Sharon Lanergan (17 page)

Constance shivered in anticipation. “I can hardly wait to return.”

He kissed her ear.

“Can we not skip the hearth?” she asked, her fingers tracing circles on his muscular legs.

Brian laughed at her wicked suggestion and urged Valiant forward.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Constance woke with a start.

The room was dark and Brian’s arms were still around her.

“Hush, it’s all right,” Brian said in the darkness, soothingly stroking her back.

She caught her breath and laid her head on his bare chest. It was all right, she reminded herself.

“Did you dream?” he asked.

She nodded against him.

“Want to tell me about it?”

And before she could change her mind, Constance nodded again. She felt it was time.

She exhaled slowly and rose to stare down into Brian’s face. In the darkness she could not make out his features. She couldn’t decide whether that would be a good thing or not.

As though he could read her mind, Brian asked, “Do you want me to light the sconce?”

“Aye,” she whispered. He rose from his bed and walked to the small side table, then the wall. After a moment the room was illuminated with a yellow glow.

Brian glanced at the cold hearth across the room. “Do you want a fire?”

“Nay, come back to bed,” Constance urged, holding the furs aside.

She waited until he was comfortably ensconced, the furs engulfing both of them. He had situated himself so he was sitting up against the wall, his expression expectant.

Constance opened her mouth on a jest he needn’t look as though he expected her to speak the fate of the world, but closed it, realizing the time was past for jests. At least on this subject.

He did not seek to rush her. He just waited.

“The dream starts out nicely,” Constance broke the heavy silence. “We are at this large gathering, you and I. We perform a courtly dance. We are both laughing.” She shuddered. “But then it, it becomes twisted.”

“How?”

“The faces of the other dancers around us become distorted, pain-filled. They begin to scream and cry and beg for our help.” Constance took a deep breath. “Then, they disappear altogether and the room is empty save for you and I. We run around, looking for them, but we cannot find them. And then there is only one door out of the room. We have no choice but to go through it. But when we do…”

“What?” Brian prodded, when she did not continue.

“Finius Loutrant waits for us,” Constance said, her throat raw from the effort to speak the vile man’s name. “He pulls me into his arms, and then somehow, you are on the ground in chains and he is mocking you, threatening you. I usually awaken just as he is about to k-kill you.”

Brian’s smile was filled with tenderness. His hand reached out and he ran his thumb across her bottom lip. “‘Twas only a dream, love. He won’t hurt you.”

“I am more concerned he might hurt you,” Constance said, voicing her greatest fear.

His dark eyes grew troubled for a moment. “He fell from that tower.”

“Aye, he did,” Constance agreed. “But we both know what we are thinking, Brian.”

“Loutrant lives, somehow, he survived,” Brian said, his voice cold.

Constance met his gaze. “Aye, I do not know how, but he does. We have seen the evidence.”

“At first I thought mayhap someone wanted to make me believe he lived. His half-brother, for instance,” Brian said, echoing his brother’s speculation.

“I had not thought of that. But he is so young.”

“Aye, but he has always been under Finius’ thumb.” Brian shook his head. “I gave up that notion, though, first when I found his ring and then when a few nights ago I saw what I am nearly certain was Loutrant.”

“What are we to do?”

“I honestly do not know,” Brian said. “We must be on our guard. I will need to warn my brothers and Trevor.”

“Brian, I’m afraid.”

He pulled her into his arms, pushing her head down to his chest. “I will not let him harm you, I vow it.”

Constance nodded, sighed. She knew he meant his words, and she trusted him with her life, but her heart raced frantically with doubts. What could they do against one so treacherous?

“There is still more we need to talk about, love,” Brian said, his breath moving her hair.

“Me and Loutrant.” Constance knew she needed to talk about the abuse she suffered and her own feelings of guilt, but she didn’t know if she could now, or ever.

“Aye, we must talk about this,” Brian agreed. “And many things.” He gently stroked her hair. “Once, I thought I could never speak of what happened, and I still do not know if I can talk openly about it with everyone else, but with you, it is different. And I want you to feel the same with me.”

“I do.”

“I am glad. You told me some of it when you brought me those disgusting meals in the dungeon.”

“Aye,” Constance said. She wrapped her arms tightly around his middle. Lord, she needed his strength. “You know most of it, I think. How he tricked me as the minstrel, how I ran away with him, thinking how romantic and exciting it was.” She heard the self-loathing in her own voice.

“He could be charming when he wanted to be,” Brian replied. “Katherine talked sometimes. He fooled her father, she said. Her father would never have arranged their marriage if he’d known what sort of a man Loutrant was, but he showed a different mask to Katherine than he did to most other people.”

“Aye, exactly. And he had the face of an angel. ‘Twas not until we reached his castle I realized how foolish I had been. It was too late.”

“You could not have guessed,” Brian said. “Loutrant is ever the trickster.”

Constance nodded. “He tricked you into coming to his castle, too, didn’t he?”

“Aye. With a note from Katherine. He forced her into sending it.”

“Why does he hate you so?” she whispered against him.

“So many reasons. The greatest being Katherine’s love for me.” He sighed regretfully. “I was young and foolish. I thought I could play the hero to her abusive husband. It was never my intent to fall in love with her, but I did.”

Constance leaned her head back to look at him. “Do you think you truly loved her or did you love being her savior?”

Brian grimaced. “That was part of it, I think. I have always gravitated to women who needed me.”

Constance swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. She was Katherine all over again to Brian. The realization hit her hard. Another woman who appeared to need him. Another victim who needed his heroism.

