Hatred.
It was heartbreaking to watch.
“You know,” Patrick said thoughtfully, “you could always go and see him. He is only in Cumbria.”
Troy shook his head firmly. “Nay,” he said flatly. “He left me. I am not going to follow the man around like a lost puppy. If he wants to come to me, then he knows where I am. But he does not want to come. The sooner I get that through my skull, the better I’ll be. The better we’ll all be.”
Patrick put his hand on Troy’s shoulder. “I think you need to be patient a little longer,” he said. “Clearly, Scott is not as strong as you when it comes to dealing with his grief. You must have pity for a man who would run from everything he knows, trying to find a measure of peace. You cannot hate him for it.”
Troy just stood there, looking at his shoes and wringing his hands together, trying to warm them in the freezing temperatures. But it was also a nervous tick; he was so very hurt by his twin’s behavior over the years, a man he’d been closest to in life. He always thought he knew Scott better than he knew himself, but the deaths of their wives had seen that change drastically. The ironclad bond they’d always shared had rusted and fractured.
The truth was that Troy only felt like a half a man these days. He was devastated to realize that he’d feel like that for the rest of his life.
“Whatever happens, Scott has done it to himself,” he said quietly, struggling to calm his anger because he could see people gathering at the keep door. He didn’t want them to see him as an emotional mess. “I had no hand in it. Do me a favor, Atty.”
“What is it?”
“Do not speak his name to me ever again. Will you do this?”
Patrick felt a great deal of sorrow at that request. “Troy…”
“Please, Atty. Never again. I… cannot….”
It was a plea. Patrick was wise enough to recognize that. Not only had Troy lost his wife in that accident, but he’d also lost his twin. For all intents and purposes, they were both dead to him and he was still trying to work through the pain of it all. Reaching out, Patrick put a hand on Troy’s shoulder.
“If you wish it,” he whispered. “But know this… I will never leave you, Troy. I will never run from you. I will always be here for you, no matter what.”
Troy looked at his brother, younger by eighteen months, and he forced a smile. Unable to reply for the lump in his throat, he simply coughed, clearing his throat and struggling to regain his composure as people began to spill through the open door of the keep, heading towards the warm and festive great hall. Troy and Patrick stood back as guests and family spilled forth in great, colorful groups.
First came Paris and Caladora, and their children. Paris already had a cup of warmed wine in his hand, something he was loathed to surrender even though his wife had asked him to. He drank it in complete defiance of his wife’s wishes. Behind the parents, Hector, Apollo, and Adonis came forth with their respective wives, followed by the youngest de Norville daughter, Cassiopeia, holding hands with Penelope de Wolfe.
As Penelope walked by her older brothers, Patrick reached out and tugged on her braid, causing the girl to shriek angrily. When she looked at him accusingly, he pointed to Troy, who held up a fist as if daring the girl to fight him. In a snit, Penelope turned her nose up at him and marched off.
Grinning at each other for having successfully harassed their baby sister, Troy and Patrick continued to stand there as the de Wolfe family emerged. It was William and Jordan leading most of their offspring, including the younger brothers, Edward and Thomas, and daughter Katheryn, who was married to Alec Hage. Behind the de Wolfe family came a variety of guests, including the Earl of Teviot, Adam de Longley, and his wife, several knights serving de Longley, and several other men who were allied knights of de Longley and de Wolfe.
It was quite a parade of well-dressed, important people, but the Hage family was last, bringing the bride and groom with them. Kieran had hold of Rose, possessively, while James came along behind them, looking rather left out as Kieran and Jemma fussed over their daughter. As James passed by Troy and Patrick, they fell in on either side of him, essentially escorting their brother to his wedding.
Father Bernardo and Father Stephen were waiting for the wedding party at the entrance to the great hall, standing in the arched doorway to begin the mass. Usually, marriages were performed at the doorway to the church but, in this case, it would have to be the great hall. As Rose and James took their places in front of the priests to receive the blessing and have the ceremonial ribbon to bind their hands together, everyone watched with approval and with awe, witnessing the marriage of a couple who were very much in love.
It was a beautiful, touching ceremony from the start.
In the midst of the droning Latin and the ringing of small bells, Troy and Patrick caught a glimpse of their parents up at the front of the crowd; Jordan was weeping with joy while William had a tight hold of Penelope, clinging to his youngest child as he watched James get married. It seemed to Troy that his father needed something to hold on to as another de Wolfe child left the nest. God help them all when Penelope married. But it also made Troy reflect back on the day he married his first wife, Helene, because it was in a group much like this one.
Warm memories enveloped him as he thought back to that balmy summer’s day. It had been the first marriage in both families and Paris had wept uncontrollably through the entire ceremony, losing his daughter as he was. Troy grinned to himself as he remembered Helene, usually a cool and calm character, telling her father to stop weeping like a woman. When he wouldn’t stop, she started weeping, too. Because she was weeping, her mother and sisters started weeping until there wasn’t a dry eye in the church.
Troy still laughed about that.
He was so caught up in his reflections of that bittersweet day that before he realized it, the ceremony was over and everyone was moving into the great hall where a vast feast awaited them. With the wedding concluded, the festivities were beginning and Troy was the last one behind Patrick to filter into the great hall.
