The Iron Knight (The De Russe Legacy Book 3) (30 page)

Susanna didn’t say anything for a moment and Sophina assumed the girl was finished. Just as she reached out to open the door, Susanna spoke again.

“You hate me,” she hissed. “My father hates me and you hate me, too. Well, I hate you, too! You are a terrible person!”

Sophina turned to the child, calmly. “I do not hate you,” she said. “Why would I?”

Susanna was beginning to grow angry. She tugged at the hemp hair of her poppet. “You
beat
me!”

“I spanked you.”

“You took your hand and you… you beat me!”

“You threw pewter cups at me. Did you think I would not punish you for it?”

“You have no right to punish me!”

“Your father gave me permission to punish you.”

Susanna was verging on tears, now tearing her poppet to shreds. “My father hates me!”

Sophina sighed faintly. She could hear such hurt in Susanna’s voice. But before she could move to the girl to speak with her, Aricia entered the conversation.

“Nay, he does not,” she said, moving in Susanna’s direction. “My name is Aricia and I came here yesterday. I heard you screaming. My cousin and I have come to Spelthorne. I can tell you for a fact that your father does not hate you. Do you know how I know that?”

Susanna had at least stopped tearing at her poppet. She looked at Aricia, eyeing the scarf-clad woman warily.

“Where did you come from?” she asked.

Aricia gazed down at the young girl. “France,” she said. “Do you know where that is?”

Susanna shrugged; she didn’t really but didn’t want to admit it. She wasn’t keen on admitting she didn’t know everything. “Near to us,” she said arrogantly. “It is near England. Why did you not come to me yesterday when I called to you? I wanted you to come and entertain me.”

Aricia moved closer. “Because we had only just arrived and it had been a very long journey,” she said. “But I am here now. Do you want me to tell you how I know your father loves you? Because my father did not love me. He told me so. Has your father ever told you that he hated you?”

Susanna looked at Aricia with uncertainty. “He tells me he does not hate me but I know he is lying.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I do!”

Aricia shook her head. Because Susanna was seated, Aricia went down on her knees a few feet from the girl, looking at her quite seriously.

“He is not lying,” she said. “Do you know how I know that? Because you have a beautiful room. You have beautiful toys and you have everything you could possibly want. You have a fine bed and fine food to eat. If your father hated you, he would not give you these beautiful things. He would beat you. Has your father done that?”

Now, Susanna was genuinely stumped at the question. She was also genuinely interested in what Aricia was saying in spite of herself. Something was clicking in her mind, something that forced her to listen. After a moment, she shook her head.

“He has not.”

Aricia nodded with confidence. “I did not think so,” she said. “If he hated you, he would beat you. He would tell you he was ashamed of you and wished that you had never been born. He would tell you that he wished you would die. He would tell you that you were a disgrace to your family and an offense to good and moral people. Has he ever said any of those things to you?”

Susanna’s brow furrowed. “Nay,” she said. “He would be a terrible man for saying such things.”

Aricia nodded, the light of recollection in her eyes. “Aye, he would,” she agreed softly. “That is how I know your father does not hate you. He loves you. You have everything you could possibly need or want. You are very, very fortunate because, you see, my father has said those things to me. He told me he hated me, so I know what it means to have a father who hates you.”

Susanna stared at Aricia. It was apparent that she had no idea what to say. She averted her gaze a moment, looking at her destroyed poppet, her toys, before finally returning her focus to Aricia. For the first time in her life, she had met up with someone who made some sense to her. Adults couldn’t get through to her but a soft-spoken young woman evidently could. Those softly spoken words meant something, spoken to her in a way she could understand.

“Why does your father hate you?” she finally asked.

Aricia reached up and unfastened the yellow scarf covering the lower portion of her face. Discreetly, she revealed her terrible skin for just a brief moment to Susanna before covering herself up again.

“Because he hated the sight of me,” she said softly. “I am ugly; so very ugly. My father would tell me that every day. But you… you are beautiful. You are loved. You are so very fortunate and you do not even know it.”

Susanna caught sight of the red, bumpy skin before Aricia covered it up quickly. She’d never seen such a thing before and she was naturally curious. “What happened to your face?”

