“My lady,” he knelt beside her. “What is the matter? Are you ill?”
Alixandrea had not heard him enter. Shocked by his sudden appearance, she sat up, her hands instinctively grabbing at him as if to convince herself that he was not a ghost.
“Mark,” she gasped. “You are alive.”
He nodded. “Indeed,” he replied, noting even in the darkness that she had a wild look about her. “What are you doing on the ground? You should be inside where it is safe and warm.”
He was trying to pick her up but it was like trying to hold on to sand; she kept slipping through his fingers.
“Where is Matthew?” she begged.
Mark stopped trying to stand her on her feet; he looked at her, wondering if she was strong enough to understand what he had to say. He’d ridden a very long way to tell her personally. He drew a deep breath, ignoring the cold night around them, praying she would comprehend his words and the seriousness of them.
“My lady, I must tell you something and I pray that you will listen and take heed,” he said. “For whatever I have thought ofyou in the past, for whatever I may have said in jealousy and anger, I would ask for your forgiveness now.”
She looked at him, not genuinely comprehending what he was saying. “What have you done?”
“It does not matter now. All that matters is that I was wrong. About everything. And I am very thankful that my brother has married you.”
“Mark, where is he?”
Mark took another deep breath. “In London.”
Her entire face went alight. “He is alive?”
“Indeed.”
“Then why did he not send word to me?” she suddenly cried. “He promised that he would.”
She wasn’t particularly hysterical, merely distraught. Mark looked her in the eye. “I need for you to be strong, my lady. What I am about to tell you will require strength of will and character. I do not doubt that you have either of these. Can you do this?”
Something told her that an ominous bit of news was coming. It was more in his manner than in his words. She nodded, slowly. “I can. What has happened to my husband that he would not send me word?”
Mark’s jaw flexed; she could see it, even in the darkness. “Lovell told you what happened at the battle, did he not?”
“How do you know about Lovell’s missive?”
“Johnny told me.”
“Lovell said that the Wellesbournes fought for Henry.”
“And he was correct,” Mark said. “The reasons for our shift in fealty do not matter. Suffice it to say that it was a matter of honor more than you can comprehend, and we all agreed. But to Matthew, it was far more. He fought like I have never seen him fight, my lady. It was as if Gabriel himself had come out of Heaven to vanquish Richard. Matthew was magnificent. You would have been proud.”
She could see Matthew’s performance through Mark’s eyes. A weak smile lit her face. “Iamproud,” she whispered. “Now you will tell me what has happened to him.”
She knows. Mark gazed back at her, wondering how he was going to tell her what he must. He felt so guilty for every hideous thought he’d ever had of her. The day she ran off from Rosehill, he should have gone after her. He could only thank God that Gaston had found her, righting his sin.
“One moment, he was fighting as if possessed,” Mark said, his voice quieting. “He dropped several powerful knights with hardly an effort. I know this because he was near me and we were watching out for one another as we normally do. And then… then de Russe’s charger went down and de Russe with it. Gaston was trapped beneath the wounded charger and vulnerable. Matthew saw the threat before I did.”
Her heart was thumping in her ears. “What threat?”
“La Londe heading for Gaston.”
Alixandrea’s eyes widened. “La Londe was at Bosworth?”
Mark nodded with bitter irony. “He was indeed. He was fighting for Henry amongst Richmond’s troops. But when Gaston fell, la Londe went after him. You are aware that there has been bad blood between them ever since Gaston emasculated him in the mêlée at Richard’s tournament. We could see him moving towards Gaston, but I could not get to him in time. But Matthew could; he was closer. Gaston was trying to get to his sword, hearing our shouts that la Londe was upon him. I swear to you, my lady, it happened in the blink of an eye. Before la Londe’s sword came down, Matthew threw his arm out to prevent la Londe’s strike from cutting off Gaston’s head. That gift of time gave Gaston a chance to reclaim his sword. Yet the damage had already been done. La Londe cut off Matt’s left hand before Gaston could raise his sword and cut off Dennis’ head.”
The story abruptly ended there. Alixandrea gazed at Mark, digesting his words, coming to realize that somewhere in the middle of it, Matthew had lost a hand. For some reason, it did not have nearly the impact that it should have, that it clearly had on Mark. Her gaze grew steady.
