"It is all right, My Lady," the innkeeper remarked. "We all loved him, and I think you did too. You are as entitled to your grief as any of us, if not more so."
I thanked him and drained the tankard, then I summoned enough courage to ride to see Lady Summerville.
I rode slowly, not only because it was damp and misty, but because I had no real desire to get there at all. I hated confrontation and I was going to meet a woman who believed I had been giving to her husband that which only a wife should give.
How would I ever convince her that was not the case, that never could be the case? Especially if she saw in my eyes how much I loved him, how much I grieved for him.
But as I approached the house the sight that met my eyes first made me believe I was still in bed and dreaming, but then when I realised I was awake, made my heart dance with joy. Through the windows at the front of the house, I saw Richard, holding his wife in his arms once more. He looked up and saw me and smiled then he mouthed a 'thank you'.
He was not a ghost, he was real flesh and blood and I wanted to jump off my horse and run inside to fling myself at him.
But that privilege was hers, not mine. I turned my horse around and rode back to my own house.
It was later that day that Louisa came running in with the news she had just heard in the village.
"The Queen is dead, My Lady," she said excitedly. "That is why His Lordship escaped. We have a new Queen now, Elizabeth, and she has spared all her sister's enemies."
"Elizabeth," I sighed. "Another protestant on the throne."
"Yes, My Lady," Louisa said with a smile.
I had never really wondered about the religious leanings of Lucy or her. I did not care either way so I assumed they felt the same. But I knew what Mary's death meant to me. It meant no more burnings, it meant I was no longer in danger of being found and charged with treason, it meant Lord Summerville once again where he belonged, with his wife, making more babies.
It meant that I would have to leave. I could perhaps return to the Finsbury house now that I was not in any danger, but I would try to talk to Richard about it when I got the chance.
I had the chance sooner than I thought I would, for he arrived at my door that evening, with his wife at his side.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Bethany's Journal
I woke that morning thinking I had nothing, believing myself a widowed pauper, only to have Richard back with me, where he belonged, and telling me he loved me, yes me, not the beautiful Rachel, but me. He said there was nothing between them, but I could not really believe that. She was so beautiful, so exquisite and he was so handsome, so seductive. No, I could never believe that.
But I had to put her out of my mind; I had to thank her for the risk she took and pray she was able to move on with her life without Richard in it. I may learn later that I would have to share him with her, but even that did not seem to matter too much that day. If she loved him even half as much as I did, it would break her heart to give him up.
I did not want him to know how Anthony had spoken to me. It seemed petty somehow to spoil his homecoming with complaints. I knew why Anthony resented me so much and I could understand it a little now I knew why my husband had presented another woman to the Queen as his wife. Anthony was right - if I could have only followed his wishes and beliefs, as I promised to do, he would have stayed safe. He would never have been imprisoned in the Tower, never have faced the prospect of the executioner's axe. Instead, I had driven him into the arms of another woman.
"Richard," I heard Anthony's incredulous voice from the doorway and sat up from where I had been pressed against Richard's chest. "Richard!" He repeated, coming forward and shaking his hand. Then as Richard got to his feet to greet him, he took him in a hug of sheer joy.
"Mary is dead," I told him. "Richard is home with us."
I emphasised the us, by way of an olive branch, but he did not look grateful. In fact, he scowled at me as though I had no right to be there. Perhaps he would never forgive me, but I could do nothing about it and I was far more concerned that Richard should forgive me than him.
But as I suspected, Anthony's expression was not lost on Richard. He noticed at once the tension in the air.
He took my hand to pull me up, then started to move toward the door.
"I will talk to you later," he told Anthony quietly. "For now, I need to be alone with my wife."
Those words sent a thrill of anticipation throbbing through me. It had been so long, not since Alicia was a baby and he had come home to try for a son. Or had he? It is what I believed then, but now he was telling me of feelings of which I had never suspected him.
Holding my hand in the warmth of his own, he led me to our bedchamber while I felt Anthony's hostile gaze following me. He undressed me, just as he had in the first days of our marriage, kissing my lips, my neck, my breasts, lifting me on to the bed and loving me once more.
As I lie in his arms, feeling his bare flesh against mine, his hardened nipples pressing into my own, I knew that whatever had gone before, it was over now. The pain, the heartache, the helpless longing for him and the hatred I had tried hard to hold on to, all over. I wanted to stay there forever, just lying in his arms.
"What is the matter with Anthony?" He asked at last.
"Nothing," I replied. "He is not happy with me, but he will get over it I am sure."
"He had better."
"You must not blame him, Richard," I said, looking up into his eyes. "He adores you and he believes I was to blame for putting your life at risk. He is right and I shall never forgive myself."
"No, he is not right. I will have my wife treated with respect in her own house, or there will not be space for both of you."
I pressed my face against his chest and kissed it.
"I do not wish to be the cause of an argument between you," I protested. "Let it go, please."
