Vesper knew that was a farce; Maude would tell them everything, anyway, because she could not keep her mouth shut. But Vesper was genuinely in no mood for sordid talk this morning.
“You know that I do not repeat what you tell me,” she said evenly. “But… why don’t you wait until they return? That way you will only have to tell your story once. Meanwhile, come to the window with me and see what the soldiers have done. They have created two armies of snowmen.”
It was enough of a lure to distract Maude briefly, but only briefly. She went to the window to see the snowman armies but it did not hold her attention for long.
“Last night was terrible, Vesper,” she moaned. “He tried something new and I have never been so ashamed in my life.”
Vesper tried not to roll her eyes. “My lady, I am quite sure that Lord Eynsford would not be happy if he knew you spoke of your private life with him. What if he did the same about you? Told all of the men of his bedchamber conquests?”
Maude looked at Vesper, stricken. “Does he?”
Vesper nearly laughed at the question. It was evidently acceptable for her to speak on her husband’s sexual habits but not the other way around. “I do not know,” she said, shaking her head. “I am simply trying to think of the lord’s feelings. And your feelings as well.”
Maude appeared hurt. “Do you not want to hear? But I have no one to talk to. I must share this with someone. I cannot talk to my lord.”
Vesper sighed heavily and returned her focus to her sewing. “Then speak if you must,” she said reluctantly. “I know that you find yourself in a lonely position these days.”
Maude remained by the window, gazing out over the bailey that was quickly turning into a sea of muddy snow. “I did not want to marry him, you know,” she said quietly. “I was hoping for a young, handsome husband, like Des. I can see him from here – he is by the gatehouse.”
Vesper looked up from her sewing, watching Maude’s expression. She knew that Maude had always been smitten with one of Eynsford’s knights, Sir Desmond de Marmande. Desmond had been fond of her, too, until the first Lady Eynsford died and Lord Eynsford swept Maude away from Desmond. Vesper was fairly certain that Desmond’s heart had been broken, but he’d never been anything other than polite and seemingly happy for the wedding of his lord to the woman he’d been fond of.
But it was something they didn’t speak of much these days because it hurt Maude to think of it since she had been very fond of Desmond, too. Vesper was surprised the woman had brought it up.
“You married well, my lady,” she said, returning her focus to her sewing. “Lord Eynsford is very fond of you and you have wealth and position. It is a fine marriage.”
Maude’s features softened as she beheld her once-favored knight through the window. “Sometimes, when William touches me, I imagine that it is Des,” she murmured. Her tone turned sorrowful. “Sometimes, I do not think I can take his touch one more minute, Vesper. He is old and fat, and he smells terribly. He forces me to lie on my back while he covers me with his big, hairy body and rubs himself all over me.”
Vesper was sorry for her friend but hearing the wistfulness in Maude’s tone when she spoke of Desmond made her think of Val. Was that how her life was going to be, also? Spending her time pining away for the man she adored? It was tearing at her heart.
“Maude, don’t…,” she begged softly.
But Maude wasn’t listening. “All he cares about is having another son,” she said, close to tears. “I spend hours pulling at his slimy, stubby manhood until it is hard enough for him to bed me. And it hurts, Vesper – he rams it into me and grunts like a pig. I do not know how much longer I can stand it.”
Vesper sighed sharply and looked up at her. “No more, Maude,” she said quietly. “Please. Someone will hear you and it will get back to our lord. You are his wife now and you must do as he wishes.”
Maude knew that. Her fair face crumpled. “I am so miserable, Vesper,” she wept softly. “Whatever shall I do?”
Vesper had no answers. She was fairly miserable herself. Before she could come up with a reply that would both ease Maude and, hopefully, convince the woman to shut her mouth, Maude suddenly spoke.
“There is someone entering the gatehouse,” she sniffled, wiping at her eyes. Then, she blinked, peering at the activity at the gatehouse. “Vesper, it looks like your father!”
