Once Upon a Romance 03 - With True Love's Kiss (7 page)

The story of
Thomas.

As though it
came from a thousand leagues away, and without a conscious decision to do so,
she heard her voice begin speaking.

“You know
that I spent most of my childhood with the MacTíre family?”

“I do.”

“I was happy
with them; they treated me like one of their children. King Lodney had given me
over to their care completely, and Lady MacTíre told me she had always wanted a
daughter. I spent my working hours learning to read, and play the harp, and
keep accounts, and my leisure hours trailing after my foster brothers. Fain and
Liam were older, and they used to tease Jamie and me, calling at us to climb
higher, swim faster, or run farther. The only one who dared tell them when they
pushed us too far was Thomas.”

“I thought
the MacTíres had but three sons?”

“They did.
Thomas was the son of their castelaine. He was Liam’s age, but he’d grown up
working alongside his father, and always seemed much older than the rest of us.
More sober, more responsible. Even Fain listened to Thomas, and Fain almost
never listened to anyone.” She smiled at the memory, then went on. “When Thomas
wasn’t working with his father, he would come play with the rest of us. I
followed him everywhere. I’m not sure, given how much I adored the MacTíre
boys, how I ever found room in my heart to latch on to him, but I did. The
moment Thomas joined us I would abandon Jamie to Liam and Fain’s teasing, and
follow my idol around.”

“And he
cared for you, as well?”

“Oh no!
Thomas couldn’t stand me. I was always in his way. And when he didn’t pay
enough attention to me, I took to teasing him, as badly as Fain and Liam ever
teased me. If he climbed a tree I climbed it as well, only higher. If he dove
in the lake I dove deeper. If he picked a handful of berries I would pick
baskets full. I must have driven him to distraction, when we were children.”

“And yet,
you smile.”

“It’s a
funny tale. I remember the day I told him I loved him for the first time. I
must have been all of ten years old. We were having visitors that evening, and
Lady MacTíre had forbidden me to go swimming, since my hair was already clean
and brushed and braided. The boys were under no such injunction, so I was
sitting on the bank, watching them throw each other around in the water. Thomas
came up the bank to sit on the grass and let his breeches dry, and I was just
mesmerized by the way the water formed into perfect drops on his brown skin.
The words just came tumbling out of my mouth. I told him I loved him, had
always loved him, and I hoped that one day he would ask Squire MacTíre for my
hand.”

“What did he
say?”

“He gave me
a look of utter horror, and ran for the house.” Robin’s eyes were wide, but
Bianca grinned. “He was only eleven! Just a boy. And I was still a child. Oh,
my heart was broken, of course. I went sobbing to Lady MacTíre, telling her my
life was ruined, and over, and she might as well send me to the nunnery.”

“And what
did she say?”

“She said to
not despair. That we all grow up, and that in due time Thomas would see the beauty
that was right under his nose.”

“And did he?”

Bianca
sobered. “Not before we all went through a great deal of heartache. That year
was the same year that Prince Jestin and Squire MacTíre were killed on a
hunting trip with Brannon. The same trip where Fain went missing. At the time,
we didn’t know what had happened to him. The MacTíre family lost its head and
its heir, all at once, and the kingdom lost its crown prince. It seemed as
though everyone, everywhere was in mourning, and none more so than in our
little household. Lady MacTíre was grief stricken, and Liam… Liam had never
wanted to be the heir. But when Fain went missing he stepped forward to do his
duty. He asked Thomas to tutor him, to teach him how to run the estate. Thomas’s
father and Lady MacTíre kept things running smoothly, while Liam frantically
tried to cram years of learning into his head. Meanwhile Jamie and I were
rather at loose ends. We’d lost a father and a brother, but really it was
though we had lost our whole world.”

“What happened?”

