by Maya Banks
Graeme dropped his sword and ran.
As he rounded the corner, the scene before him made him stop in his tracks.
“Jesu,” Bowen breathed out. “ ’Tis true. She has gone mad!”
Graeme turned briefly to see that his brothers and most of the men who’d been assembled in the courtyard had followed. Then he jerked his attention back to Eveline who stood in the doorway to the keep, sword outstretched toward the women she was holding at bay, and a scowl etched on her lovely face.
In front of her, a group of women were steadily backing away from the door. Only one seemed to challenge Eveline. Kierstan, the same lass who’d dropped the ale on Eveline the night before.
Graeme could hear her shouting insults to Eveline, and Eveline bellowed loud enough for the entire keep to hear.
“OUT!”
God’s teeth, it had been she he’d heard. She’d spoken!
He ran the last of the way and pushed in front of Kierstan, inserting himself between her and Eveline. Kierstan immediately dissolved into tears and threw herself at Graeme.
“Oh thank God you’re here, Laird. ’Tis horrible. She’s threatened to kill us all. She’s mad, I tell you. She chased us from the hall. I don’t know what happened. She just yanked the sword from above the fireplace and came after us.”
Graeme glanced up at Eveline and at first, all he saw was the fury on her face and the tight scowl she wore. But then he saw into her eyes and saw fear and clear distress. As he studied her closer, he saw that her hands shook and she was doing all she could just to hold on to the sword.
“Eveline, put down the sword,” he said in a calm voice.
She shook her head, her chin coming up a notch. Then she pointed to the group of women and bellowed again.
“Out!”
Rorie pushed to the front of the ever-growing crowd. She gave Kierstan a look of pure disgust and then turned on Graeme.
“ ’Tis not her fault, Graeme. They’ve been horrible to her at every turn. They’ve hurled insult after insult and missed no opportunity to mock or demean her.”
“I don’t believe I made any such claim,” Graeme said mildly. “What I’d like her to do, however, is to put down the sword before she hurts herself.”
Graeme took a step forward, his gaze focused solely on his wife. “Eveline,” he said gently. “Please give me the sword. No one will hurt you. I swear it.”
She turned her gaze to the women still standing several feet away and her lips turned into a mutinous line. “Out,” she said again. Then her lips quivered and the firm line dropped. Deep sadness entered her eyes and they filled with tears. When she looked at Graeme again, there was clear defeat in her gaze.
It broke his heart.
Anger gripped him. At the moment, he cared not what his clan’s feelings were or whether they had the right to be angry over his marriage to an Armstrong. All he knew was that an innocent was being harmed by their words and actions, and he would stand it no longer.
He whipped around and stared at Kierstan and the other women gathered around her.
“Be gone,” he hissed. “All of you. You’ll not return to the keep. You’ll tend the fields or help in the cottages, but you’ll not serve in my keep any longer.”
Kierstan paled. The women around her gasped. One wrung her hands. Another burst into sobs. But all he could think of was his own wife, who was so near to tears because she’d been abused by his clan.
“Begging your pardon, Laird, but the keep needs the lasses for serving duties and also for the cleaning duties they hold,” said Nora, the senior woman charged with overseeing the women’s duties in the clan.
“Find other women,” Graeme snarled. “These will not set foot in the keep again, nor will they address my wife directly. If they disobey me, they will be cast out of the clan.”
Gasps and sounds of disbelief echoed through the crowd. Murmurs arose. Accusations flew. Their laird was siding with the Armstrong lass.
Even as he heard the statements, he turned to his brothers to gauge their reaction.
“You know you have my support, Graeme,” Teague said in a low voice. “ ’Tis obvious they’ve not made it easy for her. I’ll not go against your edict; moreover, I support it.”
Bowen took longer answering. He studied the group of women and then he turned his attention to Eveline and stared intently at her.
“She can speak,” Bowen said.
It wasn’t what Graeme had anticipated and for a moment Bowen’s statement took him aback.
Bowen turned his gaze to Graeme. “ ’Tis said the lass hasn’t spoken a word since her accident, and yet today she bellowed loudly enough to be heard over the entire keep. Whatever it was that forced her to break that silence must have been rather momentous, wouldn’t you say?”
“Aye,” Graeme said in a grim voice. “I’d say she suffered extreme upset to have broken her silence.”
Bowen stared thoughtfully at Eveline once more. “Perhaps then, her madness has also been exaggerated.”
Relief was crushing in Graeme’s chest. Both his brothers were siding with Eveline against his clan. He knew that if they wanted, it would be easy to turn his clan against him. One of them could even make a play for power, gain the approval and support of the clan, and take over as laird.
But they stood with him. With Eveline.
Graeme went to Eveline, close enough to reach out and cup her cheek. His arm was merely inches above the sword. Were she to make any sudden movement, she could take his arm off. She was wary of it, too. Her gaze tracked downward, and even as he touched her, she lowered the sword, letting it slide toward the ground.
