Breath of Heaven (15 page)

Still, he said it over and over again. “I am sorry.” Until all he could say was her name. Then the world spun around him and the stars came, dazzling, into his mind and he shut his eyes in release. But through it all, he could still see the betrayal on her face.

S
he was weak and she hated herself because of it. Why else would she cover her face and turn away from her husband when all he’d done was save her and thus save Aubregate? While she lay on her side with her legs tucked up close to her, Llyr howled and scratched at the door. She felt Rhys move from the mattress where he had collapsed when he was finished. She heard the heavy sigh he let out as he stood and moved about the room. She could do nothing to stop Llyr’s howling, just as she’d been able to do nothing to stop what had just happened. It was her duty as a wife to submit to her husband.

“Eliane,” he said. “Look at me.”

Submit to you, husband
…She recalled the words of the wedding vows she’d spoken, and she opened her eyes. His gaze was upon her, his eyes fathomless black pits in his haggard and weary face. Did he feel the pain of her father’s passing also?

He is gone
…

Rhys grasped her shoulders and pulled her up to sit. She was grateful to see he was covered once more, but only from the waist down. She did not think she could stand to look upon him otherwise. The pain between her legs was still fresh, and inside she felt raw. Was this what submission meant? To accept her husband’s possession, even though there was pain? What about
before, when he’d kissed her and held her and touched her? There was no pain then, only a longing for something she could not explain. Was this all there was to being married? Was this what her father mourned all those years after her mother was gone? Her name was the last that he spoke. He died with it upon his lips, as if he saw her.

“Drink this.” Rhys handed her a goblet half-filled with wine. She obeyed, drinking it all down when he placed an encouraging finger beneath the cup to hold it up. When she finished, he took it from her. As he moved away to replace the cup on the table, Eliane saw the blood of her lost virginity splattered upon the sheet. She once more closed her eyes. She felt her robe come over her shoulders and then Rhys gently guided her arms within and pulled her hair from beneath it. How could he be gentle with her now, when before there had been nothing but pain? Yet he’d seemed to enjoy the mating. The sounds he made bespoke great pleasure. Was it thus for men? Was that why they sought the act so desperately? Was that why women were encouraged to submit to their husbands?

“I would speak with you if only yon dog would stop howling.” He looked over his shoulder. “And if we did not have visitors bearing down upon us.”

As if Llyr heard Rhys’s request, he stopped howling and they both turned their eyes upon the door. There was the sound of growling, and then Llyr yelped. Eliane stared at the door, unable to move.

Someone pounded on the door. “Open in the name of the king!” The pounding continued.

“Vannoy.” Rhys spat out the word and picked up his sword.

It had been years since Eliane had heard Renauld’s voice, but Rhys seemed certain. He turned grim eyes upon her before he turned to the door. The pounding increased. Renauld had to be putting his shoulder to the door. The portal seemed to bow inward with each heavy thump. There were more shouts and Madwyn’s could be heard among them.

“Rhys.”

He turned and looked at her, his eyes betraying no emotion. She did not know him well enough to guess what he was feeling.

“I will not shame you…husband.”

Something flashed in the dark depths of his eyes, and a smile flitted across his features before he turned once more to the chain. He removed it and then moved back to the bed. He sat down before her on the edge of the mattress with the sword in his hand and the blood clearly visible on the sheet beside him. She took shelter behind him, exceedingly grateful for his presence. If not for him and her father’s forethought, her situation would be dire. This was what she had always dreaded, but never had she imagined having the stalwart presence of a husband such as Rhys de Remy protecting her. Renauld would have to look over or through him to see her.

The door gave way and slammed against the table behind it. It seemed as if the entire population of the keep stood in her doorway, with Renauld Vannoy foremost in the room. Llyr bounded through and jumped upon the bed, taking up a position at the foot of it.

Renauld’s hawkish eyes took in everything. The disarray of the sheets and her hair, Rhys sitting casually upon the bed, with his chest bare to the world, as if he’d
just risen from a lengthy night of lust. Eliane tightened the belt on her robe and placed a hand on Rhys’s shoulder to steady herself. She felt the warmth of his skin and the tension of his muscle beneath. He was ready to strike if need be. The thought gave her comfort.

