Elaine’s father had agreed with shocking alacrity. A baron sought the hand of his daughter, and moreover, one unconcerned with his inability to provide even a token dowry. He had agreed to every one of Bernarr’s suggestions, including a modest annual allowance to provide for the squire’s apartment in Rillanon. Bernarr was not being generous; he wished the man as far from them as possible. Had he agreed, Bernarr would have found him an apartment in Roldem or the one of the eastern kingdoms. The squire promised Bernarr that his daughter would be in the royal maze the next day at one, to receive Bernarr’s proposal. The old man had been positively beside himself with joy as Bernarr left the seedy inn where he had negotiated the hand of the woman he loved.
Bernarr found her on one of the benches at the centre of the maze, looking pale and as nervous as a startled fawn. Instantly he went down on one knee and took one of her hands in his. Today his fingers were clean and the slight tan of his skin made a pleasing contrast to the delicate white of hers. ‘I have spoken to your father and he has consented to our marriage,’ he said, his heart virtually leaping into his throat as he watched her reaction.
‘You do not know me,’ she said, her voice soft and breathless. ‘How could you possibly love me?’
With a smile he kissed her fingers. ‘To see you is to love you,’ he assured her. ‘I know you better than you think. But, you do not know me, which is my fault.’ Bernarr bowed his head over her hand and stroked her fingers with his thumb, lost for a moment in the wonder of her touch. Then he looked up at her. ‘I do love you, my lady. I promise to be a good and gentle husband to you. I beg you to make me the happiest man alive by honouring me with your hand. My love will awaken your heart and you will come to know what I do, that I could not love you so deeply, so passionately, without your loving me in equal measure. We will be happy, I promise you.’
She was staring at him as if in wonder, then she closed her eyes and caught her breath, catching her lower lip in her teeth. After a moment she let out her breath in a gasp and lowered her head. ‘Of course I will marry you, my lord. I could never refuse such an honour.’
He reached out and lifted her chin, waiting until her eyes met his. ‘You would marry me of your own free will?’ he asked. ‘Because you love me?’
A single tear traced a path down her pale cheek. ‘Of course I do,’ she said, her voice choked. ‘Of course.’ Then she leapt to her feet and said, ‘Forgive me, my lord, I am overwhelmed and must collect myself.’ So saying, she fled, leaving him puzzled by the behaviour of women, but thrilled and delighted, his blood dancing with joy.
She loved him!
The next time he saw her, Elaine insisted that the ceremony be held as quickly as possible. Her boldness had taken his breath away and sent his heart’s blood rushing. For a moment it was hard for him to think and this time he took her in his arms in wonder and delight. When he lifted her head and looked down into her lovely face he thought he would melt with the heat of his passion. He realized at that moment, she would give herself to him without hesitation. Pushing aside his passion, he whispered, ‘I would not so dishonour you.’ Elaine blinked, looking up at him in astonishment. ‘But we will be married as soon as it can be arranged.’
The wedding was an intimate affair in the chapel of Ruthia—the Goddess of Luck—at the palace, witnessed by more of Bernarr’s friends than Elaine’s.
‘It is nothing,’ she said, making light of it. ‘It’s the way of things here. I have moved on and so have they.’
He thought that she was hurt by their desertion for all she dismissed their peculiar absence so carelessly. He tried to make it up to her by being extra attentive through their small but elegant wedding feast. Later, when they were alone, he presented her with his personal wedding gift, a magnificent emerald necklace. ‘To match your eyes,’ he told her.
Elaine was enchanted and stared into the mirror for a full minute without saying a word. She touched each stone, then looked up, and into his eyes in the mirror. Her lips parted and she pulled at the bow that held her nightgown closed. With a shrug the fine gown dropped to her feet and she turned, smiling, and went to him, naked save for the emeralds.
That night, that passionate, wonderful night, had been the happiest of his life.
In his sleep, the tormented old man cried, tears emerging from closed eyelids. No! he shouted in his mind, knowing that he had once again visited and left behind the single most joyous night he had known, and knowing what pain and suffering was to come.
The trip home had been as comfortable as he could make it, but Elaine was not a good traveller. His relief as they came into the harbour of Land’s End was enormous, for he had begun to fear for her health. She had been sick at almost every stage of their journey and he was resolved that she should see a chirurgeon as soon as possible.
As he stood beside her at the ship’s rail, his arm curled protectively around her slender shoulders, Bernarr could sense the disappointment that her smile hid. For the first time in his life he saw Land’s End in comparison with Rillanon, Salador, and Krondor, and it did not compare well. It was a small, work-a-day place, shabby, plain and ordinary.
‘You will make it beautiful just by being here. My people will love you,’ he promised.