“Give me the sword,” he said gently. “I do not want harm to come to you, Eveline. I won’t allow them back in the keep. They will not harm you further. They will not serve me again.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, and it made him ill that she’d be so shocked and seemingly in awe that he’d side with her over members of his clan. But then what other logical conclusion could she have drawn?
With shaking hands, she extended the sword. He took it from her and without looking down, held it back for his brother to take.
“Come inside,” he said, taking her hand.
She glanced at the assembled crowd with stricken eyes, and then she looked up at Graeme, sorrow so deep that he was swamped with it.
“S-sorry.”
The word came out raspy and rough sounding, but the fact that she was communicating with him sent excitement up his spine.
“ ’Tis no matter,” he said as he touched her cheek. “Let’s go up to our chamber. We’ll discuss things there, in private.”
She nodded, relief lightening her eyes. She turned and rushed ahead of him, as if she couldn’t wait to be away from the others.
When they reached his chamber, she opened the door, hurried in, and then held the door while he entered. As soon as he was inside, she closed the door and slid the sturdy piece of wood through the loop so that no others could enter. As if they would. He didn’t tell her that no one would dare enter his chamber without permission. It seemed to make her feel more secure after she’d barred the door, so he left it alone.
She went and sat by the hearth, though only a few glowing embers were left. She was clearly upset over the day’s events, but he also sensed that she was nervous and unsure. He wanted to ease her worries and fears.
He had many questions and now it was evident that she did possess at least some ability to speak. The real question was, if she could communicate, why had she chosen not to?
“Eveline, can you tell me what happened inside the keep that upset you so?”
Silence fell. She didn’t respond. Didn’t turn around to acknowledge him. She acted as though he hadn’t spoken at all.
He frowned. “Eveline?”
Still no response.
“Eveline, turn around so that we may speak on the matter at hand.”
The order was imperious, purposely said in a biting tone bec
ause he suspected … He wasn’t sure what he suspected, but he’d spoken in a manner that would have most certainly have upset her. She would not have sat there, unmoving, ignoring his dictate.
His mind was a whirl of confusion and gradual understanding. If he was correct … Jesu, could he be? Could it be as simple as that?
He strode forward and straddled the bench she sat on. As soon as she sensed his presence, she turned, her gaze immediately going to his face, or rather, his mouth. His mind was struggling for answers to the questions that plagued him. There was something very important here. Just within reach.
The nagging suspicion became stronger. It wasn’t possible. It sounded preposterous. And yet he found himself mouthing his next words, not giving voice to them.
“Can you tell me what happened, Eveline?”
Slowly she nodded, but then she shook her head and shrugged as if to say she wasn’t sure what she could tell him.
His pulse thumped rapidly. He found it difficult to remain calm. One more time, he did the same, still not believing the proof in front of his eyes.
“Can you understand me, Eveline? Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
She frowned and then nodded, as if she found the question ridiculous.
His discovery floored him. All he could do was stare at her in utter amazement.
“Dear God,” he whispered. “You can’t hear, can you?”
CHAPTER 21
Eveline’s eyes turned nearly black as her pupils grew large. Only a thin band of blue surrounded the darkness and her fear was something he could not only see but he could feel.
She hastily rose, backing away from him, her expression panicked. She ran into one of her trunks, fell backward and then tried to scramble up as she continued her track toward the door.
Graeme shot up and went to her, determined that she wouldn’t fear him. He couldn’t bear it if he frightened her.
“Eveline. Eveline!” He turned her face so that she was looking directly at him. “Eveline, please. You have nothing to fear. I only want to understand. Please believe that.”
He touched her cheek, caressing softly as he tried to soothe away her panic.
Gradually her breathing slowed and some of the terror left her eyes.
“That’s it,” he said. “Deep breaths. You’ve nothing to fear. I just want to talk to you. I’d like to understand you, Eveline. I think you have been very misunderstood for a long time now.”
He helped her up and then took her hands, leading her to the bed so she could be comfortable. The hard bench in front of a no longer burning fire didn’t qualify and he didn’t want to take the time to start it burning again. There was too much he needed to know about the woman he’d married.
He settled her down and then sat across from her, bending one leg up on the mattress so they faced each other. He took her hands in his, holding them firmly.
“I’m right, aren’t I? You can’t hear.”
She briefly closed her eyes and issued a short nod. He waited until she reopened them before he continued.
“And yet, somehow you’re able to tell what people are saying by watching their mouths?”
Even as he said it, he knew how incredible it sounded and yet it had to be so. It explained so much. Why she seemed to sometimes be aware and why other times she seemed to drift and have no awareness of what went on around her.
Again she nodded.
He was astounded. He wouldn’t have believed such a thing possible. There were so many questions crowding into his head that he had to control the urge to blurt them out in succession. He didn’t want to overwhelm her.
He leaned in closer, gazing into her eyes. “Eveline, out there, you spoke. You said two words. Have you been unable to speak or have you just been unwilling to speak all this time?”
She swallowed hard and then again. She opened her mouth, but paused almost as if she were afraid to even try.
“Try,” he coaxed gently. “I won’t judge you. Try to say the words.”
