But thoughts of Kirk St. Héver faded as she focused on Maximus, who was smiling at her as he approached with a short, thin man in heavy, woolen robes. The priest took them both back behind the screen and, with Maximus’ generous payment of five gold crowns, performed a marriage mass, the end of which saw Lady Courtly Love de Lara become Lady Courtly de Lara de Shera.
It all seemed so surreal and dream-like as Maximus put the beautiful, golden ring on her finger, the big stone glistening in the weak light. Once the mass was complete and the marriage recorded in the big book that the priests kept of births, marriages, and deaths, Maximus took his new wife out of the church and headed back to the livery to collect his horse. And with that, a whirlwind courtship had finally become a marriage. It was done.
But there were no thoughts of consequences or angry fathers after that. There was only joy. As they crossed the busy road towards the livery, Maximus held Courtly’s hand tightly, so tightly, in fact, that he was cutting off her circulation. By the time they reached the stable, she was forced to extract her hand from his grasp. When he looked at her, questioningly, she grinned and held up her hand.
“I was losing feeling in it because you were holding on so tightly,” she said, showing him the red-marked fingers. “What are you afraid of? That I’m going to run away?”
He grinned. “Nay,” he said. “I apologize, love. I did not realize I was trying to crush your hand.”
Courtly laughed, watching as Maximus sent a stable boy on the run for his horse. When the boy fled, she spoke.
“You did not,” she said. “In fact, I welcome the way you hold me. It tells me that you will never let me go away again, no matter what.”
Maximus turned to her, pulling her into his arms and gazing down into her sweet face. “I will always be with you,” he said softly. “Just as you shall always be with me, until the end of time. We are forever joined, you and I. Not even your father can separate us.”
Courtly relished the feel of his arms around her, the power and majesty that was Maximus de Shera. “I consider myself the most fortunate woman on the face of the earth,” she cooed. “Iwas a fool to run from you, Max. I hope you understand that my motives were true.”
He nodded, bending over to kiss her on the nose although he wanted to do much more than that. She was his wife now and with her warm, soft body pressed against him, the arousal was instant. Everything about her was consuming him already.
“I know,” he whispered. “I told you on the road outside of Begbroke that I was going to tell you just what I thought of your running off, but now I find that it is wholly inconsequential. There were a great many things I was going to tell you after I spanked you soundly for such a thing, but I have you back now and nothing else seems to matter.”
Courtly bit her lip to keep from grinning. “Not even spanking me?”
“Not even that.”
“Are you prone to spanking women, then?”
“Do you intend to test me and find out?”
She broke down into giggles, hugging the man tightly with her head against his broad chest. Maximus held her snuggly, savoring the moment as he had never savored anything so sweet in his entire life. He was very correct. Now that he had her back, things like spanking and fear and even Kellen de Lara had little meaning. As long as he had Courtly, he could move mountains.
The stable boy brought the distinctive black and white charger around and Maximus lifted his wife to the saddle before swinging on behind her. Paying the boy a few pences, he spurred his horse out onto the busy avenue.
The morning was late and the time was bearing down on noon as Maximus directed his horse towards The One-Eyed Raven. As they took a side street and ended up on a wider avenue, they came face to face with the burned-down hostel that had brought them together. There were scavengers pickingthrough the ruins and Courtly seemed very interested in the activity as they rode by. Maximus sensed her concerned focus.
“Do you want to see if any of your possessions are left?” he asked her. “I can stop and we can go through the ruins. Mayhap something is still there.”
Courtly shook her head, although there was longing in her expression. “Nay,” she said. “If there was anything left, I am sure it is gone by now. I am sure the vultures have been going through everything since the embers were cool enough to touch.”
Maximus wasn’t hard-pressed to agree with her so he continued on, noting that she remained focused on the hostel until they had passed well out of range and she was forced to turn around.
“You said it best,” she sighed, watching the city around them as it passed by. “Although I should not be thankful for a fire such as that, I am grateful that it brought us together. Every time I see a fire I shall think of you.”
He snorted. “It will remind you of how scorching and consuming I am.”
She laughed, snuggling against him as they rode along. “You are indeed scorching and consuming,” she said, turning to grin up at him. But her grin soon faded. “Please tell me what will happen now. Where will we go from here?”
He didn’t even want to think about the separation that was coming but he had little choice. Moreover, he had to tell her what was to come. A gloved hand came up, touching her head tenderly.
“Now that I have you, I do not want to leave you,” he said softly. “That does not please me, not in the least.”
Courtly cocked her head curiously. “Leave me?” she repeated. “Where are you going?”
He sighed heavily, thinking on the events to come. He was quite certain she knew nothing about de Montfort other thanthe cursory information she had heard because of her father, and she more than likely was still under the impression that de Montfort and his barons, including de Lara, were in Oxford for a great gathering. She would have no way of knowing that those plans had changed. There had never been the opportunity to tell her.
“Yesterday, after we left you and St. Héver outside of Begbroke, I went on to The Buck and Bounty to wait for you while my brothers returned to Oxford,” he began softly. “Even now, my brothers are preparing our men to move to London. We have been ordered to be there by next week. Since I will go to London purely on business, and I do not want you there in the midst of many different and opposing houses, you will be returning to Isenhall Castle with Jeniver. It will be safer for you there.”
Courtly was extremely disappointed to hear what the immediate future would entail, but she didn’t argue or cry about it. She wasn’t the type. She simply accepted it, stoically. There wasn’t much else she could do.
