by The Prisoner
Constance stared at the consecrated ground and tried not to shiver. “I will come with you,” she said, trying to make her voice firm.
“Constance.”
She squeezed his hands. “I—I don’t know why, but I feel I must. Please?”
Brian gave her a look, but after a brief hesitation, he pulled her toward the hill.
Thinking to lighten the mood, Constance said, “When I was a young girl, I thought spirits walked there.”
“They do.”
Constance froze. “What?” He surely jested, and yet his expression was completely serious.
“Not the kind you think,” Brian explained. “You won’t see any headless spirits or crying white ladies.”
Constance blew out the breath she held. “Well, then.”
“‘Tis a place fraught with heaviness and despair. But also, a feeling…” Brian shook his head. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just feel their presence.”
Constance nodded and walked up the hill once more, tamping down her nervousness.
Reaching the top, she was amazed at what a lovely place it was. Flowers were everywhere, and birds sang in the nearby trees. She felt no despair.
“Where to?” Constance asked when Brian hesitated at the small iron gate.
“Genevieve.”
Chapter Twenty
Brian knelt and picked up a stem from the mound. Fresh wild flowers had been laid upon his dead wife’s grave since his brief visit of a few days ago. Probably Trevor.
Releasing Constance’s hand, Brian spread his cloak on the ground for Constance to sit on. The morning air was crisp, but he ignored it in favor of her comfort. He waited for her to sit, and then he turned his attention to the grave.
Brian wasn’t sure what he would say. He’d never had a witness to his talks with Genevieve.
“How often do you come here?” Constance broke the silence.
“Not often enough,” he admitted. “You know what the worst part is?”
Constance shook her head, her green eyes curious.
“I can’t remember what she looked like.” Brian laughed low and bitterly. “She was my wife and I can’t even bring her image to my mind.”
“Brian.”
“I couldn’t give her what she wanted. I wouldn’t even try. I took her innocence willingly. Without a second thought. But when our fathers insisted we marry, I was furious.”
Constance touched his arm. “You were very young.”
“‘Tis no excuse. I hated her, Con. I absolutely despised her.” Brian hung his head. “I felt so trapped.” He growled low in his throat. “I didn’t know what trapped was then.”
Constance moved closer on the cloak and threaded her fingers through his.
“She only wanted me to love her,” Brian continued, “but I wouldn’t. Or couldn’t. I flaunted other women in her face and never once cared what Gen thought of it. She gave birth to my son and I can’t even describe her to you.”
“It does not help to berate yourself like this, Brian,” Constance told him.
“I used to come here once a year on her birthday. A grand gesture. Such arrogance.” Brian’s mouth twisted. “But the thing of it was, I dreaded those visits every year. I couldn’t wait to get them out of the way. I couldn’t stop thinking of myself.”
“Oh, Brian.”
This time he shrugged off her comforting touch. He didn’t deserve her sympathy.
“On that last day, it was her birthday. I was anxious to get my visit over with because I’d just received a missive from Katherine. Or I thought it was from her.” Brian ran his fingers through his hair. “But there’s something else, Con.”
“What?” she whispered. Her voice was so soft it might have been carried by a breeze.
But Brian was afraid to say the words out loud. Loathe to admit there might be reason to question his sanity. He finally looked away from the grave and into Constance’s eyes. They glistened with unshed tears.
“I can’t bring up Katherine’s face any more. Once, it was burned into my mind, the sight of her being killed. What could I have done differently? How could I have saved her? She haunted my dreams and my every waking moment. But no more.”
Brian glanced up at a hawk flying overhead. Its piercing cry broke the quiet stillness of the graveyard.
“All she needed from me was my help. She didn’t need another complication in her life. But I couldn’t…wouldn’t stay away. I had to have her. And at what cost? I didn’t make things better. I made them worse. I took the one thing she feared the most, Finius, and goaded him into killing her.”
“Brian, nay.” Constance was biting her lower lip, shaking her head vigorously.
Brian went on, heedless. “He killed her right in front of me. And I could do naught but watch.” He exhaled. “I used to believe seeing it over and over in my mind and dreams were just punishment for my sins. But even that is gone.”
“It’s been many years, sweetheart,” Constance said taking hold of his hand once more.
Brian nodded, but said nothing. He was drained of energy.
“Listen to me, Brian,” Constance urged, bringing her hand to his chin and forcing him to look at her. “You can look at what happened the way you have been if you want, but you can also look at it another way.”
“What way?” he asked.
“You gave Katherine the only happiness she ever knew. How much worse would her life have been had she never known your love?” Constance shook her head. “You cannot change the past, Brian. No matter how you would want to.”
“Lord, when did you become so wise?” Brian asked, holding her hand against his jaw.
Constance laughed, and shook her head. “I am hardly so. I am full of advice on everyone else’s troubles, but on my own…”
“You could, mayhap, speak to me of these troubles you have.”
“I know,” Constance replied with a nod. Her tears dropped freely onto the cheeks. “And I will, soon.”
