Page 3 of Christmas Secrets

“I’m not.”

“Aren’t you? This has affected you so much that you are starting to resent my good fortune, and even turned down the opportunity to be knighted. For the life of me, I cannot figure out why you are acting this way.”

“It doesn’t matter. Nothing does. And my memories of the past cannot be erased by kissing wenches or getting soused.”

“Nay. I don’t suppose they can.” Bedivere put a gentle hand on Percival’s shoulder.

“How do you deal with your bad memories of the past?” asked Percival, not knowing how his brother could even sleep nights after having murdered nearly a dozen men.

“I make new memories to replace them,” explained Bedivere. “That is, good Christmas memories to bring light to replace those dark times. Morag taught me how. That is what I do. I tell you, it really works.” Bedivere looked over at Morag and the baby and flashed a quick smile when their eyes interlocked.

Percival groaned. “Mayhap I’ll take you up on that idea of getting drunk after all.” He snatched a bottle of wine from the tray of a passing server. “I’ll stop in the kitchen and take some food along, too. I’m taking enough provisions to last me a week in case the hunt is not successful.”

“Stop it,” growled Bedivere, shaking his head. “Your home is here at the castle now. This is where you belong. Not living like a hermit in a cave somewhere.”

“Don’t you mean, your home?” Percival asked him.

“Rothbury Castle is home to my entire family now. All of us,” he told him.

“Mayhap you’re right. I need to create new memories like you’ve suggested. Goodbye, Brother.” He headed for the kitchen.

“It’s snowing out there. And the hunt is never successful this time of year and you know it.” Bedivere hurried after him, talking as they walked. “You can’t really mean to camp in the wilderness. You’ll freeze to death.”

“Well, at least it’ll cool my heated temper as you suggested. Don’t come looking for me, because I don’t want to be found.”

“At least take shelter somewhere.”

Percival stopped in his tracks and looked back at his brother. “Shelter? Do you mean because we’re so close to the Scottish border?”

“Well, it’s not safe to be alone out in the woods and you know it. You’re a target for any Scot wandering over the border looking for trouble.”

“Don’t worry about me. I know how to fight.” He tapped the hilt of his sword at his side and started for the kitchen once again.

“Mother won’t be happy when I tell her you won’t be here with the rest of the family for Christmas. She’ll also want me to go out and fetch you and bring you back home. And you know that is not what I want to be doing at Christmastime.”

Percival stopped again, knowing this was true. And being the second eldest son, it was his responsibility as well to look after their mother and younger siblings. God’s eyes, he didn’t need this guilt laid on him right now. But he also couldn’t stomach the idea that he might make his mother cry after all the hardships she’d been through.

“I don’t want Mother to worry about me. Tell her I’ll be staying in the cottage for a while and will be safe. I’ll return soon.” He spoke to Bedivere without turning to look at him.

“Cottage?” Bedivere stopped at his side. “Are you talking about that run-down little hovel in the woods where Morag and the girls used to go to see that old woman?”

“Yes,” answered Percival. “It is where they met with the old woman, Imanie. In that secret garden.”

“Ah, you know about that then.” Bedivere crossed his arms over his chest.

“Of course I do. Everyone does. They were members of a secret group of strong women started by the Queen, and even had little brooches they wore that looked like hearts. They were Followers of the Lonely Heart before they all married.”

“Secret Heart,” said Bedivere, cocking a half-smile. “But while you’re there, you can start a new secret group called the Followers of Lonely Hearts since loneliness seems to be your problem lately.” He chuckled at his jest.

“Not funny,” said Percival, leaving his brother and heading off to the kitchen, feeling an emptiness in his heart that he couldn’t explain. It was as if something was wrong and he didn’t know how to fix it. Something was definitely missing in his life, but he wasn’t sure what. But, hell, if Bedivere was right, saying Percival was lonely. He didn’t know what he was talking about. Whatever it was making Percival feel so empty this time of year, it certainly had nothing at all to do with a lonely heart!