Heart of a Knight by Barbara Samuel

Author:Barbara Samuel [Samuel, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, General
ISBN: 9780061085185
Google: 829fgTfzGcIC
Amazon: B00428LB1I
Publisher: Amazon.com
Published: 1997-06-14T16:00:00+00:00

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13

"Find me Alice Bryony at once," Lyssa said to a girl by the well as she strode through the gates. "Send her to me in my chamber."

The girl's eyes widened at the imperious tone, and she dipped quickly. "Aye," she said, and raced away.

Lyssa did not trust herself to do aught but move with brittle straightness directly to the quiet of her own chamber. If she eased that posture for even a moment, she feared unbearable emotions and knowledge would spill from her in an hysterical rush. As it was, she could barely walk with any dignity through the hall. Her gown was soiled and showed tears at the elbows where she'd fallen, her hair no doubt littered with leaves and grass and tangles.

Breathing hard, she made it to the curving stairs to her own chamber, and lifted her skirts to run the rest of the way, slamming the door behind her before letting the tears fall.

"Oh, I am a fool!" she cried out, and buried her face in her hands. It had been growing, in her most secret of hearts, that she would petition the king to wed Thomas of Roxburgh. The king was fond of her. He would wish to grant her what he could, and it might behoove him to combine such estates.

And today, in the forest, when Thomas had flung away his robes, and moved toward her with his magnificent form, with his huge gentle hands and his skillful lips, she had dared to believe he might truly love her, this magnificent creature, born of night and forest, who was as virile as Woden himself.

Bitterly, she wept. Inconsolably. For what could console her for the loss of that dream? That loss of Thomas, who had lied and lied and lied. She staggered to her bed, and there wept herself into sleep, where nothing had been ruined by that telling moment in the forest.

By dusk, Thomas had gathered his things and sent word to Alice they would depart at dawn—if indeed he lived so long.

When all was prepared, he stood by the wide embrasure that looked over the estate, over the neat green and yellow fields, divided by hedgerows trimmed each spring by village draw. Shadows crept from the forest, swallowing the village with its tumble of cottages and small church, and edged up the hill to the castle walls. Faintly came the sound of a girl singing some happy song as she worked.

His heart was a thick lump in his chest, a lump formed of regret and yearning and unfulfilled dreams. Here had he learned dignity, and some small mannerly ways, and how to hold up his head. Here had he learned the wisdom of listening, and the vagaries of chess, and a hundred small things he could not name in the moment, but had enriched him nonetheless.

But for all that he would miss the physical place of Woodell, he would grieve for the lady most of all. With her straight bearing and clear brow, she had shown him the shape of true nobility.

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