“Constance?” Brian frowned. “Why does it feel like I am holding a block of ice?”

She didn’t know how to voice her new fear. But the last thing she wanted to be was another Katherine. And yet the abuse she suffered at the hands of Loutrant wasn’t different than what was suffered by his wife.

Constance shook her head and pushed at his chest to get away, suddenly sure she wanted to make a hasty exit.

Brian seized her arms, gently but firmly. “Where are you going?”

“Back to my room,” Constance said, swallowing the rising bile.

“Why?”

“It’s late.” She averted her gaze.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Brian took her chin in his hand. “What is wrong with you?”

“Tis naught,” Constance blurted out. “I am just tired.”

Brian narrowed his eyes. “Sleep here.”

“Brian.” Constance threaded her fingers through his.

“I don’t think you are her,” he said, his voice flat, emotionless.

“I…I know,” she said after a moment. Her throat was suddenly thick with the tears that flowed. How could she put her shame into words without sounding like the victim she hated so much to be?

“Loutrant, he—he used me in s-so many ways,” Constance told him.

“Aye, he is vile and evil beyond words,” Brian replied.

“I know, but, I wonder if I could have stopped what he did to me,” she whispered.

“He is a madman, sweetheart. He could have easily killed you.” Brian brushed the locks out of her eyes. “The Lord be praised he did not.”

“But…but did I do something to deserve what happened to me?” Constance asked, her voice breaking. “I think about it all the time.”

“Nay, angel. He took you against your will. Imprisoned you. Forced you into servitude.” Brian pulled her into his arms. “There was naught you would have, could have, done to deserve the torment he put you through.”

“I did go willingly with him,” Constance whispered, stirring the hairs on his chest.

“I know, but you could not have known. You didn’t do anything wrong, Constance.”

She wiped a giant tear near her eye. “Then why do I still think about him so much? Why do I dream? Why do I think every day, is there something I could have done differently?”

“Look at me, Constance,” Brian ordered. He waited for her to do so before he continued. Her face had become blotchy with red patches from her crying. “I have thought the same so many times. I still have nightmares, too. Didn’t you tell me not to dwell on what cannot be changed?”

Constance met his gaze. Her bottom lip trembled with uncertainty.

“We’ve both been living in the past, haven’t we, angel?” Brian asked, kissing her lips. “There is little we can do to change what choices we made or what happened to us. We can only make sure they don’t happen again.”

Constance’s mouth widened in a genuine smile and she held his hand to her cheek. “You
have
been listening to what I’ve been saying.”

“It was bound to sink in sooner or later,” Brian replied with a grin. “The point is, it applies to both of us, sweetheart.”

She sighed. “I know. I do, I guess. You know, it’s easier to tell someone else what they are doing is wrong then to see it about yourself.”

“Aye, it is.”

Constance pushed Brian gently so he was lying down once more. She rested her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around his middle.

“When I was growing up, with first my father to protect me, and then your brothers,” Constance said. “I never expected I could end up a prisoner of a vile man like him. I would have thought someone like Katherine weak.”

Brian stroked her hair. “Katherine did have her weaknesses. She might have done things to help herself with Loutrant. She couldn’t bring herself to do them.”

“It must have been hard for her, though. The church does not condone a woman going against her husband. She belongs to him,” Constance pointed out.

“Aye, I know.” Brian’s sigh shook them both. “I failed her.”

“You?” Constance shook her head. “Nay.”

“To be a true hero one needs to be objective,” Brian explained. “I became too involved with her to think clearly. It cost me my edge and Katherine her life. For those reasons, I will always mourn.”

“Mayhap,” Constance said. “But I know you didn’t deliberately fall for another man’s wife.”

“You are correct. I didn’t know at first, but when I did, I did not stop myself, even still.”

“Loutrant was not a normal husband,” Constance said. “Nor was he a normal man.”

“
Is
not,” Brian said quietly. “He is out there somewhere, angel.”

“I know.” Constance clung tightly, her body shaking. “What next?”

Brian thought about it for several hurried beats of their combined hearts. He knew very well he couldn’t let Loutrant haunt their lives forever. If they were to have the happy existence they both deserved, if they were to have a life and a family together, as Brian now hoped was possible, Finius Loutrant would have to be dealt with once and for all.

Brian broke the heavy silence at last. “I have to kill him.”

****

Constance took a large bite of the crusty bread she held in her hand. It was still a while before the midday meal and she had overslept and missed breakfast.

Around her the servants in the kitchen bustled about trying to get everything ready for the biggest meal of the day. Constance watched two young girls preparing fish and she licked her lips in anticipation. Her stomached growled.

She felt a tug on her gown. Looking down, Constance saw a little girl from the village. Myrna was her name.

“Good day to you, Myrna. What can I do for you?” Constance asked, smiling at the pretty girl who was no more than seven.

“Lady Constance, Agnes sent me to fetch you,” Myrna lisped.

“Fetch me for what?”

“She don’t feel well and asked if you would come see her.”

“Ah, I see,” Constance replied. “Well, of course, I will. I’ll just get my cloak if you will wait for me.”

Myrna smiled and nodded.

Constance hurried from the kitchens and up to her room to fetch her fur-lined cloak. The warmth of yesterday had disappeared and the day was cool and overcast.

She wondered if she ought to seek out Brian or one of the others to let them know she had gone off to see Agnes. But she hadn’t seen Brian all morning. Nor any of the rest of the Fitzroys.

Constance found Myrna waiting by the doors in the Great Hall.

“Haven’t you a cloak, Myrna?” Constance wondered, noticing the young girl’s thin kirtle and surcoat.