“So you jump readily to another man’s bed,” the man spat in disgust.
“Don’t dare to judge me, peasant! Don’t even talk to me. You have no idea who I am,” she hollered in outrage, scowling. Clenching her fists, she faced him. Sniffing loudly, she fumed, “My dead husband was to be an earl. I could have you hanged for insulting me!”
“If you are so noble, my drunken wench, then why are you here unescorted?” The man’s voice became chilly. The frozen shards shot at her like arrows.
“It’s none of your concern,” she spat in growing outrage. “I’m escorted by Edmund. Besides I’m a widow and restrictions aren’t as high on me anymore. I’m no longer closely watched.”
And, she added silently. The earl will grant me anything so long as I pretend to be recovered and not bother him with my tears.
“You are right, of course, m’lady,” the man stated by way of an apology. His accent grew thick, as he asked, “Who are you to marry?”
“Lord Eilric of Eschenfeld,” she stated flatly. “He’s a great man also. He’s taking me to Germany with him.”
“So, does m’lady love her new fiancé?”
“Alliances are not formed on love,” she whispered bitterly. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. There was something in the way the man spoke that reminded her of Wolfe. But, then, everything reminded her of Wolfe. She blinked back her tears.
“Excuse me?”
“Never you mind,” she answered, sarcastically adding, “Naturally I love him. We are to be married, are we not? It’s in the vows that I do so.”
Ginevra leaned over and grabbed her bag of presents. The man watched her as she hoisted it over her shoulder. Without another word, she ambled slowly from the stables to the house. Her heart beat painfully in her chest. Swallowing down the bitterness, she pushed open the door.
“Edmund,” Ginevra stated, seeing the man. “I think you had better escort me home first thing on the morrow.”
“Yea, m’lady. Is all well? Ye were out fer fairly a time.” Edmund stood. Nervously he looked out over her shoulder into the night.
“Don’t worry about your friend in the stables. I know he’s a Moor. I think he must be, for his accent. I won’t tell you harbor him, for I know you have your reasons to do so.” Ginevra put down the bag. Motioning to Britheue, she said, “Here are the gifts I promised. I have brought you some gowns. I thought you could sew a few new ones for Anecia as well. I brought enough material. The rest you can do with what you like.”
“Yea, m’lady, many thanks,” Britheue answered in confusion. She looked at Edmund who only shrugged.
“Stay up as long as you like. I must get some rest.” Ginevra unrolled a heavy blanket of fur and curled into a ball on top of it. Closing her eyes, she fought the agony that constantly threaten to overwhelm her.
Ginevra traveled back to Whetshire with the dawn and arrived home within the late hours of morning. Britheue’s guest left in the night without word. Ginevra was glad for she didn’t want a reminder of all she had said to him in her drunken rage. She would have blushed if her head didn’t pound so violently.
Glancing at Edmund, she swung with deliberate slowness from the back of her horse. Her companion was no better off than she was. Curling her mouth in disgust of the taste in it, she coughed miserably.
“Gin,” Helena rushed forward. “Are you all right? What has happened?”
Ginevra flinched and squeezed her eyes shut. Helena’s brow creased in worry until she saw the matching red brimmed lids of Edmund. Edmund looked sheepishly away and tried to not laugh at the noblewoman’s disdain.
Putting her hand on her hips, Helena scolded, “You’re drunk.”
“Was,” Ginevra mumbled in correction. “I was drunk. Now I am sick.”
“Gin, really,” Helena said. Then, turning to Edmund, she shook her head. “And you! Letting her drink herself into such a state! Her fiancé is here! What will he think?”
“Fiancé?” Edmund shot in surprise. He blinked heavily as he looked to Lady Ginevra for confirmation.
“Yea, Edmund, I am to be married on the morrow.” Ginevra shrugged as if it was nothing.
“So you have decided to accept his offer then?” Helena shot in surprise. “And so soon?”
“Why not soon?” Ginevra returned with a scowl. “It’s what you all wish.”
“Gin,” Helena put forth. She heard well the bitterness in her friend’s words. “We only want to see you happy. You know we all loved Wolfe--”
“I said I will marry. So you don’t have to worry about me anymore. Soon I will be in Germany,” Ginevra hissed. Storming away from her stunned sister-by-marriage, she strode into the main hall. Seeing William, she frowned. She tried to glide past him, but had to stop when he ran to her.
