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Authors: Emily Murdoch

Love Letters (7 page)

BOOK: Love Letters
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Past
are
his
woes
,
he
has
won
through
his
perils
,

He
lives
in
plenty
,
no
pleasure
he
lacks
;

Nor
horses
nor
goods
nor
gold
of
the
mead
-
hall
;

All
the
wealth
of
earls
upon
earth

Belongs
to
my
lord
,
he
lacks
but
thee
.

 

Chapter Ten

 

The day had dawned bright and full of bird song, but there were two people that had barely slept. Dark circles ringed their eyes, and their snatched sleep had been filled with tormenting dreams and faces that they did not choose to recognise.

Catheryn and Selwyn did not look their best that morning as the household came together to break their fast.

“My word, Catheryn,” said her mother. “You do not look well at all.”

“I had trouble sleeping,” Catheryn replied firmly. “I am quite well, thank you my lady mother.”

Hilda looked as if she wanted to enquire further, but after a small shake of his head from her husband, she returned to her meal, turning her fretful mind instead to the coolness of the morning.

As soon as it was polite to do so, Catheryn left the room. She had studiously ignored Selwyn, who merely strode into the room to pick up some bread, and then left almost immediately. In a way, she was glad of it. Catheryn needed to think. She needed to ponder over exactly what was going on – not only in the world, but in her own heart.

It was a beautiful day, and Catheryn made her way to her favourite field. Dropping down, she scattered the three love notes that she had received into her lap, her green dress spread over her crossed legs.

They were all so beautiful. They spoke of love, love from a distance, love without that surety that surely all love deserved.

Catheryn picked up the last one, the one that Selwyn had so secretively and mysteriously thrust into her hand that previous night.

Past
are
his
woes
,
he
has
won
through
his
perils
,

He
lives
in
plenty
,
no
pleasure
he
lacks
;

Nor
horses
nor
goods
nor
gold
of
the
mead
-
hall
;

All
the
wealth
of
earls
upon
earth

Belongs
to
my
lord
,
he
lacks
but
thee
.

Catheryn blinked. What was it that Selwyn had said to her with such passion, in a voice that had trembled when he spoke?

“He will lack nothing. At this very moment, he lacks but thee.”

Her eyes fell onto the piece of parchment.
He
lacks
but
thee
.

And then realisation, cold, hard, painful realisation hit her, right in her ribs.

Selwyn.

It couldn’t be.

How could it be Selwyn? He was the one that had been helping her discover who was writing them – the servant told her that it was a thane! But Catheryn thought once again about the thanes, and knew in her heart that none of them could have understood, let alone copied out, such beautiful words.

It was always Selwyn who had been making her laugh, and he whose company she had sought out. Even during her three days at the royal court, she was not interested in their finery, or the potential rank that she could gain from being there. No; Catheryn had only thought about one man.

Selwyn.

Which is ridiculous, Catheryn mused, allowing herself to fall back and luxuriate in the green grass. Selwyn’s only a steward. He’s only…

Handsome. Almost hypnotic in the way that he catches her attention. And whenever she was near him, there was that – that feeling that she was not alone. Of course, technically every time she was with anyone she did not feel alone, but with Selwyn she didn’t feel lonely.

“Catheryn?”

Without looking, she knew exactly who that was.

“Come and sit with me, Selwyn,” she called, not bothering to open her eyes.

Catheryn felt, rather than saw, him sit down beside her. Selwyn was careful to leave about three fingers widths between them – if he was going to have to speak, he needed to make sure that his tongue would obey him.

“Catheryn, I need to talk to you.”

“You do?” Catheryn said, nonchalantly, finally opening her eyes and sitting upright. Selwyn swallowed. He could not believe that she did not realise how stunning she looked, sitting there looking at him with a hint of a smile dancing across her face, and golden sun pouring down onto her, making her glitter like a diamond.

“Yes,” he said, with a swallow. “About those notes.”

“What, these?” Catheryn picked them out of her lap and carelessly dropped them in front of Selwyn. “I’m not interested anymore. I…”

Catheryn was fully intending to reveal him – to shock him into admitting his undying love for her. But looking across at him, at the seemingly nervous state that he was in, it happened.

Catheryn fell in love with him.

And she realised that she had not even realised that she had already been falling, falling since she had first received the note. Suddenly, everything that Selwyn did
mattered
so much more than what anyone else did. Catheryn trusted him, and he made her smile and…it felt like madness, and happiness, and a sharp pain, all at the same time.

“Catheryn, I have something to confess.”

