Secret Heart (22 page)

“
I think
I had some naive idea that we’d all three go on riding and talking
and laughing together for the rest of our lives. I confess, I
wasn’t thinking very clearly about what marriage meant. I had been
concerned lest my father should arrange a match for me with one of
his elderly, widowed friends, and I’d feel obliged to accept. So, I
agreed to marry Roarke.”

“
Didn’t
you
want
to marry
him?” Jenia asked, unable to understand such a point of view. But
she immediately realized that what Marjorie was describing wasn’t
so very terrible. It was the choice any young noblewoman would have
made, if she were given a choice. A young and vigorous husband was
infinitely preferable to an elderly spouse who would most likely
need a nurse, rather than a wife and mother to his
children.

“
I
thought I did,” Marjorie answered Jenia’s question. “In addition to
being handsome, Roarke was kind and funny and, as I said, my father
and brother were both eager for us to marry. Shortly after the
Solstice celebrations ended, Roarke and Garit returned here to
Calean to prepare for their knighting ceremonies. A month or so
later, Lord Oliver arrived at Kinath to settle the terms of the
marriage contract.”

“
Roarke
has told me much of this,” Jenia said. “What I do not understand is
how you could betray his love.”

“
I never
thought of it as betrayal until Roarke used that term to his father
during their quarrel. Roarke had declared his love for me, but I
never said I loved him. I simply agreed to marry him, and I laid
down two provisions. His father must approve of the match and both
of our fathers must be satisfied with the contract their clerks
drew up. I didn’t know Roarke well enough to understand that he
perceived my acquiescence as a solemn vow.”

“
What
happened?” Jenia demanded. “Why did you change your mind?” She
could not make sense of what she was hearing, could not comprehend
how any woman in her right mind didn’t love Roarke. Jenia had loved
him almost from the first moment of meeting him. Increasing
familiarity with him, with his decency and sense of honor, had only
made her love him more.

“
On the
day Oliver arrived at Kinath, I took one look at him and I could
think of no other man. I loved him then, and my love only grows
with each day we are together,” Marjorie said quietly, not knowing
how closely her words echoed Jenia’s thoughts about
Roarke.

“
The most
wonderful, most amazing hour of my life occurred a few days later,
when Oliver declared his love for me and said my father had granted
permission for us to marry. Oliver had been a widower for years and
he was lonely. His marriage to Roarke’s mother had been arranged by
their families, though they did become fond of each other, and he
grieved for a long time after she died. I think he was ready to be
happy, ready for love.

“
He does
love me, Jenia, as fully and devotedly as I love him. Our only
sadness is the hurt we inflicted on Roarke. I had hoped Garit would
be more understanding, but he was shocked by how quickly I had
married Oliver. He saw my action as that of a fickle woman
switching her affections to an older, more powerful, far more
wealthy man. Being Garit, he maintained his loyalty to Roarke, whom
he considered the wronged party. Garit quarreled with our father
for approving of my marriage to Oliver after Roarke had asked for
me first, and he told me I was no longer his sister. His rejection
nearly broke my heart.

“
I dared
to hope that time would soften his anger, and Roarke’s, too. But
six years have passed and I see no change in either man. The
scandal Oliver and I created has long ago died, killed by his open
devotion to me, and mine for him. We are accepted here at court.
Only Roarke and Garit continue to shun us.”

Marjorie
fell silent, her gaze fixed on Jenia’s face, until Jenia was
compelled to remark upon what she had heard.

“
How do
you imagine that I can help to repair the damage you inflicted on
two families?” she asked. “Don’t misunderstand me, Marjorie. If I
can help, I will, for several reasons. First, because I suspect
that Chantal cherished some similar idea. She did mention to me
once that Garit sorely missed his father and his sister, though she
didn’t explain why he was estranged from his family. Perhaps she
didn’t know all the details. It’s entirely possible that when she
and Garit were able to steal a bit of time alone together, they
chose to speak of other subjects.”

