She gasped, shocked by both his accurate guess of her intentions and his heartless words.
“Then I suggest we avoid the conversation,” he continued as he lifted his cup and drained it yet again. “It puts me in the foulest of moods.”
She held her tongue, for she dearly longed to ask what didn’t cause him to be in a foul mood. “All I ask for is a few moments of your time.”
Nicholas’s gaze caught on something over her shoulder, and she looked across the room to find Father Michael staring at her. The priest waggled his fingers and gave her a friendly smile, his boyish charm back in place.
She returned his greeting with a nod then ate another pumpe. Though her visit with Father Michael hadn’t resolved anything, she felt better for it. The priest seemed to think she could do no wrong. An admirer was rather pleasant compared to the gruff behavior her husband displayed toward her.
Nicholas’s frown darkened as his focus remained on Father Michael. “Sharing secrets with the priest, are we?”
Heat stung her cheeks. How did he know so much? It was as though he had a spy who informed him of her movements. She swallowed the suddenly tasteless meatball. “What secrets would I have to share?”
He leaned forward, his blue eyes boring into her. “Did you tell him of the events of yesterday?”
Anger flooded her, washing away the embarrassment. “You mean when you found me unfit to bed, though I am your wife? Why on earth would I discuss such a topic with anyone?”
He raised a brow, his gaze shuttered. “Confessing your sins? That must’ve taken some time.”
“I have committed no sins. ’Tis you, not I, who have sinned by not honoring our marriage before God.”
He snorted.
“You, my lord, are an ass.” She clenched her teeth before any other foul words escaped her lips. What had brought on his belligerent attitude?
“Oh?” He exclaimed, his tone full of false shock and dismay. “My lady does not care to hear the truth?”
“You are the one who fails to listen.”
“I refuse to listen to lies.”
“You refuse to listen to anything that doesn’t fit your version of the truth.” Elizabeth paused, realizing there was an unnatural silence in the hall. As she looked around, she realized several people had stopped eating to watch them.
Nicholas’s gaze followed hers. He drew a deep breath as though to calm his own anger.
She reined in her temper and continued in a quieter tone, “I simply wish for the chance to explain the details surrounding William’s stay with us. Perhaps ’tis you who are afraid to hear the truth.”
“A crowded hall is not the place to have this conversation.”
“Precisely. After the meal would be better.” Moments passed before she realized she’d won when he no longer denied her.
She drew a deep breath and turned her attention back to the meal. She’d eaten several bites before it dawned on her what she was eating. “Spring peas.”
Nicholas suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Aye. What of it?”
“I thought onions were on the menu for this evening. The cook said we had more of those than anything else.”
“Humph.” Her husband’s attention was engrossed in the food before him, and he made no further comment.
A new bench in her chamber and peas for supper.
She was convinced Nicholas was responsible for both and didn’t know what to make of it. How could she reconcile the different sides he portrayed?
“They’re my favorite, you know,” she said, hoping for a reaction.
“Really. Nay, I did not know that.” He sounded bored by the conversation.
“Liar,” she said under her breath.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing, my lord. Nothing.” A smile curved her lips no matter how hard she tried to remove it. Perhaps she should hold on to her hope after all.
When the meal was finished, Nicholas stood and, with a brief nod to her, left the hall. Although at times he remained to play chess with Walter or visit with his men, tonight he seemed most anxious to leave.
Elizabeth knew he hoped to avoid her. Again. But no matter. She wouldn’t allow him to escape. Nerves tapped along her skin as she rose to follow him.
He stepped out the front door, and Elizabeth was close behind.
The sun had set, leaving the horizon awash in rose and amber, the colors soft and warm. A chill filled the air now that the heat of the sun wasn’t there to beat it back.
Well aware Nicholas could outdistance her with his long stride, she called out to him, “My lord?”
He turned to face her from the foot of the steps, his blue eyes cool and watchful.
Elizabeth hurried to catch up with him. “A word if you please.”
Nicholas shook his head and turned partially away, his gaze fixed on the distant hills. “Why do you insist on this? It serves no purpose. I already know what happened.”
“Please, Nicholas. Listen to what I have to say.”
He tilted his head to the side then touched his temple for a moment, a sure sign that he had another headache brewing. That was a discussion for another day, for the severity and the frequency of them concerned her.
She steeled herself from the sympathy stirring in her and pressed her case. “Will you do as I ask?”
“Certainly. Let’s go through this all again,” Nicholas said, his tone impatient.
Though his attitude stung, she’d expected nothing less. Why did that not take away the pain his derision caused?
Still, she had to grab this opportunity. Too much was at stake to let it slide by. The chance for a life with this man was worth nearly any risk. Surely if they could work out their differences, starting with him understanding why she’d left William at his doorstep, his anger toward her would lessen, and they’d have a chance for a future.
“As I mentioned earlier, my cousin, Gerard, escorted my father to the tournament in which my brother competed. Gregory had performed well in past tournaments, and Father was anxious to see him take to the lists. During the first pass of the joust, Gregory struck the right shoulder of his opponent. It was a good strike, and should’ve unseated the other man from his horse. But the knight held on, and they prepared for another pass.”
