Taking her big horse from the livery corral, Rhoswyn tore off through a secondary road south that would take her out of the village and to the countryside beyond. Sibbald’s Hold was only an hour or so away; she knew she could make it by nightfall.
At that moment, she only had one thing on her mind – going home and forgetting about the three days of her life when she’d been her happiest. For her, it had only been fleeting and the life to be, the one she’d had a taste of, was only something now to be revisited in her dreams. Troy’s words had made it clear that the dream was ended.
Mayhap I do not need you at all.
For certain, the dream was over.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It had been less than an hour after the start of the skirmish Rhoswyn had instigated, an hour that had Troy stewing in his anger with his wife. He’d killed at least three de Troiu soldiers and wounded a few more before they fled in a panic.
Meanwhile, three of his own soldiers had been wounded so he’d helped one of the sergeants tend to the wounded, one man with a fairly serious gash to his forearm. The merchant who had accumulated such a pile of goods for Rhoswyn was also the one who supplied fine silk thread to sew the wound up. Troy took care of it, as he was a good battlefield medic. He sewed up the man’s arm and purchased the goods for Rhoswyn.
In truth, it had taken Troy all that time to calm down. He’d been so bloody confused about Rhoswyn that he’d literally had to put her out of his mind while he mopped up the fight she’d started.
The husband she adores.
Those words kept flashing through his mind, as much as he tried to ignore them. He had himself convinced that she’d only said it to soften his anger against her. She’d lied to him about why she’d entered the fight when the truth was that, perhaps, she really couldn’t help herself. She’d been raised a warrior and the scent of a battle in the air brought all good warriors in for the feeding frenzy. She’d tried to tell him that it was because she wanted to defend him.
He just couldn’t believe her.
He didn’t want to.
It was all very puzzling, in truth. As he paid for the merchandise and thanked the shaken merchant for supplying the goods for Rhoswyn, he noticed that his wife hadn’t gone back into the merchant’s stall as he’d told her to do. He assumed she was somewhere between the merchant’s stall and the livery, more than likely sulking after the tongue-lashing he’d given her. In truth, it was a painful conversation for him to remember. He regretted some of the things he’d said to her because he’d said them in anger, but he didn’t regret all of it. There were lines that needed to be established in this marriage so it was good to establish them early.
Still… some things, he should not have said. As he came out of the merchant’s stall, pondering the things he’d said to Rhoswyn, he found Audric standing on the roadside.
“You were not hurt in that skirmish, were you?” Troy asked him.
The priest shook his head. “Nay, m’laird,” he said. “I stayed well away from the fight. Who were those men?”
Troy glanced out to the village center, which had been torn up a bit in the fight. Only now were villagers returning to repair the minimal damage.
“Enemies of my father,” he said. “I saw them enter the town when we were standing here, waiting for my wife in the shop, but I’d hoped not to confront them. In fact, I’d hoped to leave this village without a battle but it seems that was not to be. Speaking of battles, where is Rhoswyn?”
Audric shrugged. “I have not seen her since the fight started. But I will admit – I hid across the road, over in the field. A battle is no place for me.”
Troy looked at the little man, a half-grin on his lips. “Then you did not see Rhoswyn challenge them?”
Audric shook his head, appearing somewhat concerned. “Did she, now?”
“She most certainly did.”
Audric sighed. “I canna say that I am surprised, given that the lass knows warrin’.”
Troy’s smile faded and his jaw began to tick faintly. “It is all she knows,” he said. “I suppose I cannot expect miracles after only three days, but I was hoping she would have the sense not to try and fight again.”
“Again?” Audric repeated. “’Tis goin’ tae take more than three days tae break the woman of what her father has done tae her. Ye’ve been patient so far; ye must continue tae be patient.”
Troy sighed heavily. “I am afraid that I was not very patient with her this time,” he said. “She said that she was defending the husband that she… oh, it does not matter. I believe she said it simply to make an excuse for entering the fray.”
