Medieval Master Swordsmen(373)

"Perhaps."

Garren studied her in the bright of the day; she was dressed in pale yellow brocade, quite becoming with her coloring. He'd spent a sleepless night, tossing and turning with thoughts of her on his mind; the sapling of confusion had grown into a yearling of stunning strength, with branches that reached into his mind to cause mass disorientation. But he had fought the branches, the tree itself, and in the morning had awoken with the resolve to distance himself from her as much as possible. No more sneaking into her chamber, no more private conversations. He had to draw the line if there was to be any hope of him keeping his mission in focus.

It had been easy to reason so with distance between them. But gazing at her, he knew that line would be extremely difficult to draw. He was attracted to her, more than any woman he had ever met. Knowing she was to be his wife, and he would be entitled to all of the husbandly pleasures thereof, was enough to seriously disturb him. A woman like this could make him forget everything he had ever worked for and he was coming to comprehend something he'd never understood his entire life; why men over the centuries had died for the affection of a beautiful woman. Suddenly, it was blatantly obvious.

He knew he had to get away from her before he forgot everything he had resolved himself to over the past several hours.

"If you will excuse me, I will not burden you ladies any longer with my presence,” he said. “Good day to you."

He walked away from them, almost too quickly, but Derica's voice stopped him.

"Sir Garren?"

He paused, turned, and would have had to have been a blind man not to see the expression on her face. She looked as if someone had just stolen her best friend.

"My lady?"

"Have... have a pleasant day as well."

"Thank you."

It was harder than he could have imagined to turn and continue walking. But he had to. In fact, he had to do more.





CHAPTER FOUR



"Have I ever asked this of you before, my lord?"

"You have not."

"Then I would hope you would take me seriously when I ask that you reconsider assigning me to this task."

"Of course I take you seriously, Garren. But you have only been at Framlingham one day. How do you know this mission is impossible?"

"You must trust me when I tell you that it is. I know my limitations and I am telling you that I believe this mission will fall into serious jeopardy."

"So you have told me repeatedly. But what you have failed to tell me is why."

Garren sat in William Marshal's solar, gazing at the old man with the yellowed eyes, wondering how he was going to explain this to him. Months in the making and he was running from his assignment like a coward. He'd never run from anything in his life.

Outside, the night was becoming early morning. He'd ridden for hours to get from Framlingham to Chepstow and he was exhausted. But he'd never felt so strongly about anything in his life, so much so that he was willing to yank William Marshal from bed and beg him to reconsider the task at hand.

"Suffice it to say that, for various reasons, it is not something I can do," he muttered. "There are too many factors...."

"Rubbish," the Marshal snapped softly. "Tell me the truth. What has you spooked like a skittish mare?"

Garren looked at him, wondering if he should tell him the truth, but knowing in the same breath that he would sound like a complete idiot. Still, the Marshal deserved to know. Garren was the best agent he had and had served flawlessly up until this point. He knew he could confide in William but was reluctant to do so. With the truth came admission.

"Send someone to infiltrate the servants," he said. "I need support on this task. I fear that my attention may not always be where it should and I need assistance that I can depend on should I be indisposed."

William studied him a moment, a wise man with many years of living and loving behind him. He suspected he knew what the problem was. "Is it your bride?"

"Aye."

"You have expressed reservation about this betrothal from the beginning. What is it that still disturbs you?"

Garren took a deep breath, staring into the fire, trying to think of the right words. They came to him in pieces. "I am not sure. There's something about her...."

"Is she unpleasant?"

"Nay."

"Fat? Lazy?"

"Nay."

"Then what?"

Garren was hesitant. "From the onset, I feared the woman would be a distraction,” he said quietly. “I have never been comfortable with women, you know that, and I saw the entire marriage element as unnecessary to this mission. I could have infiltrated the House of de Rosa another way, for instance, as a bachelor knight searching for a house to pledge my fealty."