Nicholas said nothing, but at least he didn’t stop her. She took that as encouragement to continue.
“That next pass was delayed. The reason given for that is unclear and varied depending upon with whom my father spoke. But during that delay, Gregory’s adversary chose to pick up a lance with a steel tip rather than a blunted one.”
She rubbed her arms as the coolness of the air became more pronounced, or perhaps it was just the thought of what her brother had endured that nipped at her. She hated thinking about those details. Had Gregory been pleased with his hit and eager for the next pass? Or had he sensed something was wrong at the delay?
She’d watched Gregory joust once, and it had been an impressive sight. The thundering of the horses’ hooves, the clashing of the lances, and the roar of the crowd. Considering her brother’s standing in the tournament before his death, she was certain this joust had been no different.
“You can guess what happened after that. On the next pass, my brother’s opponent struck Gregory and knocked him off his horse. He dismounted and walked to where Gregory had fallen and looked down at him, then walked away.”
That particular part of the story that her father had told her bothered her the most. Why had the man done that? To make certain Gregory was dead? She wondered if she’d ever know the reason her brother had been killed so senselessly.
She shook her head to try to clear her troubled thoughts and refocus on the facts. “Gregory died before my father made it onto the field to see him. My cousin, Gerard, was there and saw the whole thing. There was no doubt as to what happened.”
“So your father believed William to be the knight who struck down your brother?” The flat tone of his words disappointed Eliz
abeth. All her efforts had gained her nothing, certainly not his understanding.
“Gregory’s opponent wore William’s colors. William still had them on when Father found him. Several people witnessed the entire incident. William’s guilt was confirmed by the injury on his right shoulder which matched the strike Gregory had given him. Surely you can see why my father took action,” Elizabeth argued, angry that her tone had become defensive. Angry that Nicholas didn’t – or rather wouldn’t – understand.
“Your father acted on information that was false, despite the circumstances.” Anger laced Nicholas’s voice as well.
“How was he supposed to know that? Given the situation, you would’ve done the same.”
Nicholas’s expression showed no reaction to her argument.
Elizabeth stalked away a few steps, her back to Nicholas, trying hard to hold her emotions under control. She needed to keep her wits about her.
Then it dawned on her, what she’d missed seeing all along.
She whirled back to face her husband. “You would’ve done the same. In fact, you did the same. You sought revenge for what was done to your brother.”
Nicholas scoffed and folded his arms across his chest. “You can’t compare me to your father.”
“It seems quite appropriate to me.”
“’Tis nothing of the sort,” he said as he gestured with his hand. “I didn’t rely on circumstances. I knew I had the guilty person.”
She opened her mouth to speak but paused as doubt at his words filled her. “Nay. That is not true. You didn’t confront us until you’d been at Amberley a full day. Why is that?”
Now Nicholas turned and walked away. He stared across the bailey at the darkening sky. “This conversation is ridiculous.”
“Tell me why. What led you to us? Why did you even come to Amberley if you weren’t sure it was the place you sought?”
Nicholas spun around, his fury taking her back a step. “The whys of it make no difference. I found the right place and the guilty party. Your father nearly killed my brother by letting him rot in your dungeon. That, I will not forgive.”
Elizabeth shook her head, hope slipping from her grasp.
“And you!” He pointed his finger in her face. “You were no better. You left William dying in a cart at the gate of my holding, then fled. The act of a coward for certain.”
Elizabeth’s eyes filled with tears, her heart reeling with pain at his accusations, for they were true. Yet, she’d come this far. She had to make him understand why. “I became convinced of William’s innocence, so I freed him and delivered him to you. I was certain he’d be better off with you. Then, I fled to protect my father.”
“That is not how I see it, my dear wife. Not only did you abandon William, you tried to deceive me from the moment I arrived at Amberley. You hid your father. You even went so far as to try to seduce me.”
Elizabeth gasped in dismay. “How dare you!”
“I only dare because ’tis true. Deny it if you can. Did you or did you not ask me to kiss you?”
Mouth agape, Elizabeth could hardly form a thought. Who was he to rub her nose in her behavior as if she were a misbehaving puppy? She lifted her chin. “You know I did, for I found myself very taken with Lord Trisbane. You deceived me as much as I did you.”
Nicholas ignored her words. “You knew who I was all along! You used your wiles to distract me with the hope that I would forget the wrong you committed against William.”
“Nay!”
“You tried yet again just a week past. And what of yesterday? Surely you lured me to that abandoned cottage for the same purpose!” Nicholas towered over her, his rage a palpable wall that she could not scale.
Hurt sliced through her, swamping her anger, stealing her breath. How could he think such terrible things of her?
Her words came out in no more than a whisper. “I believed you to be who you said you were at Amberley, a lord traveling through, and indeed, I asked for a kiss, for a moment of happiness. As for the rest...” She wrapped her arms tight around her chest in an effort to ease the pain that pulsed through her entire being. If he truly thought those horrible things of her, no simple words would change his mind. “I mistakenly assumed you would honor our vows – ”
“I am honoring our agreement,” he interrupted. “The one you choose not to remember. Do not ask me again for what I am unable to give.”
