Lady Trent (35 page)

“How dare you!”

“How dare I what? Speak the truth?”

“You verbally attack my character….for no
reason at all other than a lust that you, yourself, cannot control.
I am not the one with the problem, Sir Marcus, you are. So deal
with it on your own. I want no part of it. You-you provoke me, and
you criticize.”

“I criticize myself,” he loudly claimed. His
gaze dropped but for a second before coming up to meet hers again.
He was quieter now, finishing off where he’d left, “for feeling
this disappointment, as if I had, indeed, hoped to be the one.”

“As if I would betray my husband.”

“As if I would betray my friend.”

“Then why are you speaking to me like this,
probing into affairs you have no right at all to question.”

“Because I am disappointed. Is it my right to
be? No. I cannot go about acting as if all is well. It becomes
harder for me to do so with time.”

“All
is
well.”

“Perhaps for you. You’ve discovered a remedy
that I, myself, have already resorted to, one that can only suffice
for so long.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“You speak as if I have had desire for you
and none at all for my husband, which is far from the truth.”

“Sharing his bed may appease your desires.
Perhaps it will cure them forever. For your sake, I hope so.” Grief
covered his countenance. He touched her chin. “I’m sorry, Rachel.
The fact that you not only love him but are also his lover now
makes me feel very alone.”

With that, after a long stare, he dropped his
hand, step back, and left her alone. She made one well-deserved
trip to the altar.

******

Marcus found a measure of solace outside on
the upper roof. He stared down at the quiet and calm surroundings.
Curfew was at the tenth hour this night, and by now it was the
eleventh.

“Ah, Marcus,” he heard and turned to see
Father Nelson edging his way toward him—with some trouble in his
leg judging by the way he hobbled along. His cane did not seem near
as helpful as once upon a time.

Marcus redirected his attention to the stars.
The sky was full of them tonight.

“Father Nelson,” he greeted. “What are you
doing out and about, up here this time of night?”

“I, too, am a man of sorrow, my son,” he
said. Marcus looked at him again. Father Nelson, leaving a few feet
of space between them, turned to get a look at the sky for
himself.

“A beautiful night,” he praised. “Rare, it
is, to see so many stars this time of year.”

He’d thought so himself.

Father Nelson did not admire the scene very
long. His gaze lowered and he turned it upon Marcus’s profile.
“What is this-this sad countenance?” He asked, and then observed a
bottle of strong drink that Marcus had set upon the ledge. “And
this…?”

“Surely you will not reprimand a man for
indulging in something you, yourself, are known to indulge in on
occasion.”

“No, no,” he quickly assured. “I was merely
going to ask if you would spare an old man a sip from your
bottle.”

A lazy grin touched Marcus’s lips. With a
hand, he slid the bottle toward Father Nelson, who with a smile of
his own raised it up, staring at it for a time before taking a
large swallow. He lowered the bottle, smacking his lips to analyze
the flavor.

“Ah, good, very good”

“From Port Templeton,” he told him.

“Well deserved to be known for producing the
finest, and smoothest I might add, in strong spirits.”

“That they are,” he slowly agreed, and took
the bottle to take a generous swallow for himself.

“You do not look so well, Sir Marcus. Tell
me, what ails you?”

Marcus continued to look up at the stars.
“Have you ever been in love?”

“Love,” he repeated. “I suppose we have all
loved….and lost at that.”

“Then you have been in love.”

“A man of my age is bound to have felt the
sting of love for a woman…..perhaps even more than once. I must
say, Sir Marcus, I do not have five children for nothing.”

His brows rose at him. “Five?”

He helped himself to another drink. “You
didn’t know?”

“No, I…” He stopped, commenting simply,
“Five.”

“Well, it is not something one goes around
pointing out. It is comforting to know that those I have entrusted
with such secrets have been faithful in not repeating them. Not
that I would ever deny my past. I am not the slightest bit
ashamed.”

