The Dumont Bride (19 page)

“And so,” he continued, after walking back to his seat at the table, “if you can not give me some other proof against these claims, I will have no choice but to honor them.”

“You would honor them? You would leave me to them?”

“My own honor would demand it.”

There it was—the worst of it. When he was ignorant of this, he could honor his vows to her. Now that he knew of this prior claim and could not disprove it, he had no right to her. In spite of his desire to fight for her, he had no right or standing to do so.

She gasped and began to shake. He handed her the wine and waited as she fought to control herself.

“When we married and I found out about the pregnancy, I could accept that because I believed that
Eleanor arranged it to cover some ill-planned affair on your part. It is not uncommon to marry and give a bastard a name. I could ignore it—” he pointed at her belly “—and still remain married to you. My honor did not suffer since no one knew that I was not the father.”

“Some know.”

“But they would, as you said, carry that secret to their graves.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. Then she looked at him. “You know John is behind this.” He nodded. “You know these are false.” She held out the betrothal contract and the will.

“So you say.” He did not mean to insult her. “And so I believe, but you can not go to these proceedings and blame all on the prince. Without proof of his complicity, it is a crime in and of itself.”

Her gaze moved over everything in the room but avoided him. “And this is your decision?”

“My God, Emalie! I am torn in two by this.” He slammed his fists on the table as he stood before her. “I had just become accustomed to the babe you carry and decided I could live with accepting another man’s child as mine.”

“But only if you did not know the father?” Sarcasm laced her question.

“If the father is gone or has no knowledge. I can not fight for a child against the father who claims it.”

“What do you now? Will you walk away? Will you even speak on my behalf at the proceedings?” She was losing strength now; he could hear it in her voice. The stress was taking its toll on her, as he knew it would.

“Give me some proof! Give me some evidence to use so that I can.”

“I have none to give you.”

“Then tell me your truth, so that I can examine it and…”

“Judge me?”

“Aye, my lady. Because in that court, you will have many judges and every word and gesture and hesitation will be held up to scrutiny by men who know you not. You will be picked apart by strangers before they decide your fate and they may not even allow you to speak. Give me something, Emalie. Please.”

“I have nothing for you, Christian. If you…” She choked on her words and did not say more.

“Think on it. There is not much time left.”

Looking around the room, he knew he would not stay here this night. Christian walked to the door leading to his chambers and opened it. He had not slept without her for months, but he would not sleep tonight anyway.

I
f you loved me.

Those were the words she almost said to Christian as he begged her for proof against these claims made by John on William’s behalf.

If he loved her, he would claim her and fight for her.

If he loved her as she loved him…

She smiled sadly. He did not know of her feelings, for she had never told him. She burdened him with so much already that expressing her love in words was not something she would do.

Love had no place in a modern marriage between a noblewoman and a nobleman. It had taken her a long time and much suffering to learn this simple truth. Her parents were an extraordinary exception and, although happiness could be found, love did not usually exist for a wedded couple.

She looked at the documents on the table one more time. Perhaps she had missed something the first dozen times she’d read them? When morning came, she would seek Father Elwood’s counsel over this. He knew Church law; he knew her father.

Morning was a long time from now, but Emalie felt
no need or desire to sleep. Again. She had spent the last night and day within the confines of her chamber, for she had not the strength to face those in the keep or the village. Or him.

She felt like walking. Without waking Alyce, she took her heavy cloak and headed for the battlements at the top of the keep.

Taking deep breaths of the cold wind, she walked to the place she liked and looked over Greystone. Christian was right—winter would come early this year. Already the air was tinged with a frostiness that usually came later than this.

She had one more day here before everything would change. If the courts ruled in William’s favor, her marriage to Christian would be set aside and she would find herself married to William. In that instant, she appreciated Christian more than she ever had. She laughed bitterly as she thought of the months she’d spent resisting his efforts in Greystone.

The wind whipped around her and she closed her eyes and let its force move around her. She was still amazed at its power to soothe her frayed nerves in spite of the cold and the strength of it. Pushing her hood back, she let her hair loose in it. Closing her eyes once more, she stood silently and cleared her mind of all thoughts and worries. It would not help her in the long run, but it would bring such relief now.

