by Rizzo Rosko
Again, his eyes filled with misery. “I did not understand at the time why she would be saddened when I suggested Lord Gray to her. I understand now.”
Eliza did not speak. She waited for him to continue.
He rubbed his neck. “‘Twas the last I ever saw of her. Shortly after Blaise was born, she disappeared from all knowledge. I believe now that she chose that time to vanish because, she knew that Lord Gray was raising a son not his own, as most suspected but none spoke of aloud, and either did not believe me capable of raising a daughter that was not mine, or did not wish to burden me by asking that I do so. I wish she had, though.”
Eliza reached her hand out, pulled back, then gathered her courage and held him. Nicholas’ body stiffened before warming to her.
She could hardly blame him as this was the first time she had ever held him.
Ever since she arrived at Graystone, little pieces of her mother that she hadn’t been aware of, or simply refused to see, started to reveal themselves. Her mother meant to protect Eliza from Sir Ferdinand, and Eliza only ever gave her trouble for it.
All the horrid things Eliza had done made her shudder. Constantly arguing with her mother, whom she would do anything to see again, deceiving Blaise, and then treating the man who wished to be a father to her so poorly. All were now regrets she would live with for the rest of her life.
“Perhaps I am not deserving of anyone’s love.”
Nicholas pushed her away and held her at arm’s length. He stared at her with a gaping mouth. "Where is this coming from? Of course ye are deserving of it, and yer foolish husband will soon grow some sense and remember that."
Her ears perked and heart fluttered. "Do ye believe he will forgive me?"
He waved a finger at her. "A man should never send the lady he loves away after having harsh words. 'Twill be ye he begs forgiveness of in good time."
Eliza's eyes watered. How could she have ever held any anger against this man?
"We are to be gone by tonight, Elizabeth, but fear not. I shall keep in constant contact with Gray to know if his stubborn brat has made any progress towards sanity."
"Eliza."
He blinked. "I thought ye preferred Elizabeth? 'Twas what I was told."
She shook her head. "'Twas true once, but no longer. I am simply Eliza now."
Only because Blaise had loved her when she was Eliza. She sighed. With luck, he would call her by that name once more. "Is it possible to say goodbye to Marianne before I go?"
Nicholas scratched his chin. "'Twould not take much time to ready our horses, but I suppose a quick farewell would not be much of a bother either. We must be certain that Blaise does not see ye though. I understand he is still in a right temper after what happened. I want to see ye happily with him if that is yer wish, avoiding a screaming fit is my concern at the moment."
Eliza nodded. "I believe he is still being confined to his chamber because of his injuries." She did not know whether to be grateful for that or not. His injuries were a result of her own foolishness, but they also prevented him from sighting her and giving her another tongue lashing.
Nicholas hooked her arm through his and walked her back to the castle entrance. Eliza moved with heavy feet. One step closer to the castle was one step closer to her leaving it, and everyone inside of it, behind.
They found Marianne inside the chapel, or rather, rushing out of it. Eliza gently extracted her arm from her father's, and was glad when the man allowed her to go to the lady of the castle on her own.
Marianne spotted them immediately, and stood stiffly with a hand on her belly while Eliza approached with a bowed head.
Eliza curtsied when she stopped before her former mistress, blocking her path. She could not bear to look into her hard eyes as she cleared her throat. "I came to bid ye goodbye, milady, and to thank ye and Lord Gray for yer hospitality."
She tensed and nearly jumped back when slender arms quickly pulled her towards a bulging belly. Eliza could hardly believe that Marianne wished to even be in the same room with her, much less hug her.
She held her back and squeezed tightly in case it was the last time she ever saw the woman she had grown to love.
"We shall see each other again." Marianne said, as though she used magic to hear her thoughts. With a quick kiss she pushed away and held Eliza at arm's length. "But I must be off now."
Eliza halted Marianne by taking her hand before she could leave. "I am sorry, please do not leave hating me. I had no intention of hurting Blaise the way I did."
