The old nurse mumbled over and over, "I wait only for Sabine and Richard—then I die in peace."
When they arrived at the house, Sabine helped Thea to bed and then immediately sent for a physician. After examining Thea, the man was not encouraging; he told Sabine that the old nurse would not recover from her bout with fever.
Sabine was torn. She did not want to leave Thea, and yet she had to accompany Richard to Woodbridge. She bent to kiss the old woman's cheek. "We'll soon have you well, Thea, then you will come home to Woodbridge."
Thea rolled her head. "1 won't die here in this strange house. I want to go home."
"Don't talk, just rest." Sabine moved to the door, where she lowered her voice to Ysabel. "I'm concerned about her."
"I will remain with her throughout the night," Ysabel said. "You go to bed now."
Sabine nodded. She was exceedingly weary, but once in bed, she could not sleep. She rose several times during the night and went into Thea's room. Thea's condition had worsened, and she was babbling about the night Woodbridge Castle had been attacked, reliving the whole tragic incident.
It was difficult for Sabine to leave Thea the next day. She issued orders that the servants were to see to Thea's every need, and that the physician was to visit her twice a day. She left instructions that if Thea grew strong enough to travel, she was to be brought home to Woodbridge.
The closer the coach got to Woodbridge Castle, the more subdued Richard became. Sabine tried to engage him in conversation, but he remained silent and pensive.
It was a strange cavalcade, with their Uncle Joseph and Uncle Simon following in a carriage, no doubt discussing Richard's future.
At last Sabine took Richard's hand, thus forcing him to look at her. "If there is something troubling you, we should speak of it."
His shoulders slumped, and he seemed even more dejected. "I have been thinking of the obligations that face me, for which I have had no preparation. You tell me that many people will depend on me, and yet, I have not the knowledge to guide them. No one would be willing to follow the direction of a boy."
"Richard, the fact that you are our father's son makes you the rightful lord in the villagers' eyes—and they are ready to follow your guidance. You will have a host of people trained to aid you. Each of them will have a particular function and they will know well how to perform their duties. Uncle Simon will help you in matters concerning Woodbridge. And he has agreed to stay on while you attend school."
Richard looked from his sister to Ysabel. "You will soon leave me, Sabine. And you will also leave, Ysabel?"
Sabine realized what was bothering him, and it was time to tell him about Garreth. "Richard, I must tell you about the signet ring you found in my jewel chest."
"Did you think I wouldn't know that Garreth Blackthorn is the duke of Balmarough? I did not speak of him to you because you were reluctant to talk about him. But I find it confusing that he did not appear to know you in Paris. Would not a husband know his own wife?"
She gathered her strength. It would be difficult to tell him about Garreth. "I can see where it would be confusing. When Garreth and I were married, I was but four years older than you are now. I never lived at Wolfeton Keep. I saw him only on two occasions other than our wedding day. I was a child then—he did not recognize me as a woman." She dreaded what she must tell him now. "Garreth was locked in the tower because it was believed that he ordered our father murdered."
"Uncle Simon told me about that. But he's innocent, Sabine—I know he didn't do it."
She had no response to that. Everyone save herself seemed to believe in Garreth's innocence. "Whether he is worthy of blame or not, I want never to see him again. I shall not move to Wolfeton Keep. My home is at Woodbridge—father would have wished it so."
Ysabel shook her head. "I do not believe that you can live your life by the wishes of your dead father. This is not France, Sabine, and your future will rest on the dictates of the duke. I would not so easily dismiss him from my life if I were you."
"I will expect Garreth to cause trouble and make demands. But I do not intend to obey him. I may as well tell you both now that I have decided to petition the pope for an end to my marriage."
"Sabine," Richard said, a frown creasing his brow, "I liked Garreth Blackthorn. Too much of your life has been devoted to me, and everything you have done was for me. Is it not time to live for yourself?"