Vesper was on her feet, racing to the window where Maude stood and practically shoved the woman aside. In disbelief, she could see what had Maude’s attention – there was no mistaking the man who had come through the gatehouse on foot, dressed in clothes she’d seen on her father since he’d come to Eynsford those weeks ago. Dirty woolens and a torn, dirty cloak. The man’s head was uncovered and his bushy, dark hair was illuminated in the bright sunlight.
McCloud d’Avignon had returned.
Shocked, Vesper could hardly grasp what she was seeing. McCloud was speaking to the men at the gatehouse pleasantly. They knew him as Vesper’s father from his recent visit to Eynsford.
What they didn’t know is why Vesper had returned without him because she’d never said a word about her father. When people asked, all she’d said was that he’d been forced to return to Durley to tend the farm. She didn’t want anyone to know what had happened but here he was, returned to Eynsford, when he had promised to leave her alone. After Vesper’s initial shock faded, anger took hold. Damn the man!
He was here!
“You will excuse me,” she said to Maude. “I must see why my father has come.”
Maude started to follow her. “Mayhap he will join us before the fire,” she said hopefully. “He was very pleasant when last I saw him. Ask him if he will come in and sit with us for a time and tell us stories of his knightly adventures.”
Vesper didn’t even reply; she couldn’t. She was afraid that anything out of her mouth might clue Maude in on the fact that she didn’t want her father here. Rushing from Maude’s solar, she made her way to the stairs that led to the entry level, taking them far too quickly. Oddly enough, the keep and inner structure of Eynsford were still mostly made of wood and the stairs creaked as she rushed down them. To the entry door she went, bolting from the keep with her skirts gathered so she wouldn’t trip on them.
With every step, her anger grew. He had promised to stay away from her, but here he was, already breaking that promise. Vesper was so furious that she could hardly see straight, rushing through the snowy slush to tell her father exactly what she thought of his unannounced visit. She was just nearing the main gates when Desmond, speaking to McCloud, caught sight of her.
“Ah,” Desmond said pleasantly. “Here she is. Lady Vesper, your father has surprised us with another visit.”
Vesper forced a smile at Desmond, a genuinely nice man, but very quickly that smile turned to a grimace as she beheld her father. “So he has,” she said through clenched teeth. “What are you doing here, Papa?”
It was a rather neutral question and McCloud faced his daughter with a good deal of trepidation. The moment their eyes met, he could see her confusion and rage. Not that it surprised him; he rather expected it. In fact, it was a far calmer action than he had expected.
“I… I have missed you,” he said simply. “And I come bearing some news. I thought we might speak privately.”
Vesper was all in favor of that. She had a few things she wanted to say to her father, too, and none of them pleasant. She took him by the arm, leading him away from the gatehouse.
“Please excuse us, Des,” she said.
Desmond waved them on and Vesper practically dragged her father away, heading for the keep when she really had no intention of taking him there. She simply wanted to take him to some place without prying ears, which was a spacious area near the keep with a yew tree in the middle of it. People might see them there but they wouldn’t hear what was being said. She pulled him right underneath the tree before releasing him.
“Now,” she hissed. “You will tell
me why you have come. You promised that you would stay away from me!”
McCloud held up his hand to calm her. “I did,” he said quickly, “and I am sorry. Please do not be angry, Vesper. You are all that I have now and I had to come.”
Her eyebrows flew up in a rage. “I am nothing to you!” she said. “I was a girl-child you cast off when my mother died and you’ve only had contact with me twice since then. I am nothing to you!”
McCloud gazed at her, knowing what she said was true. She had every right to be angry. He tried not to feel too foolish and too remorseful, for he’d had the entire trip from Durley in which to feel every emotion he could possibly feel – regret for his life, remorse for his relationship with his daughter, and guilt that he wanted to mend it. He knew she wanted nothing to do with him but he was here to press his case, anyway. Perhaps it was because he simply didn’t want to be alone.