As soon as he walked in the door, however, Penelope was standing just inside the doorway with a piece of kindling she’d taken from the hearth. As Patrick stepped through, she whacked the man on the knee, causing him to falter. Troy was swift enough to miss the kindling that came flying at him, which he grabbed and turned on Penelope. But Penelope screamed and ran to her father, pointing out that Troy was trying to beat her with a stick, much to William’s disapproval.
So much for Troy and Patrick having the last laugh.
As Penelope smirked, Troy and Patrick plotted their revenge on an eight-year-old girl. But it would have to wait until a time she would least expect it. At the moment, she was on her guard, so Troy and his brother retreated to the long feasting table that contained the newly married couple and most of the families. All was happy and bright as the food began to make its rounds and the wine flowed freely.
The fare for the wedding feast was quite extensive – sides of aged, dried beef had been roasted or boiled, along with fowl, winter vegetables, oat cakes with honey, and a variety of nuts, peas, beans, and copious amounts of bread. It was truly a feast for a king and several of Questing’s soldiers, who happened to play instruments, formed a minstrel group in one corner of the hall and began to play loudly.
It was smoky, loud, and warm in the feasting hall as James and Rose were repeatedly toasted. As more good wishes went around the hall, Hector, Apollo, and Alec Hage made their way down the table to sit with Troy and Patrick, senior knights and commanders who had grown up together and had faced both life and death together. The men toasted the married couple, coming up with more toasts as they went along. Very quickly, there was some drunken laughter going on as the expensive and sweet wine flooded their veins.
It was truly an evening to remember.
Troy had forgotten about his absent twin, instead, enjoying the camaraderie that he did have – his brothers, his dear friends and cous
ins. There were many of them, men he loved dearly, and thoughts of Scott faded as the hours passed. He was more interested in listening to Hector and Apollo, very humorous men, tell stories about their adventure in a seedier part of London when they’d gone there on business with their father. Something about a whore with no hand who used her stump in ways better left unsaid, as Hector explained it, but Apollo swore she was very good with that stump. It was all quite funny and Troy laughed more than he’d laughed in a very long time. He was moderately drunk, and enjoying himself quite a bit, when he looked down the table and caught the expression on his father’s face.
As if the man had seen a ghost.
Suddenly, things weren’t so funny and Troy was concerned with his father’s expression. William was looking at the hall entry, but Troy had his back to it. He was about to turn and look to see what had his father so rattled when his mother suddenly screamed and leapt out of her seat, rushing around the table towards the entry door.
In fact, several people were gasping with surprise, with shock, and James and William actually bolted to their feet. It was then that Troy turned to see what had them all so excited.
It was a sight he never thought he’d see ever again.
“Scott,” Troy heard Patrick whisper.
Scott!
Troy could hardly believe his eyes. Was the wine playing tricks on him? He closed his eyes and shook his head, but when he opened his eyes again, Scott de Wolfe was still standing in the hall entry, bundled up heavily against the freezing temperatures.
It was really him.
When Troy realized it was no apparition, he felt as if he’d been hit in the stomach. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. All he could do was stare. Patrick was already out of his seat, moving to the hall entry just as the rest of the de Wolfe family was, and Troy could hear his mother weeping as she threw her arms around her Prodigal Son.
God, they were painful tears, tears of joy and yet sorrow. Four years of longing, of waiting and wondering, had finally come to an end for Jordan and all of the emotion she’d kept bottled up for those years was bursting forth.
Scott had come home!
The joy, the surprise, was contagious. The entire table began gravitating in Scott’s direction at this point, everyone moving to greet the son that had run off those years ago. Troy actually lost sight of Scott as the man was bombarded by people who were so very happy to see him, so anxious to greet him.
All except Troy.
He was virtually the only one left at the table because he simply couldn’t make himself go to the man. As shocked as he was to see him, it was shock compounded with all of the bitterness and resentment he’d been feeling. Those emotions were always close to the surface when it came to Scott. But now with the man’s surprising appearance, they were stronger than they’d ever been.
All he could feel now was loathing.
And he wasn’t going to go running to the man and welcome him back, pretending that everything was all right, pretending that Scott hadn’t hurt people with his cowardice. When he’d run out, he’d taken the guts of his parents and everyone else who loved him and stomped on them. Now, here he was, returned because he received an invitation to his brother’s wedding. Or was it something else?
Was he here to ruin Christmas for them all?
Well, Troy wasn’t going to put up with it. He simply turned around, collected his cup of wine, and pretended not to care. But that wasn’t good enough. He could still hear people welcoming Scott. Everyone was so happy about it. He could hear his Uncle Paris’s voice above all. The man was ecstatic. That kind of joy sickened and disgusted Troy. Didn’t they remember what Scott had done to them all?
Didn’t they realize he had made a conscious choice not to be part of the family?
But Troy realized it. He realized what everyone else did not. Slamming his cup down, he vacated the table and slipped out of the hall from the servant’s alcove.