"You have been doing much pondering of late, old wise one," Sabine replied, touched by his concern for her. "Let us speak of this later. Within three hours, we shall reach Woodbridge Village—consider how elated the people will be to see you."
Richard again became silent, and after a time, he fell asleep, leaning his head back against the cushioned seat.
Sabine met Ysabel's eyes. "I know what you are thinking, Ysabel."
"I was not aware that you could read minds."
"I have decided on this annulment, and I will hear nothing to the contrary."
"I believe the duke will have much to say on the matter."
"After the humiliation I've been to him, he will undoubtedly welcome the annulment. Do you think that he wants all England to know that his wife was an actress? I pray that he will be as eager to be rid of me as I of him. For seven years, I have been married to him, and yet, for only one night was I his wife."
Sabine glanced at Richard and saw from his deep breathing that he slept soundly. "Everyone believes that Garreth was wrongly accused of my father's murder. But I will always have doubts. I want to believe in Garreth, yet dare I?"
"Only you can answer what is in your heart. I told you in Paris that I sensed no evil in him," Ysabel said.
Sabine thought back to the night she had lain in Garreth's arms while he pledged his love to her, the night she had also admitted that she loved him.
"My heart is as cold as the winter that will soon cover this land. If only I could go back and relive that last night in Paris," she said softly. "I deliberately humiliated him, and he will not so easily forgive that."
"You cannot go back—there is only forward."
"He must despise me." Sabine pulled the soft fur lap robe about her, suddenly feeling cold. "But little I care."
"So I see," said Ysabel, noting the sadness in Sabine's eyes.
The day was cloudy, and there was a chill in the air as Lord Stephen rode through the woods that surrounded Wolfeton Keep. Many of the leaves had fallen from the trees, but those that persistently clung to the branches were now ripped away by the gusting winds that sent them swirling to the ground.
Stephen urged his mount over the wooden bridge and into the inner courtyard of the Keep. He dismounted and handed the reins to the stable boy, then straightened his jerkin. Gazing up at the castle, he couldn't help but think it was very like a fortress with the thick heavy gates, turrets, and battlement towers. But there was warmth in the gray stone structure, and he knew he would find a welcome here.
Today, however, he was not pleased with the mission that had been entrusted to him. The Archbishop of Canterbury had chosen him to deliver the document because he was Garreth's friend. Stephen had spent an hour with the archbishop, during which he was informed about the importance of his mission.
Stephen still could not believe that La Flamme was the same little girl that had been so sickly and fragile at the wedding. What twist of fate had placed him between Garreth and her in Paris? He thought back to the chance meeting with La Flamme the first night he had seen her perform. Now he knew why she had befriended him—although he never doubted that their friendship was genuine. At the moment, he was concerned about what Garreth's reaction would be when he learned of Sabine's intentions. Stephen wished that the archbishop had chosen another messenger.
He was admitted to the Keep and told that her grace was in her private salon. On entering the room, Garreth's mother greeted him warmly and then offered him refreshments while they waited for Garreth.
"We don't see enough of you, Stephen, with you in
London and Garreth here at the Keep." There was worry in her voice. "1 don't know what to do about Garreth, Stephen. I am glad you're here."
"Is he ill?"
"His health is good, but I sense much anger and confusion in him. I believe something happened to him in France and I'm certain it involves a woman—yet he will not speak of it. Do you know what is troubling him?"
Stephen was glad that he was saved from answering when Garreth entered the room. He immediately saw why her grace was concerned. Garreth had no sparkle in his eyes; he looked haggard, and seemed withdrawn and distant.
Garreth gave Stephen a forced smile. "I thought that was your horse I saw in the stable. What brings you to Wolfeton Keep?"
Stephen had been holding the archbishop's message in his hand, and he now offered it to Garreth. "I was asked to deliver this into your hands."
"I have been expecting this. A summons from the king, no doubt."
"It's not from his majesty, but the archbishop."
