Scold's Conquest (Worship Series Book 5)

by Marie Hall

  She heaved a sigh and forced a smile as Xavier rejoined her walking towards that place he called home. Walking without saying anything was normal enough, but today it was not a comfortable silence and Io knew Xavier could tell the difference. He let the silence stand only another hour.

  "Do you want to ask me what it is you do not want to ask me?" Xavier's voice stayed low and when she looked over, he had his gaze fixed on the road under his feet.

  "No."

  "Io, we cannot, not speak."

  She knew he was right. They did need to speak on what stood between them but she couldn't bring herself to ask why he was bedding Sabrina. And after having him next to her the last two nights, the dread of finally hearing the answer burned in her gut. She could almost say she'd be happy if he lied a little while longer. If he continued to deny he wanted that woman, had already had her. Better if he said something in between. If he said Io was no lady, that he did intend to set her aside but he'd keep her about just for those pleasures. Only he'd the opportunity now two nights in a row and did nothing more than kiss her forehead.

  "Io?" He set his hand over hers, stopping her from trying to smooth out the edges of her nails.

  Perhaps she might test his truthfulness now. Perhaps the right question would reveal how much she could believe what he'd say when she did ask. "Why did you let your mother treat me so terribly? Why does she have your favor?" There at least this question might tell her if it was more his want or more his mother's want he should have a different wife.

  "I did not let—"

  Io threw up her hands and stretched out her stride to walk away. She should have known he'd call her a liar. Whenever she asked him something he couldn't deny with truth, he turned it to make it her fault. She wrapped her arms around herself and prepared to go on never knowing for certain.

  "Io." His hand settled at her elbow and he pulled her around and then to a stop. She'd not heard his approach but he appeared a little winded and, once he had them standing in the road, he took a moment to adjust his person. "Io, I am sorry. I did not mean to dismiss your question." Io looked up and he gave her a sheepish look. "Some habits are harder to break. I think I have learned this very well."

  "Perhaps you could try soap, my lord," Io said waiting to see if he understood the reference.

  "Io," he chuckled. "I have, and worse things." He reached out, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. "I will try harder." His lips barely touched her skin but the heat skimmed up her arm like she had lamp oil in her veins and he'd touched a flame to her. "Mother does not have my favor, Io. This much is the truth. More the truth is I do not even like her. Maybe," Xavier sighed then looked away before starting them walking again. "Maybe the truth is I am afraid of her." He seemed not totally sure of his own words. He actually sounded as if it were something he'd never contemplated but now found it fit.

  "You? Afraid?" Io didn't think it possible for this man to fear anything.

  "You have met her. Does she not scare you?" Io could only nod. "Charlotte Brice runs her house and family with fear and intimidation. I am sure I have been afraid of her my whole life."

  "But you are a man." Io tried again to think of her husband as someone who could be anything but strong and brave.

  "I was a child once, Io. A child in her house, under her rule."

  "But, you had your father there and your brothers and sisters. Did they not…" Exactly how did family work if it wasn't a means of comfort and protection?

  "No, Io, we learned early on to fend for ourselves against Charlotte."

  "I do not understand." She could only see his profile now. He looked directly ahead but even that told her a great deal. What he had on his mind was hard for him to think about.

  "I do not know how many people could confirm what I will tell you. Charlotte, my elder brothers perhaps. It is not something I have spoken of. I will now and maybe too I will stop being this coward."

  "You are no—" Io started, ready to deny his words the same as she defended him to the king and the king's men. The same as she acted to ensure his reputation was in good standing in his house when she left. He'd been good to her. Better than anyone her whole life. She didn't wish his ruin. She just couldn't be his wife.

  "I think I must have been ten, maybe older, but ten seems about right," he went on as if she'd not spoke out. "My brothers and I were about getting into mischief and I cut my knee. Cedric has no stomach for blood and he would not let me keep playing so I went back to the house."