Audric was watching him closely; the man seemed greatly troubled over the situation. “She said that she was defendin’ her husband? It isna unusual for a wife tae defend her husband, m’laird. With Lady de Wolfe, however, I have a feelin’ she’ll not back down from any fight that involves ye.”
Troy didn’t like the sound of that. “I am afraid of that, to be truthful. She is going to get killed if she keeps that up and I do not want to bury another wife. It would be… difficult.”
Audric sensed that there was something more on his mind. “Aye, it would be difficult,” he said. “Ye’re concerned for her, then?”
“Of course I am concerned for her.”
“Is that why ye became angry with her? Out of concern?”
Troy was becoming increasingly agitated. “I became angry with her because she inserted herself where she did not belong,” he said. “I am perfectly cable of handling a volatile situation and I certainly do not need the help of a woman. She made me look like a weak fool, and then for her to justify it by saying she did it because I am her husband and she adores me… that was a cheap trick, a lowly attempt to play on my sympathies.”
Now, the situation was starting to make some sense. The woman had displayed some sentiment and de Wolfe was having trouble accepting that. He was careful in his reply.
“Since the moment ye and the lady married, ye’ve been inseparable,” he said. “At least, it seems that way. I have seen ye two together a great deal. I thought ye were gettin’ on splendidly.”
Troy kicked at the ground, agitated. “We are,” he said. “At least, we were. Oh, hell, I do not know anymore. I thought we were getting along well enough, certainly well enough considering our first meeting.”
Audric studied the man, his irritation. “And ye feel as if she has somehow betrayed that? As if it was all a lie?”
Troy stopped kicking the ground. He was having difficulty looking at the priest. “She tried to tell me that the reason she challenged those soldiers was because she adored me and she did not want to see me injured,” he said. “’Tis just like a woman to say something like that, to play on my sympathies.”
“What if I told ye it was the truth?”
Troy did look at him, then. “It could not possibly be the truth.”
“Why not?”
He scowled. “Because we have known each other three days!”
Audric smiled faintly. “I’ve seen the way the lass looks at ye,” he said quietly. “When she told ye that she adored ye, I dunna believe she was lyin’. I believe she does.”
Troy just stared at him and, as Audric watched, something odd rippled through his expression. Was it disbelief? Was it joy? It was difficult to tell.
“How can that be in so short a time?” Troy asked quietly.
Audric shrugged. “Look at the life the lass had before she met ye,” he said. “Not much of one, if ye ask me. Raised by a father who wanted a son, never knowin’ someone to be kind and patient with her. Ye gave her all of that, m’laird. Ye endeared yerself tae her. Of course she adores ye. And a woman like that… with such strength and fight in her… she probably adores ye with everythin’ she has.”
Troy’s gaze lingered on the priest a moment before looking away. He was starting to think that he’d been overly cruel to Rhoswyn when she confessed her feelings. But she had terrified him, for so many reas
ons. Was it true? Did she really mean what she’d said?”
Confusion reigned.
“I do not want her adoration,” he finally muttered. “I cannot have it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I swore I would never love anyone other than my wife, Helene. My heart belongs to her and it always will.”
Audric could see the conflict in the man and he felt rather sorry for him. In a gesture of pity, he put his hand on Troy’s forearm.
“Helene has no more need for yer heart,” he said softly. “She’s with Our Lord and in heaven. She has all the love she needs. Do ye really think she’d be so selfish as tae expect ye tae never love another? Wouldna she want ye tae be happy again?”
Troy thought heavily on Helene; whereas her sister, Athena, Scott’s wife, had been a bold personality, passionate in everything she did, Helene was the quiet and passive type. A generous woman with a heart of gold. Troy knew the answer to Audric’s question – of course she would have wanted him to be happy again. She would have wanted him to love again.
It was his own guilt that was holding him back.
“I do not know anything anymore,” Troy said, shifting the basket of goods he was holding and setting out for the livery. “I do not know what I want to feel, for anyone.”
