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The Conquered Brides Collection

Page 53

by Renee Rose, Ashe Barker, Sue Lyndon, Korey Mae Johnson


  Strangely, I found that I wanted nothing less than the fate of being left alone to my thoughts, so I turned around and began to help. I began to fill my arms with the wood he’d found and when I brought it to him, he thanked me sweetly. Only on my way back to the woodpile did I notice a small bundle of twigs that lay separate from the rest. For some reason, seeing them made me still in my tracks.

  “What are these?” I asked, striving to keep my voice light though my heart began thudding ominously.

  I could feel Antony’s eyes on me as he answered. “They’re switches. I want you to pick one.”

  I swallowed hard. “Why?”

  “Firstly, because I asked you to, my lady. As to what it will be used for, I think you already know. However, I could show you, if you like.”

  I’d begun shaking my head long before he’d ceased speaking. “No, thank you,” I whispered, unable to take my eyes off them. “It’s not necessary.”

  “I thought not.” I watched silently for a few moments as he worked on the fire. Once he had a small blaze, he turned to me once more. “Come, little dove. Warm yourself by the fire.”

  I thought of saying that I was not his servant to order around, but I had been drained of every emotion, which robbed me of even my oft impertinent tongue. As such, I walked toward him and sat down on a fallen log in front of the small blaze, watching as he tried to coax it higher by adding the dry leaves he found to the flames.

  “It’s been a hard day for you,” he acknowledged, his eyes on the fire.

  “It has.” My voice was soft and defeated.

  “I’m sorry for it, my lady.”

  I couldn’t help it—a laugh broke free from my lips before I knew what was happening. I smothered it quickly, but not before he noticed. “Why ever should you be?” I queried. “I am the one who has lost everything.”

  “Yes, and that is why I am sorry, Cecily.” This time, he looked directly into my eyes as he spoke. “Do you think it gives me any joy to see your pain?”

  “What were you doing at the castle that day?” The words came tumbling out before I knew I was going to say them. “Were you there to steal horses too?” The question propelled me to my feet, and I began to pace, struggling not to set free the tears that prickled my eyes. “But that doesn’t make any sense! How could you have known what would happen?

  “Cecily, come, sit back down.” His tone was warm and inviting, but I refused to be swayed.

  “I demand to know,” I told him, keeping my voice as strong as I could manage.

  “Ah, I see. And who commands me? Is it Cecily, Duchess of Hohenzollern, or the frightened widow I saw only moments ago?”

  “I suppose… I suppose if what you say is true, those people are one in the same.” I did not turn back to look at him and there was a silence that seemed to stretch on forever as Antony let my words hang in the air between us.

  “No, my lady,” he answered at last, “I was not there to steal the horses. I was sent as a scout for the Holy Roman Empire. I was to report back and tell my findings on whatever I could spot. How many horses, for example, the condition of the armory.”

  When I turned to him, moving so slowly that I hardly moved at all, all the blood had drained from my face. “You… you are my enemy.”

  “You have always thought it so,” Antony replied levelly. “Why should learning this make you look at me in such a manner?”

  Yes, indeed—why? I didn’t know the answer to that, and my head was spinning with the new information, so much so that I didn’t know what to think. “How dare you?” I managed at last, my voice as soft and fragile as a whisper. “You…”

  “I what?”

  You made me think—even if it was just for a moment—that you cared for me, I answered silently. I didn’t even know when I’d begun to think so. Perhaps I hadn’t until right that very moment, but the realization was followed by a swifter one: that no matter what he’d said, what reassurances he’d given, everything he’d said had been a lie. “Never mind. I’m tired. Are we going to ride on or stop for the day?” I could feel his eyes on me, appraising, but I could not bring myself to meet them.

  “Cecily—”

  My head snapped up and I regarded him with an icy glare. “Do not call me that. Only a friend can call me by my given name, and you, sir, are no friend of mine.”