  Io squeezed his hand, remembering Xavier's older but not eldest brother from her time at the Forks. He was a blow hard, bellowing about and becoming winded for the effort with his huge gut too much to carry. That he'd not any ability to deal with the sometimes gruesome aspects of war be it real or play didn't surprise her.

  "It was not too late in the morning," Xavier went on his fingers tightening around hers. "I think most people were not yet done with morning ablutions. But when I went into the house it was quiet except for… except I could hear my younger sister screaming. Then everything became chaotic. The noise was overwhelming and I ran in to see some chairs and a table turned over. There were several broken pitchers, wine was splashed on the walls and spilled on the rugs. And Babette was cowering in a corner, mother standing over her whipping at her with a knotted rag and screaming at her for being… clumsy I think. I do not know why, I certainly never had before, but I placed myself between them and when Mother tried to slap the rag down again, I caught it and pulled it free. I remember screaming at her, something about not hurting Babette, about not being so mean to us."

  "You defended your sister, Xavier. That is not the act of a coward." Io couldn't say which she was more, proud her husband again did what was right for another, or angry he didn't do the same for her.

  "Ah, well." Again his grip tightened. "I was mistakenly proud of my actions at the moment. Charlotte did not say anything; she turned and walked away. Babette and I cleaned up the room and I thought it was done. But you know, Io, pride comes before the fall."

  "Proverbs," Io said recalling the many nights she'd sat with him reading and discussing the religious text.

  "Proverbs, yes." He let go of her hand and reached up to rub his neck. "God." The word came out on a sigh heavy with emotion, fear, as far as Io could tell. "I was in bed one moment the next I was on the floor face down and my father, my father… he had this one cane." Xavier shook his head and made a fist. "It was at least this thick." He put his fist out. "But the top part, a length about the same as my arm was cut away so it was less than half such thickness and flat. He kept it always soaking in a barrel of brine. He must have brought it down on me three or four times before I realized what happened and thought to run. I never made it up. He put his foot on the back of my neck and he beat me bloody." Again he stopped and rubbed at his neck. "I thought perhaps he'd killed me. I couldn't move my legs for two days. I laid there on that floor until I could. But I clearly remember his words. He said 'You will not disrespect my wife. You will not lay hands or stand against her. I will see you dead before I see you disrespect my house in such a manner. I will see you dead and buried before I allow my family and my name to be slandered.' "

  "Xavier," Io said from behind her hands. She'd brought them up to stop her own cries as her husband recounted his tale.

  "I cannot imagine what Mother might have told him. But I incurred his wrath that night. And I know it was based on her word. She had that much power and she took pleasure in using it. Especially against me. I think for the whole next year I was being dragged off for a whipping by my father at least once a week. Nothing I could do pleased her. Nothing I said made her less inclined to set Father on me. Then before I turned thirteen I was sent to foster."

  Io watched him now. His posture changed, straightened and relaxed. His expression softened and his fists unclenched. How had she thought her life so miserable? Her abuse was at the hands of strangers who'd no connection to her and rarely was it in the form of a bea
ting. Xavier was hurt by those who she'd always thought were supposed to be most protective of children. Parents. Wasn't that why the loss of one or both devastated as it did? "Xavier, I…" What could she say?

  "I know the man is dead. Charlotte cannot set him on me but…" He shook his head again. "Father and I reconciled some years later. We exchanged letters while I fostered and in every one he encouraged and supported the path I was on. He came to court when I was knighted, he came again when I was made crown protector. He said he always knew I would achieve greatness in anything I choose to do. But he… he never said he was… proud of me. When I learned of his death I was more saddened, more ashamed of that. I would not get the chance to make him proud. I think in the moment I stood against my mother, I became less his son. And dead or not, I fear I will act again so as to make me no son of his at all."

