Unbidden (The Evolution Series)

by Jill Hughey

  “Afraid like those men were today.”

  “No, I have never been afraid of a fight.”

  “Why didn’t you hurt them? Or kill them?”

  His head swiveled so he could study her, eyes black in the faint light. “Did you want me to?” he asked.

  “No. It is just…when Theo made that joke about it, I thought for a moment that you might. That maybe that is what soldiers do.”

  “Some would have,” he said with a shrug. “Some men have a penchant for inflicting pain, and they aren’t only soldiers. I never developed the taste for it.”

  Rochelle considered this for a moment. “I think it takes a braver and stronger person to have let them go.”

  He clutched his chest in mock amazement. “Why, Lady Rochelle, did you just pay me a compliment?”

  “I suppose I did,” she said with a soft laugh. She wiggled her toes, inadvertently pressing them against his hip through the blankets. He reached one hand down to grip her foot, gently squeezing as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to rub it.

  “Theo was only exhibiting the army sense of humor,” he said after a moment.

  She nodded in understanding. “So what are you afraid of?”

  “I told you a few days ago: I am afraid of being useless, of not having a purpose in life.”

  “Is that why you need Alda?” she asked bluntly.

  He sighed. “I do not think so. No.”

  “Then why do you need it?”

  “I want a home, Rochelle. A home and a family. And yes, a purpose in the world other than killing people.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, staring into the fire.

  “You are thinking that I can buy that anywhere. A little estate in Bavaria, perhaps?”

  “Or a forge that is already equipped to make weapons,” she interrupted.

  “There are two problems with that plan.”

  “And they are?”

  “The first, you know very well, is that Louis wishes for me to go to Alda.”

  “Oh, him,” Rochelle groaned with a roll of her eyes.

  David chuckled and squeezed her foot in reproach. “The second is that, having met you, I do not want anyone else as my wife.”

  She propped herself on one elbow, her eyes widening. He stared back at her with an intensity that could not be missed. “You have only known me for a week.”

  “So?”

  “That is too short a time.”

  “Too short for what? To see your true character? To understand how your mind works, or what makes you laugh, or that you would rather go hungry than eat three-day-old bread?”

  “You do not know me!” she insisted.

  “I know enough,” he said quietly. “And so do you. You just do not trust your instincts. That is why you are struggling. Your instincts are telling you something that goes against what you have decided in your head.”

  “First of all, I am not struggling. Secondly, I have never found my instincts to be particularly helpful in the day-to-day management of my estate. Why should I consult them for a decision this momentous?”

  “We are not talking about growing grapes. We are talking about people. You and me living and working side by side for the rest of our lives. I freely admit this is new territory for both of us, but as I see it, we have several things going for us that most couples don’t. We enjoy one another’s company. We are mutually attracted to each other.” He put his hand up to silence her automatic protest. “And we would both be happy to remain undisturbed at Alda until the second coming. Most unions are built on much less.”

  “In most unions, the wife is treated like chattel, ” Rochelle replied.

  “On what marriages do you base that dismal opinion?”

  “On which do you base your cheerful one?” she shot back.

  He thought for a moment. “Many of the soldiers I know depend on their wives entirely to run the household and the finances when they are away in service. It is said that Louis himself relies a great deal on the counsel of his empress.”

  “That turned out so well for her. She got stuffed in a convent by her stepsons.”

  David barked with laughter. Rochelle shushed him and glanced quickly at the sleeping forms around the fire, not able to suppress a smile herself.

  “You will have no worries on that account. You will have no stepsons, and if any of our natural born children attempt such a coup, I will send them to bed without supper, or some other heinous punishment.”

  Her heart thudded in her chest. Children. His children would be –

  “We would have beautiful children, Rochelle. Even you cannot find a contrary retort for that.”

  They stared at one another for a long, heavy moment, each knowing the other envisioned babes in arms and rosy-cheeked toddlers. Rochelle broke the trance to gaze at the fire again. After a few minutes, David ventured, “Will you think about what I have said?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Then I will leave you to sleep,” he said as he rose to move to his own blankets.

  She could not sleep. She’d known she wouldn’t. It was all too much. His words, these feelings, the imprint of his fingers on the arch of her foot. He was so confident, but how could she entrust her life to his confidence when she barely knew him? How could she not? As much as she railed against him, when the word husband came to mind, David’s face now floated in with it. Like him, she already could not imagine marrying another. Her real peril, however, lay in the fact that she was not sure she could imagine not marrying him at all.

  They parted outside Theo’s house in Ribeauville. Rochelle’s party stopped only long enough to refresh their supplies. David held Denes’s bridle, his jaw clenched, his whole being torn in two. If he insisted on going with her, she would see it as a sign of his intent to control her or override her smallest decisions. But, if she came to some harm on the journey, he would never forgive himself.

  “I believe we are ready,” Rochelle said quietly from her saddle.

  “Four days,” he grit out. “We will come to you in four days and I will see this heaven known as Alda.”