  “As you wish, my lady.” When he answered, Antony sounded just as forlorn as I felt. For a tiny instant, I longed to comfort him, but I immediately pushed that inclination aside. He didn’t deserve it.

  Chapter Five

  When I’d awoken the next morning, cold and stiff, I’d found Antony had already risen and was cooking fish over a fire. We hadn’t spoken another word to each other since his revelations and I wasn’t feeling inclined to change that. Yet, the sight of him sitting alone at the fireside made me ache in a way I couldn’t understand. What was wrong with me? He’d played a part in my family’s destruction… I’d thought of him as my captor, my jailer, but it was more than that. He was Judas—he had betrayed my family, and for what?

  Not having known my father very well, I didn’t think of him often. Yet watching Antony, I thought of him then. My father had been a warrior too. I had a memory of him coming home from battle, and the weariness on his face had nearly torn out my heart. I’d watched silently as my mother fretted over him, pulling his boots off and wiping his brow, even though they’d had servants that could have tended to such things.

  “Are you hurt, my love?” I’d heard her whisper.

  “Not anywhere that can be seen by the human eye,” he’d replied with a smile that was hardly a smile at all. Even as a child, I’d known he’d only done it for her benefit. “War is such a dirty, terrible thing, Katherine.”

  I’d been a child and unable to make much sense of his words at the time. But now, looking at Antony, I wondered at what he’d said. Perhaps, in his own way, Antony felt as my father did. Did I owe him the chance to explain himself?

  Just then, he turned his head and saw me staring. Not having decided my next course of action, I froze in place.

  “Come, you must be cold and hungry. Come sit by me.”

  For a moment, he sounded just as wearied as my father had that day. I could see no other alternative—I was cold, and my stomach was so empty it hurt. So I took a seat beside him and accepted the fish he offered on a tin plate. I ate, and even though it didn’t taste very palatable, I continued to eat, as much to fill my belly as to keep from talking. When I’d eaten it down to the bones, there was nothing left to do but wipe my hands on the bark of the trunk and look at Antony. He was poking the fire with a stick and seemed just as content to avoid talking to me as I was to him.

  “We should get riding soon,” he said, looking toward the sky that was brightening as the sun began to rise.

  “Where are we going?” It was a question I had yet to raise, but he didn’t seem in the least surprised.

  “I had planned to take you home with me.”

  There was a frank vulnerability in his voice that mere days ago I would have attacked. Feeling so raw from the rush of emotions I’d had the day before, I didn’t have it in me to exploit anyone. “What will I do there? What kind of life can I truly make for myself out in the countryside?”

  “I suppose that’s something you’re going to have to find out for yourself, Cecily. Tomorrow we will reach a small town about a day’s ride from my house. There, I hope to find a priest.”

  “A priest?” I echoed, dropping my eyes to my hands in my lap.

  “Yes. I had hoped…”

  It was not like Antony to be shy, and for some reason my belly began to churn with a nervous energy that I couldn’t explain. “Hoped what?”

  “I’d thought… well, that is, I’d like… I wanted you to become my wife.”

  The air whooshed out of me for the second time in as many days, though when I contemplated his words, I realized that I had expected this. Did I want to become his wife, especially after what
I had learned?

  “I am not going to force you to marry me, if that is what you fear,” he was quick to assure me. “If we marry, then you will have to consent. But I feel you should know that if we enter into such a contract, I expect you to respect and obey me always, regardless of the situation.”

  “You do not seem to require a marriage contract to expect such things.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Antony smile at my dry remark. I went back to staring at my hands, unsure how to respond. He was the enemy, and he’d stolen me away from my home that was no more. Perhaps if he hadn’t, I would have gotten away with my cousin, or my mother, or… but I had not. Still, despite the spanking I had mentioned, he had not mistreated me. He had not forced himself upon me, or struck me even when my tongue warranted it.

  “What would you expect?”

  “Excuse me?” I queried, startled out of my thoughts.