“Five children,” he repeated, staring out
into the night.

“Two girls by one—twins…and two others, each
by a different mother, and a son by another.”

“Five,” he repeated again before asking, “Did
you love them all, these four women?”

“Oh, yes, very much so. Still do, in fact.
One does not merely stop loving once they have begun.”

“How is that possible?” He quietly asked, as
if to himself. “To love so many women? To truly love them…would you
not love one least than another and another more?”

“You are a wise man, Sir Marcus, for you
could not have said it any better. There are those you love more,
those less. I will say this. The one you love the most will likely
be the one you have most reason not to.” He took another drink,
lowering the bottle back to the ledge. “Yes, love is a very
mysterious thing. Boundaries do not apply to it, rather they are
crossed. It draws people from various types together, and all too
often drives the heart toward those who are not even available to
love.”

“Was this the case with the one you truly
loved?”

“I loved them all. God spare me, but I loved
them all. But my Elizabeth was the apple of my eye. She was….” He
grinned staring out, reminiscing, “….unlike any woman I had ever
met, and to this day have yet to meet. In fact, while I was a
saint, she was quite the little reprobate.” This seemed to amuse
him.

“How so?”

“Well, I had just become what I am today,
although there were a few dark spells where I thought I had lost my
right as a sacred representative. Elizabeth was the beginning of
that. She was quite the malicious one, greedy and flamboyant and
provocative, so spontaneous and carefree. I’ve never known a woman
to be so ambitious. And, my, such beauty. She was very beautiful.
And she did not care what anyone thought of her. No, not at all.
She did not pretend or try to be anything other than what she was:
quite the little reprobate.” He chuckled. “Now, don’t get me wrong,
she was not dark and sinful. But compared to me, she was very
sinful, and very different from anyone I had ever acquainted myself
with. I fell in love with her immediately.”

“Did she love you as well?”

“Oh, yes, very much. But I departed that
place before things could go any further than was acceptable. I
travelled on…met the others in-between. Yes, I loved them. Each and
every one of them, but I winded up transgressing even worse than if
I would’ve just given in and taken heed to her and her alone. I
fought my inner man, in the end lost. I lost terribly.”

“Then you never knew her.”

“Two years passed. I could not shake her from
my mind, rather my heart that had fallen so harshly in love with
her. I was smitten. Terribly smitten—to the point I even became ill
with love for her, so I returned in search of her. She had gone to
some other place. After a few weeks travelling to and fro, going by
word alone of others who claimed to have met her and knew something
about her, I found her.” He grinned big up at the heavens. “It was
quite a reunion, one I shall never forget. It was she whom I loved
the most. It was she who bore my twin daughters, and she who died
giving birth to them.” Although sad an ending, he did not frown at
it. “So, you see, although I was cursed by my affections, I was
blessed just the same. I have children, although I hear very little
from them. None of these women are yet alive, save one. We write
from time to time. But at my age, I’m content to be as I am. At
your age…well, that was quite a different story.”

A space of silence fell while they passed the
bottle between them, and until Father Nelson came to say, “What
caused you to ask? Surely you, yourself, are in love.”

Either the old man could see the truth, or
Marcus’s conscience was working against him. Not something he was
accustomed to.

“I have loved nobody but myself,” he found
himself saying. “For many, many years. Now I
am
truly in
love.”

“And engaged to be wed,” he acknowledged.
“This lady should consider herself blessed. You are a fine man, Sir
Marcus. Now, it is also my understanding you will be wed the first
of Fall.”

“The end,” he corrected.

“Ah, the end of Fall. Winter comes quickly.
It shall turn cold and you into a father in no time.”