“It appears that you have rushed your vows.” Renauld swaggered into the room, his eyes roaming about as if taking inventory of her belongings. Her skin crawled at the thought of him in her room, in the keep, with her father’s body not yet cold and still lying below. She did not realize that she had tightened her hand upon Rhys’s shoulder until she saw the skin beneath her fingers turn white. She relaxed her hand.

Rhys’s eyes followed Renauld as he stalked about and finally came to a stop before them. Behind him, in the doorway, she saw Peter, Mathias, William, Han, and Madwyn. She was sure there were more in the hall beyond. Were there servants and townsfolk lined up on the staircase, waiting to parade past and see for themselves that she was now wedded and bedded? Surely Renauld had to know that the deed was done and could not be undone in the eyes of the Church or the state.
Can it?

He saw. His eyes lit upon the blood, which was glaringly obvious against the white of the sheet. Rhys even pointed her sword tip toward the mattress in case anyone missed it. He did it casually, as if he were doing nothing more than playing with a toy. A very deadly toy.

“The banns called for the ceremony to be tomorrow. I am certain the king will wonder why there was a need for such haste when he has just now called Eliane to court to be his ward.”

“It was her father’s dying wish to see her properly wed,” Rhys said.

“Edward is dead?” Peter asked. Dear, sweet Peter. His face seemed stricken while Renauld did nothing to suppress the satisfied look on his countenance.

“He is,” Han said evenly. “As I tried to tell you when yon fool pounded down the doors to the keep.” His contempt for Renauld was obvious even though his words were as calm and stoic as ever. It was miraculous that he had not slain Renauld before their long-standing enemy set foot within the keep. Han was wise enough to know that it would do more harm than good to slay the man when he was on the king’s business.

Peter bowed low in the direction of the bed. “I am so sorry, Lord de Remy. Lady de Remy. Your father was a great man and will always have a place in my heart.”

“Thank you, Peter,” Eliane said. She moved a bit from behind Rhys so Peter could see her face and the genuine gratitude she felt at his kind words. She saw Renauld’s eyes upon her and felt Rhys stiffen beneath her hand. The look on Renauld’s face was one of amazement, as if he’d never seen her before. She turned her head away from his stare and wondered at it. She knew her ears were well hidden beneath her hair.

Llyr’s growl rumbled and the dog rose to stand awkwardly on the bed. She steadied him with a down motion of her hand. Llyr kept his eyes upon her, waiting for any sign to attack. He sensed the tension in the room as clearly as everyone else present. The air about them fairly crackled and popped like a fire.

Had she changed that much in the years since Renauld had last seen her? She’d been nothing more than a child at the time, but her hair was much the same hue and her frame already taller and leaner than most. She cast a quick glance in his direction and saw he looked much the same, except now he carried a man’s weight instead of a boy’s. She still could not stand the sight of him, and the memory of what he had done to that puppy still sickened her as it did Han. She could tell by the look on his face that he wanted to throw their uninvited guest from the nearest tower.

Rhys stood, her sword held lightly in his hand as Renauld continued to stare. “Have you business with
my wife
?” He twisted the blade in his hand casually. “If so, then you may speak to her
through
me.”

“Tell your
wife
that the king has bade me return both of you into his care as soon as possible,” Renauld spat out. “He gave Salisbury the same task. Since her father is dead, we need only wait to put him in the ground to be on our way.” He turned on his heel and left.

Elaine could not believe the cruelty of his words. Tears came once more. Surely the king was not so cruel as to demand her presence so soon after her father’s death.

“Vannoy!”

Renauld stopped at Rhys’s shout. He had no choice since his way was barred by those who stood at the door. He turned and stood with his hand placed upon his hip, close to the hilt of his sword.

“
You
will show Lord Edward the respect due him,” Rhys said. “
We
will observe the proper time for mourning and then
my wife and I
will journey to present
ourselves to the king. You may return to him with the knowledge that you have delivered his message, and give him my wife’s gratitude for his concern. As we are now in a state of mourning and there is scant place for your comfort, we will not be offended if you return to your own lands until you see fit to deliver
my
message to the king.”

Eliane watched Han’s eyes flicker in acknowledgment of the words Rhys left unspoken. Renauld would be delivered to the borders of Chasmore at once. Either upright on his horse or stuffed in a sack and dragged behind. Either way, it would be done.