Aricia finished securing the scarf. “My skin has eruptions,” she said. “My father said they were ugly, and they are. He left my mother some time ago and we’ve not seen him since, but I am at peace with that. He was a very bad man. I do not care if I ever see him again. But your father… you must not think unkindly of him, for he does not hate you. He shows you his love in this beautiful room and all of the possessions you have. Even if he does not tell you he loves you, he shows you. If he hated you, you would not have all of these wonderful things. You must remember that.”

Susanna was left to ponder a great deal. It was quite a burden for a young girl, but she was very smart. She processed it quickly. In the dark and bitter clouds that filled her mind every hour of every day, somewhere behind them, a ray of hope began because in that woman with the yellow scarf over her face, she saw something of a kindred spirit. The woman had flaws just like she did.

Somewhere, a seed of understanding sprouted.

“You have red skin,” she said. “But I… I cannot walk very well. I have never been able to.”

Aricia nodded. “I heard that about you,” she said. “Are those your paintings over by the hearth?”

Susanna nodded. “Aye.”

“They are very good,” Aricia said. “Will you show them to me?”

Susanna nodded and tried to stand up, but without her canes, it was difficult. “I cannot walk without my canes,” she said, turning to look at Sophina. “She took them away from me.”

Aricia wouldn’t let the girl dwell on her anger towards Sophina. She reached out and took Susanna by the elbow. “You do not need them,” she said. “I will help you walk. Come and show me your paintings. I want to know how you made such beautiful pictures.”

Susanna didn’t recoil. She actually permitted Aricia to help her take a few steps, in the direction of the paintings. She was calm and she wasn’t screaming; it was something of a miracle. Together, Susanna and Aricia moved, very slowly, across the wooden floor.

Meanwhile, Sophina was watching with tears in her eyes. So much of Aricia’s life had come clear in that quiet conversation to Susanna and it hurt Sophina’s heart to know that Aricia’s father had treated her so poorly. Aricia had said that she only lived with her mother and grandmother; now, Sophina knew why. The man had spouted his hatred upon this gentle creature and abandoned her.

Sweet Mary, what a horrible thing to have had happen. Sophina was also quite certain that the father had more of a reason to abandon Aricia than simply her skin. As her father, he knew she had been born male. That must have been why he had told her he was ashamed of her and wish she had never been born. But Aricia had weathered it; her heart had been stronger than her father’s hatred.

She was a remarkable woman, indeed.

“Aricia?” Sophina called out softly. “I will be down in the solar if you require me.”

Aricia waved her off. “I will be fine,” she said. “Lady Susanna is going to show me how to paint.”

With a smile on her lips, Sophina left the chamber. She wouldn’t have believed it had she not seen it with her own eyes.

Thoughts lingering on Aricia and Susanna, Sophina took the narrow stairs down to the ground level. She could hear Emmaline and Juno in conversation in the solar and as she made her way towards it, with quite a story to tell the pair, she heard banging on the entry door.

Curious, she made her way over to the panel and opened the small peep hole that was about level with the top of her head. It was a very small section of the door, cut-out so those inside could see who was on the other side, but she couldn’t see much other than the top of a bushy gray head.

“Who is it?” she asked.

“De Saix,” Holderness said. “Let me in!”

Sophina hesitated. Lucien had told her not to let anyone inside unless he gave her permission. “I am sorry, my lord,” she said. “Sir Lucien gave me instructions not to let anyone in.”

“It is Sir Lucien I have come to tell you of!”

He’s injured!
That was Sophina’s first thought. In a rush, she lifted the big wooden bar that secured the door horizontally, from one side to the other, before unbolting the small iron bolt that held the door securely shut. Just as she was pulling the panel open, Holderness was shoving at it from the other side. He nearly shoved her over.

“Where is my daughter?” he demanded.

Fearful, Sophina pointed to the small solar. When Holderness dashed for the chamber, she followed on his heels. As he rushed into the room, he startled Juno and Emmaline, who gasped at his sudden appearance. Juno was on her feet.

“Papa!” she gasped. “Why are you here? What has happened?”