Only the scraping sound of steps approaching broke into her reverie and she stepped aside to let the guards pass. As she did so, she caught sight of him standing in the opposite corner. He nodded to her as their gazes met, but did not come closer.

Once he had. He had followed her here a few weeks ago and kissed her senseless. When she thought she
would swoon, he had wrapped his cloak over hers and plundered her mouth again with his as his hands explored her body. She thought he would take her right up against the wall, but instead they ran down to their chambers and sought pleasure there. Against a wall.

Did he remember it now even as she did? His expression did not change. She reached up and gathered her hair, tucking it inside her hood. Mayhap it was best to leave him and go below? It seemed the right thing to do, so she crossed to the stairway and left him there.

In her room, she thought on his words last night. He asked her for the truth, for her truth. Could she speak it and could he hear it? Would it make any difference at all other than to see disappointment in his eyes? She had seen lust and desire, anger and annoyance, even compassion and caring. Would he consider her dishonored when he heard her story?

She paced for a long time around her chambers as she waited to hear him enter his. Finally, after his hallway door slammed shut, she decided to tell him that which she most sought to hide. Without knocking, she entered his room and waited for him to see her. When he turned and faced her, she spoke.

“I did not intend to disturb your privacy above.”

“I know you did not intend to.” He smiled at her words and his deliberate misuse of them. “’Twas fine, though, for I had been there before you arrived.”

“I did not see you.”

“No, you did not, but I saw you.”

It struck her then, about why he liked wild winds blowing against him.

His months in prison.

“I understand now, my lord. The need for the wind above. The door always ajar. The way you eat.”

He nodded. “Regrettable remnants of my time in prison. I did not think anyone noticed.”

“I did, but said nothing. I thought them just Pontevin arrogancies.”

He smiled at her insult. “Here, sit.” He moved a chair closer to the hearth and helped her to sit. “You must be chilled from the wind.”

“I would speak to you of my truth.” She started without any preamble or warning, for she could feel her courage dissolving.

He sat on the edge of his bed and watched her. The ease that they had together was gone now. Concern. Compassion. But nothing held them together any longer. The bonds they had built, layer upon layer, testing and strengthening, were gone. If she had tears left, she would have cried.

“My parents had an extraordinary marriage. I’m certain you have heard of it.”

He answered with a nod and she continued. “My mother died a few years ago and my father realized that I would be his heir. He trained me in the management and record-keeping and planning for our estates. We worked side by side for the good of our people.”

She shifted in the chair, trying to get more comfortable for the telling. “About a year and a half ago, William approached my father about a betrothal, which he promptly and completely refused. My father had it in mind to request a new betrothal from Richard when he was freed. I saw the letter he sent to Longchamp in London about it.

“I do not understand the change in William. The prince was correct in that our families were well acquainted and we had spent much time together as children. But William turned insistent that an arrangement
with him was needed. My father refused in spite of his determination to make it so.

“Then Prince John visited Greystone. He had never been here before, at least not to my knowledge. He began to encourage my father to accept William’s suit for my hand. But as the prince became adamant, my father became obstinate and refused William admittance to Greystone.”

“And John?” he asked quietly from where he sat.

“One does not refuse the prince. John was here almost constantly at that time. Then my father suddenly took ill.”

“With what condition?”

“It happened so quickly that I was not certain. We had little time to call the brothers who practice healing from Thornton Abbey. He became ill one night, began having seizures the next day and died the following night.”

“And the prince was here while all this happened?”

“Aye. He was very solicitous and helpful. After he left, William would show up, offering his help. I struggled through those months without my father here.”

“With estates as large as yours, I am certain that you did,” he said. “But you were able to do remarkable things, considering…”

“That I am a woman?”

“Considering that you are young and you were alone.”

“Everyone helped me, from the servants to the villagers. Even the stewards on my other properties did not squawk at taking orders from me.”

“They knew the alternative, I think.”

She nodded. “John’s intentions and his recent history of grabbing up land were known to us all. Durwyn,
when he could be here, cautioned about being caught up in John’s web.”

“Go on,” he urged.

