by Glint, Chloe
He continued to search the wood, even as his heart ached.
****
Camille walked, her eyes downcast. She heard footsteps and ducked. She didn't wish to be found. She wasn't ready yet. If Kale located her now, she wasn't even sure how she would react. She'd cry maybe, but she wouldn't have the proper words to say to him. People who really loved each other wouldn't cheat. The fact that Kale had betrayed her meant that he didn't love her. The rift he had created could not be mended, no matter what honeyed words he spoke to her.
As she bit her bottom lip, something crashed to her right. She realized it was a man falling over a log. She gasped. It was Sir Thomas with a maid trailing behind him. He cursed on the ground and flailed aimlessly for a moment. He staggered to his feet with a tear in the bottom of his pants. If the situation had been different, she would have smiled.
"That blasted boy, tearing into the woods like that," Sir Thomas muttered. "This wasn't how it was supposed to go."
"Sir, we will find him," said the maid. "Though perhaps it is best that you go repair your knee before you search further."
"No. I won't go back." Sir Thomas raised his fist to hit her. She yelped and ducked, and he lowered his hand. "That blasted wife of his. She caused this. I need to find him now. Talk some sense into him. He spat in the face of my gift when I was just helping him."
Gift? She swallowed. Don't tell me… But whether the maid had been a gift or not did not give her husband cause to touch her.
Yet she found herself creeping behind Sir Thomas anyway.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kale stepped over a log and paused. Lying on the ground in front of him was his wife's necklace. He scooped it out of the dirt and swallowed. If his wife had torn it off of her neck, then that could only mean that she was beyond furious with him. She had been so pleased when he'd given it to her. Clutching it was all he could do to keep from yelling out her name. He loved his wife so much. This was the cruelest joke his father had ever played, even crueler than giving him the wrong bride. When he entered this marriage, he'd been a child and his pain had been miniscule. This was true pain because he had lost his real love.
"I promise you, everything will work out," Mr. Kent whispered, noting his despair.
He found that hard to believe. Swallowing, he tucked the necklace into his pocket. He hopped over a log and scrambled through foliage. A stray branch caught his leg and sliced through flesh, but he didn't care. His thoughts were only on Camille. He had to save her, no matter what.
His sense of time slipped away. It could have been hours or minutes. Ahead of him, he heard the sound of foliage crackling and froze. Camille! He didn't hesitate and tore through the forest. Mr. Kent called his name behind him, but he ignored the man. If he was about to run straight into the clutches of a wolf, so be it. He rushed between two trees and ran straight into his father.
As Kale grasped the man's arm, gasping for air, his vision grew blurry. He would have rather have run into a wolf than see his parent now. His stomach sunk in disappointment that the person moving had not been Camille. That disappoint was soon replaced by blood boiling rage. This was all his father's fault. Every. Last. Thing. Kale may have been intimidated by the man in the past, but now all he felt was anger.
"Kale, you idiot." His father dusted himself off. "I have been searching for you everywhere. Where have you been? You need to come to the house at once. This party was for you. The guests are wondering where you're at."
Guests? His wife was missing and all his father could think about was guests? He ground his teeth.
"Father, do not speak another word to me now, or heaven knows what I will do." Kale's fists clenched at his side as he shook with rage. Every part of him was hot. "You destroyed my marriage because of your stunt with the maid. She forced herself upon me and made me place my hand upon her. Camille misunderstood and believes something awful."
"I know. That was what I told her to do." His father's voice was clipped. "The woman needed to be put into her place, and you needed to learn yours. I am pleased it turned out the way it did."
"You…you…" He had known his father had planned to give him a mistress, but he hadn't known the man had wanted Camille to know about it. "You planned all of this? You are sick and twisted."
"Ah, is that the worst you can say?" His father raised an eyebrow and grabbed his arm. "Come back inside now and get cleaned up."
He ripped his arm away. If his inheritance was taken away from him because of his insubordination, then so be it. He didn't care anymore.