  She nodded, her eyes wide and clouded. He released his hold. She guided Denes away. Magnus trembled at David’s feet for a moment, first looking at Rochelle’s back, then up at his master. David pointed to her, “Magnus, guard,” he said quietly. The dog loped forward to settle in the spot at her side he had occupied since Aix.

  Rochelle looked down at him with surprise. She reined Denes in, calling back to David, “Your dog!”

  “He is traveling with you in my stead,” David answered, waiting for the argument.

  She cocked her head to one side as if considering it. “Very well,” she agreed. She turned her horse again and disappeared on the busy street.

  Theo walked to David’s side. He clapped him on the shoulder. “Masterfully done. I did not think you had it in you to let her go.”

  “I am not sure I do. I must gain her trust somehow. She seems to think that I expect a wife to be dependent and witless.”

  “If you ask me, you made significant progress on this trip. At least she is not spitting fire at you any more.”

  “That is a small consolation, I suppose. Still, I will worry until I see her again for myself, safe in her home.”

  Theo nodded thoughtfully. “We can reach Alda in a day if we do not bring the cart.”

  David looked at him, his spirits brightening for the first time all morning. “If I make haste today and tomorrow, we can set out first thing the next day. It will put us there a day earlier than I told her, but so be it.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Marian and Rochelle rode toward Alda in companionable silence. They were now just a few leagues from their home. The day and night since leaving Ribeauville had been uneventful, and both women felt the lack of interesting company. Theo’s men and Gilbert were good enough escorts, but possessed no gift for conversation.

  “Are ye excited to be hom
e?” Marian asked her daughter.

  “You know I am,” Rochelle answered.

  “Did I hear David say he will join us in four days?”

  “Yes Two days after tomorrow, I think,” Rochelle reported calmly. In her mind she had been calculating the time as carefully as she could without knowing the nature of his business in and around town. She missed him, and she despised herself for it.

  “I will have Gilbert send a message to the priest tomorrow,” Marian announced happily.

  “What?”

  “The priest,” Marian repeated. “For the wedding.”

  “I have not agreed to a wedding!” Rochelle cried.

  Marian gaped at her. “Are ye still going on like that?”

  Rochelle glared back. “Yes, I suppose I am still going on like that.”

  “But – but ye get on so well,” Marian argued, obviously confounded by her daughter. “Is yer mind still set against marriage altogether?”

  “I do not know, Mother,” Rochelle sighed. “I had not even considered marriage until a week ago.”

  “Oh, how did yer father and I fail ye in so many ways?” Marian lamented.

  “Do not try to make me feel guilty about this.”

  “I am not trying to. I am wondering how we could have raised a daughter who does not want a husband, or, apparently, children of her own. I realize ye were kept from yer own level of society, but even on the estate ye can see how things work. A man meets a woman, they marry, they have children, they work side by side to raise their family. This is not some degrading notion invented just for ye!”

  Rochelle could only blink at her mother, who rarely scolded her.

  “Tell me what is in yer mind,” Marian demanded.

  “Mother, I know the estate is at risk –“

  “Hang the estate. I am not afraid of being poor and landless. I lived a long time that way and might as well die that way.” She softened her voice. “I am asking about ye and David.”

  “Oh, Mother,” Rochelle said, feeling a flush rise in her cheeks.

  “Those pink cheeks tell me ye are not immune to him. Such a man for ye, girlie!”

  “He is still a man. Men expect to dictate everything.”

  Marian’s lips pursed. “Where do ye get such ideas? Yer father did not dictate to me.”

  “But he could have if he wanted to.”

  “Ye are being contrary. David deserves to be judged for his actions, not for what he could possibly do.”

  “I am trying. I want to see what he is like at Alda. How he gets along with the people and what he thinks.”

  “What he thinks of what?”

  Rochelle picked at the pommel of her saddle. “What he thinks of me. The real me. I have not been myself these past few days.”

  Marian smiled affectionately at her daughter, seeing an uncertainty not often revealed. “It is the real you. Having a man adds layers.” Rochelle curled her lip. “Do not scowl at me. Layers are a good thing: layers of feeling and shared experiences and common goals. I know that is frightening, but I do not think ye can turn back from it. Why would ye want to?”

  “It all seems so one-sided. He knows what he wants. He is sure we are compatible. He risks nothing in the marriage, while I feel like a lamb being led to slaughter. I cannot wreak havoc on any part of his life, while he already has me in a jumble of nerves.”

  Marian laughed. “I disagree. I think ye are so caught up in yer own fears that ye keep yerself blind to him. He spent the time ye were together to learn yer mind, so yes, he is ahead of ye in knowing ye will get along well. I agree with him on that point, for whatever my opinion is worth. As to risk, he is offering his physical protection to Alda, which is no small thing in these troubled times. As to nerves, he is calm and battle-tested. You should not expect sweating palms and stuttering speech as if he is some young whelp. But do not assume he does not have his own self-doubt. Your constant resistance would be enough to rattle any man.”

  They rode in silence for a short distance, the time punctuated with Marian’s expectant glances. Rochelle finally spoke, “I am not ready to plan the wedding yet, Mother. But I will try to be more open to him.”

