Vengeance 02 - Trust In Me (19 page)

Nicholas’s sense of urgency for Elizabeth being in danger had lessened, but what he’d seen in his visions left him uneasy. The most recent one had failed to come to fruition, but was that because he’d kept a close eye on Elizabeth or was the danger yet to come?

Nay, he could not doubt himself. Somehow all of his recent visions had to be intertwined. He needed to keep his mind clear and open with the hope that he could gather more information to resolve the questions the visions had raised.

That path held danger, for if he had another vision in front of Elizabeth, he doubted he’d be able to conceal it. The headache and nausea were more than he could hide. And when she found out the truth, she’d think him some sort of beast and insist on returning to Amberley. He couldn’t let that happen.

Though the marriage they had was awkward at best, he knew he couldn’t return to the existence he’d had before, for that was all it had been.

Existing, not living.

Yesterday at the cottage, he’d caught a glimpse of what he could have with Elizabeth. She brought with her such happiness, such pleasure, that to deny her was to deny himself.

Yet he had to keep her at arm’s length. Allowing her closer would only end in disaster. She’d discover his terrible secret, and he’d lose her. Even if she could somehow accept his second sight, he couldn’t give her what she wanted: a family. Never would he subject an innocent child to the possibility of inheriting his curse.

But if he could get the mystery solved of why he’d had a vision of Elizabeth’s cousin, and who might want to harm her, then perhaps his visions would end, at least for a time. And that time could be spent with Elizabeth. If William would recover and tell them what had happened, that might lessen his visions as well.

He snorted at his thoughts. If, if, if. He couldn’t plan based on what might be. All he knew was that he had to protect her. He couldn’t allow their attraction for each other to grow more than it already had.

“Stephen, keep the extra men at the gate. I want all suspicious activity reported. And one more thing. Be certain Lady Elizabeth doesn’t leave without proper escort.”

Stephen nodded. “Of course, my lord.”

For now, that was all he could do to protect her. Watch and wait and stay away from her.

*

The small chapel was the highest room in the castle, placing it the closest to God. A vaulted ceiling made of stone arches spanned the room. Sunlight reflected off of the lime-washed walls. Elizabeth caught sight of the priest near the front of the chapel.

“Father Michael? May I speak with you?” Her voice echoed in the cavernous chamber.

The priest turned from his desk where a large piece of parchment was anchored. “Lady de Bremont!” His voice quivered, whether from nervousness or excitement, she wasn’t certain. “How delightful!”

“I’m sorry to interrupt your work.” She noted the ink stains on his fingers as she neared, but couldn’t make out the words penned on the parchment. “Shall I return another time?”

He shot up, bobbling the pots of ink on the table. “Nay, my lady. My work is of little importance next to you.” He came over to where she stood. “What brings you to the chapel this time of day? Is there something I can do for you?”

She hesitated, wondering if she should raise the question she’d come to discuss.

“It’s not Sir William, is it? Has there been a change in his condition?” he asked, his forehead wrinkled in concern.

“Nay, nothing like that. Although that is related to the reason I’m here.” How did she bring up the subject of curses without sounding like a fool?

Father Michael looked at her curiously. He smiled, his round face was open and held an expression of childlike eagerness. How could he possibly help her?

She sighed, certain she’d lived lifetimes longer than he had. Yet she had nothing to lose by voicing her question.

“I wondered if you thought...that is...if you’d ever experienced, or rather met anyone who thought themselves cursed?” How could he understand what she’d meant when she’d asked her question in such a bumbling manner?

He rubbed his chin. “My, that is a grave matter indeed. Is it someone you know?” His voice had gentled, his blue eyes kind and sympathetic.

His compassion intensified her loneliness. Strong and sharp, it brought tears to her eyes. She missed her father, Gregory, Margaret, Robert, her home, all with an ache that made it difficult to catch her breath. How strange to walk through the keep and know so few people. To have no one to speak with, to discuss matters with, to have no one on her side. She missed that deeply.

She shook her head. She’d been wrong to speak with Father Michael. He was a stranger. A priest perhaps, but still a stranger. She took a step back, then panicked when he took her hand.