"No." Kale growled. "I will stay out here and look for my wife. When I find her, both of us will leave this house and will never return."
His father's eyes widened in surprise. "It seems marriage has done something for you after all, boy. You've never had the gumption to talk back to me before. I don't know whether I am pleased or not."
"I'm not speaking to please you, so don't take it positively." Kale turned around and stomped through the forest in the opposite direction. "Now leave me be. I'm going to find my wife."
"You will head back to the house." His father grabbed his arm again and forced him backward.
If he had lost his sense of time before, it was nothing compared to now. Everything slowed down. All of the rage at his father he had withheld over the years came rushing to the surface. This incident with Camille was the last straw. He whirled around, his fist balled, and punched his father straight in the nose. Blood gushed out of his nostrils and showered him with warm, salty liquid. The man tripped on his own two feet and fell on his rear. He stood over his father, panting, and glared down at the man who had caused him so much grief.
"I said I am staying out here," Kale said.
"You will regret this, boy." His father wiped blood from his face and staggered to his feet. "You are going to get a harder beating than you've ever had in your entire life."
"I'd like to see you try," Kale hissed.
He didn't know who moved first, he or his father. One second they were both standing a shoulder's width apart, the next they were in each other's faces. Kale swung hard, pummeling every inch of his father he could reach. It didn't matter that the man was two heads taller than him and a lot more muscular; he had blind rage on his side. He barely felt it when his father punched him in the eye. He retaliated by throwing his fist into the man's stomach and sent him stumbling backward.
"Kale!" screamed Camille to his right, leaping out from behind a tree. She ran toward him, but Mr. Kent seized her by her stomach to keep her from entering the fray.
His moment's pause caused by his relief of seeing his wife was interrupted when his father grabbed him by the neck and shoved him against the tree. He chocked as his throat burned, but he kicked and made contact with his father's groin. The man yelped and rolled onto the ground, coming to a stop in front of his own maid's feet. He staggered upward, wild and predatory like an animal. He didn't look much like Sir Thomas who spent time with the princes of England.
He looked like a monster. One that Kale was no longer afraid of.
****
Camille stood, trembling, as Mr. Kent held her around her waist. She watched her husband and his father throw punches at one another. Sweat trickled down her forehead and her teeth chattered. She had heard the discussion between Kale and Sir Thomas. It was one thing for a mistress to approach her husband and solicit him for lustful passions, but it was another to force herself upon him and make him touch her. The thought of it made her angry enough to spit poison. Her heart still ached from what she had seen, but now her soul burned with rage instead. She wished she could help Kale and keep him from being injured. She strained against Mr. Kent's grip harder.
As if Mr. Kent was reading her mind, he said, "Let them fight. Kale needs to win this battle. He can't remain at the mercy of his father for forever."
Wringing her hands, she shook her head. Sir Thomas punched Kale in the stomach. She screamed. Her husband groaned and fell backward a few steps, but
he did not go to his knees. His entire face was bloody, either from his father's nose or from an injury he himself had sustained. It made her sick.
"What if he gets seriously hurt?" she whispered. Or what if they kill each other? Then we'd never get to speak about this horrid matter and heal the pain that this night has caused. She bit her bottom lip.
****
Kale was shoved backward by his father. The man repeatedly punched him in the stomach, and every blow made his vision flash white. He gasped. Was it over? Had he lost this fight? His whole body ached and he couldn't see out of his right eye. He could taste iron in his mouth. Just as he tumbled to his knees and bent over, he stared at his own trembling hands drenched with crimson. Bees buzzed in his ears.
He heard Camille scream his name. Camille, he thought. Her sobbing drove daggers into his ears. How many times had he heard weeping because of his father? Countless times, he realized.
He recalled all the times his mother wept when she found out he'd taken yet another mistress.
He recalled how his father had tried to tear him away from his only true home to send him to a governess he didn't know.
