Lady Trent

by GinaRJ

  “You are at odds with her?”

  “Roselyn? Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “She peers. All of the time she peers. Every single moment.”

  He remembered asking her to spy upon Rachel once upon a time, so guessed himself at fault for this. “Aside from that…is there anything else, some reason to not trust her?”

  “She does not like our mistress.”

  “How do you know?”

  “It is quite obvious, even to my mistress. She tolerates this dislike of her. She overlooks it.”

  “Tell me this, and Zaria, you must be terribly honest with me. Have you ever known your mistress to pass messages outside of the palace…in secret?”

  She stared up at the ceiling for a time, shook her head but barely. “She hasn’t a need to do so. She now passes them personally to Darius, although also Aaron sometimes. She honors the procedures as we all must.”

  “You do not think…” he stopped, not wanting to say the wrong thing, nothing this maiden could possibly repeat and offend Rachel with if by chance she was innocent, and he felt she was—in his heart of hearts. But hadn’t his heart of hearts let him down before? Yes, he could recall. He could recall well a few specific times.

  She merely stared at him, waiting for him to continue. He glanced down from her face to her upper body, barely dressed, the top of her gown still hanging at her waist. She smiled slyly at him, and he knew to stand up and put some distance between them. He stood back, crossing his arms.

  “If an accusation came up against Lady Trent from the mouth of Roselyn, what would you say to it?”

  She sat, palms pressed down at either side of her, thinking for a short time before standing. “Sir Marcus,” she said as sweetly as possible, “The Lady has been with us now a reasonable span, has she not? She proved trustworthy from the beginning, and has not since then proven anything otherwise. If not sincere, even I would have surely noticed the wrong in her. I do consider myself a good judge of character, and Lady Trent has a great deal of it. Character. This Roselyn has done little but ogle and huff and neglect her duties. She purposely refuses orders, and does not speak to either Tilly or me…only on the occasion I say something to simply ruffle her feathers, as they say. At times I purposely do so. She purposely disrespects my mistress, and for that alone I find myself hating her.” She came up to him, and slid her hands up his chest and around his neck. She stared up at him, her head back. “She is not right,” she slowly said. “Tell me, Sir Marcus,” she began, lifting her lips and sliding them across his chin, “what accusation has that horrible little woman said against my mistress?”

  He took hold of her arms, just as she began to run her hands down his back, and pulled them away, continuing to hold to them while they stood face to face. “Do not mention this.”

  She stepped back, away from him, the strap of her underclothing falling down over her shoulder. “Very well, Sir Marcus,” she said, and grinned the only way Zaria knew how as he left the room.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Rachel was in the middle of a conversation when Marcus came out as if from nowhere and so casually took her hand. Paying no mind to her companion, he urged her to get up. She did so gracefully, although there was this instant urge to pull away. She did not want to make a scene.

  At that point, the musicians were playing a sweet, slow song, and several couples were up dancing. He led her toward the direction of them, and she only knew to follow his lead so as to not make a scene. Either way, it was a scene, for some of the couples moved away, stepping back to watch them, smiling with delight to see her joining in.

  Marcus held her, actually too close—one arm around her waist, a hand clasped with hers so slightly in the air. She tried to put more distance between them. He held her in place.

  “What are you doing?” She asked thru her teeth, faking a smile in the process.

  “Who is the man you were speaking with?” He firmly asked.

  “You’ve no right to interrogate me,” She bitterly returned, watching the people from over his shoulder, and fighting to keep her expression at ease. Far be it from her to have these people so soon spreading vulgar rumors about her manners, or even her relationship with this man.

  “Do you know him?”

  “You were hired to watch over and protect me, not to pry into my affairs.”

  “It is Jacob’s distant cousin.”

  “So, then, you seek answers to questions you already know the answers to.”

  “How do you know him?” He firmly but quietly demanded.

  “I am under no obligation to answer to you.”

  “Is he not an enemy of your husband’s?”

  As soon as he asked it, the music stopped, and she would have stepped away from him. Opposed to letting her, he kept hold of her arm, and guided her from the room, thru a set of double doors and out onto the terrace, as if to simply get some fresh air. Once again, she went along, a forced expression of peace upon her face so as to not cause a scene. Nicholas was heading in that direction, but Marcus shook his head at him and nodded toward Byron, motioning with his free hand for him to join them.

  Once outside she yanked her arm free of his grip and swung around to face him.

  “How dare you pull me aside like this! Does it not enter your mind that these people may question the association between us?”

  “And what of your association with Jacob’s enemy?”

  “I know nothing of the accusations you’ve made against him. And you have a great deal of nerve, Marcus Wren.”

  “I have obligations.”

  “I know exactly where you stand and who you are and your obligations to Jacob and the nobles and even the emperor. Apparently you have taken no thought to my position. Are you forgetting? I am the lady of this Manor…and I am well able to dismiss whomever I choose…including you.”

  His eyes slanted at her. She’d never seen such a look in them. His voice was very solemn when he said, “call upon whomever you wish to have me removed, and you shall see once and for all how truly capable I am of defending myself.”