“And I am sorry for that,” he said quietly. “It is true that I left you at Eynsford when your mother died, but that was because I was heading to France to fight. I could not remain home and take care of you and I certainly could not leave you with your brother. Can you not understand that?”
Vesper was vastly impatient with him. “I will not discuss this with you,” she said angrily. “You said you would stay away. What is so important that made you break your word to me?”
McCloud sighed faintly. “Everything,” he muttered. “I have had time to think since your brother’s death, Vesper. Burying my son did something to my soul… as if a flame had been blown out and all that remained was smoke. There was darkness there but, soon enough, I could see through it. I could see what I had done.”
Vesper grunted. “A pretty speech.”
McCloud shook his head. “It is not a speech. I have not always been a man of dishonor, Vesper. Once, I was a man of great honor and trust. Men looked up to me. But somehow… somehow poverty and starvation changed that man. Val remembered the man I once was, which is why he was so receptive to seeing me again. You must believe that your papa was once a great man.”
Vesper was still impatient. “And you have come all the way to Eynsford to tell me that?”
McCloud was starting to wonder if she could even understand what he was trying to tell her. “I have come to tell you how sorry I am,” he said. “It… it is not easy for me to speak those words, but I find that I must. I have forsaken you, which I am extremely sorry for. I… I came to ask your forgiveness, Vesper. I understand if you do not wish to know me any longer, but I find that it is important to me to have your forgiveness. I have wronged you and, for that, I am sorry. I have shown you a man that I do not wish to be.”
He sounded quite sincere, enough to douse Vesper’s fire somewhat. She was innately compassionate but she didn’t want to be made a fool of. After everything that had happened, she wasn’t sure she could ever trust him.
“Mayhap all you say is true,” she said. “But had my brother not been caught, you would still be heading down the same path. You would still be conspiring to marry Lady de Nerra and eager for me to wed Val simply so you could have access to their money.”
McCloud cocked his head. “Mayhap that is true,” he said honestly. “But an event such as your brother’s execution has a way of forcing a man to re-think his life. I have been forced to take a look at mine and I do not like what I see. I wanted you to know that.”
His sincerity took her anger down another notch. She honestly wasn’t certain how to reply. “So now you have told me. Now what?”
“I suppose that is up to you.”
“Then I want you out.”
McCloud hung his head but he didn’t argue. He simply nodded his head, turning for the main gate. As Vesper watched him go, head down, she began to feel a wave of remorse. He was her father, after all. He’d made mistakes. Perhaps he was genuinely trying to atone for them. She’d always believed herself to be a forgiving person but, in this case, she hadn’t shown much. Self-protection had seen to that. But, perhaps, she was being too hard on a man who was sincerely trying to seek forgiveness for his past.
Indecision clawed at Vesper as she watched her father walk away, dragging his feet through the dirty snow. He looked so beaten, so subdued. A once-proud man who had ruined his life. It was enough to force her to call out to him.
“Papa,” she said. “Wait.”
McCloud paused, turning to look at her. “What is it?”
Vesper wasn’t sure what to say at that point. Did she forgive him? Or did she not? She grasped at the first thing that came to mind.
“You said you had news,” she said. “What news?”
McCloud shook his head. “I did not have any, really,” he said. “I only said that so Sir Desmond would not suspect the reasons for my visit.”
“So he would not suspect that you’d come to apologize to me?”
McCloud averted his gaze. “Aye,” he said. “I was not sure if you had told anyone what happened with your brother.”
Vesper frowned, closing the gap between them. “Why would I do that? Why would I bring such horrible shame to myself? Nay, Papa, I have kept my lips closed and you will as well. No one here knows what happened with Mat and no one ever will. Do you understand me?”
McCloud nodded. “I am pleased you did not tell anyone.”