Catheryn suddenly realised that Selwyn had said something, but she couldn’t remember exactly what it was.

“Selwyn?”

Selwyn wrung his hands together. He had spent all night preparing for this moment, and yet still he did not feel ready. He was a fool, a complete fool. As they had stood outside last night, he had realised that the feelings he had cultivated for Catheryn – dislike, and almost fear – had totally gone. From the first day that they had talked, really talked, Selwyn had realised that everything that he thought he knew about Catheryn was completely wrong.

Catheryn was bright. She was clever, and caring. There was talk amongst the servants already about how she had found a healer for Mildred who was due to bear her child any day now. Catheryn didn’t just see joy everywhere, she looked for it, and when she couldn’t find it, she created some.

Selwyn loved her more than he dreamed possible. He now had a thundering in his gut that meant he wanted to protect her from everything, anything that could harm her. How on earth could he have been so stupid as to begin this charade?

Because Selwyn knew that he would never be able to tell Catheryn how he felt about her until she knew the truth: that he had started writing the love notes in an attempt to belittle her.

Selwyn cursed himself at the very thought. But it must be told. Catheryn must know the truth.

“I wrote the letters,” he blurted out.

There was silence. Catheryn had not expected his confession to be so, well, blunt and to the point. Where was the declaration of love everlasting?

“You…you wrote them.” She eventually said, realising that he was not about to say anything until she had spoken. He was staring at her with slightly wild eyes, and there was no smile on his face.

Selwyn sighed, and spoke quickly. “Please know, before I say anything else, that I regret it immensely.”

Catheryn’s heart sunk. Of course – this was exactly how she should have expected it to happen. Selwyn was happy to send her notes speaking of love before he’d even spoken to her, but now they had spent so much time together, he was clearly having second thoughts. He wanted to make sure that she wasn’t expecting a proposal any time soon, and that he regretted the illusion of love that he had created.

“Do not concern yourself,” Catheryn said dully, rising to her feet. “I do not blame you. You could not have known me at the time. You owe me nothing.”

Selwyn watched, confused, as the woman that he loved started walking away from him.

“Catheryn!” He shouted, getting up to follow her. She did not turn around, and so he was obliged to run to catch up with her.

Selwyn caught hold of her arm, and spun her around so that she had no choice but to face him. “Catheryn, please listen to me.”

To his utter surprise, Catheryn’s eyes were bright with tears.

“Catheryn,” he said in confused wonder. “I haven’t even confessed yet! You cannot…why are you crying?”

Catheryn sniffed angrily and brushed away her tears. “I am not crying! There is dirt in my eye. And what are you talking about – you have already said that you regret sending me those notes. What more is there to say?”

Selwyn sighed, but did not relinquish his hold on her arm. He held it so tightly he could almost feel her pulse.

“So much more,” he said softly. “But you have to remember that I did not know you then. I thought…”

Catheryn looked at him. Selwyn was always so certain of himself, so secure in what he was about to say. This new Selwyn was just as endearing, but in a way it frightened her.

“I didn’t write those letters because I cared about you – at least, that’s not how it started out!” Selwyn gabbled, hoping to get the majority of it said before Catheryn retaliated and broke the heart that he had only recently discovered that he had. “I just wanted to play another joke, like when we were children. I wanted to make you feel silly, and remind you what it was to be friends again. I never seriously considered how you might feel. And so I sent you those notes to…to…”

“To belittle me,” Catheryn said flatly, finally disentangling her arm from his grip. “To embarrass me? To destroy me?”

“No!” Selwyn said desperately. “No, nothing so cruel, if I had known you then – ”

“But you didn’t,” Catheryn said with an air of finality that destroyed Selwyn’s every hope that this conversation would end well. “You didn’t know me, and you didn’t bother to get to know me, and you assumed. You thought that you knew me, and based on that, you decided to mock me.”

Selwyn laughed, distraught. “It sounds terrible when you say it in that way, but – ”

“Yes.” Catheryn took a step backwards. “It does sound terrible.”

“I love you!” cried Selwyn, throwing all caution to the winds, knowing that there was no chance now anyway of redeeming himself in her eyes.

“Love?” Catheryn rolled her eyes in the way that had become so endearing to him. “You know, I thought…but I was wrong, evidently, so terribly wrong!”

“What did you think?” Selwyn said urgently.

“It is of no consequence. I was wrong.” Catheryn turned away from him, but Selwyn reached out to stop her.

“Catheryn – ”

“But you know what?” Catheryn allowed herself to be turned around, but did not allow Selwyn to say anything. “If you really had found yourself…you know, falling in love with me, the least you could have done would have been to do something honourable about it. Because
nothing
,” she said with emphasis that dripped anger and sadness, “nothing you have done in this has been honourable.”

