CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Hope Nichols was a patient woman. And a determined one. As autumn approached and the household began to prepare for winter she acknowledged to herself that she’d stumbled upon the life she’d always wanted, when and where she’d least expected. Well, almost. She was mistress of a beautiful home and had a handsome husband who stirred her blood with just a glance, but there was still the small matter of the king and her inevitable recall to court. And though she was deeply in love, he’d never said that he loved her.
Since the night he’d refused to talk about himself, there’d been a growing darkness about him, as if her questions had pulled something dangerous to the surface. Responding to the need she saw in his eyes, she did her best to fill their time with happy moments. He moved into her room, and now every night she enjoyed him in their bed. There lovemaking was hot and fevered. She awoke in the mornings, her hair and bedclothes rumpled, her body ripe and sated, her limbs tangled with his.
They talked of Cressly and the household, their likes and dislikes, shared their opinions on matters large and small, and the more they learned about each other the closer they became. But they avoided any mention of her return to court, or anything connected to Robert’s past, and it left a gaping hole between them. One Hope had never noticed or minded with other men.
September was a busy month. Whooper swans, ducks, and geese came to stay the winter, while swallows and martins rose into the sky to start their journey south. As the first bright leaves began to tumble to the ground, the larders were stocked, blankets were mended and on St. Mathew’s Day, Nottingham held its justly famous Goose Fair. After five days of shopping and gawking and celebration, Hope returned to Cressly with her husband and retired to her room, exhausted. The night was damp and though it was an extravagance, someone had left a roaring fire. She slipped into a bed gown and settled in with a glass of brandy to enjoy the blaze.
She grinned when she felt the mattress shift behind her, and gasped in delight when cool fingers slipped a lustrous pearl necklace around her neck.
“It was my mother’s,” he stated simply, but his breath was warm on the back of her neck. “She meant me to give it to my wife.” Those few simple words spoke volumes. She threw herself in his arms and tears stained her cheeks.
“It’s supposed to make you happy,” he said with a rueful smile.
“I know. I am. It’s lovely, Robert!” She hastily wiped away her tears on the sleeve of her gown.
“Good!” He stretched out beside her and tugged gently on her hair. “When you cry it’s hard to tell. I know you’re used to finer but—”
“No. I’ve never received a finer gift. Or a gift that meant so much.”
He shifted uncomfortably but didn’t deny it. Her good nature and enthusiasm for life had melted much of his reserve, but guardedness remained a deeply ingrained habit. He knew he’d been distant lately, though he felt closer to her than anyone. The necklace was a way to show her how special she was.
“It frightens me to say this, Robert, but I have never been happier.”
It startled him to hear her echo his own thoughts. He knew what she meant exactly. “Neither have I. It’s like a lovely vision. One is afraid to reach for it or try to hold it, lest it shimmer and disappear.”
“Is it that fragile, do you think?”
“No. It’s that precious.”
He kissed her cheek, her nose, her eyelids. “Hope…I am going to have to leave Cressly for a week...two at most.”
“What?” She lifted her head, searching his face, her dismay clear. “But what if…” What if Charles sends for me? If he meant to recall her to court, they might hear from him anytime now. He would want the thing done before winter came and the roads became too difficult for travel. She would hear from him within the next month, or else not before the spring.
“I have important business in the north. It simply cannot wait.”
“I see. Might I inquire as to this important business?” Her voice held a definite touch of frost, but underneath she blinked back hot tears. He had promised her that if she was summoned to court he would stand with her. He had said he’d be her champion. How could he do that if he wasn’t going to be there? Did all men forget their promises so soon?
“There is a man I must see in Farnley Wood.”
“But what if Charles summons me?”
He gripped her shoulders. “It is a matter of grave importance, Hope. One that has weighed heavily on me for a very long time. If I miss this opportunity, I might not get another and it could put us all in danger. I will go by horseback and switch mounts along the way. I promised that I’d be there with you and I will. If he does summon you, delay him. Tell him you are ill.” I will finish with this and we’ll deal with Charles together. Trust me, Hope. But I have to do this. I have no choice.”
“Why?”
He answered her with silence.
“You have a door in your mind and heart that is closed to me. Why won’t you let me in?”
“Because some things are best left buried. I’ve seen things, done things, Hope. Things that are best left unsaid.”
A shiver traveled up her back. The way he said it. His voice and eyes now so remote. But she was not a timid woman. “Is it worse than what you know of me? Shall I tell you more? My mother sold me, yes, but when I told you I wasn’t a good actress I lied. I stayed with a man whose touch made my skin crawl and made him believe I liked it. I didn’t have the delicacy or decency to die of shock or heartbreak. I locked my soul in a gilded cage and I laughed, I joked, I thrived! What have you done that is so terrible? What is so much worse than that?”
“Can you not just take a chance and trust me?”
“ Can you not trust that I would understand?”
He sat up and reached for the bottle of brandy. It had to happen sooner or later, he supposed it might as well be now. “I have killed men, Hope, and would do so again.”
“Of course you have. Along with thousands of other men. I mean no offense, Robert. But that sounds rather squeamish for a soldier.”