Vesper eyed the man; he looked quite exhausted, which he should have been considering he’d been traveling on foot for days on end. He had no money; she knew that. He probably hadn’t eaten much, if at all. Now she was starting to feel the least bit sorry for him. He was still her father even if he was a stranger who had been complicit to terrible crimes and had a conniving way of thinking. But men had a right to be forgiven if they were truly repentant, she supposed. With a sigh, feeling frustrated and weak, she reached out and took him by the arm.
“Come with me,” she said, resignation in her tone. “Come have something to eat and then I will find you a place to sleep. When you have rested, we will speak again.”
McCloud looked at her, knowing she was only doing this out of duty. He doubted there was instant forgiveness in her heart for him and he understood that. But he was sincere in his words and it was something only time would tell. He hoped she would at least give him the chance to reclaim that man he’d lost.
“I would be grateful,” he said. “And I am quite hungry.”
“I thought you would be.”
“Not much is growing this time of year that is edible, so I have had to beg scraps for the past few days. The coinage Val gave me is long since gone.”
Val. There was that name. Vesper had been doing a good job of putting thoughts of the man aside until that moment and, now, he was in her head again. Her thoughts began to turn from her father to Val, of the doubts she had in insisting upon their separation. It had been many days since she’d last heard from him and he hadn’t sent her the necklace yet, the sign that he still wanted to court her. Now, that was all she could think of.
Her father knew Val, didn’t he? Perhaps he would have some answers.
“A man like Val…,” she said, pausing a moment before continuing. “He has a great many duties, does he not? What I mean is that he would be very busy, all of the time… would he not?”
McCloud trudged through the mud beside her, feeling the icy dampness against his frozen feet. “He is a man with great responsibility,” he said. He eyed her. “I do not know what was said between you two after I left to bury your brother. Did he speak further to you about your future together?”
Vesper shrugged. She wasn’t sure she wanted to tell her father everything. Although she wanted his insight, she didn’t want to give the man a confession in order to get it. She glanced up at him.
“You do not blame him for Mat’s death, do you?” she asked. “You know that he had no choice. He told you that.”
McCloud’s features seemed to tighten as memories of that day returned. He paused thoughtfully before replying. “Had the situation been reversed and it was his son I had st
ood in judgement over, I would have done all I could to spare his life. I thought Val was my friend. He should have… he should have spared him.”
Vesper frowned. “Papa, he was surrounded by a mob and by men of the law who were looking to him to dispense justice,” she said. “I do not know much about the law but I know that if Mat had been anyone else, Val would have been compelled to do the same thing. Just because he was your son did not give him any special protection for what he had done because the man was guilty. Surely you understand that.”
“Mayhap I do, but I am still reconciling myself to the fact that my old friend would execute my son. My son.”
“And I am sure Val is having a difficult time reconciling how you lied to him and tried to woo his mother. Therefore, you have no right to be angry with a man you tried to dupe.”
She was correct. God help him, McCloud knew she was. But he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Val had done his duty when it came to Mat and McCloud was trying not to hate the man for it.
“But I have realized my folly,” he said quietly. “Will he realize his?”
Vesper shook her head at her father’s sense of justice. It made her realize that, perhaps, he truly hadn’t understood the depth of his betrayal or how, as he put it, he became a man he did not like. She was starting to think that her father had a twisted sense of right and wrong in general.
“You have come to me asking for my forgiveness,” she said, pausing before they could enter the great hall. “If you truly want it, then forgive Val for doing his duty and ending the terror of a murderer. I do not care if he was my brother or not. Val did the right thing when you would not. If you do not see that, then I do not believe you are sincere in wanting my forgiveness. I think you are being selective in this soul purging you seem to be doing.”
McCloud wouldn’t look at her, wiping at his frozen nose with the back of his hand. After a moment, he lifted his gaze. There was something warm twinkling in the depths. “Is that what growing up has done for you?” he asked. “Has it truly made you wiser than your father?”
Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume II Page 111