Desired (26 page)

In the late afternoon the Black Prince and Christian Hawksblood finally laid aside their swords and shields.

“Are you trying to cripple me?” Edward asked in half-jest.

“No, I’m trying to exhaust you.” Christian looked about to see who listened. “I want you to
sleep
tonight, Your Highness.”

Prince Edward grinned. “Point taken, Hawksblood.”

All four ladies dined in the hall. Their host, Prince Edward, tried to give them equal attention and luckily it was only Hawksblood and his squires who noticed the intense looks he cast at Lady Kent every few moments. And fortunately it was only Brianna and Glynis who noticed Joan’s dreamy euphoria.

To protect Joan’s reputation, the ladies retired from the hall together. Then Hawksblood kept Edward talking at table a full half-hour before he gave up trying to have an intelligent conversation. “Go to her for God’s sake, before you drown in need.”

Bedford lay twenty-five miles to the north of Berkhamsted and it would take the ox carts from dawn until dusk to cover the distance.

Brianna was far more amenable to engaging Hawksblood in conversation today. He had traveled the world extensively and the ladies were fascinated to hear of the customs in foreign lands. He couldn’t resist needling Brianna about her imminent betrothal. “Since you ladies will soon be wed, would you like me to describe how we go about it in Arabia?”

“Oh yes,” Adele enthused, blissfully unaware of the undercurrents.

Hiding his amusement, he said, “A man of my ancestry is allowed countless slaves and concubines, but only four wives.”

Adele gasped, Brianna bristled. Aquamarine eyes held hers as he said, “When an Arab falls in love, he loses all reason!”

Joan gave him her rapt attention.

“My bride would sit upon a golden mat studded with rubies and sapphires. I would shower her with a thousand
pearls from the Arabian Gulf. Each guest would be presented with a ball of musk containing a slip of paper promising a racehorse, an estate, or perhaps a slave girl.”

“Surely no country has so much wealth?” Adele asked.

“Ah, you forget,” said Brianna sweetly, “Prince Drakkar is Arabian royalty.” She cast him a sideways glance. “At what part of the ceremony do you present her with your scimitar, Killbride? Or is that done in private?”

Hawksblood fixed Paddy with a searing look of accusation.

Teats of Fatima
, thought Paddy,
he’ll have my balls for this one!

By the time the landmarks of Bedford came into view, it was evening. Brianna felt such a wave of nostalgia at the outline of the Chilterns rising before her, a lump came into her throat. The grass-covered chalk slopes that rose and fell so gently offered magnificent, panoramic views of the unspoiled glories of nature.

Compared with Windsor and Berkhamsted, Bedford Castle was small and Brianna suddenly wondered if it could accommodate such a large party of carters and men-at-arms. She needn’t have worried, for Hawksblood bade the men set up tents in a meadow close by the castle. He and his squires escorted the ladies under the portcullis and into the bailey, but once he had turned them over to her household chamberlain, Sir James Burke, he returned to his men.

Mr. Burke welcomed her with open arms. He had come with her mother and Adele from Ireland when they were little more than children. He insisted that Brianna have her mother’s chamber and of course Adele took her old room, which evoked happy memories for her. Curled on the end of her bed was an old striped tomcat she had named Clancy. He opened his eyes wide at the sight of her and she could have sworn his greeting sounded exactly like “Adele?” When she kissed him, Clancy closed his eyes and began to purr.

Joan and Glynis were given adjoining chambers with views of the poetic beauty of the Chilterns. Two maids scurried about, plenishing the chambers while Mr. Burke took himself off to the kitchens to make sure the cook did not
skimp on anything for the newly returned mistress of Bedford.

Next morning, Brianna arose early so she could ramble through the gardens on her own. The magnificent rhododendrons were in full bloom, setting off the mellowed Bedfordshire stone of the castle, but she wondered what had happened to all the flowers. Even the pretty quarry garden had been converted from flowers to herbs.

