Dark Destroyer (39 page)

Elreda held her friend until the tears would no longer come, until, exhausted, Rosamund lay back on her pillows and closed her eyes as she was overcome by the emotion of the day. Elreda pulled the coverlet up around her friend, seeing the sunken face and black fingers but remembering the pert nose and exquisite skin instead. That was what she chose to remember.

That was what she chose to see.

As Elreda left Rosamund sleeping in her chamber, the beautiful face from fifteen years ago was, in fact, the only thing she
could
remember.

The night was cold and the dark clouds that had gathered that day had finally started to shed some of their freezing rain. As Kathalin sat at the window, overlooking the now-dark herb garden, the wall if Hyssington beyond that, and then the landscape in the distance over the wall, there was so much in her heart that was frozen like the clouds and the rain, an indefinable coldness that had settled into her soul. She was numb against what was to come, numb against a future that would be determined on this night.

Gates wouldn’t fight for her.

That was all she could think of. He refused to run, refused to take her and marry her. He gave his reasons and although, in theory, she understood him, the truth was that her heart was damaged and all she could see was that his honor meant more to him than she did. Or the honor of Alexander, and the entire houses of de Lohr, de Lara, and de Wolfe. So many people he was concerned with over her, or perhaps it was as he said - he’d never done anything truly honorable with regard to his personal life and felt strongly that he had to start somewhere.

So he started with her and in choosing this situation with which to regain his honor. Maybe it was true what she said, that he didn’t love her enough to take her and flee. That was what it boiled down to, she thought.

He simply didn’t love her enough.

Therefore, she sat and brooded, thinking back to the day she had first met him in the kitchen of St. Milburga’s. She had been attracted to him, then, the very big man in the red de Lara tunic, fighting off the Welsh raiders who had invaded the priory. But that attraction had turned to hate when he had captured her, bound her hand and foot, and carried her off towards home. But the night before they’d reached Hyssington, when she’d seen the soldiers fornicating through the hearth and her wrists had been so terribly chaffed by the rope, he had softened his harsh stance against her and brought her so many lovely things. A peace offering, she knew, but she didn’t care. It was then that the hatred had left and the emotions sprouting up in its place had turned into something warm.

Those warm emotions had turned into adoration for the man. He was strong, wise, humorous, at times, and honest. God’s Bones, he was honest to a fault. She’d learned things about his past she probably didn’t want to know, but in the course of honesty, he had told her. She knew a great deal about him and she still loved him, and he loved her.

… so why was this honor he spoke of worth more to him than she was?

Kathalin didn’t know. She was muddled and distressed, too distressed to eat the food that the Tender of the Keep had brought her earlier in the evening. It now sat, cold and congealed, next to her bed. She couldn’t even think of food at the moment, knowing that Stephan had ridden for a priest. A priest for her wedding. It had grown dark some time ago and she was coming to wonder if the priest would even come this night, as she’d been told.

The answer came soon enough.

A soft knock on her chamber door roused her from her thoughts. Timidly, Kathalin called out.

“Who comes?”

“’Tis Lady de Lohr,” came a heavily accented Germanic voice. “Will you please admit me, Lady Kathalin?”

De Lohr
. Kathalin knew that Alexander’s parents had arrived so she could only assume that it was his mother. She seriously considered sending the woman away but she knew it would be foolish to do so; it wouldn’t delay or prevent anything. Even if she was to fight back, and perhaps grossly offend Lady de Lohr, that was no guarantee they would back out of the marriage contract. Even if they did, she could only imagine that Jasper would still not allow her to marry Gates and they’d be right back where they started. Many thoughts and many possibilities, rolled through her head, but none of them viable. It all came down to the truth of the matter –

She was trapped.

Her father intended marriage for her regardless of what she wanted, so if she wanted to look at the positive side of the situation, at least she knew Alexander. It would be horrific to be married to someone she did not even know, perhaps an old, smelly man or even a young, foolish heir, someone she could not stand to be around. At least she could stand to be around Alexander.