“Time
passed. We all learned to fill the gaps that had been left behind. For my part,
I tried to take care of Jamie, and take over some of Lady MacTíre’s household
duties, so that she would be free to focus on business. The kingdom itself was
in turmoil, with Prince Jestin’s death, and King Lodney was full of grief and
care. He only sent two messages, one consoling us on the death of the Squire
and Fain, and another a few years later that I never saw, but can well guess at
the contents.”

“Why? What
do you think it said?”

“I was
getting older. Still young, but marriageable for all that. After the king’s
second message, Lady MacTíre had a long talk with me one evening about my
prospects. I suspect the king was concerned, given Brannon’s new status as the
crown prince, that someone would try to woo me in order to gain a position at
court. At any rate, Lady MacTíre assured me that she wouldn’t force me to wed
so early, but that a decision regarding my husband would have to be made, soon.
I was heartbroken, and when she dismissed me I ran to the stables. I don’t know
what I thought I would do—run away, or just throw myself in the straw and
cry—but it turned out that Thomas was there.”

Each moment
was still crystal clear in Bianca’s memory. How she’d stumbled against the door
on her way in, and the sound had made Thomas turn towards her. The look on his
face when he saw her tears, and how the words had come tumbling out of him, as
though he couldn’t help it.

Bianca,
sweetheart, what’s wrong?

She’d fallen
into his arms, letting him sweep her up and settle her against his chest, while
she sobbed out her fear, that she would be promised to a stranger, someone she
could never love, all because of who her father was. He’d lifted her up and
walked to the corner of a paddock, where an old trunk of riding leathers made a
handy bench, then settled her down on his lap, brushing her hair gently from
her forehead, wiping her tears, and murmuring reassurances.

“Well, what
happened?”

Bianca
hesitated, unsure of how to convey those sweet moments in mundane words.

“He told me
not to worry, that he would speak to Lady MacTíre, and, when we were old
enough, we would be married.”

He’d kissed
her, too, for the first time, sitting there on that hard, wooden chest, with
her face tear-stained and her heart singing for joy.

“Lady
MacTíre was satisfied with the match. I would be able to stay with her, as
Thomas grew to take his father’s position, and it was a fine place for the
bastard daughter of a prince. King Lodney agreed as well, presumably well
pleased that it would keep me safe and sound and a suitable distance from
court. And Thomas and I—” She hesitated. There weren’t really words to describe
how happy she’d been.

“You were in
love.”

“Yes. We
were in love. Of course, I’d always loved him, but once I asked him when he’d
come to love me, and do you know what he said?”

“What?”

“He said he
hadn’t known that he did, until the day I ran, crying, into the stables.”

Bianca
stared at the fire. There was still the rest of the story to be told. She fixed
her eyes on the glowing ember buried deep in one of the logs, and took a deep
breath.

“The wedding
was set to be the summer I turned sixteen. At the time, three years seemed like
an eternity to wait, but Lady MacTíre insisted. And I suppose I was content
enough. What does a girl that young know of marriage, anyway? Thomas and I
spent our free hours together—playing, or gossiping about the villagers, or
quarreling—very much like we had before, only now we stole kisses when our
chaperones were out of sight.”

“It
sounds… pleasant.” Bianca looked up. Robin had a wistful look on his face.
She wondered if he knew it was there.

“It was.
But, after a time, it wasn’t enough. One night, when Thomas asked me to meet
him in the stables after the household was asleep, I agreed.”

The
wistfulness was gone, replaced by shock. “You what?”

“I snuck
from my bed in the middle of the night, and met my intended husband in the same
paddock where he first asked me to marry him.”

“Did you,
ah…” Robin seemed at a loss as to how to ask his question, so Bianca took
pity on him.

“No. We didn’t.
But we managed quite a bit more than just a few stolen kisses.”

“That hardly
sounds like you, Bianca.”

He was
teasing, but Bianca answered him seriously. “I used to care a great deal more
about making myself happy, no matter the consequences. And my poor, beautiful
Thomas paid for it.”