Out in the crisp, black night, he moved away from the hall and the festivities, struggling to get a rein on his emotions. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going; he was simply walking, putting distance between himself and the great hall where his Prodigal Brother had returned. He didn’t want to see him; he couldn’t see him. All of those people were gleefully willing to forget Scott’s selfishness, but Troy wasn’t.
He wasn’t willing to forget anything.
Somehow, Troy found himself in Questing’s long, slender chapel. The front half of the structure was the church while the back half of it was a burial crypt. Scott’s wife, Athena, and their two children, Beatrice and Andrew, were buried there, right next to Helene and her two children, Arista and Acacia. The women were lying head to head in their separate crypts, close in death as they had been in life.
Troy wandered into the rear of the chapel, going to Helene’s crypt, which was something he did every time he visited Questing. His new wife, Rhoswyn, had visited Helene, too, so it wasn’t unusual for Troy to be here. These days, he felt peace with it, like visiting an old friend. But now, he was here to talk to the dead. He didn’t want to talk to anyone living at the moment.
They wouldn’t understand.
Helene’s crypt had a beautifully carved effigy of her holding her two daughters in slumber and at her feet lay a wolf. Carved into the base of the crypt were the following words –
Lady Helene, beloved wife of Troy
Arista – Acacia
They are simply sleeping
Troy stood there a moment, looking at the effigy of his first wife. He had been here for her, even after death. He’d respected her memory, unlike his brother. Then, his gaze moved to Athena’s crypt and he wandered over to it. Her effigy was nearly the same, only she had her two children on either side of her, arms around them both. At the base of her crypt was inscribed:
Lady Athena, beloved wife of Scott
Andrew – Beatrice
Angels on earth, angels in heaven
Troy sighed heavily as he looked at his sister-in-law’s crypt. The more he looked at it, the more angst he felt.
“He’s returned, Tee,” he said quietly. “Can you believe it? I just saw him standing in the great hall. James has married, you know. I do not know if your mother or father have told you, but James married Rosie today. The entire family was here except Scott, but he just showed up. Everyone is welcoming him home as if he is a long-lost hero.”
Even as he said it, he could hear his bitterness in his voice. So much anger. He put his hands on Athena’s crypt, distress in his expression.
“I never told you how sorry I was for what he did,” he said hoarsely. “When you and Bee and Andy were brought back, someone should have been there for you. Scott should have been there for you. He was your husband, was he not? But he left you to die alone, to be buried alone. He left it to the rest of us to try to fill that hole, but we could not. Scott was such a coward that he ran away and left everything behind. Now, he has come back and I do not know what to do. I am not sure I can overcome what he’s done.”
Those last few words were the crux of the situation. Too much sadness and resentment had built up in Troy for him to adequately handle what he was feeling. He moved to stand between the two crypts, leaning against Helene’s crypt as he put his hand on the head of Athena’s effigy.
“I have gone my entire life believing my brother was the most noble, moral man alive,” he muttered. “He could do no wrong in my eyes. He was perfect and I adored him. But when he ran… that made me see him differently. That made me see how weak he truly was and, try as I might, I am still having trouble accepting that the man I loved most in this world, the man I thought I knew better than anyone, is a coward. Is that to be his legacy? That he ran away when you and the children needed him most?”
“Do you want to know why I ran away?”
A familiar voice filled the dark, musty air of the burial vault and Troy turned to see Scott standing just inside the doorway that led from the nave.
For
a moment, Troy simply stood there and stared at the man, a million thoughts and emotions running through his mind. But he couldn’t seem to grasp one, nor speak one. He couldn’t seem to bring forth those words of hatred or condemnation when he needed them most. But as he looked at his brother, the wall of composure he’d kept up was starting to come down, stone by stone. He could feel the angst in his chest bursting forth and it was difficult… so very difficult… to keep a rein on what he was feeling.
“What are you doing here?” he finally asked. “How did you find me?”
“Papa thought you might have come here.”
Troy grunted, returning his gaze to the crypt. “And so, I did,” he said. “I never thought I would see you ever again.”
Scott de Wolfe took a step into the vault, and then another. Whereas Troy was dark-haired and rather swarthy looking, Scott took after their mother’s side of the family, with honey-blond hair and hazel eyes. He was riveted to his twin, a man he hadn’t seen in four years and, suddenly, four years of longing and pain and confusion seemed to come to a rapid head. Seeing his brother was emotional enough, but seeing the contempt in his brother’s eyes was more than his soul could bear. At this moment, at this blessed moment, Scott had to say what he’d been waiting four years to say, whether or not Troy wanted to hear it.
He’d come all this way to say it.
“I can imagine that you thought so,” he said huskily. “I am equally sure that you are not anxious to do so. I do not blame you, Troy. I do not fault you for anything you are feeling towards me. But for my own sake, I must tell you why I ran that day.”
Troy was starting to tremble, his emotions getting the better of him. He pointed to Athena’s effigy. “Do not tell me,” he said. “Tell her. Tell Tee why you ran off like a coward instead of remaining with her like you should have. The woman had to be buried alone, for Christ’s sake, because her husband was nowhere to be found. Do you have any idea how horrible that was?”
A Very Medieval Christmas: A Medieval Romance Novella Bundle Page 4