Everlasting (25 page)

 
Thurstan bowed to her. “Have a good evening, my lady.”

 
Only when Desmond’s nephew had ascended the stairs to find his chamber did Raven turn back to her. “That didna seem a pleasant conversation.”

 
“You did not need to interrupt us. Will you always be playing my bodyguard now?”

 
He smiled. “If ’tis necessary.” His eyes grew watchful. “Was it with him?”

 
“Nay, I handled our disagreement. Please do not interrupt me again.”

 
When she rose to her feet, she heard him whisper, “Ah, but ye like my attention, lass.”

 
Inside her, something trembled, and she despised her weakness where he was concerned. “I think not. Good evening.”

CHAPTER 11

 
Although Abrielle felt as if she’d made Thurstan understand her position, she still took the steward of the keep with her as a precaution when she visited the serfs’ village the next morning to see how the work had begun. It was wonderful to see how much more lively the people already were with food in their bellies.

 
Her fears were also eased when her new maid, Nedda, suggested that her parents might ease her loneliness by moving into the spacious chambers next to her own. Abrielle and her mother were delighted with the idea. As for Vachel, he was more than willing to satisfy every wish his stepdaughter might have now that she was a widow, especially if it meant getting back into the good graces of his wife. To a great degree, Elspeth had shared the trauma her offspring had recently suffered and, as a parent, wished to provide whatever succor she could offer in an attempt to alleviate any lingering fears Abrielle might have still been suffering after her abbreviated union to Desmond de Marlé.

 
It was while she was enjoying a private dinner with her parents that Abrielle broached a subject that Desmond’s demise had forced her to
consider. “Now that I’ve become a wealthy widow, ’twould seem that what my mother and I once confronted shortly after my father’s death is happening again…but with definite differences, bachelors looking for a rich wife to marry, rather than seeking to strip me of my virtue to amuse wagering lords. I’d rather not have to confront any of them, no matter the title or fortune they may have.”

 
Laying aside his knife, Vachel peered at her with a troubled frown. “I believe you have suffered much for our family’s sake, Abrielle, and for that, I must apologize…and, at the same time, thank you for what you did for us. I was in deep despair prior to your marriage to Desmond, wondering how my family would survive. Because of your willingness to sacrifice your own happiness, I feel as if I’ve been immeasurably blessed by your compassion. I doubt I can ever repay you for what you’ve done.”

 
Abrielle met his gaze and smiled. “By some merciful stroke of providence, I escaped that abhorrent marriage. Considering that I am now wealthy and there’ll likely be many who’ll be appreciative of that fact and eager to assuage their own greed, I suggest that if you wish me to consider anyone, present him to me first, and then I shall tell you whether he pleases me or not. I will bear in mind any marriage proposals you may receive from prospective suitors, but I also must tell you that no amount of cajoling will sway me if I don’t care for the man. Desmond became a nightmare. I don’t ever want to wed another of similar bent.”

 
She did not want to worry them by mentioning Thurstan’s strange proposal, so she kept silent, hoping that Thurstan would not be so foolish as to challenge her again.

 
An amused smile tugged at Elspeth’s lips as she peered askance at her husband. “I think your matchmaking credentials have now been thoroughly singed.”

 
Vachel waggled his head, as if reluctant to admit having that flaw, but a moment later a soft chuckle escaped him. “At least the marriage
was short-lived. What about that young Raven Seabern?” he ventured, cocking a quizzical brow at her as he met her unswerving gaze.

 
“A Scotsman?” Abrielle said, pretending shock, for not even to her own parents would she admit how frequently her thoughts turned to this particular Scotsman. Knowing, as she did, that he was not a suitable choice for husband made it even more perplexing that his should be the first face her gaze sought when she entered a room, though truly it did not need to do so, as her ears had become so sensitive to his rough-edged tone she could find him without looking. It made no sense at all, and if she couldn’t understand it herself, how could she hope to explain her tumultuous feelings to anyone else?

 
Softly, Elspeth said to her husband, “We have already spoken about this matter, my dear. He is not a man she is considering.”

 
Abrielle did not like how her stepfather studied her too closely.

 
“You are now one of the richest women in all of Christendom,” he continued. “Soon you may have a whole league of suitors vying for your hand.”

 
She arched a brow. “Perhaps I have no interest in them.”

 
“But you are pleased to be a wealthy widow now, are you not?” Vachel queried, elevating a handsome brow as he awaited her answer. “Now be honest and tell me truly.”

 
“Were I given a choice between poverty while married to a man I can love and honor, and wealth while being miserable with someone as despicable as Desmond, I can assure you that I’d rather be poor and wed to a man I can love. If you haven’t realized it yet, Sir Vachel, wealth is a pitifully poor replacement for genuine love and simple contentment.”

 
“My dear, you’ve never known true poverty if you haven’t gone to bed hungry or been bereft of clothing to keep you warm,” he countered. Although her valiant assertions were what he would’ve expected from one so young and innocent, he was nevertheless irked by her declarations. No one who had ever experienced weeks of hunger could
lightly sweep those memories from mind. Even now he was prone to wake in the dead of night with disturbing memories still fresh in his mind. To be sure, the years he had fought against the Turks and others had left a lasting mark on his memory.

 
Meeting his gaze directly, Abrielle dared to challenge, “Can you honestly declare that during your lifetime you’ve experienced a serious dearth of those things you mentioned?”

