Lady Trent (19 page)

“There has been a sudden request for my
presence in Arlington. I had considered taking you along. It’s a
beautiful city, and the eldest Lady Arlington is a delight to keep
company with. She is now ninety years of age, and was not able to
come for the wedding. She did send her kind regards.”

“She has invited me with a formal invitation
to visit with her, even at my own request.”

“I’m afraid now would not be the best time.
Word has been sent that a small army has landed there to confront
the lady’s son, who is now the duke of Arlington, and that it may
not be in the emperor’s favor.”

“An army,” she repeated, turning toward him.
“From where?”

“Roark,” he regretfully returned.

“Roark. Isn’t that—“

His nod stopped her. She brought her steps to
an immediate stop. “I’m yet to fully understand the extent of it,”
he admitted.

“You needn’t go,” she said, recalling the
former king of Roark whose head Jacob had brought back into New
Ebony. “King Alfred could very well be setting a trap in order to
avenge his brother.”

He fell silent as if to think it over. But
surely he already had. They began walking again, even slower now
than before.

“Then you have heard.”

“Well, it is written in some of our books,
even.” She tilted her head to the side. “Is it true?”

“Yes,” he said as if dreading the memory of
it. “I beheaded the former king in favor of the emperor…to prove a
point, even, that we will not tolerate conflict of any kind.
According to Duke Arlington, these men are not here on the king’s
behalf, but on ours.”

“How can you be sure?”

He barely shook his head. “I can’t…not until
I have seen and heard so for myself. This small army consists of
advocates and such, although some guards may be present, supposedly
on behalf of Prince Fredrick, the king’s youngest brother and their
bloodline’s final candidate for the throne. If only all of these
could be more like their father. He was a gallant man.”

“Will you be safe?”

“If it is a plot, Duke Arlington is at fault.
There are ways to indicate such things in secret. The message was
written by his hand, and arrived by the hands of one of his own. It
contains no evidence that he has been bribed or threatened into
luring me into the city.”

They began to walk in silence.

“When will you leave?” She eventually
asked.

“Within the hour.” He paused before saying,
“Don’t worry. I will be well. I am certain Duke Arlington would not
betray me. I will travel with my guards, and have others stationed
secretly in the case they are needed.”

“But your illness…what if—“

“My physician will also join me…as is
customary.”

“And Holly?” It came out before she’d even
realized the thought.

He shook his head gently. “No.”

“The duke of Arlington,” she found herself
recalling, quickly changing the subject. She did not want to look
like an overly jealous fool. But she had thought of Miss Holly a
lot, and had already come to the conclusion that she and Jacob had
at one time been lovers.

“Is he not the brother, then, of your first
wife, Isabelle?”

He paused a moment before saying, “he is”

“And you and he have been at peace.”

“Ah, yes, and I cannot think of him betraying
or misleading me. He and I have always gotten along.”

“I have heard of instances where a man will
wed a younger sister if by chance the elder does not survive…that
is in the case of an arranged marriage. It’s no secret they are
arranged mainly for political purposes. Were there no other
sisters? Beside Isabelle?”

“One, yes. She was expected to take
Isabelle’s place following her death. Arlington produces a fine
army. Combined with mine through matrimony, well, the emperor would
be safe for certain, even in the case the nobles suddenly raised up
against him. But it became rumored about that she had defiled
herself, not that it is held against her. She did admit to this.
So, then, she has become a sort of refuge for other men of
nobility. Not that she has become an object of scorn. But she is no
longer pursued, so to speak, for the sake of marriage.”

Rachel had heard of such women being used for
gratification, even in the place of a wife.

Another space of silence fell before she
reasoned, “I do wish you would reconsider this invitation.”

“Don’t worry for me,” he peacefully ordered.
“I am well able to fend for myself, even if I am of age. I will
return.”

