by Amy Mullen
She could not leave things in a state of uncertainty with Andre any longer. She was tired of trying to get away and tired of being afraid – or she was just plain tired of being constantly on guard. Her life had seemed like a lie for so long, she now longed for clarity. That clarity may bring her heartbreak, but it would be something real.
It was now utterly simple, and she knew now what she had to do. Somewhere along the line she had fallen for Andre. This feeling was love, or the beginnings of love. She had not known what to call it at first, but it most certainly was unlike anything she had ever known in her life. It had happened before she could put a name to it. She loved him. It was young, tentative, and fragile, but it was love.
Instead of finding a reason to leave, she wanted nothing more than to find a reason to stay. Only now, she had to tell him the truth. She had to tell him all of it. He had a right to know about her past if there was any chance for them. Physical intimacy was out of the question, and he had to know that.
Rayne knew, deep in her heart, that this type of marriage would not be enough for any man. She understood it was naïve of her to think he would be an exception, but she had nothing left to lose. Somehow she had to find the courage to tell him. It was not going to be easy. Rayne did not want to go into marriage without telling him she could not have children and why she could not risk intimacy. It should be up to him if he wanted to wed her or not.
It would be hard to tell him, but she must. She had rejected telling him early on as a way to get him to kick her out, and now, though she felt better about telling him, she feared the same outcome. Opening up was not something she did easily, but right now everything seemed different. She had found love, and something may take it from her, but she could never live with herself if she did not tell him. It would mean losing him, but at least she now knew she could love.
He wanted a family more than anything, sons of his own blood. She could see no way for this to work out, but she had to cast her stones and see where they may land. She might end up in a convent, and no matter how many times she had wished for that life, she hadn't really meant it. If she waited any longer, the situation would only get more complicated.
Nay, she must tell him now. All of it.
After an hour, the entire floor was clean and new reeds were laid down. She decided to lie down for a rest before she sought him out. It was far better to get it over with than to suffer through wondering what he was going to do. Whatever the case, she owed him the truth.
Hours later she woke to the sound of thunder. The room had darkened dramatically, and she was not sure what time of the day it was or even where she was for a moment. Rising, she went to her window to see trees in the distance, bending to the will of the winds. The first sparse, heavy drops of rain would soon hit the dry earth. Spring showers were always beautiful, even when the downpour transformed the ground to mud. The rains meant flowers and green grass soon, and the end to the winter gloom.
Instead of looking for Andre as she had planned, she sought out Hamon and Jenri. They were playing near the window in the nursery. She watched them without drawing attention to her presence. They had a pile of stones on the floor, and they were taking turns tossing them out the window. Aliza was on her bed asleep — probably unaware the boys had woken from their nap before her. Rayne thought the game was harmless at first, until she heard a torrent of foul language coming from below.
"Jenri! Hamon! What are you doing?" she asked.
The boys jumped at the same time and scurried away from their position just under the window. Jenri hid, but Hamon stood up and came before Rayne. "We were just playing with Old Rog, the gardener, 'tis all."
Foul language came again as Rayne walked to the window and peered down. They were indeed playing with the gardener, but he looked none to happy. He was digging up the planting beds that ran along the side of the great hall. He had three buckets of water with him to aid in planting, though what he was planting she did not know.
"Keep those kids outta me work!" he yelled up at her. "They be tossing rocks in me water while I be working. The lord would be unhappy should I not be done by sunset."
Suppressing a giggle, Rayne pulled her head back in the window. Jenri was out of hiding and standing next to his brother. "Boys! You should not worry the gardener so much. He does not understand you are just having fun, and besides, he's working in the in the raindrops just to please Lord Andre, so maybe you should leave him be."
As if to punctuate her words, a clap of thunder sounded and a streak of lightning lit up the room momentarily. Another string of foul language came from below, but this time the old gardener was talking to the sky. Rayne peeped out to see the old guy give up and run for cover.
"We are sorry, milady. We were bored and we got into trouble. That is what Aliza says," Hamon said.
"Indeed. Well, how about if I teach you a great game to play when you are stuck indoors?"
"Aliza just tells us to sit still when we cannot play, but it is hard," Hamon said, putting full emphasis on the last word.
"I know 'tis hard for a boy of your age to remain still," Rayne said. "Can you stay still for just a few more minutes until I return?"
Hamon nodded and shifted his gaze to Jenri, who shyly nodded his assent as well.
Rayne ran down the passageway to her room. She threw open her trunk and pulled out something she had almost left behind when she came to Cuxton. She balled it up in her hands and went back to the nursery, a flood of memories following her.
"This is what I used to do when I was a child. I would play with all the children in the nearby village. We would play for hours and have high stakes. The winner once got a chicken, though the adults came to take it back once they found out."
Hamon laughed with glee, and Jenri's eyes widened as he stared at her in awe. Rayne shook open the balled-up cloth in her hand and spread it on the floor. She asked the boys to gather a few of the stones from the pile they had abandoned under the window. The linen was old and worn around the edges, but the squares were still bold and bright.