 
Vachel leaned back in his chair and was silent a long moment as he pondered whether to recount the hardships he had experienced or keep them to himself. Finally he decided the truth needed to be told. “If I’ve seemed eager for wealth, Abrielle, then perhaps I’ve had just cause. There were times when I experienced great hardships. I have fought here in this country for my king as well as confronting infidels in foreign lands. During those times, I was forced to sleep on a cold, hard ground without even a cloak to warm me and with my belly so empty that it refused to stop gnawing at me. Aye, there have been times when I’ve yearned desperately for a few coins to buy some small bit of sustenance to assuage my hunger, but alas, they never came during those desperate hours of need, and I was forced to bear it as well as I could. As you can see for yourself, I survived those difficult trials, but not without becoming more appreciative of a full stomach, a bed upon which I can sleep, and a weighty purse that I can call my own.”

 
Elspeth looked at him in some bemusement. “Vachel, why is it that you’ve never cared to discuss those arduous experiences with me directly? If I hadn’t overheard you at your father’s funeral telling your cousins of your experiences, I would never have known how deeply you had suffered.”

 
His wide shoulders lifted briefly in a casual shrug. “I didn’t think you would find them interesting, my dear. I only talk about them when I’m asked how difficult a campaign it had been over there. Few women enjoy hearing such tales.”

 
“Oh, but they are interesting,” Elspeth insisted. “At least to me.
From what I’ve been able to ascertain from those who went with you on the Crusades, you won the respect of even your worst enemies. As to your valor, I even overheard your cousin say that you had earned the name Stalwart Vachel because you never retreated before the enemy, though you stood facing death time and time again. The scars you bear on your body clearly evidence the battles you fought, and yet I know very little of what you actually endured during those campaigns. I know you were held captive for a time and starved until your men rescued you, but again, I only learned that much from your cousin. Why have you been so reluctant to tell me of your experiences?”

 
“Those events weren’t as glorious as my cousin obviously made them out to be, my love,” Vachel replied. “Those were desperate times, and my men and I had little choice. It was either stand firm against our adversaries or be cut down by their charging horsemen. We chose to fight, and fight we did, nigh to our last breath. Rather than cutting us down as they could have so easily done, the enemy offered us a salute for our bravery in facing greater odds and gave us quarter by riding off the field of battle. I wouldn’t be here today if they hadn’t shown us mercy.” Vachel reached across the table and squeezed his wife’s hand affectionately. “How can I remember those times of danger and desperate need when I find myself in your charming presence, my dear? You make me feel like a wealthy prince upon whom rich blessings are continually being bestowed.”

 
Abrielle glanced between them and realized that she had never noticed such a look of adoration on her mother’s face before, not even during her first marriage. Perhaps, after Abrielle’s own detested nuptials and subsequent widowhood, some benefits had actually been imparted to the older couple, for it was now apparent that Elspeth was very much in love with Vachel, more than Abrielle had previously supposed. Indeed, when Abrielle noticed how her mother’s fingers intertwined with Vachel’s in a loving manner, she could believe they
were very devoted to each other. She found that idea rather amazing, for she had been under the impression after her father had been killed that her mother had accepted Vachel’s proposal merely to quell the attempts of unscrupulous lords and their sons to win their wagers at the cost of Abrielle’s virginity.

 
Elspeth glanced at her daughter and blushed as she stated haltingly, “I have…an important announcement to make…to both of you.”

 
Abrielle exchanged a curious glance with Vachel, who seemed equally bemused. In unison they peered at Elspeth and waited expectantly as she sought to clear her throat. Then, in what could only have been construed as overwhelming embarrassment, she lifted her slender shoulders in a girlish shrug and said simply, “I am with child.”

 
Thoroughly astonished by her revelation, Vachel leaned back in his chair with his handsome jaw hanging slack. “Are you…certain…? Do you have any doubts?”

 
Smiling radiantly, Elspeth reached across the space between them and rested a slender hand upon his. “At least three months certain.”

 
“But why didn’t you tell us before now?” Abrielle insisted, thrilled by the news…and yet a little anxious for her mother’s welfare. After so much time had elapsed since her own birth, she couldn’t help but worry about her parent’s having difficulties in the months to come or in the final birthing process. Although Abrielle had always wanted a sibling, she certainly didn’t want one at the expense of her mother’s life. “Is everything all right with you? You haven’t been experiencing any problems?”

 
“Elspeth, please tell us you are well!” Vachel insisted, turning his hand to clasp hers more firmly. “You must know by now that I wouldn’t be able to bear it if I were to lose you. I never knew what love was until you came into my life.”

 
“I honestly feel fine. Truly, I do,” her mother assured them with a radiant smile. “I only wanted to make certain of my condition before saying anything to either of you. After such a lengthy passage of time
since Abrielle’s birth, having another child seemed nothing more than a futile hope. However, within these past two months, everything has seemed to confirm that I am with child. Just within this past fortnight, I started feeling the movements of the babe, and they are now becoming quite strong…so I am fairly confident that my prayers will be answered approximately six months from now.”

 
“Although this was the last thing I was expecting, the news is by far the best I’ve heard in some time,” Abrielle declared happily. Promptly leaving her chair, she hastened around the table to embrace her mother. “You must know from all the pleading I did as a child that I’ve always wanted a sister.”