He glanced at Madelyne. “I have not yet decided.”
Artemis raised a black eyebrow into a dark slash. “And you, Lady Madelyne? I should love to see you ride.”
“Nay. I do not ride, Lady Artemis, as you may have surmised.” Meeting the double-edged comment with acknowledgement of its slice was her only defense at this time.
“Lord Gavin is a fine rider,” Artemis added shrewdly. “He is known for his ease in the saddle.”
“Is that so?” Madelyne could not explain why the mere mention of the man should make her heart pick up speed. “Then I am sure he will be on the hunt.”
“I am sure he will… ” Artemis let her voice trail off as she looked pointedly across the room.
Madelyne followed her gaze and saw then the meaning of her words. Gavin sat, tête-à-tête , with the woman named Lady Therese: heads together, and bodies close enough that their shoulders brushed. As she watched, he tilted his head at something she said and gave as much of a smile—and a bark of laughter—as Madelyne had ever witnessed on his stoic face.
Strangely bereft, she turned back to her companions and smiled, determined to make light of it. “Mayhap he will have better luck in the wood on the morrow.” Then, suddenly exhausted, she placed her hands on the table. “I am tired and will retire to my chambers now.”
Reginald rose immediately and assisted her to her feet. “Lady Artemis, please excuse us. I will escort Lady Madelyne to her chambers.”
“Nay, my lord, that will not be necessary,” Madelyne protested, feeling the heavy weight of Artemis’s stare now upon her.
“But of course. You cannot traverse this court without escort, and as your customary guard dog is otherwise occupied, the pleasure shall fall to me.”
Madelyne acquiesced, only because she was too weary to argue, and walking alone through the dark warren of halls did not appeal to her.
Reginald offered her his arm, and she took it, wrapping her hand around his elbow as she had done with Gavin the night earlier. Reginald’s shoulder rose a bit higher than Gavin’s had, and his forearm was less bulky and warm, Madelyne noticed as they made their way down the halls. She took care that their bodies did not touch as they walked, and noticed that his stride stayed in check so that she nearly matched his steps.
When they reached her chamber door, she was surprised to find Jube still in attendance. “Good evening, Jube,” she said with a nod. “I bethought to see Rohan here by now.”
Jube bowed from his immensely tall height and responded, “He should arrive anon.” His attention flickered to Reginald. “Where is Lord Gavin?”
“He remains in the hall,” replied Madelyne lightly. “Lord Reginald kindly offered to see me here in his stead.”
She began to open the door, but Reginald gently stopped her. With a glance at Jube, he said quietly, “My lady, ’tis unseemly that I should enter your chamber alone with you…but ’tis near impossible to have a private conversation with this giant hovering nearby.”
Startled, Madelyne glanced at Jube and saw that he was sidling toward them. Looking back at Reginald, she saw the earnestness on his face, but also determination in his eyes. “Mm…Jube? Would you please step down the hall a trice? I should appreciate a bit of privacy for a moment.”
He glowered in surprise, but complied, stepping away just far enough that he was out of earshot—she thought—but close enough that it could barely be considered private.
“Yes, my lord? What is it you wished to say to me?”
Reginald stepped closer to her, standing so that his back blocked Jube’s view of Madelyne. She felt enclosed by him, with the wall behind and Reginald between her and Gavin’s man. “I have heard that the king wishes you to wed,” he told her. Taking her hands, he raised them, looking down seriously at her. She felt neither threatened nor apprehensive…just curious and more than a bit shy as he continued, “I have decided that I will place my suit for you to the king. If I am granted thus, we will wed.” He pressed his lips, soft and gentle, onto the back of her hand.
Madelyne’s heart thumped harder. “I was to be a nun,” she told him. “But I was brought here to the king for another purpose.”
“You will make a fine wife,” he replied, in an echo of the same words Gavin had used the night before. “I wished only to tell you that I hope you will be mine.”
Frustration rose within her. Was this how it was to be outside of the abbey? All of her life’s decisions made without regard for her feelings and desires? Lord Reginald was a comely, gentle, kind man…but he did not seem to hear what she said.
Did any man ever hear what a woman said?
“It appears I have no choice in the matter,” she told him, reminding herself of that as she spoke. “I can do only what the king requires of me, and all I can wish for is a husband who will have a care for me.”
Reginald stepped closer, brushing a hand over her cheek. “I vow, if the king shall approve my suit, I will have a care for you, Madelyne. And I will court you and woo you so that you won’t regret that you didn’t take your vows.”
She nodded. “Aye, Lord Reginald. I thank you for your kind words.” Pulling away, she turned to grasp the handle of her door, noticing that Jube had somehow inched his way close enough to hear their words. She wondered how much he’d heard, and then realized it didn’t matter.
“Good night, my lady,” said Reginald as she opened the door.
“Good evening, my lord. Good evening, Jube,” she added.
Madelyne pushed into the chamber, closing the door behind her, and turned to see Tricky pacing the floor, muttering in agitation.
When her friend saw that Madelyne had entered, she froze and crossed her arms emphatically over her chest. “Good evening, my lady.”
“What is it that ails you, Tricky? Where is Peg?”
“Peg is supping with Lady Judith’s maid Onda. I returned to the chambers to await your return, and to have a word with Clem—only to find that he has cried off and asked Lord Mal Verne to relieve him of the duty of guarding you.” Her full lips firmed into a tight line.
Madelyne looked at her in surprise. “But ’tis Jube for whom you have a care, and who has taken Clem’s position. Does that not please you?”
Tricky snorted and moved to stoke the fire. Even in the summer, the castle chambers were damp and cold at night. “Of course. I do not miss the grumblings of that malcontent Clem when I step out of the room. But I had aught I wished to speak with him on, and now he is gone.”
“Certainly you can send for him if your need is that great,” Madelyne replied, shaking her head. “Tricky, I do not understand why you are so overset.”
The plump maid collapsed on a stool. “I meant to talk with Clem upon my return, but he wasn’t here.” She stood just as abruptly as she’d sat. “I’m sorry, my lady, for burdening you with my silly complaints when you are waiting for my assistance!”
She began to help Madelyne disrobe, chattering all the while. “’Tis said that you are to be wed anon,” she said. “All of the court speaks of the shy woman from the abbey who will have a husband chosen for her.”
Madelyne felt the coldness settle over her again, and sat slowly on the stool recently vacated by Tricky. “Aye, my friend. It appears to be so. The king will not allow me to return to the abbey, and he has decreed that I must wed. I have prayed long and hard over it—you know that, Tricky. Yet, there appears to be no way other than to abide by the king’s wishes.” She felt the weight on her head lessen as her maid pulled the pins from the coils of hair and they opened, falling straight.
“My lady…you have agonized long over what you cannot control. You must embrace your new life with a bold face and courage.”
“You have the right of it…and deep in my heart I’ve come to believe that is what God expects of me.”
“Aye, the matter has been taken from your hands by the king—the highest power on this earth other than the pope. You are right to believe it is God himself who pushes you in that direction. You are not meant to devote your life to Him. I know now that I am not meant to either.” Her last words were softer, but firm. “I will not return to the abbey, Madelyne. Indeed, I should wish to remain with you for as long as you desire—in whatever capacity you wish.”