“What
happened?”

She sighed. “King
Lodney died. Brannon took the throne. And just days after his coronation he
arrived at the MacTíre’s. He said it was time for his “darling daughter to come
live in the palace.” He mentioned servants, and gowns, and jewels, and then, of
course, he spoke of all the political alliances I might bring him, through
marriage. Lady MacTíre objected, and reminded him that his father had already
agreed I should wed Thomas, and we were lawfully betrothed, but he laughed at
her. He told her that, trueborn or no, I was his only child, and I wouldn’t be
marrying some poor steward and spending my days counting chickens.”

“I went to
the stables that night. Thomas was waiting for me, with two horses saddled and
a pack full of food. He told me he wasn’t going to let my father force me into
marriage with some fat vassal, just for political gain. He said we’d leave,
leave our home, leave the kingdom if we had to. And I said yes. I kissed him,
as full of love as ever I’d been, and we rode out. All through that night, and
the next day, we rode. We were terrified, and exhilarated, and full of the
energy of youth. We finally stopped in an abandoned farmer’s cot, so sure that
we had made good our escape.”

Bianca
caught her breath. That night was the sweetest, and most bitter, memory of her
life. After they’d eaten she’d come to Thomas, hair unbound, and asked him if
he remembered the common law.

Which one?

The one
about marriage.

Of course.
You must share a meal, and exchange your vows, and then…

He’d been so
shocked, when he realized her intention.

Bianca, don’t
you want to wait for a magis—

Thomas. She’d
cut him off. I take you for my husband.

He’d gaped
at her, so she’d laid a soft kiss on his mouth.

Say it.
Another, deeper kiss. Say it. Another, full of all the longing in her heart.
Please, Thomas. Say it.

Bianca. I
take you for my wife.

Then there
had been no more words. They had tumbled together with sweet, eager
awkwardness, finding their way with love, and some laughter, and, in the end, a
great deal of passion. What she remembered best, though, was the moment before
they slept, in a tangled mass of limbs. When Thomas looked at her with eyes so
full of love, she knew they shared one heart, and one soul.

“Bianca?”

Tears were
rolling down her cheeks, but she didn’t wipe them away. “They found us, of
course. In the morning. They dragged Thomas from our marriage bed, and Brannon
forced him to kneel on the grass in front of the cottage. I was screaming,
screaming for them to stop, screaming that he was my husband, that I loved him,
that I would do anything, anything to save him. My father drew his sword, and
looked at me. Then he told me that the only way I could have saved Thomas would
have been to let him go. But I had been such a cow-eyed fool as to marry him,
so I must live with the consequences.

“And then he
struck his head off, right there on the grass.”

“Bianca…”
She could hear the horror in Robin’s whisper, but her mind felt numb. Her lips
kept shaping the words, finishing the story, telling all of it, as though Robin
were her confessor, and had to hear.

“I don’t
remember much of the trip to the castle. I was blinded by grief. Brannon would
visit with me in the evenings. I was kept in a guarded tent, and he would come
to spend an hour or so berating me. He would heap abuses on me, telling me I
was worthless, and a whore, just like my mother. Once I asked him why he didn’t
just kill me, as well. He told me there were other uses for a pretty young
girl, even if he couldn’t make a marriage for me. That some of the lords were
married to dried up old sticks, and would trade great favors to have a mistress
like me at their disposal. That night I cried so hard I was sick, and I had to
ride in a wagon the next day, I couldn’t even sit in my saddle.”

“When we
arrived in Inisle, I was given rooms, and maids, and dresses, and jewels, and I
was also given a daily appointment with the king. My punishment, for daring to
defy him. He spent the next year whipping me, waiting for it to heal, and then
whipping me again. The daily appointments were so that he could check my back,
and see if it was time to beat me again. I don’t know what he gained from it,
aside from satisfaction. Nothing he could do to me was worse than what he did
outside that farmer’s cottage.”