Terri Brisbin - The Dumont Bride

The lady made her way to the end of the parapet and placed herself in the force of the same wind that had buffeted him a few moments before. As he watched, she closed her eyes and turned her face into the strong breezes that passed over the crenellated wall. A quiver shot through him as he recognized the motion as the same one he made when the tension inside him grew too strong. He had taken several strides toward her before realizing his intent. Stopping before she saw him, he knew he did not wish to intrude on her private moment.

Studying her face as the moonlight illuminated it from above, Christian wondered over Eleanor’s refusal to explain the countess’s circumstances. Their private talk had been as frustrating as the one prior to the betrothal announcements—only cryptic comments and a growing feeling that he was entering a lion’s den. Trouble was, he did not know who was the lion…the Plantagenet prince or the woman he was to marry in the morning.

As if she had heard his thoughts, Emalie turned and looked at him. Their gazes met and he was once more assailed with the feeling that, in some way, they were kindred spirits. But alike in what way? Before he could look away, she dipped her head in a subtle salute, turned from him and walked back to the door that led to her hallway. Her maid stood in the doorway waiting for her and, without any delay, the women descended the stairs and disappeared from his view.

Christian faced the wind once more and tried to quiet the sense of fear within him. Once they were married and the queen left, he would discover Emalie’s secrets and carry out his duty to the king. Once he gave Richard the information he demanded, Christian would be safe and his honor, name and wealth would be restored permanently as promised. And once he was firmly back in control of his life and destiny, he would…

He shook his head in confusion. He had lived so many months just trying to survive each day that he had never thought about what would happen next. Without his father to guide him for the first time in his life, Christian was unsure of how to move on in this life he was gathering.

Turning out of the gusts, he walked to the doorway and entered the keep. Pushing his windblown hair from his face, he sought warmth in his chamber. He closed the door, tossed off his cloak and poured himself some wine from a waiting pitcher. Swallowing deeply, he felt exhaustion taking control of his body.

There were simply too many things to worry about, too many uncertainties to face in the coming days and months, and Christian did not have the physical strength to face them all with the confidence he needed. He decided then and there that gaining back his stamina was his first priority. Once he felt stronger, he could face these many challenges. Then he would face his duties to his king and his honor.

Collapsing on the bed, he could not even pull himself back up. Tomorrow would be another trying and long day and he needed to rest. Tomorrow, he would plan out the rest of his life. Tomorrow, he would be married.

Sleep overtook him and the room faded into darkness around him.

Although the long, soft strokes of the brush through her hair usually calmed her, this night Emalie believed that nothing would. Alyce had even taken to watering her wine since dinner so she would gain no relief there, either. Now her heart pounded in her chest and she startled at every noise in the corridor outside her mother’s chamber door.

No. Not her mother’s. Now this was her suite of rooms.

Emalie could have moved into these chambers after her mother’s death and surely after her father’s, but somehow it had not seemed the right thing to do. She’d remained in the rooms where she’d grown up, where she’d been a daughter. Now she was a wife and belonged next to her husband. Eleanor’s servants accomplished the move with the swiftness and thoroughness expected of them and she now sat awaiting her husband’s arrival.

Husband.

They were truly married now, although her memory carried only glimpses of the ceremony and the Mass that had followed. Because this was being done as expeditiously as possible, most of those who swore their fealty to her and now to her husband were not present. Only those knights and women of her household were witnesses and they were not many in number.

Alyce’s slow and steady movements continued, but the desired effect did not happen. Emalie tried to remember saying the words that bound her to Christian, but the day was a blur in her mind. The only clear remembrance she had was of counting the links on the golden chain her father had given her on the last anniversary of her birth as she watched the men who had sworn to protect her turn over their allegiance to her husband, now the Earl of Harbridge. It had been her mother’s favorite and she wore it today as she did every day—to remind her of her parents and her duties to the people of Greystone. Duties that included giving up her people and soon her own self into his control, and hopefully into his care.

Emalie shook herself free of her reverie and thought about the duty to come this night. He would take her and make her his wife in all ways. And he would know her truth. The room darkened and began to close in around her. Try as she might, she could not catch her breath.

Alyce must have sensed the change in her, for she stopped what she was doing and draped a warm shawl over Emalie’s shoulders.

“There now, milady. All will be well.” Alyce clucked as she wrapped the length of wool tighter around her.

Emalie dared not look at her maid for fear of crying. Tears had threatened all day but now, wracked with worried anticipation over her coming wedding night, her eyes burned. Any reply was lost when the expected knock came on her door, but it was at the doorway that joined her room to her husband’s and not at the hallway, which she had expected. Emalie stood and faced it.

Eleanor entered her room, followed by Eleanor’s priest and then him…Christian Dumont. Eleanor walked across the room and took Emalie’s hands in her own and, with a nod, dismissed Alyce from the chamber. A soft look entered the queen’s eyes as she examined Emalie from her head to her toes, which were visible below the thin gown she wore.

“We are almost done, Emalie,” Eleanor whispered in a voice so low that no one else could hear.

Emalie curtsied slightly to her in response and lowered her gaze, waiting.

“Christian, your mother would be proud of you this day even as yours would be, Emalie.” Eleanor took Christian’s hands and encircled them around Emalie’s. “I am pleased to see two families who have been so important to me finally joined together in wedlock.” Eleanor sounded very pleased with herself over these arrangements, almost as though she had planned them for years. “Father, will you give them your blessing now?”

Emalie caught Christian’s gaze as he looked up, both startled by Eleanor’s actions. There should be a bedding ceremony and then the blessing. There should be witnesses so that no doubts of the validity of the marriage could be raised. Eleanor just smiled at them both and nodded at her priest, who raised his hand and made the sign of the cross before them.

Emalie did not hear the words he prayed. She could hear nothing but the beating of her heart as the moment she dreaded approached even more quickly. Soon there was quiet in the room and Emalie realized that Eleanor had dismissed even the priest now. Unable to move, she stood with her hands still clasped in Christian’s. He seemed as baffled by these proceedings as she.

“I informed those attending your wedding celebration that I would stand as witness to the bedding.” Eleanor looked from one to the other and nodded. “Now that Father has issued his blessing on your marriage and wedding night, I will retire.”