Catheryn walked away, and Selwyn did not have the heart to prevent her. He had lost her; before he even had her, he had lost her.

 

Chapter Eleven

 

That evening meal was a rather muted affair. Ælfgard and Hilda had not received any news from the royal court, which was generally considered to mean that they had not made any sort of impression. And, as Catheryn heard Eorwine mutter when she thought no one could hear her, it was surely better to make a bad impression than none at all.

Catheryn ate in silence. Everything inside her ached, and she could almost see the pain pouring out of her. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have thought that Selwyn cared about her at all?

The man that had professed his love while confessing that he thought she was a joke had not joined them that evening. The Great Hall felt empty without him, although Catheryn was trying not to notice.

“My lord?”

Every head turned to see who had spoken so softly, and yet with such force. Necks craned to get a better view, and Hilda stood up to see past Deorwine, whose mouth had fallen open.

It was Selwyn. He was wearing what could only be described as ceremonial clothes. His tunic was fastened with a gold brooch, intricately woven, and his cloth was a rich royal blue.

He stood in the doorway, hovering as if nervous about his reception.

Ælfgard recovered first.

“Come in, Selwyn,” he said jovially, gesturing that those that had stood should seat themselves.

Catheryn watched as the man who had always been so confident around her shuffled towards them, nervously. What on earth was he doing?

“My lord,” Selwyn said, his voice ringing clearly throughout the Great Hall, “I would speak with you, with these people as witnesses.”

The hush that had fallen after Ælfgard had beckoned him in was lost as mutterings and whispers surged around the room.

Catheryn could not take her eyes off the man she was trying not to be impressed by.

Ælfgard did not seem quite sure of what to do with himself. As much as he adored the royal court, he was not accustomed himself to such a high level of formality at his table. But he was not one to lose honour by not respecting the customs.

“Speak, Selwyn,” he eventually said. “I offer these people, my servants, thanes, and family, as witnesses to your words and to your honour.”

Selwyn nodded quickly, and stepped forward once more. Although his face concentrated on his lord, no one could miss the nervous glances that continuously worked their way to Catheryn.

“My lord master,” said Selwyn formally, bowing low. “I wish to speak to you on the subject of my marriage.”

Catheryn’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t be – he would never, not in front of everyone – could he?

“Speak on, my loyal steward,” Hilda cut in, noticing that this topic was probably beyond her husband’s comfort. “We shall hear you, and bear witness.”

Selwyn swallowed. From the moment that Catheryn had walked away from him, he knew that this moment would come, and he did not want to wait for several days to garner his courage to him. The sooner he formally, with honour, made his intentions known, the sooner he would be dismissed from this household – and could begin rebuilding his life in another place. Not forgetting; he could never forget. But he would have to move on.

“My lord master, you are aware that as your steward, it is just as much to your interests as to mine which woman I choose to be my bride,” Selwyn began. “But I think it all the more important for honour to be kept to in this occasion, because my intended bride is under your protection.”

Catheryn drew in a hasty breath to prepare herself for his next words, but nothing could ready her for his next proclamation.

“It is your daughter, my lady Catheryn.”

Catheryn let out her breath, but she was not the only one to be astounded by the sentence that Selwyn had just uttered.

“Treachery!” shouted Deorwine, jumping to his feet and unsheathing his sword. “Base deception, within the very heart of the home you have been given! My lord – ”

“That will do, Deorwine,” Ælfgard said firmly.

Deorwine, however, was not finished. “But my lord – ”

“Enough,” Ælfgard intoned. “And put away your sword. You dishonour my table by inviting battle here.”

Deorwine flushed with shame, but sat down sullenly, sheathing his blade.

Selwyn stared at his lord, desperate for any sign that he would be allowed to continue.

Ælfgard looked at his steward; a good man, a man that he had known for five years. Selwyn had been trusted, and Ælfgard had rewarded that trust amply.

“Continue, my steward,” he said finally.

There were more mutterings now, but none of them were as jovial and intrigued as before. Most of them came from the thanes, and they were not friendly.

But Catheryn almost didn’t hear them. She couldn’t wait for Selwyn to continue.

“My lord master,” Selwyn said in a strong resounding voice, “I love your daughter Catheryn. She is wise, and beautiful, and would make any man a wife that he would be proud to call his own.”

Hilda was beginning to smile at this, and turned to her daughter to see her reaction. It was clear on her face that although she appreciated the courting of Catheryn, she was watching to see exactly how she would rebuff the elegant young suitor.

