Velvet Touch. Catherine Archer

      Fellis stood looking at him for a long moment. Peace of heart was a concept she readily understood. It was the one thing that she hoped for in the future her mother had chosen for her. She nodded slowly. “I will hear you.”

      He smiled at her then, and her heart thrummed in her chest. Dear heaven, but he was handsome. The spring sun glinted in his hair, bringing out the fiery highlights and making her fingers ache to touch it. She tightened her grip on the book of prayers she was holding as if that could stop her from thinking such sinful things.

      It did not.

      He moved closer to her, indicating that she was to retake her seat on the bench.

      When she did, Stephen settled himself beside her.

      Fellis could not keep herself from noticing how very hard the muscles in his thighs appeared as he stretched out his long legs in dark hose. The sleeve of his green tunic was so near that it almost touched her own sleeve. When she allowed herself a fleeting glance upward she became certain that the shoulders of his white pourpoint bore no extra padding, for the throat that rose from the open neck was strong and tanned.

      She was grateful for her heavy veil and wimple, for surely it helped hide the color that had risen up to heat her face and neck.

      “Lady Fellis,” he began, “I am afraid I made a most unconsidered comment this morn.”

      She looked down at his strong hands, which seemed to be gripping his knees. Fellis would have believed this indicated discomfiture, if the notion was not so far removed from her ideas of who and what this man was. There was no way this worldly and powerful knight could feel anxious at saying anything to her. He lived and socialized with the most powerful and sophisticated people in the land—the very king himself.

      ’Twas her own agitation that made her see such in him.

      But Sir Stephen continued to speak, and what he said made all else fly from her thoughts.

      “I must tell you,” he said, “that I had no knowledge of your infirmity when I spoke. I meant then, and do now, that you are most agreeable to look upon and Wynn would be a fool to reject you. In spite of what I have learned of your physical condition since then, I cannot credit that any man, including the Welshman, would have the stupidity to repudiate you. The truth, sweet damsel, is that you are lovely beyond what my simple tongue has words to describe.”

      Fellis found her eyes caught and held by his dark ones as the words sank into her soul. The way he was watching her, his expression revealing the depth of his sincerity, left her with little doubt that Stephen Clayburn believed what he was telling her. Going over in her mind the words he had spoken, Fellis could see she might have misunderstood them. She was simply so accustomed to people’s pitying reactions to her that she had placed the wrong connotation on what had been said.

      She found herself unable to turn away from that searing intensity. His eyes were so green and deep and, for some reason she could not fathom, made her think again of her special place in the forest, the place she had resolved time and time again never to return to.

      There she felt so different, freer than at any time in her life, but with it also came yearnings she had no right to feel. Mayhap that could explain why Stephen Clayburn called up those images in her mind. For he too made her feel things she had no right to.

      Her heart was beating so loudly that she was sure he could hear it, and still she could not look away.

      But a bird chirped nearby and Fellis came to herself with a jolt. With a hot flush she looked down at her hands, which were clasped around her book. They were white knuckled with the intensity of her grip.

      Whatever had she been thinking to stare at him so? He was here to complete a task, and surely he would do what he must to see that carried through.

      Not that Fellis doubted the truth of his not knowing about her clubfoot. That much seemed reasonable. But the rest, especially the part about her being lovely beyond words. That was too much to believe. She was more than relatively certain that Stephen Clayburn was no stranger to beautiful women and knew how to use his considerable charm to best effect.

      She was disturbed to find her own voice sounding decidedly breathless as she answered him. “Please, sir, there is no need to go on so. I accept your apology and your word that you meant no offense.”

      Feeling that the meeting was now concluded, Fellis rose.

      But Stephen reached out to detain her, putting his hand on her sleeve. To her utter confusion, Fellis felt a tingle of awareness even through the heavy wool of her long sleeve. So surprised was she that she nearly gasped aloud as she jerked away from him, her gaze again going to his.

      To her further amazement the knight seemed to be battling some emotion himself, for his eyes were troubled as he met hers.

      But he appeared to recover quickly or perhaps she had been wrong in her first impression, for when he spoke, it was without any hint of emotion. “Lady Fellis, I need speak with you a moment more if you will allow.”

      She looked away, feeling awkward and wondering what more there could be. “If you will.”

      “Please sit.” He indicated the place she had just vacated. “I would discuss the matter of your proposed marriage to Wynn ap Dafydd.”

      Unaccountably, Fellis felt a wave of disappointment, then told herself she was nothing more than a perfect fool. What had she thought he might wish to discuss with her? Such a man would not put himself forward for the likes of her without reason. Disappointment made her sigh as she answered, “So be it.”

      But she sat as far from him as the narrow bench would allow, her hands clasped primly around the book in her lap.

      “You must see,” he began without preamble, “that what the king has proposed wouldst be best for all, your family, your enemy the Welsh, and mayhap for yourself.”

      “For me?” She looked to him in surprise. “Tell me then, Sir Knight, how I would benefit from this match with a man I have never so much as set eyes upon?”

      He took a long time in answering and, when he did, his tone was deliberately frank. “Lady Fellis, I know of Lady Mary’s plans for your future. It has been made quite clear to me that taking holy orders was not of your choosing, but hers.” His expression took on a reasoning cast. “This is your opportunity to do otherwise. To have a husband and family of your own. Can you tell me that you have not even thought of the possibilities?”

      She remained mute, wondering how he had read her secret desires so easily.

      He continued, “You know, of course, that the union must be of your will, my lady. The church does not sanction the forcing of any bnde. I know not what the king would say of your refusal, but that would be your father’s concern, not yours. I only hope that you will make the right decision based on the responsibility of your position and the good you can do by it.”

      She looked back at him, her smooth brow creasing as she understood the importance of her part in this for the first time. “I had not thought.”

      “Tell me then,” he said, “if you truly feel you are called to become a nun, and I will not continue this effort.”

      She could feel him willing her to look at him and could not prevent herself from doing so. No one had ever asked her before what she desired for herself and Fellis found that her dreams were so long buried that the words to tell of them were hard come by. Finally she shook her head, whispering, “Nay, ’tis not so set in my heart. But,” she said, and was gladdened to hear the rising strength in her tone, “’Tis not such a bad life that I dread it. To serve the Lord is a right and noble decision.”

      “I cannot argue that,” he replied softly. “But there are various ways to serve the Lord. And, you, by agreeing to marry the Welshman could help to bring peace for many folk who have lived in strife.”

      What answer could she give to this? He was right in that the Lord could be served in many ways. But was this way the right one for her?