He held his breath in anticipation, only now realizing just how important it was that she be able to communicate verbally with him. He’d never felt an eagerness like this. His pulse was about to beat right out of his head.
Her hand went to her throat, and then she opened her mouth again. The words when spoken were a little garbled and barely a whisper.
“I w-was a-afraid.”
His chest tightened at such simple words, but they conveyed a heavy wealth of emotion.
He nudged her chin upward so she’d see his own words. It was important she understand what he would say. If she knew nothing else, he would have her understand his vow. “You don’t have to be afraid here, Eveline. You never have to be afraid with me.”
Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Th-they haate mee.”
This time the words were rather singsong and they came out in varying degrees of loudness. She started soft, became much louder in the middle before fading away to nearly nothing. It was almost as if she were testing, trying to see what was normal.
And how would she know?
So much was falling into place for Graeme. The pieces were rapidly coming together, almost too fast for him to keep up. He had to force himself to remain calm and not leap ahead of himself in his haste to discover all her secrets.
“Let’s start from the beginning, Eveline. I need to know what happened. Was it your accident that caused you to lose your hearing?”
She nodded.
“You were ill for quite a long time.”
She nodded again.
“Why didn’t you tell your family? Do you not think they would have understood? God’s teeth, they thought you were daft. I thought you were daft. You’re probably more intelligent than the lot of us.”
“I w-was afraid,” she said again in a thready voice.
“What were you afraid of, Eveline?”
The color rose in her cheeks. She fidgeted with her hands and then looked down as she pulled with her fingers.
Impatient to find a question she could more easily answer, he once more directed her attention to him and then asked, “Everyone thinks you’re daft. But you’re merely deaf and you’ve not spoken since your accident.”
She flushed guiltily, but nodded.
Graeme was elated. God’s teeth, but he’d felt like the worst sort of abuser lusting over a woman who didn’t fully understand the world she was in half the time. But none of that was true. She was normal. Or at least she was perfectly in control of her faculties.
“Why wouldn’t you speak?” he asked, touching her cheek again, tracing a line over the silky smoothness.
“I hhad no waay of knowing howww loudly I spoke. At ffirst I was ffrightened. I didn’t understand …”
Her voice drifted lower and lower until he was no longer able to hear her. He touched her lips. “Louder, Eveline. A little louder.”
She cleared her throat, swallowed, and then continued, her cheeks reddening once more. “I didn’t undeeerstand what had happened to me or whhyy. It took me a while to comprehend. When I did, I decided to keep it s-secret and l-let those around me think I was addled. Brain fever. Touched. Whatevver they chose to tthhink.”
The more she spoke, the more she seemed to gain confidence. It seemed to pour out of her after a very rusty start. Some of her words warbled and some of the sounds weren’t quite right, but Graeme had never heard such a beautiful sound in his life.
His wife could communicate with him. Not only could she speak, but she was highly intelligent and could read the words of others from their lips. Daft? If anything, it was her family who was addled for not realizing her deafness in three long years. Perhaps she was the only smart Armstrong of the lot.
She hesitated, and then she peeked up at him, uncertainty written all over her face. “You aren’t … You aren’t angry?”
His breath left him in a rush. “Angry?”
She nodded solemnly, and he knew in that moment that he still hadn’t gained the whole
story from her. There was still something she held back, whatever it was that had made her afraid when she lived in the bosom of her family.
He cupped her face in his hands so that she wouldn’t miss a single word that came from his mouth.
“I’m not angry, Eveline. Far from it. ’Tis a joyous moment.”
She smiled tentatively and some of the warmth returned to her eyes.
He rubbed his thumbs over her cheekbones and stared down at her, hoping she would see his sincerity.
“What made you afraid, Eveline? What frightened you so badly that you would not admit to your family what was really wrong with you?”
Her face fell and once again she shut her eyes tightly, as if warding off the pain of the past. He didn’t press and instead continued to hold her gently, his thumbs feathering over her face.
When she looked back at him again, tears swam in her eyes, making them deep, blue pools. “I was to marry Ian McHugh.”
“Just a little louder,” he encouraged.
“I was to marry Ian McHugh,” she said again.
He nodded. “Yes, I know. The betrothal was broken after your accident. I assume he cried off because of your … condition.”
She nodded solemnly. “It was mere weeks after the accident had occurred and I was still confused and afraid. But when I realized that I wasn’t going to have to marry Ian because my own family thought I was daft, I knew that if I told them differently, I would likely have to honor the agreement.”
Graeme stared at her in surprise. “You allowed your family to believe you were mad for three years because you didn’t want to marry Ian McHugh?”
“He was evil,” she whispered hoarsely. “I was so afraid of him. I tried to tell my father, but he put my concerns down as maidenly fears. He refused to believe me and it hurt, because I love my father dearly. I thought that he’d side with me. Not Ian.”
Graeme’s brows drew together. He was starting to gain a clearer idea of the whole thing and it was giving him a very bad feeling. He didn’t think that he’d like whatever it was she’d have to say to his next question.