kress didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, he dug into the pocket of his tunic and pulled forth the card she had given him. He held it up so she could see it in the darkness.
“I really was going to come back to Lynn and find you when all of this was finished,” he said, a glimmer of mirth in his eyes.
“But I see that I did not have to wait that long. It is a pity that you are… well, it does not matter. I shall always look upon this card and remember our first meeting with fondness.”
Cadelyn stared at the card, seeing the loss of everything she held dear in that wooden shingle. Her life as she wanted it, as she loved it, her freedom… everything was wrapped up in that small wooden card. She felt incredibly defeated at that moment.
“What is a pity?” she asked him. “You were going to say something about me was a pity. What was it?”
He shook his head. “It does not matter,” he said. “What matters is taking you back to Castle Rising. Hopefully, they will not have missed you, but if they do, I will have to tell them that I found you in town.”
“And nothing more?”
He held up the card a little higher. “I have a suspicion that this little card was what you were discussing with the priest,” he said.
“When you spoke of it this afternoon, you did not seem shocked by the subject matter. In fact, you started to tell me about the cards until Susanna interrupted. What were you going to tell me, Lady Cadie?”
He used her nickname, what everyone called her at Castle Rising, and as he said it, something inside her changed.
He was a stranger, a seasoned and serious knight, and as he said, he was to be her shadow.
William Marshal had dictated it. Susanna knew about the cards, as did Lily-Elsie, but Cadelyn couldn’t see herself confiding in the knight, especially since she didn’t even know him.
But in calling her Lady Cadie, there was something inside her that wanted to know him.
She’d felt it from the start.
The moment she saw him in Lynn today, there had been something special about him.
When she’d finished berating him for nearly running her down, she took a second look at him to see what a truly fine male specimen he was.
He’d had a smile that made her feel warm and nervous in the brief flash she saw of it.
A man like that would have been someone she would have been most agreeable to a courtship with but, instead, she was betrothed to a man she’d never seen before and the bitterness, the resentment, was more than she could bear.
“I do not even remember what I was going to tell you,” she said, somewhat evasively.
“Mayhap it had nothing to do with the cards. Mayhap I was simply going to pretend to be someone I was not. Mayhap I would have pretended I was not who I am, and there was no betrothal, and I was free to speak to a man who flashed his handsome smile at me. Mayhap I was going to allow you to buy me sweets. Mayhap it was going to be any one of those things, but I do not remember. It does not matter now, anyway. We shall never know.”
Kress could hear the self-pity in her voice. He’d been told that she was not agreeable to the betrothal but now he could see the truth of it. She didn’t seem angry, merely sad.
Very sad at what was to come.
“Mayhap that is best,” he said, feeling oddly sad himself. “For certain, I could have become quite smitten with a pretty lass with big dimples. Your future husband is a very fortunate man.”
That wasn’t something Cadelyn wanted to hear. “The sentiment is not mutual. Surely you see that.”
Kress did. Reaching out, he grasped her gently by the elbow and turned her towards her horse. “I can,” he said. “But you are not the first reluctant bride and you surely will not be the last.”
“Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?”
“What you said – about becoming quite smitten with a pretty lass with dimples.”
He grinned, lopsided. “Possibly.”
“Then you do not know for certain?”
“I know for certain. But I will not speak on such things.”
She came to a stop and faced him. “Please,” she begged softly. “My lord, I am condemned to marry a man I do not know. My time as an unwed woman is limited and I may never again hear a man tell me that he could become quite smitten with me. Won’t you tell me what you meant?”
He looked at her, a petite woman that came to his sternum when they stood next to each other. “I think what I meant is obvious,” he said quietly. “But I will say no more than that.”
“Please? If you tell me, I shall reciprocate.”
He cocked his head curiously. “With what?” he asked. Then, he quickly put up a hand. “Do not tell me. This must not go any further. When I first met you, I did not know who you were, but now that I know, to tell you of my thoughts would be inappropriate at best.”
The eagerness and interest that had been alight in her eyes abruptly faded and Kress felt bad, as if he had just stomped on the woman’s hopes. He watched her expression tighten as she lowered her gaze.
“I apologize,” she murmured. “I did not mean to coerce you into doing something dishonorable. That was never my intention. I simply wanted to know what it is you were thinking when we first met.”
Kress looked at that pretty face. In fact, he couldn’t really stop looking at her.
She was such a pale, angelic creature, but when she turned those big, dark eyes on him, he had a difficult time holding a thought.
She looked so fragile with her blonde hair and creamy skin, but the woman was anything but fragile.
Padraig had been correct; there was something about her that commanded respect.
She had a presence like nothing he’d ever seen before with a woman. It was truly astonishing.
“I told you,” he said after a moment. “I thought you were a pretty lass with dimples and I am sure your intended will think the same thing.”
She looked at him, then. “Do you know my intended?”