“Move Will,” Ginevra ordered. “I go to lie down. I must rest if I’m to accept Lord Eilric’s proposal properly.”
“Then you are going to take him?” William asked in surprise. “You’ve decided.”
“There is naught to decide. I will marry Eilric on the morrow if he’ll have it. It’s the most logical thing. Your father is right. I can’t live here forever on your charity--”
“He didn’t say that--”
“Yea, he--”
“Nay, I know my father. He wouldn’t say you were charity. You’re family.” William studied her carefully. “You’re--”
“He said that it would be wise for me to consider my future. I have a son to think of. He’s too young to inherit your father’s title. Besides, the title is now yours. Someday you’ll wish to bring home a bride, and being the future earl, you will have run of this place. What will your wife think of an elderly sister-by-marriage living on her good graces? It’s not a position I relish for my son and me. Eilric asked. I’m going to say yea.” Ginevra tried to skirt past him.
William grabbed her by the arm to stop her. “Gin, I’ve thought about that. Now--oh, Hell’s Fire! Marry me instead. I should be the one taking care of you. I owe it to Wolfe.”
Ginevra froze. She spun on her heel, her words dying on her lips. William’s eyes pleaded earnestly. They shone with affection for her, though not love. Her heart fluttered nervously as her brow creased.
“You don’t love Eilric. He’s not right for you and I know you don’t love me. But I know you. We are already friends and many marriages have been based on much less. You’re family. You’re known here to all and cared for. We’ve no wish to see you in Germany. I’ve already spoken to my father. Being your guardian, he has given his permission for you to decide betwixt Eilric and me. I would have you stay here. I’d raise Wolfe’s child as my own. Don’t take the boy away from his family. Let him know his father through our memories.”
“But, Will--” Ginevra protested. He could never know how his words tore at her. He was using her son to sway her and it wasn’t fair.
“Nay, Gin.” William lifted his hand to place his fingers over her mouth. “We would all see the boy grow. Say yea to me. We can do it tonight if you wish it.”
Ginevra shivered. There were so many traces of Wolfe in William’s face that she almost wailed with the pain of it. Could she marry a man who reminded her of what she had lost? True, she didn’t care for Eilric. But he was nothing like Wolfe. Married to him and living far away from Whetshire, she could try to forget her dead husband.
William’s fingers moved from her lips to cup her cheek in his palm. Sighing, he said, “I know you still care for my brother. Mayhap you will always care. But if you think that you might be able to find a small place in your heart for me, say yea. I don’t ask for your love--only for your companionship. After the consummation, I’ll leave you be to mend your heart. When you are ready, you can come to me. Will your Lord Eilric be so generous with you? Do you think he will set aside his husband rights for you?”
“But, Will, you deserve love. Don’t settle,” Ginevra protested.
“It’s not settling. You are a great woman, Gin. Our children wil
l grow strong, side by side.” William let go of her face with a sigh. “Think on it. Don’t take your son from his family.”
“I--” Ginevra began. She was interrupted by a loud gasp of outrage.
“Lady Ginevra!” Eilric stated.
Ginevra spun around in surprise. Her head throbbed in protest as she moved. Pushing at her defiant temple, she forced down a wave of nausea. Her eyes rounded slightly as she laid witness to Eilric’s red face. Smoothly, she ignored her headache and said, “Lord Eilric.”
Eilric’s face tightened as he eyed William’s closeness to Ginevra. Trying to hide his frown and failing, he strode forward. Giving her rumbled attire and red eyes a quick once-over, he quipped, “What on earth happened to you?”
Ginevra didn’t care for his disdainful tone, but chose to ignore it as she always did. “I just arrived home. I’m afraid I am a bit disheveled from the morning journey.”
“Where were you? I looked everywhere for you. You said you would have an answer for me.” Eilric ignored William. William frowned behind the man’s back. He didn’t walk away. Ginevra would have laughed at William’s face if Eilric wasn’t watching so closely.