Marcus grinned at him, patted his back. “I’m
sure of it,” he said, handing the bottle to him. He then thanked
the elder for the conversation before going away to his chamber to
rethink his priorities.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The event lasted a total of four days and
went very well. The noble guests stayed in their own private
chambers; Of course, the husbands came as well. So while she
entertained the ladies, Jacob entertained the males, usually with
trips about his land, and hunting expeditions, things of such. As
hoped for, she gained the support of the ladies. Donations were
given then and there, and some afterward delivered by trustworthy
messengers and guards. Rachel took delight in dispersing this
money, rather the necessities purchased by it. Homes in need of
repair were fixed. Materials for clothing were delivered. A trip to
Orland brought about other necessities, and she received reports
continually of the provisions being dispersed by the hands of
servants via the ladies in their own domains. This made her happy.
But there was something just not right. Something unsettling inside
her. She was convinced that she was plagued…that Marcus would
forever hold a tender spot in her heart, her inner woman, and that
it would forever vex her.

There were a few days she stayed in her
chambers, receiving nobody, requesting to be left alone. Jacob
respected this. Except on one particular day he did make an
entrance, greeting her with a rather sad countenance. She was
sitting on the settee and would have stood. He stopped her, taking
the spot beside of her, and with an arm around her shoulders hugged
her to him.

“You have been troubled,” he said, and she
said nothing. He suddenly stood, placing his hands behind his back,
and paced a few steps.

“My initial thought was that you may be with
child.”

She shook her head. “No, I am not.”

“I realize that. So I have narrowed this
depressed mood of yours down to one single, solitaire cause.”

She did not look up. His words and the
possibility behind them put a heavy, sinking dread in the pits of
her stomach.

“I know what troubles you,” he said, and
stopped to gaze down at her.

“You do,” she said, unable to look at him any
longer.

“And while the very idea of it disturbs me, I
can no longer ignore it.”

She too stood and would have begun explaining
herself. Just how exactly would she explain? He stopped her,
placing his hands to her shoulders which he squeezed in a most
comforting manner. “I have thought it over these past two weeks or
so, waiting for you to bring it to light on your own. Since you
haven’t, I doubt you will at all. But despite my own reluctance—and
I know I would miss you terribly—I think it time you set off for
Westerly and visit your friends and sisters.”

She searched his eyes. He grinned
thoughtfully. “I know you miss them. It would be selfish of me to
keep you here without even an offer to go see them.”

“You mean…“ Her gaze skipped from left to
right before settling again with his. She felt very relieved,
because for a horrible space of time she’d thought he would blame
her mood on Marcus.

“Yes.” He pulled her close and held her. “You
should accept. After all, you have known the place and its people
all your life. It’s only logical you would miss them, and that you
should see them again.”

He pulled her away and she smiled at him.
“You’re too gracious.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “I will
arrange to have you escorted. Messages will be sent ahead of time
to the nobles along that way so that you will have places to settle
here and there during the night. I will appoint plenty of guards
over you, and you may take your handmaidens. But if you fail to
return, it will mean death to those in whose hands I’ve entrusted
you.”

She laughed. He did, too, and they
embraced.

“See there.” He tilted her chin. “Already you
are brought back to life.”

He caressed her hair, and she leaned into him
and kissed him. Later in his bed they made love. They made love as
if they had never made love before.

******

The trip was quickly arranged. Dozens of
guards were assembled and instructed. Tilly and Zaria had packed
their belongings and would ride in a separate carriage. The morning
she was to leave she said farewell to her husband, who was himself
about to venture out to Port Templeton for a matter he didn’t
bother discussing. They embraced, kissed, embraced and kissed
again. He left fluently, as if fearing he would otherwise not leave
at all, or maybe even persuade her to stay.

At the ninth hour she was escorted by Marty,
also to join them, to a carriage awaiting her in the courtyard. Her
steps slowed and she frowned upon the sight of Marcus hoisted upon
a tall dark stallion, dressed in full attire of a guard.

Her feet halted dead in their tracks as she
stopped to peer hatefully up at him. “What are you doing?” She
instantly demanded.