“Leave us for a moment,” Rhys commanded those watching as Renauld stormed off, quickly followed by Han. Madwyn stood in the door for a moment, her eyes questioning.

Eliane had no answers for her. Too much had happened in too short a time. She could not think. She merely nodded in what she hoped was a reassuring way.

“I will be waiting to attend you,” Madwyn said as she shut the door. Llyr whined and came to her, his nose bumping her arm. He placed his head in her lap and settled with a huff of air.

Rhys stood before the fireplace, his hand on the mantel and his head bent as if he studied the embers. The fire was dying. It needed to be stoked. He rolled his shoulders, and the muscles rippled beneath his smooth skin. She watched in fascination as they moved, and marveled at the power she had felt, seething beneath her hand. Had it taken greater strength on his part to hold back? Surely he’d wanted to kill Renauld for his impudence and disrespect. Did fear of the king’s repercussions stay his hand or fear of Renauld? She knew
nothing of Renauld’s fighting skills, only of his black heart and evil ways. Was there some history between the two men that she did not know of?

What did she know of her husband beyond the tales told of his birth and the fact that her father had saved his life when he was just a lad? She did not even know in what manner her father had saved him, only that Rhys owed him his life. That was why he’d married her. To honor his debt to her father. Did he find the bargain ill met now that he had Renauld Vannoy as an enemy?

Rhys turned, finally, from his contemplation of the fire. He gathered his clothes and put them on with great care. When finally he was dressed once more, he came to the bed. He gazed down at her for a long moment and then picked up a tendril of her hair that curled over her arm. Llyr growled and Rhys silenced him with a look. He rubbed his fingers over the locks, as he had before, when her braid came undone during the battle. “ ’Twoud be a shame to hide such a thing of beauty.”

“Milord?” Why would she hide her hair?

“At court. The fashions of women escape me at times.”

Of what does he speak?

His face changed, his moment of whimsy gone. He dropped her hair as if it burned him and straightened. “I am sorry for the pain I caused you this eve. Rest assured that I will not do so again.”

She shook her head in confusion. He was so formal, so stiff. Where was the man who teased her? Who fought for her? Who nearly drove her mad with his kiss? “I do not understand.”

Rhys looked down, beyond, above, and then finally at her, with dark eyes full of desperate pain.

“I will not touch you again, Eliane. Unless you desire it.”

Desire it?
The door closed behind him. “I have lost something precious,” she said to Llyr. But for the life of her, she could not put a name to what it was she had lost.

Renauld snatched his arm from the huntsman’s grasp.
He dares much, this servant of Edward.
No longer Edward’s servant. Now de Remy’s through his marriage to Eliane.
Eliane
…

“Do you need help to find your way?” Han asked.

Renauld’s hand touched the hilt of his sword. If only he could wipe that self-satisfied smirk off the huntsman’s face. But he dared not. Not when he was within the walls of Aubregate. He stepped out to the bailey and turned his face upward to the snow, hoping it would cool his temper…for the moment.

His men-at-arms and horses were sheltered beneath an overhang by the gate. Apparently Aubregate had not extended the same hospitality to his men that they had to Salisbury’s. Another slight that he would remember when he was master of this keep. Another thing that he would enjoy using against Eliane.

Elaine
…

“Tell your master I will see him at court,” Renauld said as he swung into the saddle. He knew his men and horses were exhausted, but he had little choice. The walls were full of armed men just waiting for an excuse to bury him beneath a barrage of arrows.

Someday they will swear to me
…Someday soon
they would all be under his rule. De Remy would be dead and Eliane would be his. As his horse settled wearily into a slow trot through the snow, he allowed his thoughts to dwell on the most surprising revelation of this eve. Eliane.

When had she become so beautiful? She was not as he remembered. Not at all. Never in his wildest imaginings had he pictured her thus. His cock had sprung to life at the sight of her with her hair tumbled down and her face raw with emotion. The sight of her virgin’s blood on the sheets had nearly driven him mad with want. To have been the first to touch her as de Remy had been…It should have been he. She had been under his nose all these years and he had not seen it. He’d been biding his time, waiting for Edward’s certain demise, waiting for the exact moment to go before the king…