There was no reply from the stone effigy. Not that Scott expected that there would be, but after four years of avoiding this moment, now he was here, facing his dead wife and children, feeling those emotions of grief and anguish bubble up again, emotions he had healed from for the most part. But he knew he would never be completely healed until he faced what terrified him most, and this was that moment.
He was facing the results of his actions.
“It was me,” he said as he began to break down. “I did it. I put you and Helene in the carriage. I could have stopped you; I could have told you to travel another day when the land was not so soggy, but I did not. I was preoccupied with an errand for my father and I was not as cautious as I should have been. All of this… you and the children, Helene and the girls… all of this was because of me.”
His voice cracked at the end and the tears began to fall on the stone. Standing at the head of the crypt, Troy couldn’t stop the tears, either. Hearing his brother’s voice, hearing his thoughts and emotions from the past four years, were carving into him like a knife. The pain was excruciating. He was still looking away from Scott, his eyes closed as tears streamed down his cheeks.
So, the truth had come forth – the guilt Scott had felt at letting the women go on the journey that would ultimately claim their lives. It had never even crossed Troy’s mind that Scott should feel that way, for what had happened had been an accident. At least, Troy saw it that way, but Scott had clearly spent four years shouldering tremendous guilt.
God, it was horrific to hear.
“Scott…,” he began hoarsely.
But Scott cut him off. “I am sorry, Troy,” he wept softly. “I am so sorry that I caused your pain. I am so sorry that I did this to you. If I could have exchanged my life for the lives of Athena and Helene, please know that I would have. But the worst part of all was when I returned to Questing and Papa told me what had happened. As I stood there, unable to believe it, you came out of the keep and fell to your knees. As I watched, the strongest man I’d ever known vomited into the earth and collapsed right before my very eyes. And I watched it all, knowing that it was my fault. Your pain was my fault. Was I a coward for running? I was. God knows, I was. But I was too disturbed to stay, too afraid I would crumble into a thousand pieces of agony that would never be put back together again. If grief had collapsed you the way it did, what on earth would it do to me?”
Troy had his hand over his face, weeping into his hand. It was the grieving he’d done four years ago, now with his brother’s pain compounding his because Scott felt that he was to blame for everything.
Now, he was grieving for his brother.
“It was not your fault,” Troy whispered, wiping at his face and struggling to stop the tears. Finally, he looked at his brother, seeing the man he’d always loved, the man he’d been the closest to. “I never blamed you for what happened. But I did blame you for running from it.”
“I could not face you.”
“What else was I supposed to think, if not cowardice, from a man who did not have a cowardly bone in his body? How was I supposed to know you ran because of guilt?”
Scott shook his head, not even bothering to wipe the tears from his face. “You could not think anything other than what you did,” he said. “It looks like cowardice. It was. But in my defense, I saw it as self-preservation, I suppose. I saw it as removing the cause of everyone’s anguish.”
Troy took a deep breath, fighting down the tears and struggling for calm. All of the anger and resentment he’d been feeling was melting away as he began to understand Scott’s perspective.
In truth, he should have suspected it all along, but he’d been too hurt to try. Now, he understood a great deal and the hate, the bitterness, was gone. He couldn’t keep it up, not when Scott was hurting so badly. He went to his brother, a man he loved so deeply, and put his hand on the man’s face. He just stood there a moment, looking at him, feeling as if all of this was some kind of dream. Scott was really here, in front of him, and it was time for him to say everything he’d been wanting to say to the man.
He’d waited long enough.
“It was not your fault,” he said, more firmly. “It was a terrible accident. It could have been any one of us putting the women in the carriage and seeing them off. It just happened to be you. And it never occurred to me, in all these four years, to blame you for that. I do not, nor have I ever, blamed you for what happened. But I have missed you every single day of the past four years, Scott. I thought you decided you did not want to be my brother any longer.”
Scott smiled weakly, seeing the light of forgiveness in his brother’s eyes where only moments before, there had been animosity and rage. “I thought, mayhap, you did not want me to be your brother any longer,” he admitted.
Troy shook his head. “You are part of me and I am part of you,” he said. “But I am sorry you felt as if you had to stay away. I am sorry you did not feel as if we could draw strength from one another in this time of sorrow.”
Scott reached up, gripping the hand that was on his face. His brother’s touch was incredibly comforting, more than he’d ever realized. “I was a fool,” he said. “It took me a long time to come to terms with my grief and with my guilt. It was just easier to try and shut everything out so it did not consume me. The longer I stayed away, the more difficult it was to face it.”
Troy understood that. Sometimes, men had moments of weakness that they lived to regret. He gripped his brother’s hand tightly.
“Tell me that you will not disappear again, then,” he said. “Tell me that you have come home to stay and that we shall never again be without each other.”
Scott was nodding his head even before Troy finished his sentence. “That is why I came home,” he said. “It was time. When I received the missive regarding James’ wedding, I knew I had to come. My wife encouraged me to come.”
Troy smiled faintly. “Papa said you had married again.”
Scott smiled in return. “Avrielle is her name,” he said. “She is a remarkable woman of great wisdom and I considered myself blessed. You will like her, Troy. I know you will.”
“I am sure of it.”
“Papa tells me that you have married again, too.”
Troy nodded. “Rhoswyn is Scots,” he said. “A finer woman you will never meet.”
“Papa also says she terrorizes you.”
Troy broke down into a laugh. “When you meet her, see if she does not terrorize you, also,” he said. “She is the only child of Red Keith Kerr and he raised her like a son. She fights like a warrior, Scott. Do not tangle with the woman, for you will lose.”