Garreth's mother stood. "I will leave the two of you alone. Stephen, I shall expect you to remain with us for a while. I will see you both at luncheon."
"Stay, Mother," Garreth said. "I believe I know what this is about, and it's time I told you." He turned to Stephen. "It is about my wife, is it not?"
The duchess looked distressed. "Oh, Stephen, they have not discovered that Sabine is dead, have they?"
Stephen looked into Garreth's eyes. "No, Your Grace."
"Tell her, Stephen," Garreth said dully. "Tell my mother about my ... wife."
Stephen cleared his throat. "Garreth's wife has been located."
Adrienne Blackthorn looked confused, and then she smiled. "Surely this is good news! Is she well? Have they also found her brother?"
"Yes, Your Grace," Stephen replied.
"This is wonderful. I shall have everything made ready for her. When will she be arriving?"
Garreth seated his mother and turned to Stephen. "How much does the archbishop know about Sabine?"
"He told me that when he pressed her for information about where she had been all those years, she only said that she had been in France."
Garreth's lips thinned. "I have little doubt that she does not want it known about her past."
"Garreth," his mother asked in puzzlement, "what are you saying? Have you known where Sabine was hiding all these years? Why did you not tell me?"
"I only discovered her whereabouts lately, Mother— while I was in Paris."
"So that's where she fled! It's no wonder we could not find her. You must bring her home without delay."
Stephen had been watching his friend's face and he could see the veiled anger that Garreth kept under tight control.
"In that, I believe, lies the dilemma, Mother."
The dowager was bewildered. Something was not right. "Surely you intend to bring Sabine home, Garreth. Her place is here at your side."
Garreth broke the seal on the document. There was an official-looking paper and a letter from the archbishop, which he read to himself while the others waited silently for him to finish.
Your Grace,
I am sure that Lord Stephen will have explained the circumstances concerning your wife. Against my advice, she is seeking an annulment. It is his majesty's hope that you will not allow this. It is his wish that you will take yourself to Woodbridge with all haste and bring her grace to Wolfeton Keep. His majesty will be waiting for a happy solution to this situation.
Garreth handed the letter to his mother, and when she had finished reading it, she looked at him inquiringly. "What's wrong with Sabine, Garreth? Is it possible that she still believes that you were involved in her father's death? Why else would she remain in hiding, and then demand to be free of the marriage?"
Garreth moved angrily to the window. "I care not what she does. I married her at the king's insistence, but I will not raise a hand to keep Sabine against her will— no matter what the king says. I've been in the Tower before, let him put me there again."
Adrienne shook her head. "Talk to him, Stephen. Tell my son that Sabine should be brought here at once."
Stephen shrugged and shook his head.
Garreth did not turn to his mother as he spoke. "I wonder if you would be so anxious to have her installed at Wolfeton Keep if you knew of her past?" He moved to the door and glanced at Stephen. "I give you leave to tell my mother about La Flamme."
Stephen sprang to his feet. "Not 1.1 have done what I came to do. Any more that needs doing will have to come from you, Garreth."
The dowager duchess looked from her son to his friend. "Will one of you tell me what has happened?"
With a resigned intake of breath, Garreth approached his mother and sat beside her. "I met an actress who called herself La Flamme while I was in Paris."
She looked disapproving. "Did Sabine find out about the actress? Is that why she wants to end this marriage?"
Garreth called on all his tolerance. "Remember, Mother, how father was fond of saying that the Blackthorn name had never known disgrace? Because of me, we have known several disgraceful moments."
"What are you saying, Garreth?" his mother asked in a voice filled with dread. "Tell me what you mean."
"Very well. What would father say if he knew that his only son had been accused of murder and locked in the Tower, and that the present duchess of Balmarough had earned money by acting on a stage under the ridiculous name, La Flamme?"
Adrienne covered her mouth in shocked surprise. "Oh, the poor dear. She was forced to feed herself and her brother. I can understand why she might do such a thing."
