“Oh, my lady!” Mary cried as she entered the room. She rushed to the window and closed the shutters. “You’ll catch your death!”
“Did you see the snow?”
“How could I miss it? Luckily all your guests have arrived. There is a big celebration in the Great Hall. Why aren’t you there?”
Eve sighed. There was nothing to celebrate. Even the Yuletide no longer held appeal for her. The Yule log would be burned that night and the longest night would go on for the rest of her life when she married Michael.
“It’s Solstice Night,” Mary said softly. “Tonight is Christ’s Mass. Tomorrow you are to be married! Go and enjoy the evening.”
Eve inhaled a deep, steadying breath.
“They are waiting for you, m’lady.”
Eve felt the crushing weight of misery and responsibility. She looked down at her hands, at her deformed hand hidden beneath her blue velvet sleeve. She would be forever unwhole, deformed, a monster. She could never please Michael. She nodded. “I’ll be down in a moment.”
Mary nodded, curtsied and left the room.
Eve opened the shutters again and looked out beyond the castle at the forest. Her angel would never appear to her and her teary eyes blurred the landscape of white snow.
Gabe stared down at the tapestry Eve had given him. His thumb stroked the angel softly.
“You are mad!” Henry proclaimed, entering the stables. He shook the snow from his large shoulders. “We will not get two villages from here before we freeze to death! And that is if we can tell where the road is!” He dropped the bags at Gabriel’s feet. “I have to disagree with you this time, my friend. We should stay.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or don’t want to?” Gabe shook his head and Henry continued, “It’s not like you to run from a fight. What are you afraid of?”
“He’s my brother. And as much as I hate him, he is all I have.”
“Is he? There’s a girl in there whose heart you have broken.”
Gabe looked at him, shocked.
“I know. I have eyes. She is as miserable as you.”
Gabe shook his head. “What have I to offer her?”
“You think you have anything less to offer her than Michael has?”
Gabriel scowled, staring at the angel in his hands.
Henry took a deep breath and held up his hands. “Far be it from me to argue with you. But if I had a brother who made me half as miserable as Michael makes you, I would have knocked him on his arse long ago.” Henry headed for the stable door. “If you want to leave, go. But I’m going nowhere in this storm.”
Gabriel watched his friend leave the stables, a gust of wind churning into the stables as he opened the door. Speckles of sparkling snowflakes entered until the door was slammed shut. He looked down at the tapestry again. She had done what others said she couldn’t do. Rode the horse, embroidered the tapestry. An angel. His angel.
Henry was right. He never turned his back on a fight. Never. Not at inns, not at tournament. Every worthwhile prize was worth fighting for, whether it was his pride, his friends or coin. And now, with the most important prize ready to be claimed by another how could he turn his back and walk away? How could he not fight? He tucked the tapestry into his jupon and straightened his shoulders.
He was in for the hardest fight of his life.
Her father roared with laughter. Duke Clarendon, an elderly man with white hair and kind eyes, sat beside him at the head table, smiling at the fable he had just told.
Eve didn’t even grin. She stared down at her untouched trencher. Around her the sounds of celebration echoed through the Great Hall. Singing, laughter, loud conversation. Her father sat on one side of her and Michael the other. She felt trapped. Like the caged bear in the center of the room that Michael had insisted on for entertainment. Poor animal. She lifted her gaze to the small cage in the middle of the aisle in time to see his trainer poke it with a stick. It howled a deep a roar. Poor miserable beast. No one was poking her, and she knew how it felt.
Her father and Michael spoke over her head, as if she weren’t there. She wished she wasn’t. She dropped her gaze to her lap and the blue velvet sleeve covering her hand. She couldn’t stop thinking of Gabe. Of the gentle way he touched her hand. Of the way he smiled. Of the way he kissed her. With each thought came a tidal wave of anguish, each larger than the other. She was drowning. She could barely breathe. She had been so sure it was him; so sure he was as happy with her as he made her feel. How could she have been so wrong?
It was a heartbeat longer when she realized her father was clenching his fists on the table top. And Michael had risen to his feet. She lifted her head.
At first, she thought she was dreaming. Gabriel was moving up the center aisle with purpose. In his wake, silence stretched. He walked by the caged bear. Even the animal was silent.
