Chapter 8
The last stretch of the journey was decidedly different. The fear that had plagued Elisande the entire way came to pass—they had caught up to Hilda and Alger. And yet, instead of it being the nightmare she’d expected, it was … fine.
Sir Henry was right. She must have thought him a monster to believe he would want to marry and bed Hilda.
Making a study of him these last few days had proven him to be a man of honor. He was courteous, considerate, respectful in his treatment of her, his men, and his horse. He was neither crude nor vile, nor any of the things she had heard when others described the feared Norman knights.
In fact, Elisande felt safer with him and his men than she had in her own home when it was occupied by her brother and his warriors.
Truly, the worst had happened, and it was turning out to be decidedly better than her life had been before she waved the white flag of surrender.
And now, Hilda was safe. Actually safe. Sir Henry had declared there was nothing for either of them to fear, and Elisande believed him. He had the power and ability to make it so.
When the priory finally came into view in the distance, her horse seemed to lengthen its stride, as if he wanted the break as much as she did.
She had no idea how long they would stay, but even a night and a day would be a welcome respite for her aching muscles.
“A good massage of the muscles will help as well,” Sir Henry had said. “After.”
Her fears on that front had also melted away like snow on a sunny spring day. Sir Henry was quite possibly the only man she did not fear. And even with the fatigue she felt in places she hadn’t known she could feel anything, Elisande felt a shiver of unexpected anticipation.
He was an honorable man—and handsome as well. His figure was also quite fine.
Elisande had to admit to herself she had not been as ladylike as she might have been while waiting on the banks of the stream as he plunged his body within it.
He was broad of shoulder and back, heavily muscled, with thick legs and arms. His dark hair lay wet against his shoulders as he roughly dried the rest of his body.
Knowing that he had used such a powerful form—at least in her case—to protect rather than destroy gave Elisande a strange kind of comfort she had never felt before.
The men sent up a cheer when they saw the priory, and Elisande prayed they would not terrify Brother Benedict and the others within.
Now she could honestly give her assent to the marriage that was to come. The most surprising outcome of the entire journey was that Elisande was actually looking forward to having Sir Henry as her husband.
And it means Auldwyn and his men can never return.
The realization that she preferred this Norman to her own kin should have made her feel disloyal, but it did not. The merits of the men were not the same, and Elisande knew it.
“Eli, bumpy!” Hilda bounced in the cart, waving her doll with the motion.
Thank goodness she was such an agreeable child.
With regard to Hilda, her only question remained.
Would he allow her to return with them? Elisande knew Hilda would need a longer respite from the journey and couldn’t imagine the knights would want to travel at this slow pace for their return.
And from how he had spoken to Alger, Elisande was certain Sir Henry would never allow him to accompany them back to the manor.
As soon as they were within a hundred strides of the priory, people began coming outside the gates to meet them.
Elisande was grateful they were not thundering toward the small settlement at the speed they had undertaken before.
She spotted Brother Benedict’s short, round form in his brown garment.
“My lady, are you all right? Have you need of sanctuary?”
“I am only in need of rest, Brother Benedict.”
“And in need of a priest to perform a wedding,” Sir Henry added as he rode up beside her and reached for the reins of her horse.
“A wedding?” Brother Benedict asked. “Whose marriage?”
“Ours. Mine and the lady’s,” Sir Henry clarified. “Without delay.”
“Lady Elisande?” He looked to her. Brother Benedict had known her since she was small. “Is this true?”
Thankful for the clarity the last few days had provided her, Elisande nodded. “Yes. Sir Henry and I wish to be married, Brother Benedict.”
Sir Henry nodded with surprised approval as he met her gaze.
“Your brother has given his blessing regarding the match?” Brother Benedict asked.
“My brother has presumably left the country and gone to Ireland, or wherever else others are seeking sanctuary following the invasion. He and his men departed as soon as word of the Normans’ impending arrival came.”
Brother Benedict looked to the heavens before meeting her gaze. “Then, absent his consent, I can only ask, are you certain, my lady?”
It felt as though everyone around her held their breath.
Elisande knew Brother Benedict was giving her every opportunity to change her mind.
He wouldn’t marry them if he believed there to be coercion.
Elisande could still choose to take vows if she desired.
She looked to Sir Henry, and he waited for her response with an unreadable expression upon his face.
She had given up hope of ever having a husband or family of her own.
And it seemed God had given her a second chance. She wasn’t going to waste it.
“Yes, Brother Benedict, I am certain. Sir Henry will make a fine husband.”
Elisande didn’t know who made the strangled sound that came from behind them, but she assumed it was Alger.
“You heard the lady. Have you any reservations about performing the ceremony, Brother?”
The monk looked at Sir Henry, and Elisande knew he appeared to be a fearsome warrior in his armor and chain mail.
“Are you a believer, Sir Henry?”
“Of course.”
“Then, no, I have no reservations if both parties come freely to the union.”
“Then we shall not delay.”
Sir Henry dismounted and reached up to lift Elisande from her saddle, as he had many times now. But this time, Elisande knew she would not mount as a maid ever again. The next time she sat atop her horse, she would be a married woman.
“You wish to do this now? In your armor?” Brother Benedict asked.
“I am a knight. It only seems fitting.”
“My lady?” Brother Benedict looked at her askance. “Would you not like time to refresh yourself? To change your clothing?”
She looked at Sir Henry. He was prepared to wed her here and now. Not in the chapel. Not in a few hours.
“You’d marry me like this? As I am? Windblown and mussed from the journey?”
“You look beautiful, my lady, and I would prefer we not delay.”
His compliment caught Elisande off guard.
“I do?”
Sir Henry nodded.
With a smile, she looked to Brother Benedict. “Is it possible?”
The monk’s lips turned upward. “As the holy scripture says, with God, all things are possible. Come into the courtyard at least. Leave your sword.”
“Sir Geoffrey, leave your sword to stand witness. The rest of you, stay here. Armed and ready.”
“Yes, sir,” they replied as he unbuckled his sword belt and handed it to Diggory.
Then Sir Henry offered his arm to her.
And with nearly three days of travel dust upon her, Elisande married a knight in full armor while standing in the priory’s courtyard as Hilda played with a doll at her feet.
For someone who had never expected to have a wedding at all, it was oddly perfect.