“
Very
likely,” Marjorie said with a knowing smile.

“
If
Chantal had lived,” Jenia said, “if she and Garit had wed, I
believe she’d have come to you to discuss this unhappy situation
and try to resolve it.

“
Sometimes,” she mused, “I wonder if I survived so I could
complete Chantal’s work here on earth.”

“
It’s a
noble aspiration,” Marjorie said. “Justice achieved and restoration
of a broken family seem to me two fine ways to honor your cousin’s
memory. You said you have several reasons for helping me. What are
the others?”

“
My
second reason,” Jenia said, “is I owe Roarke and Garit so much that
I can never adequately repay either of them. From the little
they’ve said on the subject, I think they are as unhappy as you
about the rift. What about Lord Oliver? Is he as disturbed as you,
and as eager to mend what’s wrong?”

“
Yes,
though he doesn’t speak of it often. I know he did feel guilty at
first over loving me. What other reasons do you have, Jenia?” she
persisted.

“
Just two
more. I like you, Marjorie. In spite of what you did, I cannot
believe you chose Oliver over Roarke with any malicious intent. I
spent half a year in a dungeon, dealing with men whose entire
purpose was malice. I sense no malice at all in you. You were young
and foolish and you fell headlong into love. Few women would fault
you for that.”

“
Thank
you.” Marjorie beamed a slightly teary smile at Jenia. “And your
last reason?”

“
I want
Roarke to be happy.”

“
You love
him.”

“
Yes.”
Jenia met Marjorie’s gaze without embarrassment, knowing that of
all the people in the world to whom she might have confessed her
feelings, Marjorie would understand.

“
I am so
glad. You are just the woman to make Roarke happy,” Marjorie said.
“Your sense of honor is as strong as his, and after what you did
today there can be no doubt that you will keep any promises you
make.”

“
Thank
you.” Jenia reached out both her hands and Marjorie took them. “If
we can think of a way to convince Roarke to make peace with his
father, then I’m sure Garit will accept your marriage, too. But
first, I must finish what I have begun. I must find the person
responsible for Chantal’s death and see that person
punished.”

“
I will
help in any way I can,” Marjorie said.

“
Thank
you for not telling me to leave it to the men,” Jenia exclaimed
between laughter and tears.

The guard
posted at Lady Marjorie’s door recognized Roarke and let him pass
without question. Roarke didn’t bother to knock; he just opened the
door and walked into the room on silent feet.

He found Jenia sitting on the bed in a close
embrace with Marjorie. The two of them were in tears. Roarke
stared, not quite believing the scene before him.

“
What’s
going on here?” he demanded, his harsh voice immediately separating
the women.

“
Do come
in,” Marjorie said with a giggle that ended abruptly when she saw
his expression. She rose to face him, hands stiff at her sides and
her chin high in a pose he had once known well. Marjorie had stood
in exactly the same way six years ago while she told him she had
married his father.

“
Roarke.”
Jenia scrambled off the bed and bent to locate her shoes. Her
unbound hair swung around her upper body like a silken, red-brown
veil.

Only then
did Roarke notice that under a tightly wrapped shawl she was
wearing her shift and nothing else. He was treated to a glimpse of
her rounded hips and thighs beneath the fine linen. The sight was a
tempting reminder of the day when he’d found her. As Jenia pulled
up the shift to scuffle her feet into her green silk court shoes,
he saw her slender calves and ankles. He had not forgotten how
nicely made Jenia was and this fresh view of her sweetly curved
legs sent a lightning bolt of heat into his heart. Not to mention,
into more obvious parts of his body.

Aware that Marjorie was watching him with her
eyebrows raised in amusement, he folded his arms across his chest
and frowned, hoping thus to divert her attention from where it was
presently resting.

“
I wish
to speak with Lady Jenia,” he announced.

“
Here she
is,” Marjorie told him with a wave of one hand in Jenia’s
direction, as if he wasn’t already painfully aware of
her.