  She was already heading into his arms when a boom of thunder sounded overhead and a chilling rain started pouring down. She was soaked before he could get the oilskin around her but she was glad as the rain masked the tears. How could anyone not be proud of Xavier? Many feared and hated him because his duty to the crown often meant ruin for others but that ruin was their own making. The king was proud of him, called him friend, gave him favor above everyone. If James Brice was anything less than proud of his son, the man didn't deserve respect and he could, for all Io cared, rot in hell.

  She was reluctant to be set away and her arms lingered around his neck even as she was lifted and set in the wagon. "Get undressed, Io, dry and get warm. We will seek shelter and I will have a fire started to heat something for you." He stepped back and pulled his cloak over him even though he was already so soaked his clothes sagged on his frame. The wagon started forward with a lurch and the fast pace kept Io bumping in the back hardly able to work the stays of her dress loose enough to get out of it. Even with the speed never letting up, it was full dark before Xavier pulled them from the road and under the shelter of overhanging cliffs.

  She tried to hold back but as soon as the tarps were flipped aside and Xavier swung up to sit inside, Io burst into tears. How could she keep wanting him so selfishly if being with her not only made his mother unhappy but also made him believe his father would hate him from beyond the grave? With marriage to Sabrina, Lady Charlotte would finally be pleased with her child and Xavier could again be his father's son. Xavier hid his suffering from her, but she saw it when he spoke and she saw him a little different.

  "Io, for heaven's sake," Xavier said, reaching for her and pulling her into his arms. "Were you hurt? Did you get tossed around too much? You are colder than ice." He rubbed his hands up and down her arms in an effort to warm her. "I told you to undress and dry." He lifted a fistful of hair and squeezed. "You are almost as soaked as I." He reached around her to pull the extra shift from the trunk and she wrapped her arms around his neck to keep from sliding away. "Do not cling to me; I am as cold and wet as you," he said, pulling the thick wool stockings from the trunk. He tried then to set her away but she'd not let go. "Io, come you must get dry and changed the fires are started and you can get before one."

  "No," she said pushing into him and tightening her hold. "No, stay, another moment more." She'd have to let him go. If she wanted him happy giving into his mother's will and healing the hurt on his soul caused by his father, it was all she could do. It was all she had in a way to repay everything she owed him. But not yet. Another few moments and then she could. Another few heartbeats and she'd figure out how to make him see he'd no choice but to let her go, replace her with his mother's choice. If he wanted to be his father's son, he couldn't act against his mother.

  "Io?" His hand settled at the back of her head to hold her against his heart, the way it did so many times in the past. "Io, everything will be all right. You will see. You need to get warm and to eat and rest. We will be home soon and everything will be as it should. Do not upset yourself so." He took hold of her arms and pulled them from behind his neck then set her away a bit. "Come now," he said smiling. "Get dry and dressed and I will put you by the fire. Be quick," he laughed and brushed his knuckles along the curve of her neck and down to the top of her breasts, "before I cannot resist keeping you naked and wet."

  She snorted at that. Hearing him tease was painful but at least the distraction would allow her to think how to make him break the last of what held them together. "I do not like wool stockings, sir," She told him and tried to toss them back into the truck. "They scratch."

  "They warm, and you will wear them for that purpose." His tone made the skin on her arse crawl. "Wear them for I might be willing to risk having my head ripped off to paddle you if you do not." Again his knuckles brushed her skin and she continued to feel his touch even after he left so she could change. She was grumbling to herself about the coarse wool on her calves when he appeared again at the opening. "Are you dressed?" She nodded. "All the way?" He sent her a hard look and she gave him her own in return as she pointed to the covering over her feet. "Good then, come get down. Someone managed a chamois and it is now roasting. It will not be hardtack tonight, my lady." Xavier lifted her down but held her in his arms as he crossed to where a sturdier type of camp was set.

  Large sheets of canvas were stretched between the cliff edges creating side walls keeping out the wind and most of the rain. The overhangs of rock provided enough of a roof the ground was fairly dry and so with the canvas not being used to sleep on the men wouldn't be wet and cold all night. As Xavier announced, a large chamois, skewered by an iron rod, cooked over the fire in the center of the camp.