He released it but held her in place with the intensity of his gaze. “I have found in my limited experience that the person who thinks they’ve encountered a curse is often not truly cursed at all.”

The confident tone of his voice caught her attention.

“We humans are strange creatures.” He smiled. “Always ready to believe that the events unfolding, or as the case may be, not unfolding, are our doing. We are not the center of the universe. God is. Events are rarely caused by something we did, whether it’s not praying hard enough, or not being deserving enough.”

Elizabeth stood there, absorbing the priest’s words. They held a ring of truth.

“We are not in control, and it is not our place to question God’s purpose.”

She looked up at the vaulted ceiling and took a deep breath, the knot in her stomach loosening. Had the events in her life truly not been her fault? Could she accept that in her heart? She certainly had much to think about.

“All we can do is try our best and do what’s right,” he continued. “That has to be enough.” He clasped his hands before him, his demeanor calm. “You are a good person, my lady. Of that, I have no doubt.”

“Thank you. That is helpful. I will ponder what you have said.”

“And share them with the person you thought might be cursed?” He gave her a knowing smile.

“Of course.” She smiled in return. “Will you be dining with us this evening?”

“Indeed, my lady. I look forward to seeing you in the hall.”

Elizabeth thought over what Father Michael had said as she descended the stairs and entered the great hall. A weight had lifted from her shoulders at the idea of releasing her guilt. On a rational level, she knew she held no blame in the death of her mother or her brother, let alone her father’s fragile grasp on sanity. Yet on an emotional level, she’d always felt the burden of failure was hers. Changing that feeling after all these years would take time and effort.

As would changing her husband’s mind about the events surrounding William’s situation.

But, she had to undertake that task as well.

And she would do so this very night.

Chapter Nineteen

The great hall already bustled with people in anticipation of the evening meal. Elizabeth crossed to the high table on the dais where Nicholas sat, well aware of his gaze on her.

He frowned as she approached. “Kind of you to join us, my lady. I’d thought you’d left us again.”

His veiled sarcasm at her tardiness grated on her nerves. How she missed the pleasant supper companion she’d sat beside at Amberley. The one who’d flirted with her and been attentive and kind.

Feeling bold, she took her place beside him and for once, said what was on her mind. “I must say, I rather miss Lord Trisbane.”

He stared at her, his expression perplexed. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged, deciding it best for him to determine her meaning on his own. A nod to Walter had him signaling the servants to bring out the platters of food. The aromatic scent of pumpes filled the air, making her stomach grumble. The pork meatballs mixed with cloves, mace, and raisins in a sauce were one of her favorite dishes. Spit-roasted chicken seasoned with thyme came next along with smoked fish and a broth made with bacon. Trenchers neatly lined the head table, the spoons facing downward to prevent evil spirits from lingering there.

As she selected food from the assortment before her to serve both Nicholas and herself, she decided to continue with her bold attitude. “I would speak with you after our meal.”

His hand paused above his cup of ale. “Why?” he asked, his voice wary.

She speared a pumpe with her knife and popped the savory concoction into her mouth, chewing as she tried to determine the best approach to raise the subject. “I have several things I’d like to discuss.”

“Such as?”

“Do I need approval on each topic before approaching you? Should I submit a list?” Exasperated at his obvious reluctance to talk to her, she let her sarcastic tone match his.

He took a long draught of ale.

“Now you require the aid of a stout drink to speak with me?”

He set down his cup with care, and then refilled it from the flagon with the same deliberate movements. At last he turned toward her, his blue eyes narrowed. “If this has to do with William and you abandoning him at the gate – ”

She gasped, shocked by both his accurate guess of her intentions and his heartless words.

“Then I suggest we avoid the conversation,” he continued as he lifted his cup and drained it yet again. “It puts me in the foulest of moods.”

She held her tongue, for she dearly longed to ask what didn’t cause him to be in a foul mood. “All I ask for is a few moments of your time.”

Nicholas’s gaze caught on something over her shoulder, and she looked across the room to find Father Michael staring at her. The priest waggled his fingers and gave her a friendly smile, his boyish charm back in place.

She returned his greeting with a nod then ate another pumpe. Though her visit with Father Michael hadn’t resolved anything, she felt better for it. The priest seemed to think she could do no wrong. An admirer was rather pleasant compared to the gruff behavior her husband displayed toward her.

