“I do not worry over anything here at Wellesbourne,” his voice was oddly hoarse. When he looked at her, Alixandrea swore she saw tears glistening in the blue depths. “But we must have a serious discussion.”
“About what?”
“I must say this so that we are clear on things,” he was trying to be firm with her without sounding grave. “If something should happen to me, you will.…”
She suddenly threw her hands over her ears and pulled away from him. “Nay,” she cried softly. “Do not say such things. I cannot hear it from your lips. Only by God’s grace do I stand here with even an ounce of courage at your departure. If you say things like that, I will surely crumble.”
He grasped her, more firmly so that she could not get away. His muscular arms went around her, holding her still and tight. Alixandrea clung to him.
“You must hear me, Alix,” he murmured. “If I fall in battle and I have not told you all that I must, I fear for your life and safety more than you can know. Please hear me out.”
She only nodded, but it was enough. He continued. “If I should not return, John has instructions to marry you immediately. This will keep you at Wellesbourne and ensure that your uncle does not gain control of you or my inheritance. It also ensures that you will be well treated and well cared for the rest of your life. John will make a fine husband. Those are my wishes, love, and I would ask that you abide by them.”
It was too much. Her resolve to remain courageous unraveled completely and she was a soft, warm, sobbing mess against him. Matthew rocked her gently, his face in the top of her head. He sighed heavily, wishing with all of his heart that he did not have to leave her. But time was short, and he had to say everything that was on his mind whether or not she wanted to hear it.
“I love you, Alixandrea Terrington St. Ave Wellesbourne,” he murmured, feeling his eyes sting with tears. “The man that existed before the day you walked into that tavern was dark, humorless and dull. You are the spark that gave him a meaningful existence and for that, he shall be eternally grateful. To have known a scant month with you has made his entire life worth living.”
His sweet words only made her weep harder. He put his hands on her face, lifting her tear-stained cheeks to his lips. He kissed her softly, gently, across the nose, forehead, cheeks, chin, and each eye. Her salty tears were delicious upon his lips.
“Alix,” he murmured. “Open your eyes and look at me, love.”
She obeyed, the great bronze eyes slowly opening. He wanted one last, strong, enduring look into her soul to sustain him.
“If I have any control over my own fate and any leverage with God, I swear to you that I will return,” he whispered. “But if it is decided that my time has come, know that I wait for you to join me on the other side. Look for me when you enter the great golden gates of Heaven, for surely, I will be standing there.”
Her weeping had faded, the pull of emotion now too strong for tears. She stared at him a long moment before speaking. “That gives me more comfort than perhaps anything you have said.”
“Good. I meant that it should.”
There was nothing left to say. Their final embrace was too strong, too powerful, too full of unspoken words. When Matthew finally let her go and moved to quit the keep, she ran after him and they embraced once more, heated kisses and murmurs of love between them. He forced himself to let her go and descended the steps into the ward below.
Alixandrea stood in the doorway, watching him mingle with Mark and Luke, eventually barking orders as the entire bailey began to move with fighting men preparing for battle. It broughther tremendous comfort to watch him in action, confident with his skills as a warrior and knowing that he would indeed do everything possible to return home to her whole.
She stood there as the army formed ranks and began to move out. Matthew occasionally turned and waved to her. Alixandrea had no idea how long she had been standing there before she realized someone was beside her.
John stood next to her, his blue eyes fixed on the departing troops. She put her hand in the crook of his elbow.
“I am glad you are staying here with me, John,” she said, meaning to be of comfort. “Perhaps we can even begin rehabilitating your mother’s garden while we wait for them to return.”
But he did not find much consolation in the statement. “Perhaps,” his gaze lingered on Matthew, just leaving the gate with the massive army behind him. “Did my brother tell you what he has asked of me?”
“He did.”
“If it comes to that, I just want you to know that I am sorry,” he said to be of comfort.
Alixandrea did not find any consolation whatsoever in his statement. When her husband disappeared through the gates, somewhere inside of her, it was as if a candle blew out. She felt dark, lonely, and anxious.
There was nothing left to do now but wait.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
August 21, 1485 A.D.
Nottingham Castle wasa massive place, more of a fortified city than a castle proper. It was normally full of people going about their daily business, but with the assembled armies of King Richard, the entire castle and surrounding berg was jammed with bodies. Norfolk and Surrey had joined the king’s forces, as well as a host of other lesser knights and houses. It was quite a conglomeration of forces and at council, most of the ranking nobles demanded to be heard. This could make the meetings long and loud.
Matthew had spent most of his time with the king during this time and one thing was becoming increasingly apparent; Richard did indeed plan to take command of his army and ride to battle with them. Matthew had no idea how this would complicate things or shift the focus of the battle and he fervently wished that Gaston would soon join them, as much for his counsel as for his sheer presence. But The Dark Knight was still noticeably absent, much to the displeasure of the king. Matthew had sent several riders to find him bearing messages and as yet, none had returned. He could only assume they had found Gaston and that the man was on his way.
They had received word the previous day that Henry Tudor’s enormous army was moving to Atherstone, having crossed the Welsh Marches without resistance. This had Richard’s entire army on the move to Leicester to intercept him. War was imminent and Matthew had been in battle mode since leavingWellesbourne ten days earlier. He ate little, slept even less, and focused only on the coming conflict. He could smell it in the air, especially on the evening of August twenty-first.