"We shall see," he replied then gave a deep sigh before he went on. "Bethany, I have a confession."
I wanted to find some clue in his expression, but I was afraid to look. I just held on tighter in case he tried to slip away.
"Confession?" I asked hesitantly.
"Yes," he said. "About Rachel."
Oh, God! So he does love that woman after all!
"I want us to have an honest, fresh start, no secrets, nothing to come between us. I said there was nothing between Rachel and I but I can see you do not believe me. I need you to believe or she will always stand between us. I want to tell you about her and I need you to believe me, because I will be breaking a sacred vow by telling anyone without her permission."
I sat up and looked down at him then, very much afraid of his next words. He smiled at me, reached up and touched my face gently.
"What you have to believe, first and foremost,” he said, “is that I love you and I have always been faithful to you, since the day we first met."
I smiled. How did he expect me to believe that?
"You have lived with a very beautiful woman all this time, one who was your mistress before I came along according to Anthony. Do you really think I will believe you were not tempted?"
"I did not say I was not tempted," he replied with a mischievous smile. "I said it did not happen; it has never happened. Rachel and I have never been lovers, not in all the years I have known her."
"But Anthony told me she lived here with you," I said.
"She did, but not as my mistress although that is what he was meant to believe. That was a rumour we started to protect her. Her story is a tragic one, and I know she wants no one to know it. That is why it is so important that you believe what I tell you and keep her secret. She is different, and she is afraid of people gossiping about her." He paused then pulled me down to lie beside him. "Do you want to hear it?"
I nodded. Of course I wanted to hear it. If he could tell me anything to convince me that their relationship had been purely platonic, then of course I wanted to hear it.
So he told me about
her, about her childhood horror, about her two marriages, about the protection he had given her and how the deception which protected me was her idea. When he had finished, there were tears running down my face and all I could see in my mind's eye was that poor little girl, the horror she must have suffered and at the hands of her own father as well. I had believed my father uncaring for wanting to marry both me and my sister off to anyone for a title, but he would never have done anything like that.
Then he told me that she did not live in London but here, next door to Summerville land, that she moved away because she had not wanted me to hear the gossip and believe he kept his mistress close by. She gave up his protection out of respect for me.
"Do you believe me?" He asked at last.
"I hope you could not have made that up?" I replied.
I reached up and kissed him tenderly, but my mind was in a whirl of memories, good and bad. This man was an enigma, a puzzle.
I had made him angry enough to imprison me to fend for myself in that freezing cottage, yet he could do all this for Rachel to protect her. I felt that familiar stab of jealousy once more but I recalled his reasons for keeping me as he did. It seems she got the more comfortable part of the bargain, but what I got I deserved; she did not.
"She was very angry with me for what I did to you," he went on. "I did not think she would ever speak to me again."
"I have tried to understand why you did what you did," I assured him. "But it is hard. I know I betrayed you, and I know I likely deserved what I got, but feeling the hatred coming from you broke my heart. I am not sure I will ever forget that, and I would not blame you if you never forgave me. I made you lose your temper. Do you remember telling me you had an uncontrollable temper?"
"I do."
"You told me a lot of things that day that I chose to ignore. I betrayed you and I do not blame you for being so angry with me. I did at the time; I was terrified."
"Rachel told me the reason I was so enraged was because I loved you, that no one else could have made me that angry."
"Was she right?"
"She was," he replied then he kissed me again and we made love once more before we dressed and reappeared downstairs.
Anthony looked up as we approached and I squeezed Richard's hand.
"Let it go," I whispered. "Please."
"Bethany could you leave us, please," he replied.
My eyes met his and held his gaze for a few moments, silently pleading with him to do as I asked, but I could see his decision was made, so I left them alone but not out of earshot. I wanted to be sure to hear what was said.
"Richard," Anthony began at once, shaking his hand once more. "I am so relieved to see you. We thought you were dead, we thought we had lost you."
"Who is 'we'?" Richard asked him.
"Why me, Rachel........"
"And Bethany?"
"Yes, of course and Bethany," Anthony finally looked concerned at the turn the conversation was taking. "She was devastated, Richard. She even went to the church to buy masses for the dead."
Richard raised his eyebrows and I could tell my actions had pleased him.
"Did she indeed?" He asked coldly. "Then you are in agreement with me that we put the past behind us?"
"I am not sure what you mean," Anthony protested. "What lies has she told you?"
Had he not said that, had he not accused me of lying, our entire futures might have been different. He might have stayed, resumed his place in Richard’s affections, but his accusation took him too far in Richard’s eyes. I could see things would never be the same.
Richard's face darkened in fury and I wanted to run and get between them, before he decided to strike his young cousin. I did not want this.
"Oh, I think you know perfectly well what I mean, Anthony," Richard replied in a cold voice. "I saw the way you looked at her. Far from reporting your attitude, she wants me to let it go, but that is up to you. I will have my wife treated with respect. Do you understand?"
