Page 8 of One Knight
“There’s no priest here to be found,” Rolf said when he came to Henry in the stables, where he was checking on his destrier and the arrangements made by his squire.
“You did well, Diggory,” he said to the squire.
All he wanted to do after this day was remove his armor, but instead, he turned to Rolf.
“According to the servants, it’s a three-day ride to the nearest priory. There’s a friar there.”
That has to be where the Lady Elisande planned to take vows.
That wasn’t going to happen. No, she would be his wife, and the sooner, the better.
“You want us to ride there and bring him back?” Rolf asked.
Henry turned from his horse as Rolf’s words crystallized another realization within his mind. “A priory,” he repeated to himself. The lady’s plan was clear. “That’s where she sent the baron’s daughter. I would wager this land on it.”
Rolf looked curiously at him. “What do you want to do?”
“The lady and I are taking a journey, it seems. We leave at daybreak. Rolf, you stay with Sayer; you’re both in command here. Tell Roger and Geoffrey to make ready and choose three soldiers to accompany us, along with squires. Have them pack enough provisions for a week. We’re going to travel light and fast.”
“Yes, sir,” Rolf replied with a nod.
Henry strode out of the stables and crossed the courtyard to return to the manor house.
As he took the wooden stairs by twos, he wondered how the lady would react to his news. He was confident he was correct about what she’d done, but only her reaction would confirm it.
Out of respect, he knocked at the door this time. “Lady Elisande, it is Sir Henry.”
He heard a rustling within.
“Enter.”
His attention went to the bed, where she stood upon it, attempting, it seemed, to replace the hanging Rolf had torn down. Was she making ready their chamber? It wasn’t what he had expected.
“Can I help you, my lady?”
She was stretched as far as she could reach. “I have it … just … there.” She pushed onto her toes to secure it to the hook affixed to the wall—and missed.
Henry moved to catch her without thinking.She landed against the plate and chain mail covering his chest, arms, and shoulders.
“Oof. That is not soft.”
“Soft wouldn’t stop a sword or lance, my lady.”
“I suppose it is slightly better than stone.”
“Indeed.” She was a light burden in his arms. No doubt the plate of his armor weighed more. “Eager for your wedding night, my lady?”
She met his gaze as a blush stained her cheeks. She truly was a fresh-faced rose.
“Merely setting to rights what your man nearly tore to shreds.”
“You seem to have received a reprieve regardless.”
Her forehead lined as her brows knitted together. “How so?”
“You have no priest in residence, which you well know.”
“Brother Benedict visits often. I hadn’t thought of it, what with the invasion and all.”