"How do we play?" Hamon said, examining the cloth lying on the stone floor. The stones in his hands clicked together as he held as many as he could at once.
"'Tis a lot of fun. All you do is choose a spot to stand, and then you guess where your rock will land when you toss it. It is not as easy as it looks though, so do not be too sure of yourself," she said and then winked at Hamon. "The winner is the first to guess right ten times."
"Ten! I just learned to count to ten," he said as he handed a few stones to Jenri. "Would you like to go first?"
Keeping his head down, Jenri nodded. He squatted down and pointed a chubby finger to a square, stood up, and then tossed his rock. He missed, but a smile played on his lips. He gazed at Hamon expectantly, who then took his turn.
As the boys played, Rayne studied Jenri. He had still not spoken a word in front of her. She knew him to be shy, but she wondered if he ever spoke to anyone. A boy of about four years should be testing out his new vocabulary and talking non-stop. This one, however, was almost a mute.
Aliza woke and stretched before rising from her pallet. The rain was still heavy, but the thunder had lessened, and the storm was moving away. Once the nursemaid realized she had been sleeping while the boys were awake, she bolted out of her bed and studied them.
"They are fine, Aliza, but mayhap you should make sure you are awake when they are. If you need some time for a nap, you can always find me to stay with them for you."
Color drained from the girl's face as she realized she had been neglectful of her duties. "Oh dear, you are right, milady. Please, do not tell Lord Andre. I will do better, I promise."
"I am not telling him anything, for there is nothing to tell. Just remember you have help if you need it. I will be off then," she said as she rubbed both boys on the head and left the nursery.
She did not get far before Andre found her. "Where have you been?" he asked.
"I was with Jenri and H
amon."
"They are well? I have not had time to seek them out yet today."
"Aye, they are. I taught them a game to keep them from mischief, though I do not know how long it will keep them busy. They were pestering Rog. They meant no harm."
"They are to learn to leave those at labor alone, I hope you spoke with them about that."
"I did. They are young yet, Andre. They will learn these things at times by mistakes."
"Agreed. They are growing restless. I have kept Hamon from starting lessons with the priest each day so Jenri may catch up. They are only a year apart in age. I thought if they started together it would be more fun for them. I never had fun with my lessons. Many days I was so bored I would compose stories in my mind while the priest droned on and on. They should do better if they start together. But I worry about Jenri. He has not spoken in some time. He may say a word or two, but that is rare."
"Has he always been that way?" she asked.
"His language was progressing normally until Geva died. He has not recovered, I fear. What is puzzling is she never spent much time with him. I do not understand why her death hit him so hard. I have asked Aliza to encourage his speech, but he remains as he was."
Rayne felt a tear slide down her cheek. "Those poor boys, to lose their mother so young. Hamon seems to be well, but aye, I agree about Jenri. He needs to speak again."
"Come," Andre said. He led her out into the bailey and away from the hall. The rain was now gone, and the ground was wet. The sun shone brightly, and the air was humid. He slowed as he went toward the gatehouse and beckoned for her to continue to follow.
"Milord?"
"I want to take you up atop the wall. 'Tis not done yet, but we can walk. I want to talk to you about a few things you should know before I leave. We can have privacy there, at least more than we can have in the hall."
Nodding, she followed him across the outer bailey, sidestepping newly minted puddles as she went, and followed him into the inky darkness of the gatehouse. They went up the narrow stone steps, which led upward in a spiral, until they came back out into the sunshine. The stones were still wet and glistened in the sun. The birds sang again, and the clouds had passed.
"My fondest wish," he said as she caught up and walked beside him, "is you embrace the boys and be a constant for them while I am gone."
"Of course."
Andre pointed to the unfinished part of the wall, explaining what was left to do. She tried to keep up with his quick pace. As they neared a tower on the south wall, he stopped. He took both her hands in his when she caught up.
"I want to tell you more about Geva."
"Nay. I beg you to stop causing yourself pain. Besides, 'tis none of my business."
"But it is because you will be mum to those boys."
Dropping one hand, but holding firmly to the other, he continued. "She jumped from the wall, but had left us long before that. It was not long after we wed when she withdrew into a world only she understood. She made everyone nervous, so much so a few servants begged to be released from bond. I did so. I found even I did not trust her and rarely allowed her to be alone with the children, not that she cared. There were two nurses then, one of which has since left to marry."
"Was she always as such?" Rayne asked. "I saw her at court. She seemed fine."
Andre followed the flight of a bird with his eyes. "Nay, she was not. Though I will tell you, she was not what I thought her to be. She came to me a widow as I was told, with two small boys. Geva was sweet enough, and a beauty, but she often mumbled in her sleep. At times she spoke of doing evil and would often beg for forgiveness. I do not know what riled her so, and I could not help her. Whatever distressed her, stayed with her and went with her into death."
"I do not know what to say."
"I tell you this because I want you to understand what the boys have known in their short lives. I feel you can change that, Rayne, for all of us."