“Edmund escorted me to a friend. I had to pay my respects,” Ginevra answered lightly. She glanced at William. Her brother-by-marriage’s face watched her expectantly. His eyes begged her to choose him.
“Only Edmund?” Eilric shot in surprise. Seeing her eyes stray over his shoulder, he turned to William. Scowling, he asked, “Lord William. Could you not excuse us?”
“I’m afraid I’m waiting for Ginevra to answer a question of mine,” William answered coolly. He placed his fists on his waist.
Eilric’s lips curled in a snarl. “I see.”
Both men turned to look at Ginevra. She stared at William’s stance. It looked so much like Wolfe’s. Then, turning to Eilric, he saw the disdainful tilt to his jaw and the better-than-you arc to his brows. He was so pretentiously rude. Shaking her head, she backed away from them.
“Gin,” William stated.
“Ginevra,” Eilric’s voice was questioning.
Ginevra shook her head once more. Lifting her hand to stop any advance they might make, she said, “I will marry one of you tonight. I’m sorry, but I’ll need two hours to decide which. It’s all very confusing.”
“Fine,” William assented.
Eilric was not so easily put off. “That is not acceptable. I would have your answer. Surely you couldn’t think his suit is serious.”
“It’s very serious, Lord Eilric,” William spat. “Give her the time she desires to decide. If you care for her as you claim, it’s only right that you do so.”
Eilric couldn’t argue the logic, though his eyes fought to do just that. Stiffly, he nodded. Turning to Ginevra, he said, “Fine, my love. If you need two hours, take them. I have no doubt they will bring you wisdom. While you decide, I will send for the priest.”
“Yea and I’ll tell my father,” William put forth. The men’s eyes met and locked in silent battle.
“All right,” Ginevra nodded.
The men watched her go before turning to glare at the other. Eilric raised his jaw defiantly in the air. A confident smirk lined his features.
“Save yourself the trouble, boy. She only does this to humor you.” Eilric smiled a cruel smile.
William frowned but said nothing. Eilric growled and stormed from the hall. Cautiously, William went in search of his father. Glancing up the stairwell, he prayed that Eilric was wrong.
Edmund placed his hands on his hips. Staring coldly at his opponent, he forced him back along the wall. The big burly man’s face turned bright red, as he scolded, “Now ye listen here, m’lord. I will have no more o’ yer deceit.”
Wolfe was unafraid. Scratching at his long beard, his brown eyes stared out in discontentment. Wolfe stood tall, regal despite his tattered clothing. Ruthlessly, he spat, “I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Then make me,” Edmund growled. In frustration, he frowned at the nobleman. He was a far cry from the man he’d met in the forest. His eyes were distant and hard. His face showed no emotions. It was as if a large part of him had died and in Lord Wolfram’s place walked a lonely spirit. “I should have told ’er me-self last eve.”
“I don’t have to explain myself. Not to you, not to anybody.” Wolfe pushed Edmund aside, knowing he wouldn’t dare to lay a finger on him. He was wrong.
Edmund grabbed Wolfe by the shoulder and spun him about. Wolfe’s jaw met with his fist and sent him sprawling to the ground. Wolfe looked up in surprise from the floor of Britheue’s barn.
“That’ll knock some sense into ye! Ye will go after ’er. She’s yer wife.” Edmund growled. “And a good lady at that.”
“What would you know of it? How many years have you been living here with Britheue without the tether of marriage?” Wolfe shot.
“Is that what is bothering ye?” Edmund frowned mercilessly. “Well, why didn’t ye say somethin’?”
Wolfe frowned, not understanding. He slowly turned onto his hands and knees before pushing himself up. He flexed his jaw trying to loosen it. He wasn’t badly hurt. He knew that Edmund didn’t hit him nearly as hard as he was capable.
“Britheue!” Edmund yelled.
The men waited while she came out of the cottage. Wiping her hands on her apron, she eyed the men carefully. “Yea, well what is it then?”
“I think we should wed,” Edmund stated. His eyes softened a bit when he glanced at her.
“Ye’re still a sight rough,” she returned. Her eyes traveled over him. Then, shrugging, she said, “Sure. We’ll be married.”
Edmund nodded in manly satisfaction. Britheue returned to her chores inside. Neither man saw her happy smile as she did. Wolfe hid his amazement by swiping the dirt from his sleeves and backside.