She believed him, for she knew there was
strength in him, not just inner, but the few times she’d witnessed
his naked arms and torso for herself…he was not a weak man. She’d
watched him at sword’s play with other nobles and with members of
the guard. He always bested his opponent. She had no trouble at all
imagining him wielding his sword in battle, or even of using it to
behead a man, although she imagined he would have to be very angry
to do such a thing. But she could not actually imagine him becoming
so angry as that.

“I know,” she quietly replied, and he
stopped, taking her arm and turning her about to face him.

“I will be fine,” he assured, touching a palm
to her cheek. He smoothed her hair back before lowering his hand.
“I was saying before that I have sensed you are troubled…and I take
the blame. I imagine you sense my desire for you, how I want you in
my bed. I think it must make you uneasy.”

She had actually become quite uneasy with her
own feelings, but kept it to herself.

“You must be terribly disappointed,” she told
him.

“In you, no, not at all. I keep my distance
at times not only for my sake but yours as well. I do not want to
do or say anything out of the way, or even oppress you with
this—this energy, so to speak. But it has turned into a terrible
tension. The distance and the silence are often unbearable, but
can’t always be evaded. I attempt to avoid these needs being
detected, hoping to eliminate any pressure they may cause you. I am
a man of my word. In the beginning I made a promise…you could
remain virtuous. I cannot be the one to instigate otherwise.”

“You truly think you will die,” she
observed.

“Men of my line do not live to see an old
age. It’s no secret. The longest to survive was the age of
fifty-eight, and that was many centuries ago. My father had just
turned fifty-two when he passed away, the very day after. You see
how close I am to that. I may be given two more years, but they
pass quickly. Then I will be at risk. It happens so suddenly. You
needn’t lose your virtue. I told you so, and I meant it. If you
sense my desire just know I am a man of my word.”

“I know you are.”

“And I can contain myself,” he added. “With
you, it has merely taken more adjustment than I had
anticipated.”

“I do not feel pressured at all,” she told
him, and found it difficult to look him straight in the eye, for
she had entertained equal aspirations and her imagination had
produced the most sensual images.

He raised a hand, smoothing it down her hair.
“Surely you have felt such a thing before, Rachel,” he said, which
proved he had, indeed, discerned it.

She raised her eyes to meet his. “As peculiar
as this may sound to you, no. No, I have not. Not like this.”

Slowly but surely a grin touched his lips. “I
think that is remarkable,” he said.

“I find it most disturbing,” she admitted.
“Even I have been tempted to do away with our agreement.”

“I am proud to be the first to rouse such
desire in you. I find it hard to believe, but believable. You would
not lie to me.”

“I imagine there are others who have not
desired such an intimate encounter with a man, especially amongst
those in the same position as me…or as I was, as I vowed to be.
Sister Camille, perhaps, even.”

He almost laughed. She cocked her head to the
side.

“She is virtuous, no doubt, but not ignorant
when it comes to such things.”

“No?”

“Sister Camille and I grew up together, in a
sense, although she is several years older than I. We were raised
here together in the palace. You see, she was an orphan, and became
a handmaiden for my mother. But she was more treated as a daughter,
which my mother had not produced. Even aside from spiritual
condolences, in the natural she is like a sister to me. She has
loved and lost, but virtuous she has remained.”

“Who?” She curiously inquired. “Whom did she
love?”

“He has been dead many years now.” He put a
finger to her chin, urging her to look up at him. “I love you,
Rachel,” he said with such sincerity in his eyes. “That is all that
matters. We had our agreement beforehand, and I have no regrets.
You must believe that. The desire to make love when reacted upon
afterward bring about particular results, some pleasant others not.
It may instill an even deeper need to do so again, it may make it
tolerable to do without again, or it may cause resentment. I would
not have you awaken one morning regretting something that could
have been avoided, and even resenting me.”

“There are women who are available to you,”
she found herself saying, even thinking about the younger
sister.

“I am no longer a foolish and selfish young
man. I’m soon to be fifty years of age. I can be faithful, even to
that extent.”