Holderness was beside himself. He grasped his daughter by the wrist. “De Russe has shown an aversion to marrying you and now I know why,” he said, turning to Sophina. “It is Lady de Gournay he wishes to marry, but Lady de Gournay’s betrothed is here and demanding that de Russe relinquish her.”

Juno’s eyes widened at Sophina. Even Emmaline looked at her mother with surprise. But Sophina didn’t look at either girl – she was frozen for a moment, unable to speak because Holderness had revealed a very horrible piece of information that had her reeling with shock.

Lady de Gournay’s betrothed is here!

“Is
that
who brought the army here?” she asked Holderness, incredulous. “St. Michael du Ponte brought his army here?”

“Ah!” Holderness pointed a finger at her accusingly. “Then you admit he is your betrothed!”

Sophina was more concerned for Lucien and the apparent arrival of du Ponte than she was for Juno at the moment. She simply couldn’t help it. She certainly hadn’t expected du Ponte to come to Spelthorne because, in her mind, there was no way he could have known she was here unless one of his men recognized Lucien when he saved her and Emmaline from the sinking carriage. But if that was the case, why did du Ponte simply not come alone? Why bring an entire army?

It was deeply puzzling, and concerning, and Holderness’ condemning attitude was only serving to feed her anxiety. She didn’t appreciate the fact that he was practically screaming accusations at her.

“My father approached St. Michael du Ponte with a potential marriage,” she said evenly. “I was on my way to Gillingham Castle to meet with Sir St. Michael when we were set upon by bandits and saved by Sir Lucien.”

Holderness wasn’t finished condemning her. “And you seduced de Russe!” he said. “You stole him from my daughter!”

Emmaline leapt to her feet. “That is not true,” she said hotly. “He was kind to us and she helped him!”

Sophina put her hand on her excitable daughter. “Sit down, sweetheart,” she said softly, firmly. “We know that what he says is not the truth.”

“Not the truth?” Holderness said, unconvinced. “Do you know what de Russe just did? He offered to buy du Ponte’s contract. He is trying to buy himself one bride and bribe himself out of another. Aye, you heard me correctly – he wants to
pay
me to dissolve the contract between him and my daughter and I will tell you now that it will cost de Russe every last pence he has to do it. If he wants to marry you, then I will take everything from him before I break the contract.”

“Nay, Papa!” Juno finally found her tongue. “For the Love of Christ, you will not take his money, do you hear? You will not do this at all! I have watched you bully and gloat and push people around, but I will not stand by and watch you do it anymore. If Sir Lucien wants to marry Lady de Gournay so badly that he is willing to pay for it, that should speak great testimony to his wants and needs, which do not include me. I am glad, do you hear? I am glad!”

Holderness turned on his daughter. “Shut your mouth,” he hissed. “It is because of you that this marriage must happen immediately. You have forced my hand.”

Juno yanked her arm from her father’s grasp. “It is because of
you
,” she fired back. “You and your petty arrogance. No one but a great husband would do for me when the truth is that the only husband I want is in Warwickshire. He is a simple knight and the father of my child, but that is not good enough for you. Nay! You must have a prestigious husband for me, forcing me into marriage with Sir Lucien so he will believe the child I carry is his own. You are despicable and horrible to be so deceitful!”

Holderness turned white, hearing Sophina gasp behind him. Suddenly, the situation had turned on him as the truth was revealed from his daughter’s lips. Anger such as he had never known flooded him, shame beyond compare. Now, everyone would know what had happened, something he was trying very desperately to salvage. But now, there would be no salvation. Now, the truth was out.

“You foolish wench,” he said to his daughter, his lips trembling. “You foolish, lowly girl. If you’d only kept your legs closed, this would not have happened. You have ruined us.”

“And if you’d only listened to me for once in your life, we would not find ourselves in this position!”

“Ungrateful chit!”

Juno grunted in frustration and turned away, bursting into quiet tears. Emmaline rushed to her friend’s side, putting her arms around her quite protectively as she glared daggers at Holderness, who showed no emotion whatsoever to tears from his daughter or the hateful stares from a young woman. When he finally turned around to face Sophina, she was staring at him with a hand over her mouth. Her dismay was evident.