“Now, that’s taken care o’.” Edmund narrowed his gaze.
“Edmund,” Wolfe began. He threw his hand in the air and stormed away. Edmund watched in astonishment. Then, shaking his head, he let him go.
Wolfe stalked away from Edmund, chased by the many demons he carried home from the war. Ginevra’s words had been clear. She loved Lord Eilric. Cursing himself, he should have known. The man had been overly attentive of her at the tournament all those years ago and her feelings for her ‘dead husband’ were quite clear. She thought him a damnable scoundrel. Growling into the trees, Wolfe stormed into the forest with the lethal anger of a raging beast.
Chapter Eighteen
Ginevra took a deep breath, but her heart remained untouched. The night drifted in through the narrow slit window, carried by a streamlined breeze. The windows whistled as the wind picked up and crashed against them. Ginevra pressed her forehead to the unforgiving stone. She could see nothing but dark sky and the string of clouds hiding the stars from her.
Turing, she smoothed the folds of her simple gown. Helena had lent her the tunic dress, altering the fine linen hems at the last minute to fit. Ginevra didn’t care as she prodded her long hair until it pulled back simply and knotted at her neck. She refused Lora’s help to ready her. And she didn’t bother to take the time to get ready, like when she married Wolfe. She hardly saw a point.
Thinking that there was not much to be done with her appearance, she dejectedly lifted the small bouquet of flowers off the center of her bed. Absently, she rubbed her hand over the brown fur. After her son’s birth, the white had to be replaced.
“I don’t want to do this,” she whispered ominously into her bedchamber. “Come and stop me, Wolfe. Come back, please.”
No one answered her. She listened anyway.
Steeling her nerves, Ginevra forced the hammering persistence of her heart to slow. She affected a calm that was getting easier by the day to fake as she left for the hall. The flowers hung by her side, gripped in a hand that would have been just as happy to throw them and crash the delicate buds into a wall. She paused on each step, her feet trying to delay what must be.
&nbs
p; “Surely, once it’s done, Gin,” she murmured. She wondered if she was losing her mind, speaking aloud to herself. Not caring, she finished, “it will be easier to endure.”
Ginevra let her mind go entirely blank as she walked. She didn’t speak to the small gathering as she entered the hall. Their faces shone with brilliant smiles and luminous eyes, all congratulating her on her marriage. Ginevra didn’t feel their pleasure or hear any of their words. Silently, she walked alone to the chapel, knowing her future husband was already there.
Taking up her flowers, she silently handed them to Helena as she passed the tearful woman. Helena took them and clutched them to her breast with unsure fingers. Her tears flowed harder as she turned into her husband’s chest. Robert couldn’t meet his sister’s eyes. He watched the gray patterns of the chapel floor instead.
On legs as stiff as the battlements, Ginevra continued forward. Her mind couldn’t think. She forced the picture of Wolfe’s handsome face from her mind. She bid the echo of his laugh from her heart. She made herself forget the free calling of his masculine voice. She refused to remember the touch of his hands. And she realized that she could never disregard any of it.
Captured within memories of Wolfe, she stepped forward. She continued past the earl, who held fast to her squirming son. The boy looked so much like his father. A pain twitched inside her breast, killing the rest of the unfortunate organ.
Smiling halfheartedly at the priest, she nodded her head at him to speak. She couldn’t meet the eyes of her future husband. As requested, the priest kept his words simple and short until suddenly Ginevra realized she was expected to say her vows. Her eyes widened. Her jaw dropped open in an audible pant. Only then did she turn to William.
She looked up into his kind brown eyes that shone with care and gentle understanding. It was the face of the boy she had known all her life, staring with the eyes of a man about to be bound to her. The priest repeated himself with a gentle clearing of his throat. Ginevra glanced about the chapel. The family watched her expectantly with steadfast eyes. Lord Eilric stood in the back, willing her with his stoic expression to deny William and pick him. Her eyes met and locked with the man’s. He stepped silently forward and stopped. His chin tilted, enticing her to him. In a brief flash she thought about it. She didn’t love him, but in not loving she would never be hurt by him. She didn’t even think she cared for the man.
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