Read Online Unending Love by Kathryn Le Veque - Free Book Online

she didn’t know he had.  Her [J8]   heart ached for him more than she could bear.
    Consequently, she woke up exhausted and grumpy. 
Her sister tried to talk to her, as did her mother and grandmother, Emilie, but
she didn’t want to speak of such things.  She didn’t want to speak of Eynsford,
or Maddoc, or anything else. She simply wanted to be left alone, which is what
she told her mother and sister in a fit of angry tears, so they left her alone
for the most part. They understood Adalind was dealing with a great many things
and it was necessary to be patient with her.  If, and when, she needed an ear
to listen, they would be there for her.
    After the nooning meal, the hall in the keep was
silent for the most part as the occupants of the castle went about their
business. The main level of the keep housed the hall, her grandmother and
grandfather’s private chamber, along with a small receiving room for her
grandmother and a solar for her grandfather.  As far as keeps went, it was a
very large one, and it was a fairly simple thing to gain some privacy.
    Adalind sat in her grandmother’s receiving room
working on an embroidery loom. She had started the piece yesterday, sketching
out a scene of hummingbird and flowers with charcoal on the fine piece of
linen.  She was quite an accomplished artist, drawing and painting beautifully,
and she was also very accomplished in her sewing. Her years of fostering had
seen to that and, fortunately, she had a talent for it.  It was an escape as
well as a hobby, and she had been quietly doing her work since the early
morning hours.  Everyone had stayed clear of her as if she carried the plague.
    David wasn’t unaware of the situation with his
granddaughter.  He had seen what had happened yesterday when she had exploded
at du Lesseps, but he had wisely stayed away as her mother and sister and
grandmother attempted to comfort her, only to be pushed away.  Du Bois was the
only one who seemed to be able to communicate with her and, not surprisingly,
ease her, which was causing David to closely watch the interaction between the
two. Adalind was fragile and he didn’t want Maddoc’s well-meaning attempts to
give the girl false hope.
    David had been in his solar since early morning
as well, having received word from his brother, the powerful Earl of Hereford
and Worcester, that one of their allies along the Welsh Marches was being
harried by a Welsh prince who was gaining some momentum.  Christopher de Lohr
had stopped short of asking his brother for immediate assistance, but he had
put him on notice.  Canterbury carried almost a thousand men and David was sure
his brother would request three-quarters of that number. 
    He was therefore studying a map of the area in
question, a beautiful piece of cartography etched upon an enormous piece of
yellowed vellum.  He had the entire country on various pieces of vellum in his solar,
for he and his brother had done their fair share of troop movement and maps of
this sort were necessary. The maps were old and well-used, pieces of art as
much as they were maps.  This particular map had been passed down from David’s
father, Myles. But as time went by and thoughts of Adalind caused him to lose
his concentration, he set aside his quill and casually wandered over to his
wife’s receiving room.
    Sunlight was streaming in through the big arched
window on the north side of the room. Dressed in a soft yellow surcoat and
looking radiant and lovely, Adalind sat before her loom, patiently piercing the
material as she wove her tapestry.  When she caught movement out of the corner
of her eye, she glanced up without lifting her head to see her grandfather
standing in the doorway.  She smiled faintly.
    “Greetings, Papa,” she said softly. “I thought
you were busy with the fate of England today.”
    He smiled weakly as he entered the room. “I
was,” he said. “But I thought I would come and visit you for a few moments.
I’ve not seen you