He recalled how his father had hurt Camille and knew she still might not listen or trust in him ever again, even if she was here now.
His father smirked in front of him, even as he wobbled. The man believed he'd won. A second ago, Kale had believed it too. Not now. He teetered to his feet and glared at the person who'd made his life hell. His father's eyes widened and flickered with something he'd never seen before—respect and fear.
"We're not done yet." Kale spit out blood.
As his father tightened his fists, he let out a roar and rushed him. His father threw a punch into his shoulder, but he didn't feel it. He caught the man around the middle and sent him flying to the ground. He straddled his parent and punched him twice in the face so hard that his knuckles burned. He punched every inch he could reach, but the man was no longer fighting back. Mr. Kent seized him around his stomach and pulled him backward.
"I'm not done yet!" Kale roared.
"Yes, you are." Mr. Kent's voice was strained from his effort of holding Kale still. "Look at the man, Kale. He's not moving. He's down."
It took him a moment for him to even calm down enough to see straight. After a moment's pause, though, he realized Mr. Kent was right. His father lay upon the ground unmoving, his eyes shut. The rage was washed away by panic. Good God. Did I kill my own father? He'd wanted to teach him a lesson, not commit murder.
"What did I do?" Kale said. "Is he dead?"
"He'll be fine." Mr. Kent released him. "I've seen worse fights in the servant corridors over an extra loaf of bread. You just knocked him out."
"Oh." His stomach flooded with relief. He tumbled to his knees.
"Kale," Camille cried. She rushed over to him.
Seeing her made him both overjoyed and panicked at once. He seized her around the waist and clutched her close before she could leave his side.
"Camille, I swear you didn't see what you thought you saw. Please believe me." He couldn't catch his breath. "I would never not be true to you. I love you. I wish I had proof—I wish I had something—but I don't."
She placed her finger on his lips.
"I believe you," she said. "I heard everything."
"You did?" He was so relieved his skin tingled. "I have so much to explain. Just don't wander into the forest again. I was so worried."
"I won't." She looked over her shoulder. "We'll talk later, but look at the state of you. We need a doctor and something warm to set you right."
He'd never been so glad Camille was his wife than when she reached out to him and soothed his tremulous soul with a steady hand.
Chapter Twenty-Four
As Camille stood over Kale who lay in bed, it was hard to forget what she had seen with the maid. She knew it was her own low self-esteem speaking, but she couldn't help but feel uneasy. The sooner her husband was examined by the doctor and they could flee this place, the better. She blew out a sigh and took a seat at her husband's side. Already, his white chest revealed swollen bruises. She reached out and traced his pale skin. He placed his hand over her own.
"Camille, about what happened." Kale swallowed. "I am so sorry. I wish I could say more than that or fix this somehow."
"I wish it hadn't happened." Camille hung her head. "My heart still hurts. I'm shaken up on the inside."
"Do you doubt me?" Kale whispered. "Do you think I haven't been true to you?"
"I don't doubt you." She sighed. "I am just ashamed. If I had more self-confidence, I could handle this better. I'd finally gotten to a point where I could look into a mirror without cringing, but then this happened."
He squeezed her hand. "Then I will have to spend time building up your confidence again."
"That can't happen overnight." She sighed.
"That's the beauty of being married." Kale kissed his wife's hand. "I'll have a lifetime to build you up."
The words touched her. She forced a smile on her face, though it felt as though her lips were made out of concrete. The moment was interrupted, though, by the sound of door opening. The doctor came inside. He was thin and tall with a beard the color of cinnamon.
"You and your father certainly did quite a bit of damage to one another," the doctor said. "Your father had to be bled. His nose will never be straight again either, I fear."
Camille tried hard to feel bad for him, but instead all she experienced was a twisted sense of pleasure. She wondered whether she was a bad person, finding joy in somebody's suffering.