Marianne extracted her hand from Eliza's grip, her eyes nearly wild as she eyed the younger woman. "'Tis not that. I believe ye love Blaise, I do—"
"Then why are ye in such a rush to be away from me?"
She sensed when her father went to stand behind her, as if he too were curious about Marianne's need to depart.
"Well," She looked down at her belly again. Eliza looked as well, noted her trembling, white knuckles as she clutched the rounded top. Farther down, the bottom of her gown around her feet was dark, as though it had been soaked with water.
In fact, Lady Gray seemed to be leaving a damp trail as she hurried to be away from the chapel.
Eliza's eyes rounded as she whipped her head up to confirm it, saw the painful twitching in Marianne's jaw, and knew the truth instantly.
"Ye should be in bed! With a midwife!"
Nicholas choked behind her. "Midwife?"
Marianne chuckled. "'Tis where I am going now."
Eliza took her by the arm, using her other hand to support Marianne's back. "Father, go announce to Lord Gray that his second child is coming."
Nicholas flew from the room before Eliza finished the command.
"He seems in a panic," Eliza said. Her heart pounded with her own barely concealed fright.
"Men always are when it comes to this, but unless I get a midwife I shall soon be in a panic as well," Marianne said.
Chapter Sixteen
She had been gone for months. The hot months turned cool until snow fell, then melted away again, and herbs were being grown once more in the gardens. New animals were being born and only the nights remained chilled.
Yet his insides remained just as raw as though she’d left only yesterday.
Had it truly been so long? It seemed Blaise did nothing but eat and sleep. ‘Twas no wonder he couldn’t recall anything of importance happening over the seasons.
Other than his confrontation with those three devils, that is.
They had confessed to every crime they’d ever performed and then some, fearful of the consequences, but the moment Blaise felt strong enough he went down to speak with them himself.
“How do ye know Eliza?” He’d demanded, standing while they slouched to accommodate short chains piked into the dirt. He left the door open behind him, but no light came down into the small dungeon beneath a dungeon.
The only light came from the torch in Blaise’s hand. It barely allowed Blaise to see the three men at all, yet ‘twas enough to give them cause to squint their eyes after being in the dark for so many days.
="0"Please don’ ‘urt us, milord.” The fat one wept. His tears tumbled down thick cheeks and spilled into his trembling lips. “We knew ‘er mother.”
“Colin! Shut yer mouth!” Their leader, Albin, shouted at his brother.
“Saw her from time to time. We were never cruel to ‘er or ‘er daugh’er, milord.”
“Fool. Utter idiot.” Albin muttered.
“Why?” Blaise demanded, turning his glare to Albin, who did not shrink away like his weakling brother.
The giant man sat in the corner and did not speak at all. Blaise figured that if he was to get any answers that were not wept out, he would have to speak with their leader.
Albin’s eyes widened and his head cocked, as though he did not understand the question.
“Why is yer brother a fool for speaking?” Blaise asked.
“Because ye will not believe a word he says, milord.”
/>
It seemed he was mistaken then. The leader would not speak on the belief he would not be listened to. It seemed Blaise had to gain his answers through tears after all.
“Ye there, before coming here, what was the last thing ye ate?”
Colin sniffed loudly. ‘Twas the only sound in the entire damp dungeon. Ivan and Albin stared at him as though he’d gone mad.
“Answer the question.” Blaise snapped.
“I-I canno’ remember, milord. ‘Twas hard bread and weak ale I think.”
Blaise’s eyes moved up and down his round form. “Ye certainly look as though ye eat well.”
Colin’s face turned red. “I’ve always been this size. Don’ know why,” he said.
Blaise nodded, accepting the answer as he’d enough large servants to know that size did not have to have anything to do with the food one ate. “What did Eliza pay ye to rob me?”
“Not enough.” Albin growled. “‘Twas why we robbed ye.”