Scott was warming to the conversation, so incredibly glad to be speaking to his brother again, as if he’d never left him. The warmth, the bond, was still there. It hadn’t been completely destroyed, and he could feel it strengthening by the second.
“Red Keith Kerr, you say?” he repeated. “Of Sibbald’s Hold?”
“The same.”
“I did not even know he had a daughter.”
“Nor did I until it was too late.”
Scott laughed. Troy laughed. Suddenly, they were throwing their arms around each other, embracing one another tightly. All of the hurt, guilt, and resentment was gone in that instant, never to come between them again.
“God, I’ve missed you,” Troy said, his throat tight with emotion. “Swear to me you will not leave me again. When you left, I felt so abandoned.”
Scott clutched his brother tightly. “I swear I will never leave you, not ever,” he whispered. “Forgive me for leaving you, Troy. Forgive me for not being strong enough to stay.”
Troy stopped hugging his brother long enough to look the man in the eye. “You did what you had to do in order to keep your sanity,” he said. “I suppose I understand that now. Everyone was trying to tell me that, but it was difficult to swallow. But as Papa has said all along, every man grieves in his own way. My way was to remain here and to suffer through the a
gony. Your way was to try to forget about it. But I am so sorry you felt as if you were responsible for everything. It was not your fault.”
Scott forced a smile at his beloved brother. “I will come to accept that someday.”
Troy patted him on the cheek again. “I hope you do,” he said. “Now… I suppose we should go back to the hall. Everyone will want to see you, you know. Already, it is probably killing Mother to give us this time alone.”
Scott’s grin broadened. “Papa is probably having to tie her down somewhere.”
Troy snorted. “Then we had better go back to the hall and spare them both the agony.”
Scott nodded, but his gaze moved to the crypt containing his wife and younger children. “Go ahead,” he said. “I need to spend a few moments with Tee and the girls, as I should have done before.”
That gave Troy pause. “Will you be okay?”
“I will, I swear it.”
“As you wish,” Troy said. His eyes lingered on the man for a moment. “I am so glad you’ve come home. It is the best Christmas gift I could have hoped for.”
Scott gave him a lopsided grin. “A Christmas miracle is more like it. The miracle is your forgiveness, Troy.”
Troy simply shook his head. “It is the bond of brotherhood that goes deeper than any common bond,” he said. “Whatever happened four years ago… remember that we are stronger together than apart.”
“Agreed.”
Giving his brother another hug, Troy wandered from the vault, leaving Scott alone in the shadowed, cold depths. Once he heard Troy’s boot falls fade, he turned to the beautiful effigy of the woman he once loved.
Reaching out, he put a hand on her cold, stone face.
“Mayhap if Troy can forgive me, you can, too,” he murmured. “Mayhap someday, I will feel as if you have. But I do want to tell you that I have remarried, Tee. I know you would like her – she is kind and generous, and I love her. I never thought I would find love again, but I have. I hope – nay, I know – that you are happy for me.”
It made him think of Avrielle, his wife, and all of his children, both living and dead. He’d suffered through some terrible tragedies in his life, but he was home again now. He would be stronger for it. Reaching out, he touched the effigy one last time.
“I thought you would want to know that I am happy again,” he whispered. “I hope you are, too.”
There was no answer, of course, but Scott smiled at the effigy just the same. He’d been dreading this moment, the moment when he would face his wife’s crypt. But it was becoming easier as the moments passed. He was coming to grips with it and he knew it wouldn’t be the last time he came to visit Athena and the children. In fact, returning to Castle Questing felt as if he’d never left. Wherever he lived, Questing would always be home to him. As much as he loved his new wife and his life with her in the wilds of Cumbria, Questing was where his family was.
As difficult as it had been, he was glad he’d come home.
Very glad.
Bending over the crypt, he kissed Athena, Beatrice, and Andrew’s effigies, feeling that some larger part of him was now complete. No more guilt, no more missing his family, no more trying to shut out a part of his life that could not be forgotten. He didn’t want to forget about it any longer.
Someday, he’d bring Avrielle to Questing and then, the healing process would be complete. He would come full circle. But until that time, he intended to enjoy the family he’d not seen in four long years.
Finally, the Prodigal Son had returned. Peace had been made.
On a dark and cold December night, the de Wolfes had the most joyous Christmas of all.
THE END
A Joyous de Wolfe Christmas is an extended epilogue for ShadowWolfe and DarkWolfe.
About Kathryn Le Veque
Medieval Just Got Real.
KATHRYN LE VEQUE is a USA TODAY Bestselling author, an Amazon All-Star author, and a #1 bestselling, award-winning, multi-published author in Medieval Historical Romance and Historical Fiction. She has been featured in the NEW YORK TIMES and on USA TODAY’s HEA blog. In March 2015, Kathryn was the featured cover story for the March issue of InD’Tale Magazine, the premier Indie author magazine. She was also a quadruple nominee (a record!) for the prestigious RONE awards for 2015.
Kathryn’s Medieval Romance novels have been called ‘detailed’, ‘highly romantic’, and ‘character-rich’. She crafts great adventures of love, battles, passion, and romance in the High Middle Ages. More than that, she writes for both women AND men – an unusual crossover for a romance author – and Kathryn has many male readers who enjoy her stories because of the male perspective, the action, and the adventure.
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A Joyous de Wolfe Christmas: A de Wolfe Sons short story (de Wolfe Pack Book 6) Page 5