On her way to the solar, she encountered Mr. Burke and invited him into the light-filled room where her mother had spent so many hours. He sat across from Brianna, marveling at the beautiful young woman who had replaced the girl who had left five years before. She was lovelier even than her mother had been. Her hair was brighter than newly minted coins.

“Mr. Burke, where have all the flowers gone? I remember Mother used to fill the rooms with them.”

“I’m sorry about the flowers, my lady. I had to economize more and more over the years. We now have a flourishing kitchen garden that feeds the people of the castle.”

“I always assumed there was lots of money, Mr. Burke. You know I don’t administer my own estate. The money goes to the crown to be administered on my behalf.”

“Yes, my lady, and I receive a percentage of what Bedford produces to run the household, but it has diminished steadily every year. I’m sorry the place doesn’t flourish as it did when your father was alive.”

“Our stone doesn’t fetch in the revenue it used to?”

“I don’t know, my lady. Your father appointed his own man, Sir Neville Wiggs, as castellan. I was your mother’s man. I am only in charge of the household.”

“Oh, I see,” Brianna said. “What about the people in our villages?”

“Truth to tell, the peasants have a meager existence. They have a hard enough time keeping their bellies filled, so they don’t produce much in the fields.”

“I’m to be married soon, Mr. Burke, to the son of the Earl of Warrick. Perhaps things will change for the better when Bedford is administered by the De Beauchamps.”

“Ah, lady, I am happy the king has chosen such a noble family for you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Burke. This solar brings back such poignant memories of my mother. I’d love to talk with you about her.”

“This is where she did most of her painting and some-times she’d sit up half the night writing her legends.” He looked at her keenly, wondering what she remembered or what she’d overheard. “She had the second sight, you know. Sometimes she had mystic visions.”

“What were they about, Mr. Burke?”

“Anything and everything. She knew you were going to be a girl-child right from the beginning.”

“They were likely disappointed that I wasn’t a boy.”

“Nay, lass, I believe she somehow knew if she ever conceived a son, it would be the death of her. She never told your father, of course. Theirs was a true love match. She adapted well to Bedfordshire and the people loved her.”

Brianna was filled with a bittersweet sadness for what might have been. If only her parents had lived, what a happy family they would have been. It was what she wanted more than anything in the world. She wanted Bedford to prosper and she wanted to fill it with her own children. Perhaps the castle would never flourish until it enclosed a happy family within its mellowed stones.

“Your mother even foretold the decline of this proud old place. But after she had you, she told me she had a vision of the man who would be your destiny and she told me he would be Bedford’s salvation.”

Brianna was wildly curious about the man her mother had seen, yet she hesitated asking Mr. Burke for details. “More than anything in the world I want Bedford to prosper. I hope her prophecy comes to pass.”

“She said that Bedford would suffer a worm at its core, but the great noble who bestowed his love upon you would root out the rot, before your children were conceived.”

Brianna held her breath. “Did she mention the man’s coloring? Was he fair?”

“Nay, lass, she always referred to him as the Dark Knight.”

Brianna let out her breath slowly, a sense of destiny beginning to enfold her. If she listened to her heart, it told
her Christian de Beauchamp was that destiny. If she listened to her head, it told her she was pledged to Robert de Beauchamp for better or for worse.

A
dele took Joan and Glynis on a tour of Bedford and its villages while Brianna was content to examine all the things that had belonged to her mother. Her chamber still held some of her clothes, layered with woodruff, and carefully stored in a heavy trunk. Her sketches and paints were stacked in an alcove of the solar. There were so many, Brianna was immersed for hours in the pleasure of discovery.

Some of the sketches were on parchment that had turned brown with age, but the colors her mother had used to illustrate some of her legends were as brilliant as if they had been done yesterday. Brianna came across several drawings of a mail-clad knight. The man had an aura of dark mystery about him, as well as a decidedly dangerous quality. If Brianna had not known it was impossible, she would have sworn her mother had used Hawksblood for her model.

