by GinaRJ
“In just a matter of time that very thing will be accomplished.”
“What woman would want you as a husband? You would only drive her mad in the end.”
“The one to whom I am engaged…that one,” he sarcastically answered her.
Whatever she would have said next became swiftly forgotten. She stared at his profile, very serious but tired, drained.
“Then it’s true? You are engaged?”
“The marriage will take place early Fall.”
She did not notice the breath that had caught in her lungs until it became unbearable to hold any longer. She looked down while her heart did something strange, and she did not want him to see her expression.
“Engaged,” she finally managed, and then asked, “To whom?”
“Elizabeth of Westcott, the daughter of Earl Wescott. You met them. They were present at the wedding.”
Yes, she did remember. Earl Wescott was a member of the Higher Nobles, and he and his wife and daughter had stood in during the exchanging of her and Jacob’s vows.
“Since when?” She suddenly asked. “Why have I not heard of it?”
“The proposal was set out before me many months ago, but I only recently accepted. I have told nobody as of yet. Only you.”
Her eyes searched the ground. This idea of him marrying made her feel peculiar.
“Then,” he began, “Jacob will find another man to perform the duties he has entrusted me with. I imagine that will please you.”
Her eyes skipped about the ground. “The news will disappoint him.”
“If he had any clue the reason behind this sudden decision it would not. He would then surely approve. You, yourself, should be relieved.”
“I am not,” she blurted, and then turned so that he could not see her face. She leaned against the ledge and stared down below. It seemed the ground was swirling round and round and round. She closed her eyes and braced herself. Too much wine. She’d had too much. And this. She’d already imagined him married, having children, and rarely presenting himself…perhaps he would bring his wife along when he did visit, and his children after she bore them.
She felt incredibly frustrated by her emotional state, could not comprehend why this troubled her so much.
“Do you love her?” She came to ask.
“No.”
Now she could not help but look at him. “You will wed a woman you do not love?”
“Such arrangements are not uncommon. You know this.”
“Usually for the sake of land or of an heir or both.”
“Land, I have. I imagine children will come soon enough.”
“Something I cannot give my own husband,” she said more to herself than anything.
“Because you are not able, or have yet to sleep with him?”
Her chest rose and fell and all sorts of sensations crashed over her all at once. “Again you overstep your boundaries. What is your obsession with my virtue? While it stays intact I am promised the ability to return to my calling.”
“Jacob will not have drawn his final breath before the deed is done.”
“You think yourself so wise.”
“I can see through you.”
“Can you?”
“You constantly fight your natural sentiments, desires that naturally exist, yes, even in a woman like yourself…especially after she has fallen in love with a man….and even if she has not.”
“You seem intent upon having me withdraw from my husband.”
“I am content to think of you as you are. Untouched. Perhaps it intrigues my imagination. Perhaps I am intrigued by the woman I spied upon in the gardens in Harp, a woman who is before my very eyes changing…for the better or for the worst I cannot say. I imagine it is yet to be known what this lifestyle will truly do to you.”
“You have no right to judge me.”
“You are not without imagination? Surely you have imagined being made love to.”
“I despise you and your filthy mouth. If Jacob could hear the way you speak to me.”
“All you must do is open your own mouth and tell him. He will believe you…and dismiss me from his sight, which would be well with me, I suppose, seeing as to how I am so close to doing so on my own anyway.”
“Why?” She prodded. “Why so swiftly?”
“Because I want you, Rachel, simple as that. I have for some time now. I cannot help but express it to you. I cannot keep myself from it.”
“And you claim to care for Jacob as if he were your own father.”
“No, I care for him as he is a dear friend, a man worthy of respect and honor, and who has proven himself to be equally as loyal as I have been these many years. Now I find myself in the wrong. Terribly in the wrong. But I am a mere man. I did not intend to betray him.”
“How have you betrayed him?”
“I simply have. Perhaps not in deed. But in my mind again and again and again.” He looked down. “I have decided to have a wife and children. This will be beneficial in many ways. I know you have sensed my sentiments. I cannot keep them hidden from him forever. I am talented only to a degree. Just the same, I cannot continue to lust after a woman I can never have. I have not had to do so under any circumstance, and here I find more than one circumstance. Not only are you pure, but belong to a man I would never betray.”
“Neither would I.”
“I have distracted myself but to no avail for any extended period of time. So, then, I shall set my desires elsewhere, upon an estate of my own…and a family.”
She shook her head. “It is not fair of you to marry this woman when you do not love her. It is not fair to her when…when she could very well be happy with a man who does love her. To be united with a man who has no love for her…is that at all fair?”
“Why should you care?”
“Maybe I truly don’t,” she said and turned around, tears brimming her eyes. “The thought of you marrying…it disturbs me.”
“It seems everything about me disturbs you.”