He gave a short laugh and downed the fiery liquid in one swallow. “I am not squeamish, love. Do you really want to know what my business is in Farnley Wood?”
Something in his tone of voice made her hesitate, suddenly unsure. She snatched the flagon from his hands and poured herself another drink before answering. “Yes. I really want to know.”
“I go hunting.”
“Hunting? I don’t understand. How is that so—”
“I am hunting a man. I’ve discovered I can find him there. And when I do I will kill him. He is not the first. There have been others.” His voice was cold, devoid of emotion. He opened his fist, raising his fingers one at a time and she counted silently, one…two…three...four. “He will be the fifth.”
She stared at him, at a loss for words.
“You ask too many questions,” he said tiredly. “I have warned you repeatedly.” He moved to get up, withdrawing from the bed, the room, the conversation. Withdrawing from her.
She rallied and reached out to grab him, her hand on his arm like a vise. “No you don’t! You don’t get to give me that kind of answer and then get up and walk away. You must have a reason and I want to hear it. To kill in battle I understand. Even in a stupid duel. But to hunt a man and kill him, you make it sound like sport. I don’t believe it. What would that make you?”
“It makes me someone you don’t really want to know.”
She released his arm and leaned back on her elbows. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
Robert felt so cold inside. As brittle and hollow as the black ice that sometimes coated the river. It was as if the ugly things he kept at bay as he played at house with her had escaped their bonds, stronger than ever. He’d been battling to contain them ever since he’d received the latest missive from de Veres.
She patted the bed beside her. Her voluminous bed gown was loosely fastened, and the flames from the
fire seemed to lick her body, dancing along her outstretched leg, her forearms, the curve of her breast. He reached for her and she welcomed him, cradling his head in her arms.
“I had hoped, somehow, that I would never have to tell you. That Charles...this...it would all fade into the past and let us start our lives anew.”
Her hand moved to where his neck and shoulder joined, soothing with a soft caress. They lay quiet and still but for their breathing. It took him a while to speak.
“I am so damned tired of being alone with it, Hope, but I’ve no idea where to begin.”
“You don’t have to be alone. Just talk to me. Begin by telling me why.”
He sighed and rolled over onto his back. “But that, my love, is the hardest part. I have never spoken of it to anyone.”
Hope turned on her side, wrapping her body around him, waiting in silence for him to continue, filled with a powerful conviction as her hand rested on his chest. I love this man. I know this man. He is good and just and honorable. He would never harm an innocent and I’ve no fear of what he has to say.
Robert sighed and took her hand. “There were five of them. All younger sons. Royal cavaliers...drunken soldiers...who served the first King Charles. They were bored with their country posting and needed money for women and cards. They came here seeking treasure. The treasure of Cressly. They heard talk of it in the village tavern, and knew from the locals that my parents weren’t home.”
He gave a bitter laugh.
“The treasure of Cressly. It’s what my father called my sister. The treasure of Cressly was Caroline.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Oh, dear God!” Hope gasped in horror.
“I should have been at home to guard her. But it was Valentine’s Day. There was a girl in the village. I…. When I got home, Caroline was all alone with them. One of the household guards was murdered and the other had fled. They were convinced she knew where the treasure was and were trying to beat it out of her. She was crying, begging them…hurt and terrified. I went to get my father’s sword.”
“That monstrous one with the wolf’s head?” Her fingers traced his collarbone and she bent to kiss his throat.
He nodded, his eyes bright with pain. She knew in his mind he was back there. Determined to be with him, she pressed closer, resting her chin against his shoulder and wrapping her arm around his chest. “How old were you?” Her voice was gentle.
“Old enough to wield it. And big for my age. I bided my time, waiting an opportunity. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But one of them lost patience when she wouldn’t answer. They didn’t know she couldn’t. They…they tore at her clothes. She was kicking and screaming and one of them decided to silence her with his knife. I charged him and killed him. I don’t think any of them were more surprised than I was. It gave me hope and then….” His breath came in deep racking sighs. “Then she called out to me, telling me to run, and one of them, Harris, threw her hard against the wall. God, Hope! I heard her body breaking.”
“I’m so sorry, Robert,” she murmured, fighting back tears, holding him in a fierce grip.
He took several deep breaths, regaining control. When he spoke his voice was bleak. “I couldn’t move or breath but she managed to look at me. There was something in her eyes, as if she was pleading but I was too stunned to understand. Then I ran. I stopped to look back when I reached the doorway, but her eyes were closed and I knew she was gone.
“ Christ! He hurled his empty glass against the wall. “My sister died before my eyes and I couldn’t save her. I was supposed to be there to protect her but when she needed me I ran. The last thing she saw was my back turned away.”
“No, Robert! It wasn’t your fault. You were a boy. A grown man could not have saved her from five armed soldiers. You said yourself one of your household guard was dead and the others ran away. You tried to help her. You even killed one!”
“ I should have stayed.” It was barely a whisper.
“You would have died.”
“Then I should have. She was my sister. I should have died with her so she didn’t die alone. They were cronies of the king and it was soon made clear that justice would never be done. They were called before the court in Westminster Hall where they claimed it was an accident during a stupid drunken ramble. One of them even laughed and suggested she be added to their bill.”