The doctor walked over to Kale and examined him. The man's lips were pursed. "Well, they'll be bruising. I can see that much already. What hurts?"
Kale grimaced. "Everything."
The doctor frowned and leaned down to treat him.
****
Kale sat in the carriage alongside Camille. The ride home from his father's estate was a quiet one. Every time the carriage bounced, he winced because his body ached so badly. He glanced over at his wife out of the corner of his eye and saw that she too looked as though she was suffering, but internally. He reached over and held her hand. He was grateful she was with him, grateful that she had come to know the truth. Yet he still wished the incident hadn't happened. This weekend had stolen some of his innocence from him.
"I will take no more of my father's games," Kale said.
Camille gazed him and nodded. "Kale, there is one thing to be said for this weekend. I saw how brave you are."
How brave I am? He froze. How was he brave? He'd mostly proved himself to be a fool, allowing his father to string him along with his games.
"How so?"
"You conquered your father at long last," she said. "When we were together, you spoke often of how intimidated you were by him. It must have taken great courage for you to face him."
It was strange. It should have taken him great courage, but when it came down to it, he had not hesitated or been overcome by fear at all. Maybe the idea of his father had intimidated him more than the man did. All of the sudden, it felt as though a great weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.
"I wouldn't have been able to face him at all if it wasn't for you." Kale reached out and touched her cheek. "You've made me braver and stronger. I can't believe at one time I thought we were an unsuitable match. You have made me a better person who is endlessly happy."
She flushed. "It does my heart good to hear you say that. I needed to, what with how bruised my soul is after this weekend."
Kale leaned toward her. "I love you, Camille."
"I love you too." She smiled and leaned in as well.
When Kale kissed her, warmth spread throughout his entire body. His bride fit perfectly in his arms—and in his heart, too.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Camille trembled with excitement as Kale squeezed her hand. Snow coated the ground in a thick blanket as the carriage pulled up in front of her parents' house. She was overjoye
d she got to see her family at long last. It had been months. She'd never forget the betrayal of her mother and father, but she chosen to forgive the pair. Not for them, but for her. Also, it was hard to be mad at somebody who had delivered her the perfect gift—a husband who loved her unconditionally. Her heart had mended a great deal since the night with Sir Thomas and the maid. Her confidence had grown a lot as well.
"What are you thinking about?" Kale asked, drawing her from her thoughts. "Your eyes are misty. Are you nervous?"
She beamed and pecked his lips. "No. Just happy."
When she tried to pull away, Kale didn't let her and held onto her waist to keep her close. "Did I tell you how lovely you look today, Wife?"
"Yes, but I wouldn't mind hearing it again." She grinned.
"Well, you are very beautiful—" Kale pecked her lips. "—and smart—" He kissed her three more times. "—and gracious."
The carriage driver cleared his throat.
"I would continue, but it seems we have an audience," Kale said.
"Tonight, then." She brushed a strand of hair out of her husband's face. "And I have some compliments to say to you as well."
A door opened and somebody squealed. She assumed it was Gabrielle, because her mother was not capable of making such a sound. She winced and then grinned. She turned around just in time to see her sister elbow the befuddled carriage driver out of the way.
Her sister was just as glorious as ever. Her golden hair had been braided and she wore a dress of fine silk. When Camille looked to see her husband's reaction to her sister's arrival, she was surprised but pleased that he didn't even look at the girl. He was still staring at her with burning affection in his eyes. He really does love me, she thought, her heart warming with pleasure. She finally climbed down from the carriage and stepped out into the snow.
"Camille!" her sister cried and flew into her arms. She sobbed into her shoulder. "I am so glad you're back. I've missed you so much. It's been hard, being here without you."
She wished she could say the same. She loved her sister, but her moments with Kale had been the most wondrous of her life. As she bit her lip, her husband stepped down from the carriage and smiled at Gabrielle. Camille's parents appeared in the doorway. Their eyes widened in shock when they saw her, even though they had known she was coming.