Читать книгу Velvet Touch - Catherine Archer - Страница 11

Over the course, of the next days, Fellis tried hard not to think too much on Stephen Clayburn and why he was there.

But ’twas nigh impossible.

Even Grandmother seemed to have nothing else to talk about.

This was evidenced by the fact that she had returned to the subject of the knight even now as Fellis helped her to eat her midday meal of bread softened in broth.

Her blue eyes studied her granddaughter over the bowl Fellis held in her hands. “You should not be here, child, but taking your meal in the hall with the others. I’m sure Sir Stephen would be glad of your company I do not believe either of your parents have put forth much effort to make him feel welcome here. And you need not avoid him simply because they do. The notion of your getting married is not without merit. Why must you dismiss the idea out of hand? As you have dismissed Sir Stephen simply because he carried the news.”

Fellis tried not to show how even the mere mention of his name made her heart flutter. She bent her attention to the broth, telling herself that it was not Stephen’s presence that so disturbed her, but his errand. No matter what Grandmother said, she could hardly think of the knight without thinking of the marriage.

Being no closer to deciding what she might do about going forward with the negotiations for the wedding, Fellis wished to avoid him, if for that reason alone. What should be done was still unclear to her.

Realizing she was taking too long to form a reply, she answered her grandmother carefully. “What would you have me do, Grandmother? I am at odds. You know that I only follow my parents’ wishes. I have been taught to accept the prospect of one future and know not how to even contemplate another.”

The older woman gave her a shrewd glance. “You follow your mother’s wishes, you mean.” She shook her head as Fellis opened her mouth to reply. “Nay, do not defend her. We both know that she has decided you will be the one to cleanse her guilt from her. She feels that it is her own fault that you were born with a twisted ankle, that I know. And I do have compassion for her. That is what has kept me silent all these years as I watched her groom you for a life of her choosing, not yours. But the time has come to speak out. There is no reason for guilt. You are a beautiful girl, kind of heart, intelligent and gentle of spirit. God has given you many gifts to make up for the one small fault. It is time your parents and you see that. Here Fellis is your opportunity to have a life of your own. Mayhap you should take it. In truth I would not have picked the Welshman for you. They have plagued us too long. But you might at least meet him and take his measure.”

Fellis could only stare as she realized that her grandmother was echoing some of the very things Sir Stephen had said to her. Something else Fellis realized she must consider was the possibility that the feuding might actually end if a marriage took place.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the elderly woman. “Now go.” Her grandmother waved a frail, blue-veined hand. “I am much improved and can feed myself. You have hardly left my side since I was moved to your chamber. I am of a mind to have a bit of peace from all this fussing.” The last was said with a teasing smile and Fellis knew the older lady was only jesting.

But she could see the concern for her on her grandmother’s countenance and knew she had indeed been overzealous in her care. She also knew part of her preoccupation with the older woman’s comforts had been caused by an unconscious desire to avoid the handsome knight from King Edward’s court.

“Go now,” the older woman said. “Before the meal grows cold.”

Fellis stood. “I will leave you alone for a time. But you are to send for me, have you any need.”

“I will do so.” Myrian nodded her wimple-covered head.

With that, Fellis went to the door, though she knew as she did so that she would not be going to the hall. She had no desire to find herself in Sir Stephen Clayburn’s company. As of yet she had not been able to control her reactions to him and had no wish to see the knight until she felt able to do just that. Though at the back of her mind she wondered if that day might ever come.

Trying to relegate Stephen and all things connected with him to the back of her mind, Fellis went down the stairs and out a small side door of the keep. Making her way to the storage shed at the side wall, she took a rough-woven bag from a hook on the wall, filled it with several shriveled apples from a barrel and headed for the stable. Although she could not ride, Fellis did enjoy petting and spoiling the horses with a little treat.

Since Stephen Clayburn’s arrival she had forgone the pleasure for fear of meeting him. His stallion was stabled with her father’s horses.

Certain now that he would be at his meal, Fellis felt relatively safe in doing as she would.

The stable was a long, low building with several stalls on each side of a center aisle. The inside was dimly lit and smelled of fresh hay and horses. She made her way to the first stall without hesitation, calling softly to its occupant. The gray stallion came to the sound of her voice eagerly, nostrils open as he sniffed for the apple she held out toward him.

After a moment Fellis went on down the row of stalls. She offered a soft word, a treat and a caress to each of the equines in turn as she came to them.

It was as she came to the last enclosure in the first row that she realized she was not alone. For inside the door was none other than Stephen Clayburn. He was standing beside his chestnut stallion. He had obviously been grooming the animal, for he held a stiff-bristled brush in his hand.

The knight had removed his tunic and wore only an opennecked white shirt over his dark hose. Her gaze moved over the thickly muscled arms exposed by the rolled-up sleeves of the shirt, then fixed on the deeply bronzed patch of smooth chest. She wondered if that skin would still hold the warmth of the sun that had kissed it with its heat.

Fellis flushed, realizing her thoughts had gone too far. She stammered, “I…pardon me, sir, I had no wish to disturb you. I did not know of your presence.” She made to back away.

He halted her with a raised hand, seeming to cover the distance to the short doorway in an instant. “Nay, lady, do not leave. You are not disturbing me.”

“Nonetheless…” she began. Heaven help her, she seemed to lose all thought of propriety in his proximity.

He made a soft noise of irritation as he reached for her arm. “Please, I have said you have not disturbed me. Do you mean to run every time we chance to meet?” As if realizing he was still holding on to her arm, Stephen released her slowly with a self-deprecating laugh. “I fear I am most unpopular of late. No one at Malvern seems to have the slightest interest in even passing the time of day with me.” He pointed to his own wide chest, then to his horse. “Hence I am spending my time in the company of the only being in this keep who seems to hold me in high esteem.”

Her eyes again fixed on that smooth flesh and she barely heard the last of what he said. Fellis felt her body flush with a surprising warmth that seemed to spread from her chest outward, and found herself unable to look away from the rapid beat of his pulse there.

“Am I so very disagreeable that none of you can even speak with me?” His troubled gaze beckoned hers.

As her eyes dropped, she blushed a deeper crimson.

Why did he affect her so even now?

She tried to force her mind to focus on what he had said. It was not fair of her family to ostracize him so. Stephen could not help that he had come bearing unwelcome news. He was only acting out of his own duty to the king.