Aristide by Barbara Devlin

Author:Barbara Devlin
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Medieval
Published: 2016-12-27T06:00:00+00:00

ARISTIDE

CHAPTER SIX

A fortnight later, on the toll road to Rochester, as the sun sank on the horizon, depriving the caravan of a bit of warmth against the winter chill and new fallen snow, Aristide shifted in the saddle and drew his cloak about Dion, as she slept in his lap. In much the same way as Arucard cradled Isolde, Aristide guarded his bride during the arduous journey to their new home, ever conscious of the dread that pervaded her waking hours as they neared their destination and the reason for her concern. Without thought, he tightened his hold.

“It is good to be married, is it not?” To the right, Arucard grinned.

“May I impart a revelation without risk of ridicule?” Wherefore did Aristide even bother posing the query? “Mayhap you might extend sympathy.”

“Not a chance.” Arucard snickered. “As a healthy dose of humility never hurt a husband, and you should accustom yourself to it.”

“All right.” Aristide scanned the vicinity and remained on watch for the slightest hint of trouble, since they entered his lands. “From the moment the King commanded you to wed, I knew the same requirement would be demanded of me, and I welcomed it.”

“Ah, that is wherefore you did not protest when I apprised you of your impending nuptials.” Arucard cast a knowing smile. “Before we departed the Continent, I always wondered if you would remain a knight in our former order, because you seemed quite interested in the fair sex, although you never acted on it, to my knowledge, as has Morgan, much to my displeasure.”

“You knew?” That shocked Aristide, because he thought he hid his regard, but Arucard nodded an affirmative. “What gave me away?”

“That useless, lovesick puppy face you boasted, whenever a lady visited Vauclair.” Of course, Arucard noticed everything. “And thither is naught wrong in looking, brother. Still, as the years passed, you always struck me as the family sort, first, and the warrior, second, but that is not to diminish your prowess with a sword.”

“You are correct in your estimation, because since I was a boy, I envisioned myself as a patriarch, seated at the head of a table of a large collective of children.” And now he imagined Dionysia at the opposite end of the gathering. “I wanted to form something to persist after I am gone from this world, to leave a legacy for future generations to carry on the de Laurentiis name. Thither is a long list of great soldiers whose heritage died with them, and I would not suffer the same fate.”

“Now you need not worry on that account.” Arucard glanced at Dionysia, still dozing peacefully in Aristide’s embrace. “How is she?”

That was a loaded question filled with meaning beyond the superficial, given Aristide had apprised Arucard of the circumstances surrounding the scar on Dion’s cheek, because enemies waited in Rochester. After that momentous discussion in their chamber at Westminster Palace, she had said naught about the situation, but he spied the sadness in her blue eyes and surmised, without doubt, the cause of her melancholy state.

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