She parted her lips to speak, and then put
them together again, not sure if she should say what came to mind
or not, or how to even say it, or even if she meant it.

“What is it?” He urged. “There is something
you want to say.”

She tried to be straightforward and strong
and confident. “I…I would not hold it against you.” She forced the
words from her mouth as if they imposed the greatest threat of
all.

She had already imagined this, he falling
into the arms of some other woman, not only Holly and other of the
young maidens who tended to the palace and its operation, but the
woman with no face. She had already gone thru feelings of jealousy
and resentment that such images aroused, even so far as to imagine
Zaria making love to him. Yes, she took these feelings to the
altar…out of guilt. For she had decided; if he were to stray and
she knew of it…surely that would evoke bitterness in her toward him
and curb her desires altogether. How horrible of her to conclude
such things.

He was very serious when he asked, “Will not
hold what against me?” But she felt he knew exactly what she meant.
Still, she wanted to make it clear to him. It was not entirely fair
of him to do without intimacy because of her refusal to yield.

Her brows came together as she sought for the
perfect words to say. “If you are tempted,” she managed, “and find
solace,” she reasoned, and no longer avoided his eyes as she
finished, “in the arms of another woman…I will not hold it against
you. I only ask that we be honest with one another. That is
all.”

He studied her a very long time, very
seriously, until one of the guards off in the distance called out,
motioning to him with the wave of an arm. It was time for him to
go.

Saying goodbye was not as settling as in
times past. It seemed her words had put even more distance between
them. In silence they strolled back toward the guards, and she
walked in quietness while he spoke with them. Not long after she
watched him depart for his journey to Arlington, and then loathed
her way to her chamber where she, for the first time in her life,
got purposely intoxicated.

******

The next morning, she awakened with a
terrible headache. Tilly tried to feed her. She refused. Roselyn
did nothing but ogle her from across the room, and Zaria….well,
hers was a different story. She merely sensed that Rachel missed
her husband and feared that the night away from home had drawn him
into the arms of another woman.

“You needn’t worry,” she soothed, sitting
beside her on the bed. She toyed with a lock of mangled hair,
afterward insisting upon helping her dress for the day.

“I don’t feel much like getting out of this
bed,” Rachel told her.

“That isn’t much like you.”

“No,” she agreed.

Zaria put an arm around her shoulders and
squeezed, sympathizing with her although having not a clue what was
wrong with her. So far as she or anyone else knew, she and Jacob
had consummated their vows. Rachel felt an urge to confide in her,
but bit her tongue from doing so.

“You have made him very happy,” she told her.
“Happier than ever. He even whistles along the way, and pays no
mind to the maidens in the palace. And some of them do desire his
attention. You, milady, are the apple of his eye. He shall not
stray, especially if you please him and you do it well.” She smiled
slyly. Rachel inhaled a deep disturbed breath. “Oh, the things you
say, Zaria.”

“Tis the truth I speak, milady. Please him
well, and when he is away from you, you shall know that he is
recalling nothing as he lies in some strange bed besides your
lovemaking.”

She considered the probable truth behind
Zaria’s words. Little did anyone know she had not pleased her
husband at all. At times she desperately longed to.

“I suppose I
should
rise from this
bed.”

“You must,” Zaria told her. “You have a
guest.”

She sat upright and alert. “Who?”

“Sir Troy of Orland Manor.”

“Sir Troy,” she repeated, and then again,
“Sir Troy,” this time more keenly than the first. After this she
was quick to ready herself, thinking of Orland and a reason for Sir
Troy’s visit. Within an hour she was dressed to meet him. Her
guards followed along with her as she made her way from one
corridor to another until coming upon the summit room where she’d
instructed Percival to have him await her.

He was sitting at the table when she entered,
and stood quickly to his feet, bowing his head so slightly at the
sight of her. Back straight, she strolled toward him.