Audric didn’t say anything more about it. It was clear that Troy was in a great deal of turmoil and, sometimes, a man had to sort such things out for himself. As Troy headed off to the livery to find his wife, Audric followed. He followed because William had asked him to keep peace between his son and his new wife, and Audric suspected this might be one of those times. He was determined to do what he could.
But Rhoswyn wasn’t in the stable when they got there, and neither was her horse. Realizing she had fled, Troy knew it was to either one of two places – either she’d gone back to Monteviot, which he highly doubted, or she’d run home to her father, home to Sibbald’s Hold where no one would become angry at her for starting a fight or for defending a man with all her heart. In truth, Troy had no doubt she’d gone back to Red Keith.
His nasty words had sent her right back to her father.
It was with a heavy heart that he realized what he’d done. He further realized what he had to do – he had to get her back. He had to apologize for his angry words, but beyond that, he wasn’t sure what more he wanted to say. Could he tell her that he adored her, too? Probably not. He wasn’t sure he could form the words, terrified that they were true words. All of it, true. But he knew he had to bring her back, no matter what. She was his wife and he wanted her by his side, where she belonged.
Troy sent his men back to Monteviot while he headed for Sibbald’s Hold, less than an hour’s ride to the east. He’d never been to Red Keith’s stronghold but he knew the general direction, and a confirmation from Audric told him that he would be heading down the right road.
Although he’d told Audric to return to Monteviot with his men, somehow, no one seemed to be obeying him today. Audric followed him and Troy was halfway to Sibbald’s Hold when he finally realized the priest was trailing him. The man did a rotten job trying to stay out of sight. Therefore, Troy came to a halt and waited for the man to catch up to him, and, sheepishly, Audric did.
Beneath the setting sun across a gloriously green landscape, Troy and Audric headed to Sibbald’s Hold together to try and salvage what they could of Troy’s marriage.
Troy knew he’d been wrong. But whether or not he could tell Rhoswyn was the key.
*
She wouldn’t talk to him.
Keith knew something terrible had happened when his daughter had come charging into the bailey of Sibbald’s Hold. In truth, he’d been expecting her much sooner and he’d been expecting to defend himself against a very angry young woman, furious that he’d married her off to a Sassenach. But the young woman that returned to Sibbald’s Hold didn’t seem angry; she seemed devastated. She’d dismounted her horse, run into the tower, and run to her chamber and slammed the door. No amount of coaxing from Keith or Fergus or even Artis or Dunsmore could get her to talk to them.
She sat in her chamber and wept.
They could all hear her.
It was a situation filled with mystery, not the least of which was how she’d been dressed; in a lovely cote and her hair had been washed and styled. She looked like a true lady, something none of them had ever seen before. That astonished them almost more than her abrupt return.
As the afternoon turned into early evening, Keith sat on the steps outside of her chamber and listened to his daughter weep. Eventually, the weeping faded and there was only silence.
Dark, uncomfortable silence.
“Rhosie, lass?” Keith called to her on more than one occasion. “What can I do for ye? Why did ye come home?”
No answer.
There was no answer for a solid hour after her return. The weeping had ceased, that was true, but that made Keith uncomfortable. Rhoswyn wasn’t the silent type. He could only hope she didn’t have a dagger in the chamber with her and had slit her wrists in her hysteria. Not that she was the dramatic sort, but stranger things had happened. She’d spent three days away from her family and her home, and there was no telling what had gone on. Finally, nearly two hours after she’d returned home, he knocked softly on the chamber door and called to her again.
“Rhosie, please,” he begged softly. “What has happened? Why are ye returned?”
Still no answer. Frustrated, and concerned, Keith was about to turn away when the door suddenly jerked open. He froze, waiting for Rhoswyn to come forth, but she didn’t. Timidly, he peered into the room only to find her over by one of several small windows that brought ventilation and light into the rather dark tower of Sibbald’s. The window faced west and she watched the sunset as colors of gold and pink danced on the stone walls. Hesitantly, Keith entered the chamber.
“Are ye all right, lass?” he asked, genuinely concerned. “What happened?”
