A Knight in Central Park(88)
“Before you decide such an important matter, I have a question for the monastic maiden.” Sir Richard gestured toward Alexandra. “If I am not mistaken, she is my wife’s own sister.”
“Well, by all means let us find out,” the king said.
Sir Richard did not at all resemble the man Joe had envisioned these past few weeks. Standing at an unlofty height of about five foot eight inches, a few inches shorter than the king, he looked downright harmless. His long reddish-blonde hair touched at the metal plates covering his shoulders, and he wore a fascinating breastplate attached with straps and buckles to a lower plate. A gold cross hung about his neck and clanked against metal when he moved.
Mary came forth before Sir Richard could continue, Garrett close behind. “Alexandra,” she said, “Garrett tells me you are here to rescue me. Whatever for?”
Alexandra’s eyes narrowed. “Because you were taken by this wicked man,” she said, jabbing a finger toward Sir Richard, “and we are here to save you from a life of turmoil.”
Mary’s face paled. “Did you not receive my message?”
“Nay,” Alexandra said, a murderous look in her eyes. “What foolishness do you speak of, and be quick to answer, for your obvious happiness upsets me to no end.”
“As you well know,” Mary began nervously, “Sir Richard and I had met on more than one occasion prior to his men coming to take me away.”
Alexandra tapped her foot impatiently to the floor. “And I sent him away.”
Mary chewed on her lip. “On this particular occasion, you were not about. What I failed to tell you previously,” Mary went on, her face pinched, “and had every intention of doing so, was that I had fallen in love with him.”
Alexandra gawked in disbelief. “How could you fall in love with a man who watches idly by as hard times befall those around you?”
“He knew not of the people’s strife. ’Twas Harig’s doing when Sir Richard left to do the king’s bidding. I do not know when I fell in love with Sir Richard exactly,” Mary squeaked, wringing her hands as she spoke. “Love is not an emotion you can turn on and off at will. ’Tis just there like the air we breathe.” She gazed lovingly into Richard’s eyes. “There is naught that can cure the heart of its grasp once love has taken hold.”
Alexandra rolled her eyes. “How could you love a man who snatches you unaware, leaving your house a fire. Grandfather could have been killed.”
Mary looked devastated by the news.
Richard frowned. “Harig was not ordered to stay behind and destroy your property. Message of the mayhem and destruction he caused came to me only days ago. Harig will be well punished for his deeds.”
Sir Richard turned pleading eyes to Alexandra. “Mary confessed her love for me months ago, and yet she refused to come with me because of you. I felt I had no choice but to take her by force. But I swear before the king himself that I never intended for any harm to come to you or your family.”
“So, this is my fault?” Alexandra said through gritted teeth. “This man,” she said to her sister, jabbing Joe in the arm, “risked his life to save Grandfather and me from the fire. If it were not for him who knows what Harig would have done to our brother. I shudder to think of it.”
“I did not know,” Mary said, reaching out a hand to her, “I swear.”
“’Tis my fault,” Sir Richard declared boldly, “and I shall send a dozen of my men to Brookshire to rebuild. Tell me what I can do to make this up to you?”
Alexandra crossed her arms. “You can begin by putting a stop to the overtaxing of our people. They work their fingers to the bone, and for what? They can hardly keep their children fed or clothed. What of that?”
Once again Sir Richard appeared genuinely appalled. “I had no idea. Clearly I need to visit my holdings more often. The matter will be remedied, I assure you.”
Alexandra’s features softened as she placed her arms about her sister, whose tears were streaming freely now.
“I should have told you of my feelings months ago,” Mary told her, “but you were always so busy. ’Twas never the right time.”
Alexandra shook her head. “I never gave you the chance, so obsessed was I with the crops and whether or not the wheat would provide us enough money to send you off to London to be well schooled.”
“I failed to realize your intentions,” Mary said.