“
Alone,”
Roarke said, deepening his frown.

“
Roarke,
don’t be rude,” Jenia admonished. “Marjorie has been most kind to
me. I have rested and eaten, and I feel greatly refreshed. In fact,
I was about to go in search of you. We need to make
plans.”

“
Do
we?”

“
Yes. And
I need to speak with Garit. Do you know where he is?”

“
Garit
has just received a packet of letters from Kantia. He will be busy
for some time, reading them and dictating any urgent replies to his
secretary.”

“
How is
my brother?” Marjorie asked. “I know today was difficult for
him.”

“
I wasn’t
aware that you cared,” Roarke began, putting heavy sarcasm into the
words. Abruptly, he broke off what else he was going to
say.

He was
experiencing a very odd reaction to Marjorie. He had resisted
coming to her chamber because he didn’t want to be assaulted with
emotions and memories best left in the past. Certainly, her
familiar posture had jolted his memory. Yet when he looked into
Marjorie’s face, the same face he had once adored, he felt neither
affection nor anger. Marjorie was twenty-two years old now, a
mature woman and a mother. In her light blue eyes and the wisps of
sandy hair escaping from her golden hairnet, Roarke could discern
few traces of the laughing, carefree girl who had been his youthful
love.

He looked
from Marjorie to Jenia, with her vivid red-brown hair and her
ever-changing amber eyes, and it occurred to him that in Marjorie
he had loved a pale dream. His affection for Marjorie had gone from
his heart as silently as a dream vanishes upon wakening. And he had
been so consumed with the insult she had dealt to his male pride
that he’d never even noticed when his love for her had
disappeared.

Jenia –
courageous, honorable, stubborn, and above all
loyal
– was his reality. Roarke
wanted her with a need that threatened to bring him to his knees
before her, to grovel there and plead with her to desire him with
equal fervor.

“
I’m sure
you will not believe me,” Marjorie said, “but I do care about
Garit. I even care about you, Roarke. The search for Chantal cannot
have been easy for you, either.”

“
Garit
and I can do without your caring,” he snarled, more out of his long
habit of anger against her than from any genuine emotion. She bowed
her head and made no response. Judging by his own lack of reaction
to her silent humility, Roarke knew the old hurts didn’t matter any
longer. He wouldn’t tell her, though. Marjorie had thoughtlessly
broken his youthful heart and wounded her brother’s affection for
her. Let her make her own peace with Garit. He sought refuge in
courtly formality. “I beg your pardon, my lady. I have been rude,
after you were kind enough to take Jenia in and care for her.
However, I would like to speak with Jenia in private.”

“
Of
course. I’ll be in the next room.” Marjorie started for the
connecting door.

“
Mama!” A
small boy raced through the door, rushing toward Marjorie. When he
spotted Roarke, the boy halted abruptly, his eyes growing large and
round. He raised his right hand and hastily inserted two fingers
into his mouth, as if fingers could provide reassurance in the
presence of strangers. With his left hand he clutched Marjorie’s
skirts.

“
This is
my son,” Marjorie said to Roarke. She caressed the boy’s fair hair
with gentle fingers. “Lan, this is your big brother,
Roarke.”

“
Don’t
you dare-!” Roarke bit off his irritated response to Marjorie’s
manipulation before he could finish the sentence. The boy was not
to blame for what his parents had done. Roarke squatted to bring
his face closer to the child’s height, then held out his hand.
“Hello, Lan. I am pleased to meet you.”

“
Shake
hands, Lan,” Marjorie urged.

Lan
slowly withdrew his fingers from his mouth and reached toward
Roarke. The wet, little hand disappeared into Roarke’s much larger
one. The instant Roarke released him, Lan stuck his fingers back
into his mouth and turned his face into his mother’s
gown.

“
He is
rather shy,” Marjorie said, her hand on Lan’s shoulder.