  “If we were to marry, what would your expectations be?”

  I had never been asked such a thing before, not by my mother, and certainly not by my husband. I did not have the first idea how to respond, but Antony seemed content to wait. “Do you truly believe my husband is dead?” I asked at last, my voice as soft as the whisper of the morning wind.

  “Yes, my lady. I am sorry for your loss, but it is nearly certain, especially since he was in Her Majesty’s army.”

  I nodded, no more moved by these words than by his expectation that we should wed. “Why did you take me that day?” The question escaped my lips before I could reconsider. Once the question was out there, it hung between us, in the delicate balance of what the future would hold.

  Antony considered carefully, as though he knew the great importance of his answer. And of course, he must have, because Antony always seemed to know such things. “I couldn’t bear to leave you there.” When he answered, his voice was gruff with emotion. “Knowing as I did what was coming. It took but one look at you for me to see that…”

  “That I’m beautiful,” I answered, my voice wooden.

  “Oh, you’re beautiful, there is no doubt of that. You are as pretty as the princess herself is rumored to be, but that is not what I meant, my lady. No, I took one look at you and I saw your fiery spirit, your tender heart. I knew that you’d undoubtedly fight when the army came, just as I knew that your side would have to lose.” He paused here, as if to allow my objection, but I was too focused on what he was saying to make one. “In that one moment, I saw a hundred possibilities of what might become of you, and I couldn’t allow it.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that I might prefer to die where I stood, with my family, than to be taken by a stranger?”

  “Of course it occurred to me, Cecily,” he answered, his voice as gentled as though he spoke to a babe. “And just as soon as it had, I knew that I could not allow it. I’m afraid you must forgive me for it, if it offends you.”

  I weighed his words against the level calm with which he watched me, and I knew him to be sincere. When I searched for my own feelings, I found that I was not nearly as angry at him as I would have liked to be. I delved deep to find a scorching remark or quelling glare, but I could summon neither. Instead, I bowed my head and answered, “I will need time to think.”

  “Of course,” he replied, in the same gentle, considerate voice. “As you wish, my lady. If you’ve finished breaking your fast, we should ready ourselves for the day’s journey.”

  Nothing more needed to be said, and we stood and began preparing to depart. Though Antony did not seem angered by my response—or lack of one—there was a tenseness between us, a bevy of things that had been left unsaid. As we rode, my mind was plagued with thoughts that would not be dismissed, no matter how hard I tried. I thought of the life I’d once led, as a duchess. It was all I’d ever been raised to want and I was carrying the duke’s child. That should have made me the happiest woman in all the kingdom, but I’d been far from happy. Then, that night I’d seen him with that slender harlot on his lap… the memory still caused bile to rise to my throat. He had dared to humiliate me in front of the entire court, simply because he could.

  I could not imagine Antony ever doing such a thing. I’d known him for such a small time, and yet, couldn’t I say the same of Wallace? It was how such things were done. Antony did not possess a single drop of royal blood, and yet, he was the only man who’d ever told me I had the right to choose. Where would I go, if I did not become his wife? Somehow, I sensed even without asking that he would find a place for me and honor his word to never force me.

  Yet, he was the enemy. How could I feel anything but contempt for someone who had helped destroy the only life I’d ever known? Who had destroyed my family?

  Just then, I felt a short, sharp kick in my ribs that made me draw in my breath loudly. I looked down at my rounding belly and slowly, a smile of wonder spread across my face. It was the babe inside me, making its presence known.

  “My lady?”

  I looked up at the concern in Antony’s voice and saw that he’d drawn his horse up next to mine and taken the reins so that my horse would stop.

  “Are you unwell?”

  “No,” I answered, my smile growing as I looked at him. “Not at all.”

  I could see by his expression that he did not believe me. “Perhaps we should take a brief rest.”

  “Antony!” I protested with a laugh. “We’ve only just begun to ride.”