Nicholas’s frown darkened as his focus remained on Father Michael. “Sharing secrets with the priest, are we?”

Heat stung her cheeks. How did he know so much? It was as though he had a spy who informed him of her movements. She swallowed the suddenly tasteless meatball. “What secrets would I have to share?”

He leaned forward, his blue eyes boring into her. “Did you tell him of the events of yesterday?”

Anger flooded her, washing away the embarrassment. “You mean when you found me unfit to bed, though I am your wife? Why on earth would I discuss such a topic with anyone?”

He raised a brow, his gaze shuttered. “Confessing your sins? That must’ve taken some time.”

“I have committed no sins. ’Tis you, not I, who have sinned by not honoring our marriage before God.”

He snorted.

“You, my lord, are an ass.” She clenched her teeth before any other foul words escaped her lips. What had brought on his belligerent attitude?

“Oh?” He exclaimed, his tone full of false shock and dismay. “My lady does not care to hear the truth?”

“You are the one who fails to listen.”

“I refuse to listen to lies.”

“You refuse to listen to anything that doesn’t fit your version of the truth.” Elizabeth paused, realizing there was an unnatural silence in the hall. As she looked around, she realized several people had stopped eating to watch them.

Nicholas’s gaze followed hers. He drew a deep breath as though to calm his own anger.

She reined in her temper and continued in a quieter tone, “I simply wish for the chance to explain the details surrounding William’s stay with us. Perhaps ’tis you who are afraid to hear the truth.”

“A crowded hall is not the place to have this conversation.”

“Precisely. After the meal would be better.” Moments passed before she realized she’d won when he no longer denied her.

She drew a deep breath and turned her attention back to the meal. She’d eaten several bites before it dawned on her what she was eating. “Spring peas.”

Nicholas suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Aye. What of it?”

“I thought onions were on the menu for this evening. The cook said we had more of those than anything else.”

“Humph.” Her husband’s attention was engrossed in the food before him, and he made no further comment.

A new bench in her chamber and peas for supper.

She was convinced Nicholas was responsible for both and didn’t know what to make of it. How could she reconcile the different sides he portrayed?

“They’re my favorite, you know,” she said, hoping for a reaction.

“Really. Nay, I did not know that.” He sounded bored by the conversation.

“Liar,” she said under her breath.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, my lord. Nothing.” A smile curved her lips no matter how hard she tried to remove it. Perhaps she should hold on to her hope after all.

When the meal was finished, Nicholas stood and, with a brief nod to her, left the hall. Although at times he remained to play chess with Walter or visit with his men, tonight he seemed most anxious to leave.

Elizabeth knew he hoped to avoid her. Again. But no matter. She wouldn’t allow him to escape. Nerves tapped along her skin as she rose to follow him.

He stepped out the front door, and Elizabeth was close behind.

The sun had set, leaving the horizon awash in rose and amber, the colors soft and warm. A chill filled the air now that the heat of the sun wasn’t there to beat it back.

Well aware Nicholas could outdistance her with his long stride, she called out to him, “My lord?”

He turned to face her from the foot of the steps, his blue eyes cool and watchful.

Elizabeth hurried to catch up with him. “A word if you please.”

Nicholas shook his head and turned partially away, his gaze fixed on the distant hills. “Why do you insist on this? It serves no purpose. I already know what happened.”

“Please, Nicholas. Listen to what I have to say.”

He tilted his head to the side then touched his temple for a moment, a sure sign that he had another headache brewing. That was a discussion for another day, for the severity and the frequency of them concerned her.

She steeled herself from the sympathy stirring in her and pressed her case. “Will you do as I ask?”

“Certainly. Let’s go through this all again,” Nicholas said, his tone impatient.

Though his attitude stung, she’d expected nothing less. Why did that not take away the pain his derision caused?

Still, she had to grab this opportunity. Too much was at stake to let it slide by. The chance for a life with this man was worth nearly any risk. Surely if they could work out their differences, starting with him understanding why she’d left William at his doorstep, his anger toward her would lessen, and they’d have a chance for a future.