She took one over to the large oriel window to examine the dark features more closely and there below in the bailey, talking earnestly with Mr. Burke, was the man himself. It was as if she had conjured him. Both men’s faces were grave, as if they discussed a subject that was deadly serious. She wondered what Hawksblood spoke of to
her
Mr. Burke.

She wondered how far along with the stone cutting they were and how many days she would be allowed to remain in this pleasant haven. Brianna decided to join them and inquire immediately.

“How much stone has been cut?” she asked tentatively.

“None,” Hawksblood replied almost curtly.

Obviously, he wasn’t about to offer her an explanation, so she demanded with great hauteur, “Why not?”

“I have other priorities,” he replied flatly.

“Such as?” she inquired sweetly.

He frowned, impatient at her questions. “Hunting for one thing. The accounts for another.” He turned from her and again addressed Burke. “More later, on the matter we discussed,” and turned on his heel.

As Brianna’s mouth fell open, she heard Mr. Burke say, “Thank you, my lord, you have saved the day.”

Mr. Burke hurried to explain. “He has been so generous and helpful, I don’t know how I would have managed without him. He and his men have been hunting since first light. Now I have enough game, rabbits, and venison to feed all the men who came with you, as well as everyone in the castle, for a fortnight.”

Brianna was only slightly mollified. As she and her chamberlain walked back into the castle, she said, “The hunting might be appreciated, but how dare he scrutinize the accounts?”

“Oh, I think he has the right, Lady Brianna, as the king’s representative and as Warrick’s. I, for one, welcome an audit. I know my accounting is scrupulous, but I have long suspected irregularities in the castellan’s books.”

“Sir Neville Wiggs?” she demanded. “What irregularities do you suspect?”

“Suspicions are not enough, my lady. Let us leave the matter in the capable hands of Sir Christian.”

So, he already had Mr. Burke eating out of his hand. Sooner or later he controlled everyone so they were eager to do his bidding.

Brianna joined the other ladies for dinner and was surprised when she saw that every seat was filled, both by the men of Bedford, and the men who had traveled with Hawksblood.

Joan and Glynis chatted on about the things Adele had shown them that day, but Brianna listened with only half a mind. Her attention was elsewhere on undercurrents that seemed to flow about the hall.

Sir Neville Wiggs and his men sat on one side, while Burke, Hawksblood, and his squires sat opposite. The carters and Hawksblood’s men-at-arms mixed freely with the servants and grooms of Bedford Castle, but Wiggs and
his men held themselves aloof and Brianna could see they were surly with suppressed anger. Her glance traveled to Hawksblood, who once again was in deep conversation with Mr. Burke. They did not look exactly angry, but they were certainly serious.

As she watched him, she couldn’t help but notice he was the most dominant man in the hall. He had an air of supreme confidence and command, as if he were in his own castle and was master over every stick and stone, every man jack within its crenellated walls. No matter where he went, he was treated with deference, even by the Plantagenets, and Brianna concluded that this was because of his secret power.

When the meal was over, the men began to cast dice and the ladies retired to the solar, where Adele showed off her talent with the lute and the Irish harp. She had a lovely soft voice and as Brianna listened it evoked memories of her mother and her childhood.

By the time she retired to her chamber, she was in a strange, reflective mood. She half undressed, then she felt the irresistible lure of the old trunk that held her mother’s things. She sat on the floor and slowly lifted the heavy lid. A smell like new-mown hay drifted up from the layers of clothing as Brianna took out a night rail. It was made of Irish lace in a shade of unbleached ecru, finely spun as a spider’s web. She lifted the candle to examine the lace more closely and saw it was done in an ancient Celtic pattern, very similar to the ribbon painting she designed as borders for her parchments. The symbols and animals had mystic properties with no beginning, no end, but rather they were seamless and intertwined.