‘Twas the same thing Blaise had thought. “And why ye returned here, I imagine.”
Colin and Albin fell silent. Ivan raised his head, his thick voice strong despite the gloom of his surroundings. “We are not evil men, milord. We sometimes do evil things to survive, but we are not evil.”
“And when ye left me for dead?” Blaise hissed, his fingers tightening around the torch, ready to throw it if any of them spoke the wrong words.
“We did not leave ye for dead.” Ivan said. “We knocked ye off yer horse and left ye in the road. ‘Twas not our fault a puddle chose that place to form.”
Blaise’s arm tensed, he readied himself to toss the torch at Ivan’s head.
“And yet,” Ivan said, halting Blaise’s arm. The man spoke as though having fire thrown at him was not something to be feared. “We are sorry for it.”
Blaise sighed and turned his back on them. He stopped in the doorway but did not turn back to face them. “I shall send a man down to unlock ye. Ye’ll be given a loaf of bread each, and then I want ye all to leave and never return.”
And so they did. Blaise did not go to see them off, but had a knight come to him to inform him when the three men disappeared from sight.
He’d nodded, returned to his bedchamber and went to sleep. He all but slept away the months. He must have considering how little he remembered of them.
Blaise stepped into his father's solar and closed the door behind him. He’d been summoned from his bed and so he dutifully dressed and made an appearance, though his clothes were hardly in fit condition, and his jaw scratched the skin of his hand when he touched the stubble there.
The harsh lines in William’s forehead spoke of displeasure. Blaise found himself standing in the chamber with his hands behind his back as though he were a child once more. This time, unlike then, he felt no remorse or guilt for his sins, because he had none. Naught but emptiness lay with him at night.
William poured two goblets of ale and offered one to Blaise. Blaise took it in his hands, and, as though being handed the drink were permission, sat down while William paced.
"Ye are seeking a new wife, I have heard. Is this true?"
Blaise shrugged. He should have expected this conversation from his father since, apart from lying in bed, attempting to find a new bride to fill the hole the first one had left was about the only thing he did. "'Tis about time I married, produced some brats so that ye might be a grandfather. I assumed ye would take the news with more joy than this."
"Ye’re already married." William said.
Blaise gripped his cup sourly. "Not for long."
"Ye have no grounds for an annulment so ye may as well cease yer trying."
Blaise lifted a finger. "Ah, but I do have grounds. Sir Nicholas is my godfather. I have heard of annulments being granted for such situations when the father of the bride is too close in relation to me. When I speak with the bishop he shall give me what I want."
William slapped a hand over his eyes. "Ye cannot be serious."
"I am."
William pulled his hand away from his face and growled. "Nay, ye are simply being stubborn, like always."
Blaise shrugged. "I care not."
"I do not wish ye to get married without love, or to wed at all now that ye have found love."
"Because loving the last woman was such a pleasant experience?"
"Ha! So ye did love her."
Blaise set his goblet down and rose to his feet. "And look where it has gotten me. Ye say that she is still my love, well what is love without trust? She had me thrown into the mud and fooled me into thinking she might have cared."
"She does care. She took none of the fine things with her when she left with Nicholas, and Marianne told me herself that she did not know how she would have survived had Eliza not been there to hold her hand."
Blaise sucked in a breath at the reminder. He had still been wounded in bed when it happened, but when Marianne finally decided to give birth to his new younger brother, the delivery turned into an attack on her body. The midwife went so far as to baptize the boy's leg the second it was free, fearing he would die before the rest of his body would emerge.
All the while, Eliza sat with Marianne. She wiped the sweat from her face with a cool cloth, held her hand, and offered whispered words of encouragement.
Blaise had been told the story by a number of different servants who'd tended to him while his ribs healed. He’d wanted to go to his step-mother but had been forced to stay in bed thanks to the knights his father put at his door.
Thankfully Marianne made it through the ordeal, and so did little Henry.