“But not now.” Brian shook his head. “We have much in common.” He rose from the ground and helped her. She grabbed his cloak on the way up.
“Where to now?” Constance wondered.
Brian glanced in the direction of the graves belonging to his parents.
Constance followed his gaze. “Hugh?”
“I haven’t been there since I returned home.” Brian blew out a breath. “Agnes says he was proud of me, but how could he have been?”
“I am also certain he was,” Constance said, looping her arm with his. “He spoke often of you.”
“Are you certain it wasn’t to say, if only Brian could have been more like Nick?” Brian asked, only half-jesting.
“Positive. Hugh loved all of his sons equally. I saw no favorites.”
“You were naught but a slip of a girl while he was alive,” Brian reminded her.
“It does not signify. I still know,” she insisted. She stood on her toes and kissed the edge of his mouth.
“Even still.” Brian stared at the graves, then turned away. “I will leave it for another day.”
“Are you certain?”
“Aye.” Brian steered her away and down the path.
Constance stopped when she reached the path overgrown with weeds. “What are these neglected graves?”
“They belong to the Loutrants who once lived here.”
“It looks like the weeds have been trampled on,” Constance remarked, pointing at the evidence.
“I know. I went there a few days ago.”
Constance met his gaze. “Why?”
Brian shrugged on his cloak. “Curiosity.”
“I see.”
“And I found something too.”
“Oh?” Constance asked.
“On one of the graves I found a ring,” Brian explained. He took out the insignia ring from a tiny slit in his cloak and handed it to her.
“‘Tis an L with a lion,” she whispered.
“Aye, ‘twas Loutrant’s,” Brian said, watch
ing her. “He had it on when he fell from the tower.”
Constance closed her hand around it and looked up, her face gone completely white. Her bottom lip trembled. “What, what does it mean?”
“I’d like to know the answer myself,” Brian replied, his tone grim.
****
His brother stared, no doubt wondering if he was mad. Mayhap he was, Loutrant decided.
He was certainly tired of being cooped up in the tiny cottage Marcus now called home. The rain outside was bashing against the flimsy furs covering the small windows of the sparsely furnished structure.
Loutrant sat at a lopsided wooden table. The shortest of the four legs had been propped up by a leather pouch. It did little to help. In front of him was an untouched goblet of spiced wine.
Two days before, he himself had stepped onto the Fitzroy lands. Loutrant lands, actually, he corrected himself. Damn the king who had taken them away from the Loutrants before him.
But kings were always treating Loutrants unfairly, weren’t they? All the years of loyal service he’d given Edward and how was he rewarded? Nicholas Fitzroy now resided in Loutrant’s castle.
Loutrant gripped the goblet stem hard, imagining it was the throat of his enemy. For a brief moment it represented Nicholas’s neck, but it was not long before the neck changed to his greatest enemy, Brian Fitzroy.
He’d seen him. When he’d walked the grounds of the blasted Fitzroys, Loutrant had noticed Brian and his foolish spawn, Trevor, on the battlements. If he’d only had an arbalest with him he would have taken the shot.
“Can I get you anything, Fin?” Marcus asked from his chair near the door.
“You can stop staring at me as though you expect me to reach up and pull my ears,” Loutrant snapped. “I want this rain to end!”
“It’s gotten harder,” his brother commented glancing toward the door. “Some of the villagers said their cottages were flooding. ‘Tis lucky this one is a bit raised.”
Loutrant loosened his grip on the goblet and leaned back in the chair. It was time to act. He was fast losing patience. He’d never been able to wait for anything he wanted.
And he was through playing games. No more dungeons. No more beatings or torture. No more scraps of the Loutrant insignia. Even his ring. All of it, it was time to end his own torment once and for all. When it was over, he cared not for his own fate. The goal was everything.
Every one of them was to die. The whore, Constance, who he’d taken to his own bed. Loutrant would see her death was very painful. But she would be the second to the last to die.
The spawn, Trevor, he would die right before Constance. Loutrant couldn’t wait to hear the boy beg for mercy.
And all the brothers. They’d go too. One by one. Aye, it would be the last of the Fitzroys.
But none of them mattered. They were all just ways to get to the victim who meant the most to Loutrant. Of all he wanted in this world. Had ever wanted. This was what mattered most.
He wanted Brian Fitzroy dead.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Why do you look so sorrowful?” Brian asked Constance.
They watched the king’s party disappear over the hill, banners flying behind them. The other Fitzroys had already gone back into the castle.
Constance could still see the riders in the distance. The king and his party had finished the midday meal with the Fitzroys a short time ago and then decided the king was well enough to continue their journey.
“I worry about His Majesty a little,” Constance admitted, lifting her face so the late afternoon sun could warm it. “He seems so sad.”
“His reign is not without difficulty.”
“I know,” Constance replied, remembering the tales of the murder of the king’s favorite. “He has always been very kind to me, to us. I feel sorry for him.”
Brian smiled crookedly. “You are soft-hearted. Come, ‘tis a beautiful day.” He took her hand in his as though to lead her somewhere.
“Where are we going?” Constance wanted to know.