“Because you are so-so-so damned annoying.” She glanced down and up again. “What has become of me?” She asked, more to herself than anything. “I have turned into a horrible woman.” Her chest rose and fell as her mind began to skip over the past few weeks. “I—I drink. I curse and hate. I take pride in this—this credit. I become angry and jealous. I lust and I fear. I am afraid.”
“Afraid?”
“Of who I may become…just as you say, it is happening before my very own eyes, and not only mine. For the first time in my life I am afraid of how I feel. All the worse I cannot share it. Not with anyone, not even with God. I am too ashamed to face him, even.”
He touched her arm as if to console her, and then her hand. As if by some magnetic force, he began to draw her to him and she allowed him. He embraced her, holding her to his chest, caressing her hair, and saying very close to her ear. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. And you may share your feelings, even without speaking them. There are no secrets, Rachel. I know you well. Already in this short time. You are proud because you are admired. How could you not be proud? You curse because of your lusts, and you drink because you fight them, and because of your anger, and because of your jealousy. It is a cycle that many a noble woman has fallen into, but that few regret, only to do whatever they aspire so long as they continue to be praised and envied and wealthy.”
She allowed him to hold her there, her cheek against his strong chest. She closed her eyes, telling herself to pull away but unable to. With her fists she took hold of his shirt, but did not withdraw.
“I think,” he quietly began, resting his cheek atop her head, “that I may need to abandon myself from here altogether.”
“You have already abandoned us. Jacob will be so disappointed.” She pulled away from him, although still holding to his shirt. “You needn’t tell him just yet. Please.”
He simply stared down into her blurry eyes for a moment, and his eyes gave him away, even before he spoke she knew what
he would say.
“I plan to tell him when I return, and also to leave in the near future to establish myself, prepare a place for my soon-to-be wife.”
“Very well then.” She pushed him away. “Go! By all means, leave him just like that.”
“I have little choice than to take my life in this direction, one I had planned to take anyway at one time or another. Now is as good a time as ever. I fear my feelings for you will become even stronger, something that I will surely not be able to withstand. I also have other fears.” He fell silent, thinking to himself before coming close to her, and she did not back away when he lowered his head and dropped a kiss on her cheek. He pulled away, looking deeply into her eyes, saying again, “I have other fears.”
He ran his knuckles down her cheek and her neck and shoulder.
Rachel felt as if she was smothering. She took a step back, placing a palm over the cheek she had allowed him to kiss. No, she had not drawn away, and had he chosen to do so, he could have very kissed her on the lips.
“Please go,” she told him, a single tear streaming from one eye. “Please.”
And he did.
******
There were many farewells that morning as she prepared for her ride home. Many gifts were bestowed upon her, trinkets of all kinds…earbobs and strings of pearls and rings passed from one generation to another. Small children even provided concoctions of their own…..drawings and reefs—one of which she placed upon her head and wore, waving out at the people as she departed the manor.
All had gone well…except there was one single solitaire question which nobody could answer. Just where on earth was Roselyn? Nobody could provide an answer for her other than they did not know. Not the servants of the manor house. Not Tilly or Zaria. But Zaria, although believable, seemed to have kept something back. It appeared she knew something, although the whereabouts she swore she hadn’t a clue, and Rachel believed her. The maiden seemed to have vanished into nowhere.
There was no time to dwell upon it. She merely left a final request with every member of the manor house. If the maiden was to appear, if she was discovered, that she should be immediately transferred to the palace.
The ride back was very awkward, although she and Marcus did not ride together as the last time. Marcus had purchased a horse in Orland, and rode ahead with the guards. Rachel had that night pled for forgiveness. It wasn’t a small matter, allowing him to hold her like that…to kiss her even if it was only on the cheek. She could have very well allowed him to kiss her on the lips.
But the way he had so tenderly held her, caressing her hair and soothing her. She could still feel the touch of his hand gliding down her jaw, her neck, the crook of her shoulder, touching her in a way meant only for lovers. In her mind, the greatest debauchery of all was these feelings she had for him, truly that she could not deny—no, not to herself or even him, perhaps. Something she was learning. Such feelings, when shared between two people, could certainly be recognized and possibly strengthened because of the sharing of them. They were certainly acknowledged. While she’d been pushing them deeper and deeper inside, even from the very first recollection of him, that very first encounter, she had buried these attractions deep within her as if to hide them not from the world, but from herself…and now from the world. From Marcus? No, he had seen them all along. From Jacob? Indeed, for he hadn’t a clue. Or did he? Perhaps he’d sensed it all along, some fascination between them. Then she doubted. But wondered just how she would hide her heart from him. Or even how she would rid herself of the disturbing attraction. She imagined only one way. To draw closer to Jacob. Yes, surely that would suffice.
But with or without this idea, with or without Marcus in the picture, she had already wished to draw closer to him. She loved him. She loved him dearly. And even thinking about him along the way put butterflies and flames of fire in the pits of her stomach.