Perhaps this was the best she could hope for.

Resigned, she climbed off of the windowsill and went to the door. Throwing the old iron bolt, she pulled the door open.

A handsome woman with blue eyes, fair skin, and a pristine white wimple was smiling back at her. “Lady Kathalin?” she asked.

Kathalin nodded. “Aye.”

“I am Lady de Lohr, Alexander’s mother.”

Kathalin stood back and admitted the woman into her chamber. “Please come in.”

Elreda came into the chamber but her attention remained on Kathalin. In fact, she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off her. “Sweet Mary,” she sighed. “You look much as your mother did when she was young. Have you been told that?”

Kathalin shook her head. “Nay, my lady.”

Elreda, in just the short few exchanges they’d had, could see how depressed Kathalin was. Now, the reality of all of the arguing Alexander had been doing against his participation in the marriage now had a face and a name in this lovely young woman. Elreda well understood what it was to have a broken heart, to be forbidden to marry the man you loved, but she also well understood a sense of duty. One had to do what one was told to do, especially when one was a woman. That being the case, it was impossible not to extend some measure of compassion to the girl.

“You look like her a great deal,” she said, forcing a smile. “She was very beautiful in her youth. I have come to extend my welcome to the de Lohr family and to help you prepare for the ceremony. The priest has arrived so the mass will be conducted as soon as you are ready.”

Kathalin’s heart sank at that news. Not that she didn’t know the wedding was coming, eventually, but to realize she was on the cusp of marrying Alexander in a matter of minutes made her nauseous. Still, there was nothing she could do. She couldn’t fight back and she couldn’t run off. For her, it was over.

Her entire life was over.

“Very well,” Kathalin said, looking down at the lavender wool gown she was wearing. It was the garment Gates had purchased for her and even as she gazed at it, she fought off thoughts of him. “I suppose I am ready. Is there something more we must do?”

Elreda could see that the girl was dead in the eyes. No glimmer of hope, happiness, or excitement. A young lady should be thrilled for her wedding, but Lady Kathalin clearly wasn’t. Although Elreda knew why, she would not say so. Some things were better left unspoken. Moreover, there was no reason to acknowledge pain that she could not help in any way. Perhaps it was as Rosamund said; perhaps Kathalin would forget about it, eventually.

Elreda had her doubts.

“Mayhap you will allow me to fix your hair,” Elreda said, trying to sound positive and happy. “You have such lovely hair but it would be nice to dress it. Would you permit me?”

Kathalin had no desire to refuse or protest. She simply lifted her shoulders in a defeated gesture and Elreda took that as an affirmative. If the girl was going to be so apathetic, then Elreda would simply do what needed to be done. Gently, she pushed Kathalin down onto her small bed and went to work.

Elreda found the comb and iron pins on the same table that contained the soap and wash basin. Kathalin’s hair was already in a tight, single braid, so she unbraided the hair and combed it vigorously before braiding it again and wrapping it around Kathalin’s head, creating an elaborate hairstyle of braids that was exquisitely detailed. All the while, Elreda kept stealing glances at Kathalin’s face, thrilled with the perfect beauty and imagining the magnificent grandchildren she would have from this woman. For the mother who had desperately wanted her son to marry, it was difficult not to think such thoughts.

But on the heel of thoughts of grandchildren also came thoughts of Rosamund, wondering how the woman could be so cold and callous towards this child. Surely the disease had something to do with it, but Elreda sensed that there was more to it. She wondered if Rosamund would ever return to the way she was before and if the compassionate woman Elreda had once known would make a resurgence.

For Kathalin’s sake, she hoped so.

When the hair was finished, Elreda moved to inspect the surcoat Kathalin was wearing and noticed that the bottom of it was quite soiled. She asked Kathalin if she had any more dresses that would be appropriate for a wedding and Kathalin pointed to the slender wardrobe. Elreda opened it to find the blue patchwork brocade and the eggshell-colored wool with the fur around the neck and cuffs hanging on pegs inside. She withdrew the pale wool.