  “Yes, but…” He trailed off slowly as he looked at me, and then a smile broke across his face as well. “Do you realize that is the first time you’ve ever said my name?”

  “Surely not,” I objected with a shake of my head and another laugh.

  “It ‘tis. And I must confess, Duchess, that the only thing I can think of is how to make you say it again.”

  I dropped my eyes shyly, looking once more at my growing stomach. The gown hid it well, but I knew that my child was there, biding his time until he would make his appearance in the world. The thought filled me with an unspeakable joy that I could not contain. “You… you asked me what I would expect.”

  “Yes, my lady. Have you had time to think?”

  Had I had time to think? Was I even thinking clearly? Everything felt so wondrous and beautiful in this moment that it was hard to focus on the evil in the world, or the wrong that had been done to me. The heart of the matter was this: if Wallace was truly dead—and how would I ever discover otherwise?—I needed a husband. A woman of any position could not survive without one, and more importantly, I needed a father for the child I carried.

  What kind of husband would Antony make? He seemed kind, but then, Wallace had seemed kind in the beginning, too. Despite how tenderly Antony cared for me, he too might turn on me. Yet, I knew that I did not truly have another viable option. Without Wallace, I had no standing. I was not a royal duchess any longer. I had no lands or wealth to pass on to the child I carried. There was nothing for me to do but agree.

  “You asked me what I would require in a husband,” I said once more, raising my head to look him straight in the eye. “I will promise to obey and respect you, and in return, I ask that you provide for me, protect me, and treat the child I will bear as your own.” I spoke as matter-of-factly as I could, though there was no denying that I wished to turn and flee the moment the words were out. I’d never spoken of my baby before—neither, for that matter, had Antony, though I realized that even though I was not beginning to show, he might at least suspect that I was with child. But if I were going to marry again, I had to lay out my concerns now before vows were said between us.

  Rather than answering, Antony dismounted his horse and swung me down from mine in one swift movement. Then he shocked me further by dropping down on a knee in front of me and taking my hand in his. “I solemnly give you my word that I will do these things. As my wife, you may not have the comforts you are accustomed to, but you will never go hungry or be without a roof over your head. I will raise your child as though it were mine, be it male or female.”

&n
bsp; “Thank you,” I murmured humbly.

  “It is my pleasure, my lady. Only, it surprises me that you do not speak of love.”

  “Love?” I tried to laugh, but found that I could not manage it. “It has been my experience that love is not often a term of marriage, sir.”

  “I see. Perhaps, in time, you will come to love me.”

  “Perhaps.” I wished I could offer him more, but just then I could not see how I would ever grow to love him or he me. We were enemies, and nothing would change that, not truly. No matter how well we might live together, or even if I bore his children, I’d always know in the back of my mind what he was. I’d always know that my son or daughter had him to blame for the death of their father, at least in part. Yet, I pushed these thoughts aside and ventured a tiny smile.

  When Antony saw it, he bent his head and brought his lips to my hand. “I promise that I shall do my best to ensure that you never have cause to regret it.”

  “And you accuse me of not speaking of love,” I said wryly.

  “Shall we ride on, my lady?”

  There was no denying the renewed spark in his eyes and I couldn’t help it—I found myself pulled into his gaze, forgetting, even if it was just for a moment, that he was my enemy.

  * * *

  That night we sought shelter in a barn owned by a kindly farmer along the road. Once upon a time, I would have been quite indignant at even the suggestion, but a night on the hard ground had changed my expectations. I doubted I would ever stop longing for my soft down bed, but I did my best to push thoughts of it aside.

  The farmer’s wife had even gone so far as to bring us each a serving of fresh eggs and a side of ham, along with cups of sweet milk. My stomach had rumbled embarrassingly at the sight of the food, and while all I’d managed to do was blush, Antony thanked her for her hospitality.

  “You see?” he teased as he sat beside me on the barn floor. “Farmers’ wives aren’t so bad after all.”

 

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