Rhoswyn didn’t say anything for a moment; she had only recently regained her composure and wanted to keep it. She didn’t like to cry or suffer emotional outbursts, but that was exactly what she had done. She didn’t want to do it again.
“He says he doesna need me,” she said. “If he doesna need me, then I am home tae stay.”
Keith’s brows drew together. “And that was what drove ye home in tears?” he asked, incredulous. “Surely there is more tae it than that, lass. Did he beat ye?”
“Nay. And if he did, ye know I would beat him in return.”
Keith nodded. “That’s the daughter I raised,” he said proudly. “Was he cruel tae ye, then?”
Rhoswyn shook her head. “Nay.”
Keith scratched his head, confused. “If he dinna beat ye and he wasna cruel tae ye, then why did ye come home in tears? Surely it was somethin’ terrible.”
Rhoswyn sighed heavily. She didn’t want to share her deepest feelings with her father. But at the moment, she was emotionally battered. She’d just received the biggest disappointment of her life. It had felt so good to have someone to talk to, like Lady Sable or Troy or even the priest. She and her father didn’t have that kind of relationship but she found herself wanting to tell him everything.
She simply couldn’t hold it back.
“The marriage ye asked of de Wolfe was the best thing ye could have done for me,” she said, turning away from the window to look at him. “I canna describe how it was, Pa. All I can tell ye is that the past three days at Monteviot have been the best days of me life. They were kind tae me and Troy… me husband… he is the most wonderful man in the world.”
Keith was shocked to hear it. Truly, the man was at a loss. “He is?” he asked, astonished. “Then why are ye home, lass?”
The question was too difficult for Rhoswyn to answer. She began to tear up so she looked away from him, her gaze finding the sunset landscape beyond the window once again.
“Because I canna be what he wants me tae be,” she said, her throat ti
ght with emotion. “He wants a wife, not a warrior, and I canna be a wife only. ’Tis in me blood tae fight. Ye taught me that. But he doesna like it when I do. He finds it shameful and… and I canna shame the man.”
Keith was slowly walking in her direction as she spoke, coming to stand on the other side of the window, his focus on her face as she watched the sun set. He wasn’t a particularly sensitive man, but he could sense a great deal of turmoil from his daughter. She was the strongest woman he had ever known. And now, he sensed that somehow, somewhere, the English had broken her. He didn’t like to see it.
“Ye are shameful tae no man,” he said, his anger turning towards Troy. “Did he tell ye that?”
Rhoswyn quickly wiped at tears that were threatening to fall. “He told me that I made a fool of him.”
“How did ye do such a thing?”
She hesitated. “Because we went tae Jedburgh and while we were there, wicked soldiers confronted him,” she said. “I went tae help him and he told me I shamed him.”
“How did ye help him, lass?”
“I defended him,” she said. Then, she turned to him angrily. “I put meself between me husband and the men who would hurt him. I couldna stand by and watch him become injured or killed, Pa. I had tae help him so I did. I adore the man and I dinna want tae see him hurt!”
By the time she was finished, she was weeping again and Keith stood by, stunned, as he watched his daughter break down. But in that nearly-shouted explanation, he saw a good deal of the situation and it was far more than he’d expected. His daughter had tried to fight men off from her husband who, as a knight and a competent warrior, didn’t take kindly to his wife trying to fight off his enemies. But more than that, she said something very key to the entire situation – I adore the man. Shockingly, Rhoswyn had feelings for the Sassenach she was forced to marry.
Aye, Keith was seeing a good deal clearly.
“Oh,” he said, trying to digest what he’d been told. “I see. Ye love the man, do ye?”
Rhoswyn wiped at her face, tears dripping off her chin. “I dunna know!” she said. “I… I suppose I do. Aye, I do. But he is ashamed of me and I am never goin’ back tae him, do ye hear? Ye canna make me and if ye try, I’ll… I’ll run off and ye’ll never see me again!”
The Dark Brotherhood: A Medieval Romance Collection Page 25
