no longer a desirable-'
Madelyne cut off the veiled insult. 'Say what you wish to say and be gone then.'
'I am Lady Eleanor.' Madelyne couldn't hide her surprise. 'Then you've heard of me? Perchance Baron Wexton has spoken of-'
'I have heard of you,' Madelyne whispered. Her voice shook. She couldn't help but feel a bit inferior standing next to the woman. Lady Eleanor was dressed splendidly, while Madelyne wore a simple traveling gown of faded blue.
Duncan 's intended appeared to be everything Madelyne believed she wasn't. She was so composed, so dignified. Madelyne doubted the woman had ever been clumsy, even when she was a little girl.
'My father has still to come to formal agreement with Baron Wexton regarding our wedding date. I just wanted to tell you that you have my compassion, poor child. I don't place any blame on my future husband though. He was merely retaliating in kind. But I did wonder if Baron Wexton mistreated you.'
Madelyne heard the worry in Lady Eleanor's voice and was furious. 'If you must ask me that question, then you don't know Baron Wexton well at all.'
She turned her back on the woman and mounted the horse one of the soldiers had led over to her. When she was settled, she looked down at Lady Eleanor and said, 'He did not mistreat me. Now you have your question answered and it is my turn to ask you something.'
Lady Eleanor agreed with a curt nod.
'Do you love Baron Wexton?'
It became obvious after a long silent moment that Lady Eleanor wasn't going to answer Madelyne. She did raise an eyebrow, and the look of disdain on her face told she had little liking for the question.
'I am not a poor child, Lady Eleanor,' Madelyne announced, letting her anger sound in her voice. ' Duncan won't marry you. He won't sign the contracts. He'd have to give up his greatest treasure in order to marry you.'
'And what be that treasure?' Lady Eleanor inquired, her voice mild.
'Why, I'm Duncan 's greatest treasure. He'd be a fool to give me up,' she added. 'And even you must know that Duncan is anything but a fool.'
Madelyne then goaded her mount forward. Lady Eleanor had to jump out of the way, else be pounded into the ground. Dust flew up in the silly woman's face.
She didn't look so superior now. Aye, Lady Eleanor was clearly furious. Her anger pleased Madelyne considerably. She felt as though she'd just won an important battle. It was victory to Madelyne's way of thinking, childish, born of rudeness, true, but a victory all the same.
Chapter Twenty-Two
'We walk by faith, not by sight.'
She told him everything.
The retelling of all that had happened to Madelyne took almost two full days. The dear priest demanded to hear every word, every feeling, every outcome.
Father Berton had wept tears of joy when Madelyne walked into his tiny cottage. He admitted he'd missed her terribly and couldn't seem to gain control of his emotions for most of that first day. Madelyne, of course, did a fair amount of weeping too. Her uncle declared that it was fine enough to be so undisciplined because they were all alone, after all, and no one could witness their emotional display. Father's companions were off to visit another old friend who'd suddenly taken ill.
It wasn't until she'd prepared their supper and they were seated side by side in their favorite chairs that Madelyne was finally able to begin her recitation. While the priest ate his dinner, Madelyne told her story. She thought only to give her uncle Berton a brief summary, but he wouldn't allow a skimpy accounting.
The priest seemed to savor every detail. He wouldn't let Madelyne continue until he'd memorized each word. His training as both a translator and a guardian of the old stories was the reason Madelyne gave for this familiar peculiarity.
When Madelyne first greeted her uncle, she began to worry about his health. He seemed to be failing. Aye, she thought his shoulders slumped a little more now. His back appeared to be a bit more bent, too, and he didn't seem to move about the cottage as quickly. Yet his gaze was just as direct, his comments just as sharp. Father Berton's mind was as keen as ever. When he confessed that his companions wouldn't be returning to live out their last years with him, Madelyne surmised it was loneliness and not his advanced years of fifty summers that accounted for the changes she'd noted.
Madelyne was confident Duncan would come for her. Yet when three full days had passed, and still not a sign of Duncan, her confidence began to evaporate.
Madelyne admitted her fears to her uncle. 'Perhaps, once he was again acquainted with Lady Eleanor, he changed his mind.'
''Tis foolish talk you're giving me,' Father Berton announced. 'I've as much faith as you, child, that Baron Wexton didn't know Laurance wasn't a priest. He thought he'd married you, and for a man to take such a step, there'd be a true commitment in his heart. You've told me his declaration of love. Have you no faith in his word then?'
'Oh, of course I do,' Madelyne returned. 'He does love me, Father. I know he does, inside my heart, yet a part of my mind does try to make me worry. I awakened during the night and my first thought was a frightening one. I asked myself what I would do if he doesn't come for me. What if he did change his mind?'
'Then he be a fool,' Father Berton answered. A sparkle appeared in the priest's eyes. 'Now tell this old man again, child, what were your very words to Lady Eleanor with the pretty red hair and the regal bearing?'
Madelyne smiled over the way he teased her with her own description of Lady Eleanor. 'I told her I was Duncan 's greatest treasure. It wasn't a very humble remark, was it?'
'You spoke the truth, Madelyne. Your heart knows it well enough, but I'm agreeing there's a wee portion of your mind that needs some convincing.'
' Duncan isn't a fool,' Madelyne said then. Her voice was firm with conviction. 'He won't forget me.' She closed her eyes and rested her head against the cushion on the back of the chair. So much had happened to her in such a short time. Now, as she sat beside her uncle, it seemed as though nothing had really changed at all.
The old fears were trying to get the better of her. She'd soon be weeping and feeling pity for herself if she didn't guard against it. Madelyne decided she needed rest. Aye, it was only because she was so exhausted that she tended to worry now. 'I do have value,' she blurted out. 'Why has it taken me so long to know it?'
'It doesn't matter how long it took,' her uncle said. 'What's important is that you've finally realized it.'
The rumble of thunder drew her uncle's attention. 'Sounds as though we'll be having a good rain in a few minutes,' he remarked as he stood and started for the window.
'Thunder's close enough to pull the roof apart,' Madelyne remarked, her voice a sleepy whisper.
Father Berton was about to agree with his niece's comment when he reached the window and looked outside. The sight he beheld so startled him, he had to brace his hands against the window's ledge, else lose his balance and surely collapse to his knees.
The thunder was silent now. But Father could see the lightning. It wasn't in the sky though. Nay, it was on the ground… for as far as his eyes could see.
The sun forced the pretense, deflecting the shards of silver bolts as they bounced from chest plate to chest plate.
A legion it be, united behind one warrior, all armored, all quiet, all waiting.
Father squinted against the magnificent sight. He nodded once to the soldier's leader and then turned to walk back to his chair.