Catheryn could barely breathe, let alone think. With every ounce of loyalty and honour, Selwyn was doing exactly what any man should do if he wants to win the hand of his beloved; he was being open and honest to all around them about his feelings.

“I do not deserve her,” Selwyn continued, his eyes turning to Catheryn, “not only because I am shallow, and weak…but because no one deserves her. She is without peer, and I can only hope that, if she rejects me, that she only aligns herself with a man that can work tirelessly to, one day, be worthy of her.”

No one spoke. Within Catheryn, a fight was struggling. She could not believe what he had just done. She was so proud of him, so amazed at his honesty and bravery in declaring his love for her so publically. And yet…could she ever trust him?

“Catheryn,” Selwyn addressed her personally now, taking a step forward. Deorwine rose again, his right hand wandering to his sword, but Ælfgard shook his head decidedly.

“Catheryn, I know that nothing I can say can make amends for what I have done.”

At these words, the smile on Ælfgard’s face disappeared.

But Catheryn was not looking at her father. She was looking at the man that she was in love with.

“But I promise; I could never have known how much damage it would cause, and how deeply and irrevocably I would fall in love with you. And I promise, even if you want me to leave here and never return, you will always be for me the epitome of perfection. And I ask your honourable father,” and with this his gaze returned to Ælfgard, “to allow me the continuation of my suit.”

All eyes that were fixed on Selwyn moved quickly over to their lord. Ælfgard brought a hand to his chin, and stroked his thinning beard. He looked at the young man, clearly besotted with his daughter. His daughter, the heiress to his entire fortune. Ælfgard’s eyes widened as he saw his daughter.

Catheryn’s eyes were full of tears – but they were clearly not tears of sadness. The emotion that was pouring down her face was not hatred, or fear, or even loathing, which Ælfgard had almost expected to see painted across his young daughter’s face. It was love: love of a man that could never hope to marry so high above his station.

Ælfgard rose. Silence fell as the household waited for Selwyn to be expelled from the house, Deorwine with a smile on his face.

“My loyal steward, Selwyn, son of Harold,” Ælfgard said, keeping to the traditional reply that a father would give as a response to a man who had begged for the hand of his daughter. “I have heard your speech, and so have our witnesses. They can bear testament to your words, and to the answer I give to you.”

Catheryn wanted to speak, to intervene, but there was nothing she could say.

Selwyn’s mouth was dry.

“I have heard of your love for my daughter, our lady Catheryn,” Ælfgard continued, “and now I call for a change in our traditions.”

He took a deep breath.

“I call for my daughter, the lady Catheryn, daughter of Ælfgard, to speak of her choice.”

Hushed voices once again began to speak. In the majority of cases, women of Catheryn’s rank did not typically get a chance to make their own choice about their husband. That was the way that it had been with Hilda and Ælfgard – he had made his speech to her parents, and her father had decided on the spot that he was acceptable for her. They had been married within the fortnight, and Hilda had not been considered to possess an opinion, let alone asked for it.

Catheryn rose.

“I know, for our people, it is not usual for someone like me to speak,” she said, her voice quavering. Never before had so many people listened to her before, and this was probably one of the most important speeches she would ever make. The sheer number of faces staring at her made her swallow nervously, but she continued.

“I…I think it is important that…”

Catheryn swallowed again. Her words seemed to be sticking in her throat. She was looking down at her hands, but then she looked up. She saw Selwyn.

His eyes were transfixed on her, and they were full of despair.

“Those notes that you wrote for me were wonderful,” Catheryn said, with half a smile. “But why you wrote them was terrible. It broke me, Selwyn. And I need to know that you won’t do anything like that again.”

Selwyn gave out a noise that sounded like a laugh and a sob at the same time. Striding across the Great Hall, before Catheryn could say anything else, he was in front of her. Pulling Catheryn into his arms, Selwyn lowered his mouth to hers.

It was like fire, and ice, and wind, and sunshine. It was all of them and none of them. Catheryn lost all sense of her surroundings as her senses centred on one man, and one kiss.

When they broke apart, it was with smiles, and with laughter.

“I think,” Ælfgard’s voice broke over them, “that my daughter’s choice is clear. Selwyn: if she gives it to you, you may have my daughter’s hand in marriage.”

Selwyn looked down at the woman that he had not yet released from his loving arms.

“Will you?” He whispered. “Will you accept me?”

“Selwyn,” Catheryn replied. “From now on, you do not lack me.”

BOOK: Love Letters
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