“As I mentioned earlier, my cousin, Gerard, escorted my father to the tournament in which my brother competed. Gregory had performed well in past tournaments, and Father was anxious to see him take to the lists. During the first pass of the joust, Gregory struck the right shoulder of his opponent. It was a good strike, and should’ve unseated the other man from his horse. But the knight held on, and they prepared for another pass.”

Nicholas said nothing, but at least he didn’t stop her. She took that as encouragement to continue.

“That next pass was delayed. The reason given for that is unclear and varied depending upon with whom my father spoke. But during that delay, Gregory’s adversary chose to pick up a lance with a steel tip rather than a blunted one.”

She rubbed her arms as the coolness of the air became more pronounced, or perhaps it was just the thought of what her brother had endured that nipped at her. She hated thinking about those details. Had Gregory been pleased with his hit and eager for the next pass? Or had he sensed something was wrong at the delay?

She’d watched Gregory joust once, and it had been an impressive sight. The thundering of the horses’ hooves, the clashing of the lances, and the roar of the crowd. Considering her brother’s standing in the tournament before his death, she was certain this joust had been no different.

“You can guess what happened after that. On the next pass, my brother’s opponent struck Gregory and knocked him off his horse. He dismounted and walked to where Gregory had fallen and looked down at him, then walked away.”

That particular part of the story that her father had told her bothered her the most. Why had the man done that? To make certain Gregory was dead? She wondered if she’d ever know the reason her brother had been killed so senselessly.

She shook her head to try to clear her troubled thoughts and refocus on the facts. “Gregory died before my father made it onto the field to see him. My cousin, Gerard, was there and saw the whole thing. There was no doubt as to what happened.”

“So your father believed William to be the knight who struck down your brother?” The flat tone of his words disappointed Elizabeth. All her efforts had gained her nothing, certainly not his understanding.

“Gregory’s opponent wore William’s colors. William still had them on when Father found him. Several people witnessed the entire incident. William’s guilt was confirmed by the injury on his right shoulder which matched the strike Gregory had given him. Surely you can see why my father took action,” Elizabeth argued, angry that her tone had become defensive. Angry that Nicholas didn’t – or rather wouldn’t – understand.

“Your father acted on information that was false, despite the circumstances.” Anger laced Nicholas’s voice as well.

“How was he supposed to know that? Given the situation, you would’ve done the same.”

Nicholas’s expression showed no reaction to her argument.

Elizabeth stalked away a few steps, her back to Nicholas, trying hard to hold her emotions under control. She needed to keep her wits about her.

Then it dawned on her, what she’d missed seeing all along.

She whirled back to face her husband. “You would’ve done the same. In fact, you
did
the same. You sought revenge for what was done to
your
brother.”

Nicholas scoffed and folded his arms across his chest. “You can’t compare me to your father.”

“It seems quite appropriate to me.”

“’Tis nothing of the sort,” he said as he gestured with his hand. “I didn’t rely on circumstances. I knew I had the guilty person.”

She opened her mouth to speak but paused as doubt at his words filled her. “Nay. That is not true. You didn’t confront us until you’d been at Amberley a full day. Why is that?”

Now Nicholas turned and walked away. He stared across the bailey at the darkening sky. “This conversation is ridiculous.”

“Tell me why. What led you to us? Why did you even come to Amberley if you weren’t sure it was the place you sought?”

Nicholas spun around, his fury taking her back a step. “The whys of it make no difference. I found the right place and the guilty party. Your father nearly killed my brother by letting him rot in your dungeon. That, I will not forgive.”

Elizabeth shook her head, hope slipping from her grasp.

“And you!” He pointed his finger in her face. “You were no better. You left William dying in a cart at the gate of my holding, then fled. The act of a coward for certain.”

Elizabeth’s eyes filled with tears, her heart reeling with pain at his accusations, for they were true. Yet, she’d come this far. She had to make him understand why. “I became convinced of William’s innocence, so I freed him and delivered him to you. I was certain he’d be better off with you. Then, I fled to protect my father.”

“That is not how I see it, my dear
wife
. Not only did you abandon William, you tried to deceive me from the moment I arrived at Amberley. You hid your father. You even went so far as to try to seduce me.”

Elizabeth gasped in dismay. “How dare you!”