“The falls.”
“The falls?” She repeated. “I have not been there since I was a young maiden.”
The waterfalls were actually not on Fitzroy property but just beyond it. They were a series of waterfalls creating a pool of water hidden amongst a grove of trees. The area was breathtakingly beautiful. Constance had been there only twice. Once with her mother and father and the second time with only her father because her mother had passed away. The day had been filled with such sorrow.
“Then ‘tis time to go again,” Brian announced, threading his fingers through hers. “There should be enough daylight left to go there and back before dark. If we ride.”
Constance allowed herself to be dragged to the stables. She had to admit she was becoming excited at the idea of sneaking away to the falls for a little play.
“I didn’t know you ever went there,” she said to Brian as he helped her to mount Valiant.
“I went there often, actually. Not always for innocent reasons, though.” Brian grinned.
Thinking about his escapades with other women was not the way she wanted to spend her afternoon, so she quickly pushed the offending thoughts from her mind. Brian was in a rare good mood and she intended to take advantage.
Brian swung up on Valiant behind her, his hands encircling her waist. She leaned into him, enjoying the feel of him against her. He inhaled the scent of her hair.
“Shall we ride?” he asked huskily after a moment.
To Constance his words seemed a double meaning. She nodded her agreement.
Brian handled the large horse well, especially considering his years of non-activity. She suspected he’d been practicing the skill as well.
A few of the Fitzroy guards they passed gave them strange looks, but most paid them little heed. No doubt used to seeing their lord riding about.
The day was perfect. Not too cold, not too warm. The sky above was crystal clear blue without a cloud to be seen. Unusual for this time of year, Constance knew.
Birds sang cheerful tunes around them. The wild flora gently swayed in the light breeze. It was as though God himself approved of their outing.
Entering through the small opening among the trees, Constance felt as though she were in another world. No one around them, complete solitude, and she welcomed it.
It had been so long since she’d come this way, Constance had forgotten the way the branches of the trees dipped down as though they were reaching out to embrace those who entered their home.
In amongst the giants, she could not even see the sky above. Brian had taken her into an enchanted kingdom.
Then he headed toward where the branches parted, Valiant steadily prancing in the direction as though he’d been there many times before. Constance wondered aloud if Brian had been there recently.
“Aye,” he replied. “Sometimes I come here to think.”
Constance warmed, gladdened he had decided to take her to an area he came to think. She’d never felt so close to anyone. She snuggled further.
They broke through the trees and faced the most breathtaking sight Constance had ever seen. Three waterfalls, one right next to the one before it, poured out into a circular pool. Above them were the sky and the warm afternoon sun. It reflected on the water in the pool.
“It’s so beautiful,” she whispered.
Brian nodded, resting his chin on her head. “Shall we swim?”
She turned, aghast. “Swim?”
Brian grinned. “Aye. Remove all our clothes and take a dip in the pool.”
“I—I don’t know how to swim,” Constance reluctantly admitted.
“I’ll teach you.”
“What if someone comes?” Constance asked, still hesitant.
Brian jumped easily from the horse and reached up to pull her down. “What if someone does?”
“Well…”
He laughed. “No one will come, Con. We are completely alone. Don’t you feel it?”
Con
stance returned his smile. Lord, had she thought the waterfalls were the most breathtaking sight she had seen? Even their beauty paled compared to that of his smile and his laugh. When had she heard him laugh so heartily?
“Very well. But will it not be cold?”
“Indeed it will,” Brian told her, sitting down on the soft dirt to remove his boots. “But we will dress in our warm cloaks and hurry home to the hearth afterwards.”
Constance laughed. “You have it all planned, don’t you?”
His dark eyes sparkled with warmth and mischief. “Wait and see.”
Shaking her head, Constance sat and started removing her slippers and her clothing.
“I hope I do not regret this.”
Brian grinned. “No doubt you will when you feel the chill of the water.”
“That is what I am afraid of,” she retorted. “That and you will let me drown.”
“Never,” he assured her, serious. “While I have breath, I will ever protect you.”
Her heart picked up its steady pace at his words. Lord, she did adore this man. But she wanted to lighten the mood she had invariably darkened. She reached out and tweaked his nose.
“Hey,” he yelped and swatted her hand. Then he pounced on her and started to tickle her ribs.
Constance was laughing so hard she could barely catch her breath.
“Pl-please stop,” she begged.
Brian released her, a triumphant smile on his handsome face. “I guess you’ll think twice about tweaking my nose, next time, eh?”
“Hmm.” Constance turned her back on him and removed the rest of her clothing.
With her clothes gone, she turned shyly toward him, covering her breasts and lower body.
“Lord,” Brian said, chuckling. “Do not tell me you are embarrassed. You are beautiful. Besides, I have seen it all.”
Constance threw one of her slippers in his direction. “You are still wearing your breeches,” she accused.
Brian divested himself of the offending material and stood naked in all his glory. It was difficult to look away. Since he’d been training, his muscles had grown more pronounced, his unnatural thinness had been replaced by toned, hard strength.