She could feel his body vibrating with anger and continued stroking his hair.
“I would have preferred to see them humiliated, hanged, but if there was to be retribution it was clear I needed to see to it myself. I wanted to. I lusted for it. I practiced. I grew. When the war came I joined the Parliamentarian cause. It took me years to understand that Cromwell was no better, no worse, than the king. Men are men. No side lays claim to good or evil. War…killing…it’s a disguise that allows the monster within us to slip loose and roam free.”
“The monster within?”
“From what I’ve seen we all have one. Well…perhaps not you. My view is warped. It’s been my life for so many years.”
“What monster lurks within you?”
“I wanted more than just to kill them. I wanted to make them feel what they did to her. I wanted to make them cry and scream and plead. It was fierce within me. Jagged.”
“And did you?”
He sighed. “No. Other than an extra twist of the sword and telling them they died for Caroline’s murder it was not as I imagined. I had no taste for torture and they didn’t cower. I was little more than a boy and they were king’s cavaliers. They fought and spit and cursed. One laughed in my face before I killed him. We dueled. They died. It was very quick, with a battle raging all around.”
He reached for a drink that wasn’t there and Hope poured him another. “What is it like? To be a soldier and fight battle after battle?”
“Why do you ask these things?”
“Because they are a part of who you are. Because I don’t want to feel lonely, either, and I do when you lock so much of yourself away from me.” Because I love you.
“I don’t mean to, love.” Robert pushed himself up against the pillows and gathered her in his arms, kissing her throat and eyelids. “It’s not to shut you out it’s to protect you. I’ve seen so many things. Chilling, frozen moments. The kind you keep in your head always. It changes a man. My head is crowded with things I can never get rid of. They hound me and haunt me, one image after the next. I’ve seen women raped, children murdered and people seeking sanctuary in a church be burnt alive. At Naseby…our troops murdered Royalist camp followers defending themselves with cooking pots. At Bolton, Prince Rupert’s troops killed close to two thousand civilians. I couldn’t stop any of it.”
Now the dam was broken he couldn’t stop himself. “You want to know what it’s like? It was shocking at first. One is sickened and horrified, and then one grows accustomed or one dies. Your fellow dies beside you and you’re glad it wasn’t you. You feel guilty for feeling that, and invincible, too. It’s a very strange brew that leaves some men intoxicated, and some…disassembled.”
“What do you mean?”
“Unless a fellow puts blind trust and obedience in his leaders, or else stays drunk, like many do, one’s notions of right and wrong and what’s important and what is not all fall apart. A fellow questions God, his superiors and everything he believes.”
“Was that so for you?”
“I wasn’t there because I was a believer. I was there seeking vengeance. Through it all, I hunted. I took my sword and killed them one by one. All but Harris. When the king was defeated he went into exile. But he’s back in England now. ’Tis he who waits at Farnley Woods.”
“And this has been your business in London.”
“Yes. Now you know it all. Is it what you wanted to hear? Is it better now I’ve told you?”
“I don’t know, Robert. Is it?”
“It’s not something I ever thought to recount or discuss with a lady.”
“But we bo
th know I’m not one.”
“To me you are.” He was silent for a few moments. He didn’t see her smile. “It stirs things I’d rather leave buried, but I’m relieved I suppose. I expected you to react…with disgust and horror.”
“Why? Charles has allowed men to die for him, as his due. He revenged himself upon those who signed his father’s warrant, disguising it as politics. Prince Rupert, I’ve met him. He’s handsome and charming and loved by all. He kills without thinking. To him it’s a contest and the casualties are simply part of the score. Buckingham and Jermyn and many others kill each other over women or wounded pride. You killed armed men in battle seeking justice for you sister. I…I don’t know, Robert. Is it worse to kill a man for personal reasons rather than impersonal ones?”
He was silent for a moment. “I don’t regret killing them, though I feared it might shock you. I do regret what our forces did at Naseby and in Ireland and Scotland. How everywhere we went we seemed to tear England apart. Laying waste to villages, slaughtering civilians. I couldn’t have stopped it. I didn’t participate and I wouldn’t allow it among my men, but in pursuit of my prey I was there.”
“So you spent years doing something you didn’t believe in to avenge Caroline. Would she have wanted that? Would you have joined the army if she hadn’t died as she did?”
“I don’t know. As a child I had dreams of glory. What boy doesn’t? My father and his before him were both military men. It was expected—and I had a cool head and a talent for swordplay as a youth.”
“And if there’d been no war?”
“I don’t know what I would have done.” He blinked, looking lost. “What a wretched thing to say. It has swallowed my whole life. If I hadn’t married you I’d probably be off fighting as a mercenary right now.”
“I’m glad you’re not. I don’t think you are any more cold-blooded or detached than I am, and I don’t think that’s very good for a mercenary. And now that it’s over, there is still plenty of time to discover what you were really meant to do.”
Soldier of Fortune: The King's Courtesan (Rakes and Rogues of the Retoration Book 2) Page 23