After, when Eliza was assured of their safety and was persuaded to go with Nicholas, Marianne had moped. She made her disappointment of having a friend taken from her known by ignoring Blaise when he was able to eat in the Great hall, and then glowering at him when she thought he was not looking.
He pushed away any warmth that tried to spread throughout his chest at the thought of Eliza taking care of Marianne, keeping her calm when things became dangerous.
He allowed the cold to penetrate him instead, and it had naught to do with the fact that his wife had been gone for months now, and he missed having her next to him at night.
"What does her treatment of Marianne have anything to do with her treatment of me, and of ye for that matter?"
"Me?" William asked.
"Aye, she fooled ye as well, not just me, and on her insistence dangerous thieves were allowed to stay within yer castle walls."
"She did not do much insisting. I could tell from the beginning she did not want them here anymore than ye did. 'Twas only on yer own insistence they stayed." William raised a brow at him. “Then ye set them free.”
"The point," Blaise ground through gritting teeth. "Is that she conspired with them, and nearly had me killed, all so that she could wear a few jewels."
William raised a single brow at Blaise's description of events. "I think ye have forgotten the life that Eliza described to ye when she came here. She was not merely after rank, and not initially after yer hand, if I recall her dances with the knights that night ye so gallantly rescued her from Sir Ian, that is."
Blaise's face heated, recalling Eliza's words to him before he accused her of being a heartless harlot.
'Tis not pathetic to wish for warmth from the cold, or a day without going hungry.
William's eyes were hard as they bore into Blaise’s soul, as though searching for a hint of compassion for the woman he once loved enough to so hastily wed. "Ye are a stubborn boy, always have been, and ye are showing this stubborn nature with yer delusions of finding a new wife."
Blaise waved his hand, dismissing William's speech. "Very well, I shall not find a new wife. I shall spend the rest of my life alone, and ye will have to make Edward yer heir since he will be yer only hope for grandchildren."
"I would prefer ye gave me grandchildren first, and that ye were to take Graystone after death forces me to leave it."
Blaise clenche
d his fists at the soft words. "I do not know why we even have these conversations. Edward is yer heir, and now ye have another son as well. Give them Graystone. They are yer children."
"Ye are my child." William said through clenched teeth.
Blaise slammed his fist onto William's writing table, knocking over William’s goblet that had been forgotten there. "I am the bastard child of yer adulterous first wife. Stop pretending otherwise!"
William crossed the room, slapped his fingers around Blaise's neck, and pushed him to the stone wall, nearly knocking over the tapestry hanging behind him.
Blaise stared with round eyes into William's snarling face. Deep lines of rage that Blaise had never before seen ran down his face.
"Do not speak that way of yer mother! Ye will have more respect than that!"
Blaise choked for air before finding the strength to push his father, the man who had raised him, off of him.
William released Blaise's neck and stumbled back while Blaise held the sore area, coughed and sputtered.
William’s face did not relax its angered expression. "I never wish to hear ye speak in such a way about Alice, or of yerself, ever again. Have I been understood?"
Blaise sensed true anger in his father for the first time. He nodded his head. He should have known better, but he could not help himself.
The woman had betrayed her husband, and then her own son before Blaise was even born by fornicating with another man. Though William forgave her, and accepted Blaise as his own out of love, Blaise still grew up listening to the whispers.
The bastard son they’d called him, before he even knew what the words meant.
He did not know how ‘twas possible for his father to think so highly of love when it had consumed him with pain for so many long years the first time he had experienced it.
However, Marianne did seem to make him remarkably happy, and had given him two sons already, despite their horrendous beginning.
Perhaps William was correct to be angry at Blaise for sending Eliza away.
William continued to glare at him, then nodded towards the door. "Go, and I wish for ye to think about yer decision to wed again. Long and hard. Do not make a mistake ye will only regret for the rest of yer life. Forgive her and be happy."