“That brings us to this past spring. I had petitioned Richard’s chancellor about my wardship and about a possible match, but heard nothing. I assumed that my needs were not important in the grand scheme of running England and the other Plantagenet provinces.”

Emalie stood and stretched; sitting in one place for too long made her back cramp. She went to the table next to the bed and poured them both some wine. Handing him the cup, she paced now as she spoke.

“I sent a note to the queen, asking for guidance, but before she could arrive, it happened. One night, William and John were in my chambers when I arrived there. They bound and gagged Alyce and forced her into a closet to keep her from seeking help.”

“Were you hurt?”

She looked at him as she tried to remember the next morn. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I do not remember being hurt. I remember them arguing and William forcing me to drink a goblet of wine. They argued more and then the room began to swirl around me. Someone, William, I think, helped me to the bed and I fell down on it. I remember being dizzy and John came over to me.”

She stared at the wall and forced the memories to come. “I can feel his kiss and his hands on me, even as I could no longer stand. Then I remember looking up at them both and they argued again.”

“Do you remember what they argued over?”

“Me…something about my resistance. John wanted me to fight him. It made no sense at the time. He was angry at William for putting something in my wine that
made me sleepy.” She looked at him as she repeated the words she heard now in her thoughts. “What use to me if she lies like a doll and has no life in her? I had hoped for a show of spirit tonight.”

A shiver pulsed through her. Since experiencing the many different ways of joining and pleasure, she understood what his words had meant.

“There was more yelling and then I felt hands all over me. Not hurting, just tugging at my laces and my clothes. Then I remember William’s face above me. He was sweating and moving. He felt heavy and hot against my skin and I remember the cold sheets below my legs. And he repeated words over and over to me. I could not gather my thoughts or move except as he moved me, but I could hear him.”

“What words, Emalie? What did he say?”

“Forgive me.”

The room was quiet as they both pondered what she had shared. She had not remembered William’s words until just then.

“As I said, William was different than before. He was driven. He was unrelenting in his quest for my hand, as though John had some power over him. If he seemed to stumble in his efforts, a word or two from John pushed him forward.”

“Everyone has their price, Emalie. Perhaps John had discovered William’s and paid it?” He paused and then asked another question. “Did they leave then?”

“I do not know. The next thing I remember is Alyce shaking me awake and discovering the bloody sheet beneath me.”

He drank all his wine in one gulp and put the cup down on the table next to his bed. Christian looked
unnerved by her words. She knew that memories of that night haunted her still.

“They stayed away until Eleanor arrived, and then William claimed carnal knowledge of me and offered to wed me.”

“He said nothing of the betrothal contract that he presents now?”

“Nothing. He confessed that his desire for me overtook his senses and that he regretted his rash actions and was willing to marry me since I was now dishonored. Eleanor was not impressed and threw them both out while she investigated for herself.”

“I feel certain that your people were as closemouthed about you then as they are now.”

She smiled as she thought of the bravery demonstrated on her behalf in the face of John’s rage. It was not something pretty to behold then, but now she could appreciate what they had done.

“No one betrayed me. No one could remember seeing or hearing John and William within the keep or in the village the night they claimed to be here. No bloody sheets could be produced. And Eleanor drew the line at having me subjected to a physician’s or midwife’s exam as John demanded. When I did not cry out about being wronged, there was no way to prove their claim.”

Emalie made her way back to the chair and sat down. “Richard was released and came to England briefly before going on to Aquitaine and Anjou. I think Eleanor spoke to him then, for she believed that only a quick marriage could save me and my people, if their plan was to be a success. You arrived here but a few weeks later.” She looked up at him and smiled sadly. “You know the rest.”

Before he could speak, she added what she had most wanted and most feared telling him. Her lack of disclosure had forced him into the position he was in now and she would not allow him to make this decision without knowing her truth.

“I know that your actions were for other reasons, but I think I began to fall in love with you when you asked me to sit court with you. I knew I was in love with you when you took me to Lemsley for Fayth’s wedding and wooed me with your words and touches.” She stood and walked to the door that now separated their rooms. “And I will love you always because of the honorable man you are, Christian. No matter what turns our lives take after this day, my heart will be only yours.”

She left without another word and her spirit felt lighter somehow for the confession she’d made to him.