She lifted her eyes to his. In that moment she was overwhelmed with indecision. A tingle began in her stomach and grew, running up her spine. Her hand trembled in his, and she never wanted to let go, yet she knew she may have no other choice. Her punishment, perhaps, for being unable to bear children.
"There is something I wish to tell you," she said in a husky whisper, choking on her words as she struggled to get them out. 'Tis important you hear what I have to say."
He said nothing; his expression remained noncommittal and open.
"I fear what I have to say will change how you feel about me, and you will no longer wish to be wed."
"I am not sure anything would change my mind, Rayne. I look forward to being married to you."
"That is what I mean! You must listen before we go any further..."
"There is nothing you can say to change my mind. You came into my life smelling of manure — too timid to say you wished to leave, yet too smart to outright leave on your own. You were determined to repel me, but in an odd way, that was what drew me to you. I see a woman who is stronger than she thinks, one who cares for those around her with a big heart, a heart with room for more. Rufus sent you to me, and I am pleased with his choice. You see, for once, the man has done something right."
"You do not know me," she said, tears now falling in earnest. "You do not know me at all. I have lied to you. I am a broken woman, and I am not the best choice for your wife. What you must realize is… I cannot give you what you want."
"Pretend you feel nothing, Rayne." His eyes darkened, and he stepped closer to her. "I do not want to play games any longer. You are to be my wife, and nothing you say can change that."
Before she could move away, his lips sought hers. She did not have a chance to move away or deny him. His lips parted hers as a gasp escaped. The heat of his breath warmed her as she was pulled under a fog. As if they had a mind of their own, her arms wrapped around him. He felt strong and sturdy, stable. He pulled her closer still.
Rayne felt dizzy, her legs weak. She fell against him as the kiss deepened. This felt right. It was everything she thought love should be, everything her first husband was not. She never wanted to leave this land, this spot, and his arms. If she were to die right now, she would die a happy woman.
His hand settled gently upon her hip and slowly moved to the small of her back. His strong fingers dug in just a bit, as if to hold her to him. She sunk in as close as she could, returning his kiss with an urgency she had never felt before.
Footfalls jarred her back to reality. She gasped as she pushed away, embarrassed to have been caught in such a private moment. The blinding sun reminded her of where she was, still atop the curtain wall. Though the spot was intimate and the view spectacular, they were not alone.
A red-faced soldier stopped short. "I-I-I am s-s-sorry, m-m-milord," he stuttered.
"Get on about it!" Andre said, and the man kept walking.
"Where were we?" he said, his arm sliding around her waist. Rayne stiffened, and the smile fled his face. "Is something wrong?"
"I cannot do this right now," Rayne said, panic edging her voice, "I…"
"Stay, please. There was something you wanted to tell me?"
"I need to go," she said, breaking out of his hold. "I wish I could be different." She ran all the way back to her room where she secured her door. Whether she was keeping herself in or him out, she did not know.
She had come so close, and yet she could not find the right way to express her new feelings for him. Speaking the truth aloud was now her struggle. She had decided to tell him, yet the words would not flow. Fear clouded her mind as she stood near the wall behind her bed. Conflicting emotions pelted her like tiny balls of ice, until she was unable to stand still. Slowly she paced, her mind a riot of longing and self-doubt.
She felt love for him, and yet she could not find the courage to let it be real in her life. Letting him into her heart was going to be harder than she thought. In her mind, the fantasy of being loved was just that – a fantasy. Rayne struggled to do more than
think about it. In that moment when he had kissed her, she came close, but the old voice in her mind had warned her she was not worthy.
Chapter Fourteen
Nearly a week had passed without any word from Tillie. Andre was beginning to think the woman had made up a wild tale just so she could leave and never return. A different feeling settled on his relationship with Rayne. He did not understand her erratic behavior. He had shown her more patience than he thought he possessed, and would continue to do so until Tillie returned. If the woman truly knew something, which may be of vital importance to Rayne, he felt he owed it to himself to wait it out. If Tillie returned and nothing changed, he knew his patience would run out.
Patience had never been his strong suit, and he feared it was part of the reason why he had not been able to save Geva. Now, he offered all the patience he had to Rayne. She brought something to his life he never knew he wanted. The lady was full of surprises and possessed a spirit stronger than Geva had ever had. He just had to find a way to reach her. If she would just open up, he would help her face whatever it was she feared.
He did not know how long he could go on with a dark secret between them. It was as if they were going nowhere. There was a false peace in the air and neither spoke of it. Until the air was clear between them, the future seemed murky. It was putting a strain on him when he needed to think about the demands of the king.
Rayne had begun to avoid being completely alone with him, but she did spend time with the boys and walked with Andre each night after supper. He took her hand as they strolled about the grounds, but respected her wish to stay at arm's length. She had not asked, but he knew that was what she wanted. They chatted during meals, and she sat with him when they had a few moments to linger after eating. He told her more about the castle and some of his more innocent war stories. Some nights they enjoyed music or a reading after supper, sitting together in the hall. To an outsider, it would have seemed an ideal existence.