by Robyn Carr
“But you did,” she said softly.
“Aye. However I might justify my right to his blood, I would not risk you, or my son, in the doing. I love you too much.”
“Then you will let this be forgotten?” she asked.
“I will send all the papers Adrienne gave me to the king. I’ll list at length the number of people who could have slain the man, including myself. Beyond that, I’ll take no action. And I think Charles will be of like mind.” He laughed softly, though not in humor. “Do you realize that I will have to list even Enid?”
“No,” Jocelyn gasped.
“Have you ever seen her in a rage? When I bedded you, she fairly split my skull with a plate. She is as likely as anyone.”
“I can’t say I feel inclined to allow someone who would defy your judgment, and murder as well, stay in this house and help us raise up a family. Trent?”
“Those same ones wielded brooms and hammers to avenge us. ’Tis a precarious thing, what loyalty will gain … and demand.”
There was the sound of rapid, running steps coming toward them. They both turned to see Troy charge into the stable, a panicked look on his face. “She’s gone, by God. In the dark of night.”
Trent nodded. “I saw her go. I think I know where to find her. But first, let’s get this taken care of.” He took a few steps and pushed open the door and exposed Stephen’s corpse.
“By God,” Troy gasped.
Trent shook the sleeping guard, and the man sputtered and choked in coming awake, first insulted then embarrassed. He faced his lord red-faced.
“I suppose this makes you innocent of the deed,” Trent mumbled.
“Milord?” he questioned sleepily.
“You slept well, Felix. Our prisoner escaped.”
The man flashed a stricken look and rushed to look within the room, confusion mounting when he saw Stephen there, but dead.
“Where is Adrienne?” Troy asked.
“I believe she would have gone to Dearborn, now it’s nearly daybreak. I’ll go with you to find her.”
“And I’ll go, too,” Jocelyn demanded. “The poor child has need of someone with half a heart. Ready the coach while I fetch my child.” She turned and swiftly left them.
“She has developed quite an air of command,” Trent said rather proudly.
“You know nothing of it, milord,” Troy countered. “Last eve she ordered troops more ruthlessly than any general.” He clicked his tongue in amusement. “And upon your return, she did the noble thing and wept, letting you remain under the illusion that she is mild and feminine.”
He leaned to peer out the stable door, where his wife could be seen making fast strides toward the manor, lifting her skirts. He looked back at Troy with a raised brow. “I have no illusions of her weakness. I will make haste to ready her coach.”
As Adrienne approached Dearborn Manor, the sun was barely rising behind the great walls. The smell of the charred rubble scorched her nostrils. From the country road she could see the signs of destruction; the torn-up lawns, the gray rock of the walls blackened with smouldering ash, and possessions from within strewn haphazardly about the grounds. It appeared as though furniture had been thrown from doors and windows to save a few things in the last moments.
She dismounted and stood holding the reins, watching for a long time as the orange sun rose behind the manor and seemed to light the house with flames anew. Each door and window was gone and smoke still rose from a few far walls. There were people moving morosely about the perimeter of the house, picking through the salvaged items. They could have been stealing from this horrendous grave, but Adrienne couldn’t move. She was stunned by the sight of the once-beautiful mansion melted into a hideous rock with only its shape maintained.
For most of an hour she stood beside her mare, long enough to see people enter and leave and pay her no regard. A body was carried out, but too small to be her uncle. A woman knelt in the dust and wept over her dead child. Adrienne had never witnessed a war or even a battle in her lifetime before last night. And what she saw now was the result of greed and evil. It was a horrible monument that added ten years of wisdom to her life and left her sick inside.
She did not turn until the coach that came up behind her was nearly stopped. She turned to see the Wescott emblem on the door and Sir Troy riding behind it. Trent stepped down as Troy dismounted. Lady Jocelyn was next to disembark, with help from both Trent and the driver, since she was burdened with her swaddled baby.
“I thought we would find you here,” Troy said. “You shouldn’t have come alone.”
“Why? The roads are safer now than they’ve been in ten years.”
“Some of Stephen’s men escaped,” he cautioned.
She let out a short laugh. “Those cowards? And they’re still running, mark me.”
Jocelyn stood with Trent and Avery near the coach, and on hearing Adrienne’s harsh voice, suddenly thrust her baby into Avery’s arms, catching the man by surprise with the bundle. He juggled the baby uncomfortably, his eyes wide and alarmed. Jocelyn went quickly to Adrienne without giving Avery any attention whatever. Trent looked at the old servant with a smile, a raised brow, and then chuckled as he followed his wife.
“Adrienne, this is too unpleasant for you. Come back to Braeswood with us now.”
“No, madam, this is my home.”
“Not now, dear heart,” Jocelyn soothed. “Later, when there is some order, you will reside here again. Come.”
“I can’t leave here yet. There are many things to be done. I must learn the number of people killed or injured and see my uncle buried.” She looked at Trent. “Do I bury my cousin, too, my lord?”
“He was slain while in my custody, madam. I cannot name his murderer and must take responsibility for not seeing him better protected. I am sorry, Adrienne.”