"She betrayed you," Anthony argued. "She almost cost you your life."
"She had her reasons," Richard answered. "She was not solely to blame. Do you understand?"
Anthony nodded but he did not look happy.
"Will you go to see Rachel. She will be grieving as well," Anthony asked. "Or shall I tell her?"
"She knows already," Richard replied. "I saw her earlier from the window and she saw me. I imagine she had ridden here to comply with my wishes, as you should be doing, but seeing me alive and well, she thought there was no longer any need."
Rachel came here, while I was still reeling from having him back in my arms? I could easily guess what wishes he had asked her to convey to me. He wanted her to tell me her secret and that is why she had come. Her secret that she never, ever wanted anyone to know, she was willing to tell to me because he asked her to, because his last wish was for me to believe he had been faithful. Would I have believed her? I could not say, but had she told me the same story Richard had, I would have had to.
I felt a swell of gratitude for this beautiful woman who had haunted my dreams for so long. I could no longer hate her, that was for certain.
I stepped into the great hall then to interrupt the tension between the two cousins, but I could see they were both still very angry.
Anthony gave me a scathing glare, and Richard took a threatening step toward him.
"Please," I cried out. "Please do not argue about me."
"I have no wish to," Anthony replied. "But I would like to understand why my cousin should forgive such a betrayal as yours."
"You have no need to understand," Richard told him. "The decision is mine alone."
Anthony was shaking his head and still looking at me with loathing, as though he thought I had somehow forced his cousin into taking me back. What on earth did he think I could possibly do to persuade my husband to do anything against his will.
"I am sorry, Richard," Anthony replied with a note of regret. "I can no longer live under the same roof as a traitor such as her."
I watched Richard's expression turn to contempt as he stood watching his cousin before he replied.
"Very well," he said at last. "You had best leave in the morning, earlier if possible."
Anthony looked taken aback, as though he had not expected him to put me first. Did he not understand even now what we meant to each other?
"You are really taking her side?" He protested. "You have raised me, been like a father to me, and you would take the side of a treacherous heretic over me?"
I saw Richard's fist clench dangerously and wondered just where this was going to lead.
"My wife," he said, "is a Protestant, not a heretic. And I have not only forgiven her, we have forgiven each other."
"And what of Rachel?" Anthony demanded with a sly glance of satisfaction at me. "Will you simply abandon her now? Is this a day when I must learn you will abandon anyone who gets in your way?"
He expected some sort of reaction from me, that was obvious. He had no idea what Richard had told me, he did not know the role Rachel played in his life and believed he would be hurting me by mentioning her.
"You have no idea about Rachel," Richard shouted. "You had best not speak her name before me, after everything she has done for us."
That is when I made up my mind. I knew he would not abandon her, that he would do what she wished and I badly needed to know what that was.
I stepped between them and turned to face my husband.
"I want to meet her," I said.
***
I was very nervous as the carriage took us the short distance to Rachel's house. During that journey, Richard held my hand and told me this beautiful woman of whom I had been so jealous for so long, was his dearest friend and he hoped she would be mine as well.
"I am not sure I can do that, Richard," I said. "I will try, but you need to understand how much I have loathed her. All this time, as far as I knew, she had stolen away the man I loved. Do you know how I came to b
e in London when Julia was executed?”
“No. It never even occurred to me to wonder.”
“I went to London to spy on you. When Anthony told me you had presented another woman to the Queen as Lady Summerville, I was so angry, so devastated, I had to see for myself how you were with her. I followed you from the palace gates, I saw you laughing together and I was convinced she was the love of your life, that I was nothing but a breeding vessel.”
He pulled me close and kissed me.
“I am so sorry.”
“Had I the opportunity, I would cheerfully have killed her. It will not be easy to change those feelings, not even for you."
"You will try, though?"
"Of course. She saved my life. I would not be here were it not for her; just do not expect too much, please."
As we waited for the little maid to announce us, my heart began to beat faster and when I saw Rachel up close, all my doubts came brimming to the surface. Could it really be possible that these two had not been lovers, despite what he told me? How could he have resisted her?
She stood up and her eyes held Richard's before she said in an accusing tone:
"You told her."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Rachel's Journal
When Louisa led them into my little sitting room, she was blushing and looking at the floor. I doubt she ever thought she would be announcing Lady Summerville in this house.
"Lord and Lady Summerville," she announced, then fled to the kitchen.
I got slowly to my feet and my eyes held Richard's.
"You told her," I said at once.
"Rachel, I had to," he said pleadingly. "I wanted us to have an honest new start. I know I have let you down, that they were your secrets to tell. Will you forgive me?"
I felt very uncomfortable having this conversation in front of Bethany. What must she must think of me? I was afraid to talk to him with my usual familiarity lest it offend her. Richard had parted with my secrets to make her believe there had been nothing between him and me, but had it worked? Did she believe it, or did I have in my house a woman who believed I was her husband’s mistress?
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