  She parted her lips to speak. He did so in her stead, his voice louder this time, and his eyes filled with anger. “The man with whom you were speaking is an enemy of my friend…your husband. I have every right to question why he is present.”

  “How am I to know?”

  “You didn’t invite him?”

  She inhaled a deep, uneven breath, keeping eye contact, staring at him without so much as a blink of the eye. “No,” she said, with straightened posture. He stared her in the eye as if to see if she was or was not telling the truth. Her brows came together. “But you already accuse me…even in your eyes I see it.”

  “What am I to think when I look to see you mingling with a man who has proven himself an enemy to your husband? Do not think that Jacob will not hear of it…even masquerading as a pirate or whatever he intends to be.”

  “How am I to know these things? He simply introduced himself as a native of Westerly.”

  “By what name?”

  “I have said all I know to say. What good does it do to explain anything to you?”

  “I want to know why he is here.”

  “I do not know.” She nearly screamed it, and the air went terribly silent. Her chest rose and fell while she peered angrily into his eyes. Considering all he’d thus far claimed in reference to the man in question, she calmed herself enough to say, “it is in my power to remove him…to even detain him if need be. Is there a need? Just speak it, for I know absolutely nothing about this man or his dealings with my husband, only that he introduced himself as Edward Gaunt, a native of Westerly and a captain by trade. If he has deceived me and is at odds with my husband…”

  “What was he saying to you?”

  “That he has just come from Westerly, that he delivered materials for the reconstruction of the community.”

  Marcus went silent, considering the information quietly to himself and trying to figure ou
t the man’s motives.

  “I can have him arrested,” she said.

  His entire countenance had changed. Marcus became calm enough to coolly reply, “no. Leave him be.”

  “Well, if these accusations are true…”

  “They are.”

  “Then he must be arrested at once.”

  “You do not understand,” he said, and turned away from her. “I fully intend to get to the bottom of his being here, and I will. Meantime, I advise you to stay within sight of your guards, to never dismiss yourself without supervision, which I noticed you do late last night and once this evening.”

  “I am sick to death of supervision,” she narrowly admitted, surprised to even hear herself say it, for she could not recall having thought it…only feeling disturbed from time to time having guards constantly watching over and following her.

  “It is a part of it,” he tiredly commented, casting his eyes toward Byron standing close to the door they’d came out from. “You knew this,” he quietly told her. “I warned you early on that you would never truly be alone. I meant well when I said it, in hopes you would surely adapt or know to.”

  “Adapt, adapt, adapt. I am sick to death of hearing it, and from people who have not a clue how I feel. Is there some crime in wishing to be alone from time to time in some other place than ones private chambers? Even then I have guards listening in on every word, and awaiting lest I do venture out of my room. I was not even alone earlier when I slipped away. You followed me. Not that I have not become accustomed to being followed and observed. I feel your eyes upon me at all times, even when I know for certain you are not present.”

  “Not present,” he quietly repeated. “Have you seen someone? While I was away…have you seen someone watching you other than the ordinary guards?”

  “No,” she swiftly returned, and then again, “No. I did not say I had seen anyone, but that I have felt it; when you are gone, when you are present, especially since you’re return from the Isles and from Westerly. You are at fault for this suspicion, that I am being watched by someone other than the guards. Although the past four days these were more than mere suspicions. You were, indeed, watching me…and quite openly. Just as now you openly pull me to the side, giving the people reason to create rumors.”

  “It is known that I am here as your companion. Jacob has left you in my care. If anything at all happens to you, if so much as a hair upon your head is harmed, it will be upon my head.”

  “I can see where you would be concerned, then, with whom I speak with and where I go. Jacob thinks so highly of you, not appearing to be the slightest bit aware of how suspicious of a character you are…yet you continually point the finger at me and even have the nerve to accuse me to my face of befriending his enemy. But even despite whatever occurred in the Great Hall he still trusts you. I cannot say the same. Indeed, if something were to happen to me, he would be furious with you. You would not want to disappoint him. You may not be so easily able to pacify him as you obviously did that night with whatever occurred between those two men who were obviously keeping secrets from him that you, yourself, were aware of.”

  “You should not judge matters you know nothing about.”

  “Perhaps he made me aware of them.”

  “In that case you would know better than to question my motives in reference to them. But my utmost concern at the moment and until we return, milady, is for your safety alone—not only for his sake or for mine, but for yours. I would not wish to see you fall into the hands of any mischief. Enemies can be cruel, and no man is without rival.”

  “Who are these rivals you speak of? This man? I can have him removed with a simple command.”

  “We all have enemies. Some of us many, and some more malicious than others.”

  She cocked a brow. “Even I?”

  “You suppose you are in these positions free of adversary?”

  “Then who?” She challenged. “Who are my enemies? Who are his? He has not made mention of any such rivalry, no, not one single reference.”

  “Such things are not openly discussed.”

  “You suggest I have enemies. Who would these be?”

  “Perhaps those of the eyes you have felt upon you.”

