The Knight and the Dove by Lori Wick

This particular time, however, he did so out of fear.”
    “Were you very bad?” Stephen found himself captivated.
    “I was,” Megan admitted. “I bribed his young vassal into letting me dress in his clothing during a tournament. I found myself on the jousting field. I was quite nearly killed by a runaway horse.” Megan glanced at her companion then and wanted to laugh at his look of horror.
    “It’s quite true.”
    “You say your father beat you?”
    Megan nodded. “I couldn’t sit down for several days.”
    “What would possess you to do such a thing?” Stephen was still trying to take it in.
    “The usual,” Megan said softly. “I was trying to gain my mother’s attention.”
    Neither one felt like talking as they passed through the castle gates. Stephen was still amazed at this new insight, and Megan was completely wrapped up with dread over having to face Bracken at the tables that night.

Eleven
    T HE EVENING MEAL WAS NOT AS BAD as Megan had anticipated. Brice and Bracken were very quiet, but Stephen was charming, and Megan, feeling as if someone had rescued her, allowed herself to be coaxed into talking.
    “So you lived most of your years at the abbey?” he wanted to know.
    “Yes. In truth, the abbey feels more like home than Stone Lake.”
    “What did you do all day?” This came from Aunt Louisa.
    “Well,” Megan admitted, “when I first arrived I spent all my time running away or planning to run away, but as I began to grow more settled, I was given responsibilities.”
    “Doing what?” Stephen asked.
    “The abbey is run very much like a keep,” Megan explained, “only the nuns give everything away. The abbey has a creamery and small byre. The nuns weave, sew, bake, and cook, but nearly all goods are given to charity. I am proficient in all of these things because I worked right along with them. Then when I turned 15 I was allowed to go into the village several times a week to teach some of the children.”
    “Your father approved of this?” Bracken, who couldn’t help himself, wondered aloud. The abbey did not alarm him but time alone in the village was another matter. Thinking he may have angered her, Bracken held his breath as Megan turned, but for once she was not offended by his line of questioning.
    “My father had very definite ideas about my upbringing. He believed I would be a more compassionate mistress to my servants if I spent time in the village. I was never in any danger, you understand.Most of the townspeople knew of my parentage. Since it was common knowledge, they never believed we were trying to deceive them, and in truth, after just a short time, it was not something many even thought of.”
    Bracken couldn’t imagine allowing his own daughter to work in the village, but without asking he somehow knew that Vincent’s ideas stemmed from his reaction to his wife’s personality. Megan was stern with the servants at Hawkings Crest, but she was never cruel. Bracken now saw that Megan was the woman she was because she had been separated from her mother’s influence. From what little he’d seen and heard, it would at least appear so.
    Had they been alone, Bracken might have questioned Megan further. But now was not the time, and he was left to ruminate on what she had said.
    Megan was also left with a certain amount of speculation after Bracken made no comment to her story. Through the evening she pondered whether he agreed with her father or thought him a fool.

     
    Two afternoons later Megan was feeling suffocated again. She knew better than to leave on her own, but she could not find Louisa or Bracken. The day had started well, and she did not want to do anything to spoil it, but she had to get out. A basket on her arm, she gained the courtyard and with relief spotted Arik.
    “Arik,” Megan spoke when she stood before him, having lost all fear of his size and stony face. “Bracken bids me to tell someone when I leave the castle walls.” She paused and stared at