“This is a lovely garment,” she said, holding it up. “Will you wear this? It would be better if this was pink or blue for your wedding, but the white will do. Will you put it on, my lady?”

Kathalin simply nodded and Elreda helped her from one garment into the next, tying up the laces in the back of the eggshell wool that cinched up the bodice. All the while, Kathalin ran her hands over it, smoothing it, remembering when Gates had bought it for her.
Gates….
She closed her eyes, seeing his face, remembering when he’d produced the three garments at that tiny inn with no name, having purchased them from a business with a seamstress who sewed for the Countess of Shrewsbury. The dresses had been beautiful and it was then that something warm had begun to brew between her and Gates. Aye, she remembered that night well.

It had been the first night of the rest of her life.

Or so she thought.

Now, she was facing a different life as the mother of her future husband helped her dress for the wedding. Lady de Lohr seemed kind enough, quietly and efficiently helping her with her gown. Her touch was gentle but sure, but Kathalin had been completely silent through most of the process and she was coming to think that perhaps she might need to show some gratitude to the woman she was going to be related to for the rest of her life.

Even though her mood was heavy, and her heart broken, none of that was Lady de Lohr’s fault or even Alexander’s fault. The de Lohrs, through all of this, had not done anything wrong. It had not been these people who had separated her from Gates. Keeping that in mind, she tried to be somewhat polite.

“Thank you for your assistance, my lady,” she said.

Elreda was surprised by the gratitude. She had been fussing over the back of Kathalin’s dress but moved so that she could see Kathalin’s face. She smiled timidly.

“You are very welcome, my lady,” she said. “May I say that I am very happy to have you join our family? Alexander is our eldest son and his two younger sisters are already married. Strange thing that my boys do not have brides yet but my girls were married at a young age.”

Kathalin could already see warmth in the woman, warmth she had hoped to see in her own mother but never did. “How old are your girls?” she asked.

Elreda went back to fussing with the hem of the gown, which seemed to be torn. She was trying to shore it up with what thread was still there. “Beatrix has seen twenty-four years,” she said. “She already has two sons with her husband, who is part of the Cornwall d’Vant family, and Roxanne has seen nineteen years. She is pregnant with her first child.”

It was clear that Elreda was thrilled to speak of her children.
Is it possible that women do love their children so much?
Kathalin thought. She’d often wondered.

“And you said that Alex has a brother?” she asked.

Elreda finished with the hem of the gown and let it fall to the floor. “Baxter is twenty years and two,” she said. “He was in France with his brother at Poitiers, although we have not yet seen him returned. He serves de Montacute now and it is possible he has been kept with the earl. Ah, well… I am sure we shall see my boy very soon.”

Kathalin couldn’t help but be fascinated by a mother who should love her children so. “Do you miss your children, then?”

Elreda heard the wistfulness in Kathalin’s tone and it nearly broke her heart, for she knew that the girl had known none of that from her own mother. Reaching out, she grasped Kathalin by both arms in a comforting, motherly gesture.

“I miss them all very much when they are away from me,” she said, “and I take great comfort with the fact that you and Alexander will come to live with us at Lioncross Abbey after the wedding. It is a very big place and I am sure you will be quite happy there. I look forward to spending time with you and coming to know you, Lady Kathalin. You will be most welcome in our family.”

Kathalin had never felt so wanted in her entire life and it was nearly too much to take. From parents who rejected her to people she didn’t even know welcoming her, it was overwhelming. Confused, she nodded her head but just as swiftly burst into quiet tears. She simply couldn’t help it. So much about this situation was agonizing, now with a future mother-in-law who spoke of her excitement for having Kathalin join her family. It was a wonderful thing to hear but it meant nothing to her considering Gates would not be part of that family. According to Alexander, he wasn’t even allowed to visit. Her hand flew to her face to quickly wipe away the tears.

“Forgive me, my lady,” she said. “You are so kind. I… I am simply… this day has been quite taxing.”