As for Marcus, she cursed him in her mind for approaching her at all to begin with, for putting her in such a position that night. If only she hadn’t stepped outside with him. If only he would have kept the news of his engagement to himself. If only she would have fled and gone off to her private chambers to collect herself and avoid such a thing ever happening.
She felt guilty and unforgiven. Would she be able to face Jacob? How? Wouldn’t her eyes give her away? Wouldn’t he see straight thru her, just as Marcus apparently had, and as she had him all along?
She closed her eyes against the idea and replayed an event time and time again that hadn’t even taken place. And she fell asleep, not awakening until they were near home.
******
One guard had ridden up ahead of them to make the announcement. She was well on her way, and Jacob was waiting. As they came near the city, she spotted him. He was so tall and handsome sitting astride his horse. Her heart palpitated at sight of him. Suddenly all the past was gone. There was only now, and she was ever grateful to see him. She could hardly wait for the carriage to get to him.
When it did he dismounted his horse. She stepped out into the mid-afternoon day. They instantly embraced, and he kissed her passionately.
“Rachel,” he said quietly. “My dearest Rachel. How good to have you back.”
“How good it is to be back,” she returned and tilted her head to receive another passionate kiss. He smoothed a hand down her hair, drawing away. “I trust all went well?”
“Yes,” she and Marcus replied in unison. He sat astride his horse, staring down upon the touching scene they made. He offered one calm, peaceful grin. “Your wife is adored by the majority, and I could see why. She handled herself like a queen.”
Jacob grinned proudly at her. “I imagined she’d already won the hearts of the majority when the event was brought to my attention.” He studied her closely. “I imagine you are tired.”
“Some,” she admitted. “But I slept well during my stay.” She thanked the wine for that. Under particular circumstances, without wine she would have otherwise tossed and turned throughout the night.
“I cannot say the same,” he told her. “The days were well. The evenings, long. I worried for you.” He refocused upon Marcus. “But I should have known better than to worry. You were in the best care…the best hands of all.”
She glanced up at Marcus, noticing how well he covered up, probably doing a better job than she herself at that moment. For she felt her eyes giving her away, but just for a moment. She was able to snap to her senses and appreciate the moment all over again.
******
Marcus heard her giggle and watched them kiss. His eyes glistened. A combination of happiness and envy for his friend filled his heart.
They started to walk away together, their arms behind one another’s back. Jacob stopped to fling a hand in the air, both a greeting and a thanks for having brought her safely home. Marcus raised his hand as well, lowered it, and considered which direction to take.
Southward, he decided. Yes, Southward to Port Templeton. He would go there…and perhaps stay for a very long time.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
But he did not stay gone long, or even travel to Port Templeton at all to begin with. He went to Rowan, instead, and visited Patrice who, like Marie in Port Templeton some time back, insisted he’d actually made love to her, and for the first time after having been intimate companions on and off the past ten or so years.
Patrice tried to get him to stay longer, and to reveal all of what she called the “secrets” of his heart. He refused, not only to stay, but to say anything about anything at all that was affecting him. She prodded, and he merely dropped a kiss on her forehead claiming he would visit again soon.
A few hours later he was in Orland where Roselyn had been detained the evening he’d left Rachel alone on the terrace.
“You cannot insist this,” Sir Troy had scolded after he’d ordered the arrest.
“I do insist it.”
“By what authority, and without the lady’s permission?”
“B
y authority of Lord Trent, which rests upon my shoulders. You will arrest her and say nothing of it to Lady Trent. Is that understood?”
The arrest was made and kept between him, Sir Troy, and the two guards who secretly detained her.
Upon returning, Marcus went to and entered the prison along with the prison keeper who led the way to the proper cell. He unlocked and opened it to reveal a tiny, unpleasant room where Roselyn sat back to the wall, clutching her knees to herself, face streaked with dirt and tears.
Upon seeing him, her eyes brimmed with hope. She began to stand, grasping at the wall to pull herself up.
“Leave us,” Marcus commanded the guard, peering at her through suspicious, slanted eyes.
“S-sir M-Marcus.” Chains rattled as shackles had been bound about her ankles. She stood as best she could, her body trembling quite noticeably. Her voice quivered as well when she said, “Th-they…they took me. They took me and…and they arrested me.” A few tears dropped from her eyes. “Have you come to take me from here?”
His eyes glanced about the tiny cell, a despicable little room with a horrid stench to it. But if she was guilty at all of conspiring against Rachel or Jacob either one, she had every right to be there.
“I am here to question you.”
She just barely shook her head. “What questions?”
“How did you know he would be here?”
“I told you,” she softly reminded, “Lady Trent—“
“—knew nothing about it,” he loudly finished for her. “You lied to me.”
Her eyes rounded at the accusation. “No,” she whispered. “No, I…I did not.”
“You did! Your mistress had never met nor spoken to Victor Trent before that night.”