Garreth scowled at Stephen, who could only smile. The dowager had such an understanding heart.
"She has suffered enough, Garreth," she continued. "You must go to Woodbridge at once and bring her home."
Garreth shook his head. "That I shall never do."
27
There was celebration in the village of Wood-bridge, since the rightful lord now resided at the castle. Even though Lord Richard was only a boy, he had been joyously welcomed home, and it warmed Sabine's heart that he was at long last where he belonged. They spent many hours riding over the estate so Richard would become acquainted with his holding.
An uneasy two months had passed for Sabine. Each day she waited for word from Garreth—but none came. As she stood at the window of her father's study, she watched the first winter snowflakes drift into the courtyard below. She spent a lot of time in this room, trying to recapture the peace she had known in her childhood, but it eluded her.
Every day she went to the crypts where her parents had been entombed. She would kneel for a long time, immersed in prayer. Her prayers were mostly for Richard because he was still confused and a little frightened about the future.
Uncle Joseph had returned to France, and Sabine had been sorry to see him leave. Each day Richard was closeted with their Uncle Simon while he learned about the operation of the Woodbridge estate. Richard was also preparing to leave for Eton in three weeks. The Archbishop of Canterbury had been instrumental in enrolling him in school.
Ysabel came up to the window and glanced over Sabine's shoulder. "It doesn't look like it'll stop snowing today."
"No, it doesn't," Sabine answered. She moved away from the window and sat at her father's desk. "I once loved the winters here."
Ysabel had placed a tray on the desk, and now she handed Sabine a cup of tea. "Sabine, Thea has been brought home. When I admonished the coachman for transporting a person in such ill health in this weather, he said that she insisted on returning to Woodbridge, so he brought her."
Sabine set her cup on the desk. "How did she tolerate the journey?"
"Not well, I fear. I settled her in and took her some clear broth and hot apple juice, but she would have none of it. She keeps asking for you and insisting that she must warn you about someone. I believe she will not rest until she has spoken with you."
Sabine rose. "I'll go to her at once."
Ysabel was watc
hful. "I heard that a dispatch came today from Rome."
Sabine nodded to the table near the door. "Yes, it was from Father Santini, who put my case before the pope. The annulment is to be granted after I put my name to the papers. I must swear that Garreth and I have never been husband and wife."
"Are you prepared to distort the truth to gain your freedom?"
"I would have done that without the slightest guilt. But now I cannot sign the papers." Sabine gave Ysabel a troubled look.
"You have changed your mind and want to remain Garreth Blackthorn's wife?"
"No, it's something else."
Ysabel was mystified. "You were so sure you wanted the annulment. What made you decide otherwise?"
There was pain in Sabine's eyes, and she clutched her hands tightly, trying not to cry. "Something unforeseen has occurred, Ysabel. If the annulment is granted, that would leave my baby without a name."
Ysabel was clearly shocked. "Are you certain?"
"Yes."
"How long have you known you were with child?"
"I suspected since our return to Woodbridge—it took me longer to accept it. Then today I received the document from Father Santini. What shall I do?"
Ysabel leaned forward, her eyes probing. "You already know what you must do. This child is issue from your husband, and there must never be any doubt that it is his child. You will have to inform his grace."
"Yes, I know that. I wish it were not so."
"The sooner it is done, the better for all."
"What if Garreth insists that I move to Wolfeton Keep?"
"He will want the baby born in his home, and it is only right that it be thus."
Sabine looked dejected. "I have no desire to go to Wolfeton Keep." She walked to the door. "I must see to Thea, and then I will write Garreth, informing him about the child."
Ysabel shook her head as she watched Sabine leave the room. It was sad that Sabine was never to be master of her own destiny. First she sacrificed herself to a marriage she did not want—then she became an actress for her brother's sake. Now, she would be under the dictates of her husband because she was to have his baby.
La Flamme (Historical Romance) Page 22