The silence drew long between them as she stared at him, shocked that she’d misjudged him this badly. The lump in her throat grew until she could hardly breathe. He was right. She’d agreed to all of it, including their loveless marriage. He only asked her to hold to her words.
“Clearly, I was wrong,” she said at last. “Wrong to believe in you. Wrong to hope for more.” She clenched her jaw, damned if she would let her tears fall. “My apologies for bothering you with this matter. I understand perfectly now. It won’t happen again.”
Elizabeth hurried up the steps of the keep before she made a complete fool of herself. She’d done that far too many times already. Well, no more.
“Elizabeth, wait.”
Wait for what? she wondered, as she blinked rapidly to clear the tears from her eyes so she could see her way up the steps. He’d made it abundantly obvious that he had no intention of understanding her or her father’s actions, nor of forgiving them.
That was it then.
She had to put away the foolish hope she’d held deep in her heart. The hope that had built during the tender moments in the cottage. The hope that his kind acts involving a bench in her bedchamber and peas for supper had kindled. Though he might be her husband, he was as far out of reach as the first day she’d met him.
He was not hers. He would never be hers.
“Elizabeth!”
She picked up the front of her kirtle, ran the rest of the way up the stairs and wrenched open the heavy door of the keep, somewhat surprised she could manage it, for she hurt everywhere, inside and out. Sobs wracked her as she made her way to their chamber.
Her heart remained in shambles at her husband’s feet.
*
“Hell and damnation!” Nicholas watched her hurry away, feeling helpless and frustrated and so angry he could hardly contain his fury.
Fury at himself.
Fury at her.
Fury at this impossible situation in which he now found himself.
What did she want of him? Could she not see that he had nothing to give her? Yet she pushed and pushed him, leaving him no choice but to resort to cruelty to push back.
He strode across the bailey, seeking escape.
He tried not to regret his words, for he’d seen how deeply they’d hurt her. He hadn’t realized how much hurting her would hurt himself. What did she see in him that attracted her at all? Didn’t she realize Lord Trisbane didn’t exist? She’d been correct at supper. He was an ass. A beast inside and out.
Thank God he’d thought to turn the tables on her, otherwise she would’ve pummeled his weak defenses until he revealed his cursed second sight. He nearly laughed at the picture of her that formed in his mind, of the horror or, even worse, the pity that would come over her expression.
Yet could that be any worse than what he’d just witnessed?
When he’d first discovered her deceit, he’d believed her to be a trickster, a trollop, with the intent of seducing him to make him forget his goal of revenge.
But now, when he looked back and remembered their first conversations, the sweetness of her expression, the innocence of her kiss, he knew she’d had no foul intent. She’d protected her father as best she could. He couldn’t blame her for that.
The events of yesterday had been his fault, not hers. He simply couldn’t resist her allure. The more time he was with her, the more difficult it became to hold himself from her charms.
She’d worked hard to improve the keep. The food and drink were better, furniture had been rearranged, and a multitude of other little touches had been made to enrich h
is life as well as the lives of the people at Staverton.
Christ. She was right.
He was no different than her father. He’d chosen revenge above all else.
Still, he’d put himself in this hell, and now he had to find a way to live with it. If he couldn’t control himself with her, a babe would be the result, and that was unthinkable. He wouldn’t create another monster to suffer through life as he had.
He’d be far better off without her sending him those sidelong glances, those tentative smiles, making him remember the feel of her in his arms, her passion. Perhaps now she’d stop looking at him with hope in her eyes.
He closed his eyes, but it did no good. He too well remembered all of it.
Damned if he wasn’t going to miss it.
And curse her for twisting him up like this. Revenge was a simple meal, best eaten alone. Why wouldn’t she let him feast?
Chapter Twenty
Nicholas shook his head as he waited in the dark kitchen in the middle of the night. What in the hell was he doing? He rubbed his hands over his face, telling himself he should leave and find a place to sleep. He certainly wouldn’t be able to rest in his own bed, and right now, succumbing to oblivion seemed an excellent idea. He rose to throw some more wood on the fire.
She’d be chilled when she got there.
He sighed heavily at his irrational behavior and sat back down on the stool he’d dragged into the darkest corner of the room to wait.
This wouldn’t be Elizabeth’s first visit to the kitchen after everyone else had sought their beds. Why didn’t the woman just eat more at supper? Then she’d have no reason for this trek when she should be sleeping. Wandering about the keep in the shadows of the night was a poor idea. Never mind that he often did the same.
After their argument earlier, the last thing he should do was seek out Elizabeth. Not after what he’d said. But he wanted to see her, if only for a moment, to make sure she was all right.
And if she wasn’t? What then?
A soft noise caught his attention, saving him from having to answer the question. He held perfectly still, waiting.
Elizabeth entered the kitchen cautiously, a blanket pulled over her shoulders. She glanced around to make certain no one was there. He caught his breath as her gaze passed over him, but his dark corner kept his presence a secret.
Vengeance 02 - Trust In Me Page 19