Adrienne looked away, back to the burnt mansion. “He was saved even from his own hanging in the end. I don’t know how I lived with him for so long and did not know the extent of his evil.”
“If you insist on staying, Adrienne, then let us help you,” Jocelyn offered.
Adrienne seemed not to hear. “In just a few days a whole lifetime of anguish fell on my doorstep. Do you know what these people have suffered all these many years? Not a family in one of our burgs has slept through the night unafraid. Many of them are starving and weak.”
“I know,” Jocelyn said softly, knowing Adrienne would not realize that she herself had lived most of her life in Dearborn’s Bowens Ash.
“If there is not enough to salvage this house in a year, what little money there is by right must get our villages healed and fed again. I did not know these things. Until I read my uncle’s pages, I did not know what had been done to them. No one will weep when they are buried, Stephen and Uncle Julian. And it will be a very long time before they trust a member of this family again. But Stephen will be buried here along with my uncle. It will serve as a just reminder of the eventual cost of blinding greed and evil, lest any descendant of my family ever forgets.” She looked with moist eyes at Jocelyn. “It may be well on ten years before we see the light of day.”
“The building may take a long time, Adrienne, but the hearts and minds of good people will yield to fair and honest treatment more quickly. In a short time, I think, they will help you.”
Adrienne turned her back on the house and faced Troy and the Wescotts. “I was raised learning that you good people were my enemies, and in the most horrible moment of my life, you are my finest friends. I know I can’t make up the loss, my lord, but I am sorry for what my family did to yours. Dreadfully sorry.”
Trent nodded once in acceptance of that.
“And there was the matter of the accusation,” she went on. “We both knew I falsified you for marriage. I doubt I can make you understand, but that too was for want of Dearborn. We have been driven to such dastardly lengths for what we desired. I somehow think it would be a mistake to rebuild, but I will pray the spirit that drove us all
to conspire and lie has been purged. I thank you, milord, for not exposing me.”
She looked again at Jocelyn. “If you will extend your friendship further, I would stay at Braeswood until a portion of the house can be restored.”
“Of course you will, Adrienne,” Jocelyn said. “We wouldn’t allow you to be alone now. And there are workers at Braeswood who will help you in any way they can.”
Giving her attention to them both, Adrienne continued. “I give you my solemn word, if you can ever bring yourself to trust someone from Dearborn again, that you will have a loyal neighbor. Perhaps by the time our children manage these properties, they will stand together and be allowed to forget our hostile past.”
“I will it so, milady,” Trent replied.
Adrienne turned to Troy. “I have need of a good man to help me here; someone skilled in the way of nobles and villagers, with a mind hard set against the kind of treachery we knew in Stephen. I think you are the man, Troy. What say you?”
“I am honored.” He bowed, smiling.
“Will you help me build and will you put your energies with mine to help me heal this estate and its people?”
“I will visit the church with you this very day,” he vowed.
“Much of my life lies ruined before my eyes,” she said, looking wistfully toward the mansion. “I would like to see Dearborn hold my wedding and my people contented and trusting enough to raise a glass and dance. You look upon my dowry, sir. Can you help me rebuild it and then share it with me?”
“If those are your terms, my lady,” he said.
“I’ve changed my mind about many things,” she said, tears collecting in her eyes. “I want children, many of them. I have no desire for a modern marriage filled with many alliances. I want only one good man, Troy, to raise sons who are true and honest and will make strong lords when I am gone. And I want them to have a father who can teach them.”
He let out a sigh, trying to sound casual. “If that is what pleases you, lady.”
She smiled lightly. “That pleases me, sir.” She rose on her toes and placed a light kiss on his cheek. “I will return to Braeswood when I have finished considering these damages.”
She turned from them, then, ready to move toward the towering ash that was once her home, taking her horse in tow.
Troy shrugged at Trent and Jocelyn. “If she means to make me wait until the house is rebuilt for the wedding, I think my energy best placed with a hammer.” He quickly followed her toward the house.
Trent turned away from the manor and went to relieve Avery of his burden. The steward smiled in great appreciation and nodded once or twice as if to silently avow that Trent handled the youngster with more expert hands.
“They’ll be all right now, won’t they, Trent?” Jocelyn asked.
“It’s going to take a long time,” he replied. “I think they both know what they want.”
“Will Troy do as she requested? Will he keep himself to her and this manse?”
“From the look in his eyes, madam, he considers the prize worth the sacrifice. And I stand amazed. Adrienne was the last person I expected capable of pulling all this together. I considered her spoiled and heartless. Now she is put to the task of carefully rebuilding a gem that was shattered into a million pieces. And it may not be possible to raise Dearborn again. How often can you turn a horrible piece of hell into a garden of Eden?” he asked, looking down at her.
She smiled at her husband, remembering that she had thought Braeswood looked as though it was raised out of the ashes of hell. Within she found an angry and vengeful man who never promised to be fair and warned her daily of her precarious existence. That same man turned away from vengeance in deference to the family he loved and even now held their son with gentle and caring arms.
“I have known it to happen on at least one other occasion,” she said softly.
The Braeswood Tapestry
© 1984 ROBYN CARR
ISBN: 0316129755
LITTLE, BROWN
Ed♥n