  “I am glad to hear it. In any case, I will have plenty to do tomorrow preparing for our guests’ arrival. Perhaps,” she said slowly, as though an idea had just occurred to her, “perhaps I should move to yer old bedroom, and ye move to mine so we can put David in the master chamber.”

  “Mother!”

  “He would be ever so much more comfortable.”

  “I think that would make him a bit more comfortable than I want, or than is proper! The men’s guestroom will suit for David and Theo. There are plenty of beds and they can come and go as they please from the downstairs.” Without his being right next door to me, Rochelle added in her own thoughts.

  Rochelle rode back toward the house on her first full day home. She had made a whirlwind tour of the estate with her overseer, Ardo, checking on each of her primary interests. Her tenants had done well in her absence, having completed the harvest of everything but their late season vegetables. Everyone still had butchering to do and firewood to gather, normal for this time of year. She was quite pleased and rode with a slight smile on her face. It felt so good to be home, and underneath that familiar, simple happiness bubbled the unexpected anticipation of seeing David again in just two days. She had begun to admit that she really did like him. She had enjoyed his companionship. Perhaps — just perhaps — her resistance to marriage was silly, since the thought of him here made her a little giddy.

  The only news that had darkened her return was the report from several people of a stranger seen riding in the vicinity, both within and outside the boundaries of Alda. Few of her people had access to a horse. They had observed him from afar, and he had seemed careful to avoid any direct contact. All they could tell her was he looked tall, was covered in a dark hooded cloak, and rode a brown horse. Travelers passing on the road were common enough, but a person of money should always come to the house. Wandering around on someone else’s land without permission was rude.

  As she cleared the last rise before the house, a rider came into view. Magnus yipped, a sound becoming quite familiar to her as the warning of a new person in view, but a person he did not perceive as a threat. Rochelle studied the rider, recognizing the blond hair and stiff bearing. Doeg. His long blue cloak trailed down the sides of his rather unremarkable brown horse.

  Rochelle pulled Denes up. It had been Doeg snooping around her estate. Somehow, she just knew it. He must have left Aix the same day they did, or even before. She hadn’t seen him since the dinner at their little rented house.

  She knew he’d spotted her when he plastered a false smile on his handsome face and waved. “Rochelle,” he called as he approached. “I was just looking for your house.”

  She eyed him coolly. “I do not know how you could have missed it. The main road is on the other side and our lane is well marked.”

  “No matter,” he said lightly, “I am just as happy to meet up with you first.”

  “Why are you here?” she asked.

  He feigned surprise at her directness. “David sent me, of course.”

  “I left David in Ribeauville two days ago. You have seen him since then?”

  “No, no,” he laughed as if she were featherbrained. “This has been planned since Aix-la-Chapelle.”

  “How strange that he did not mention it.”

  “You cannot expect him to inform you of every little plan, especially those that do not concern you.”

  “Were you planning to stay in my home?” she asked hotly, determined to remind him of exactly what did and did not concern her.

  “I would love to,” he replied, purposefully misinterpreting her words.

  “Then let me show you the way since you seem to be a quite lost.” She urged Denes into a placid walk toward home. When Doeg brought his horse forward beside her, she lay down the gauntlet, “Where have you been sleeping the last fe
w nights?”

  He coughed delicately, “Pardon?”

  “My tenants tell me you have been wandering the estate for days.”

  “Ah, your own little network of spies,” he said unkindly.

  “They are not spies. This is their home. A stranger riding around their home is unsettling.”

  “If it was me, I am no stranger. We are all but brother and sister.”

  The lying coldness of his voice made her shiver. David she was learning to tolerate, but this man she could not trust. He relished her discomfort and caused it every chance he got. Why?

  “I see he has sent that dog with you, so he must be coming soon himself. When do you expect him?”

  “Day after tomorrow.”

  “And well he should. He will be anxious to begin his life as a man of property. So many decisions to reach and all the long winter months ahead to determine how and where to make a new master’s mark.”

  He was baiting her again, but she still knew not to what purpose. She must think. Even though he unsettled her, she had dealt with enough unpleasant people to know that directness would be her best approach. She stopped Denes within sight of the courtyard gate. She turned her head to look at Doeg straight on. “You do not like me, do you?”

  He continued assessing the stone wall that surrounded the house for a moment before answering. “Liking you does not figure. You are young, healthy, and rich. David will have control of you and all this,” he exclaimed, holding his good arm out to encompass the house and lands around it. “What brother would not be happy about that?” He trotted into the courtyard ahead of her, dismounting and untying the pack from his saddle. A boy came running from the porch to take the reins of his horse, then waited for hers.

  She rode reluctantly forward, swinging her leg across to slide off Denes. She was surprised when one strong hand caught her waist almost immediately, then another clamped the other side closer to the ground, setting her on her feet lightly. He released her and by the time she turned around, he had tucked his crippled arm back under the cloak. His blue eyes challenged her, but she merely walked to the door, opened it and invited him to follow.