  “Are you trying to frighten me, Sir Marcus?”

  “I have merely suggested you be cautious.”

  “I have yet to feel unsafe.” She squared her shoulders to arrogantly reply, “There is little opportunity to feel anything less than safe with eyes peering upon me from every angle at every single moment. Just as you suggested in the gardens at Harp, such is how I feel; that I had never been safer nor would I be. And then in the gardens at the palace, that I would never be alone. As for this safety you promised, has something changed between then and now?”

  “Yes,” he flatly agreed, “yes, something has changed.” There was a great amount of sincerity in his eyes when he said, “You are no longer simply Rachel the Elder. You are Jacob’s wife, Lady of the Great City, Lady of Orland Manor.”

  She considered his words carefully, her gaze going from defiant to thoughtful. She said no more, but turned away from him, making her way near the ledge of the terrace. Marcus’s voice when he spoke, breaking the silence, was quiet and soft.

  “I have given you advice that is well meant, milady, from the heart…which is not without care.”

  “Without care,” she quietly repeated to herself, unsure as to if he heard her, and not caring if he had or not. She simply stared out into the darkness, taking in his every word, the every possible meaning behind them. She understood exactly what he meant. Had she not felt this before, even from the beginning, that he had some sort of feelings for her?

  “Jacob,” she began, “has not advised me to be cautious. Were I in any danger he would do so.”

  “Jacob is a very wise man, but like any other, incapable of being fully aware of all things.”

  “What are you saying?” She demanded to know, swinging around to look at him, completely exhausted by every single conversation the two of them had ever shared. She shook her head and turned back around. “Never mind it. I know better than to listen to you. You’ve done nothing but provoke me since day one.”

  “My motives are not indecent. I take my duty to Jacob very seriously, and so long as it is in my power to do so, I will see to it neither he is harmed, nor anything he loves. And he loves you. Dearly he loves you, more than anything this world has or ever has had to offer him.”

  “Please,” she said, lifting her arm toward his direction. “Just go away. Leave me alone.”

  “You cannot be left alone.”

  “I said to leave me alone!” she yelled and swung around to face him, her chest rising and falling, her breath short. “You are enough to make a person insane.”

  “I have told you I mean well, even in observing you so closely since I returned.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Then I will be honest and give you a reason as to why I have…although I am certain you already know.”

  “I know nothing except you…you approach as if to…to persuade me of something other than this rivalry you warn me of.”

  “I am a man, and just as you did not intend to care so much for Jacob, I likewise did not intend to care for you.”

  This silenced her. His gaze dropped a moment. He appeared to be in very deep thought, and terribly torn or troubled. He looked back at her with tired, anguished eyes. “I spoke with Jacob a few mornings after I had returned and…there was something different about him. I assumed your marriage had been consummated that night, one reason I had watched you…to see for myself. Once a woman is taken the first time, she is never the same.”

  She remembered Zaria saying those exact same words. This she considered for only a moment. The previous statement became most prevalent. She thought on it, and suddenly felt as if she may even laugh, but did not. She raised a brow at him. “So tell me, Sir Marcus, what were your discoveries while you ogled me from across r
ooms and tables and yards?”

  “Nothing at all,” he simply replied. “You are the same manner of woman as you ever were.”

  “Perhaps I am pretending to be,” she said with slanted eyes. “In any case, it’s none of your business to begin with. What makes you so preoccupied with my innocence?”

  “Are you still innocent, Rachel?” He called her by first name for the very first time. This made her feel peculiar, as if he’d stepped over yet another boundary.

  Neither of them batted an eye as she said, “You speak as if you wish to be the man to take my virtue.” With that, she did laugh, a quick, short laugh. “You speak as a fool, and as an enemy, yourself, of a man you claim to love more than any other in the world. And here you are pointing the finger at others.”

  “I am far from an enemy,” he very seriously stated. “But I am a mere man.”

  “You insinuate that my husband is in danger or even I…yet without an explanation. Perhaps you, yourself, are the enemy, just as you claim this man to be. Perhaps he was speaking to me in like manner as you do.”

  “Now you speak as a fool.”

  “Then explain yourself,” she harshly demanded.

  “Such explanations are often mishandled or misunderstood.”

  “Then you are aware that someone is going to harm him? Or me?”

  “I merely explained that no man is without an enemy. Can it be put any simpler?”

  “And insisted I am in danger.”

  “I merely asked you to be cautious—to not wander about alone, to take heed when it comes to strange men such as the one you were speaking with.”

  “Strange men,” she repeated. “You have just described yourself.”

  “I have been called strange, which may in a sense apply. But ignorant, no. A failure, no. Wrong, no.”

  “You have too much confidence in yourself.”

  “As you have come to have in yourself, as well, although I knew it was there all along.”

  “You know nothing about me,” she hatefully returned, beams of anger sparking in her eyes. She peered at him a moment before calmly implying, “I do believe your toils, these missions to and fro, have finally taken a toll upon your mind. Perhaps you should cease from them, become married and have a family so that you will have something else to occupy your thoughts.”