  Xavier carried her in amongst laughter and smiles she was sure were brought on by the meal. Eating always lifted the spirits of these men. It was why she'd put such effort into the meals served at the house. Many of the men were in the process of changing out of the wet things they wore. The teasing and bantering distracting them from the task, but seeing her, they turned their backs and pulled on shirts and ensured britches were fastened. Io could almost laugh at them. Perhaps if they knew how often they'd dismissed her sensibilities before.

  "You have back some cheer, my heart?" Xavier asked, setting her on his saddle which was off the ground over a log.

  "I must have been too cold," she said, accepting the blanket he placed over her.

  He smiled and brushed his hand over the top of her head. "Sit here and finish warming, the meal should not be long in the making." One last smile and he strode from camp.

  "We are going to eat good tonight and if this weather will give us a little peace, we should be home in a week. Are you ready?" Jon said, taking a seat next to her.

  "Do I have a choice but to be so?"

  "Well, you can always come home with me. I should not mind having you about to entertain me," Jon said, leaning over and shoving her with his shoulder.

  She couldn't tell if he jested or if he meant it, but it didn't matter. She couldn't stay. Xavier would understand. She'd be able to make him see. "What do you know of Xavier's father?"

  "His father?" Jon sounded startled. But Io knew Jon was Xavier's friend the longest of everyone. "He was a good man, Xavier respected him greatly. I respected him."

  "You did not think him cruel?"

  "He was a hard man, Io. Harsh in his judgments but mostly fair." Jon heaved a deep sigh letting his shoulders and head drop forward. "He was strict with his children, with his sons especially. He raised them… biblically I suppose. He demanded they respect God and their elders. They should never lie, steal or bear false witness. They should not covet but always work to achieve their wants and fulfill their needs. But he was a diplomat much like Alexander and Cedric now. That his middle son made his way by sword I think always caused him grief. You understand?"

  "Live by the sword, perish by the sword?" Io concluded.

  "I think Lord Brice lived everyday fearful he would outlive his child."

  "Why then did he send Xavier away? Why did he allow Lady Charlotte too—" Io wasn't sure why she asked. She didn't need confirm
ation but something was missing.

  "Io, you silly," Jon laughed and wrapped his arm around her, hugging her tight. "He was not sent away. All sons of nobility are given further educations at the homes of other nobles. It is not that he was sent away. Not like you were so horribly tossed or dragged out. He was sent to train. And he was sent to a very good house. Lord Duexmount was a great instructor. He had much experience, a connection with the throne that eventually put Xavier before the king and made him best of friends with the king's son." He gave her a second squeeze. "He was not set out Io and as to your other question… I do not know what was between Lord and Lady Brice. What she must have held over him that he bent to her will. Not always." Jon clarified, "Not at all. I suspect Charlotte Brice knows as well as you what a well-placed, firm hand feels like on her arse, but there was something. Whatever it was it kept him from acting to defend his children. I think Xavier being sent to train might have saved his life. Charlotte was fanatical in her disapproval of him. He was in trouble with her so often I think his joy was beat out of him. Pleasure for a time became a painful thing to him. Under Duexmount he learned happiness. His life was stable and simple. There were set rules and he obeyed and found reward. He was given duties he achieved and found reward. He gave council and again found reward. His life was that from then until he was given you and now…" The man laughed hard for a long moment, "Now he must again work to find reward and I think nothing could be better for him than the work you create."

  Io huffed and huffed again when Jon laughed harder. "You are most awful, sir. There is no one in all the kingdom who is less work than I." Io watched the man almost fall to the ground with laughter.

  "Io," Jon tried to catch his breath, "Io, there is no one in all the world worth the work you are." He stood then and walked away while Io still smiled over his remark. Sometimes it was very good to hear such things. Sometimes not and sometimes… it was life changing.