He said it with such agony. Alexander, full of Gates’ agony, hung his head as well, and Jasper, still standing near the chair, gazed at his knight with the most pained of expressions.
“Lad,” he whispered. “I cannot.”
Gates suddenly whirled in his direction, falling to his knees and grabbing hold of Jasper’s fine robes. He buried his face in them, holding on to the man as if fearful a loosened grip would send him into the pits of hellish despair.
“Please,” he begged, his eyes closed tightly as he held on to Jasper’s robes. “Please, my lord, please. She is all to me and I am all to her. Please do not take this happiness away from us. Please grant us mercy and compassion and allow us our joy.”
Jasper was horrified by Gates’ actions; the strongest, most fearless man he had ever known was having the weakest moment of his life. Jasper reached down and tried to help him up, but Gates wouldn’t move.
“Gates, please,” he said with great emotion in his voice. “Please stand up. Please, lad… do not do this.”
Gates shook his head, unwilling to release him. “I beg you, my lord,” he whispered. “Do not separate me from the woman I love.”
Jasper was beside himself. He looked up at Alexander, silently begging the man to help him with Gates, but Alexander was watching the scene with tears in his eyes. When he noticed Jasper looking at him, he pointed to Gates.
“Can you not see what this means to him?” he demanded softly. “Look what he is willing to do in order to convince you of his sincerity.”
Receiving no help from Alexander, Jasper returned his focus to Gates. “Rise, Gates, please,” he said. “I understand your passion on the matter. I understand your wants. But you must let me do what I believe is best. Would you truly be so selfish to marry my daughter, knowing how she will be ridiculed? Do you truly only think of yourself in this matter?”
Gates suddenly let his robes go and nearly toppled over backwards. His emotions were reeling and so was he. “All I know is that I love her,” he said. “If that is selfish, then I am sorry, but I believe we can overcome anything at all. Why do you have so little faith in me with your daughter when you have trusted your entire empire to my sword? I do not understand.”
Free of Gates’ grasp, Jasper stumbled over to the door. He simply couldn’t handle the conversation any longer because he was becoming consumed by guilt and confusion. He had to get away from Gates and Alexander, who were turning his mind to mush and his heart to pulp. All he knew was that he hurt as they did, as Gates did, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Wouldn’t do anything about it.
He held out a hand to Gates as if to stop the man any further argument.
“No more,” he demanded hoarsely. “I cannot discuss this anymore. Alexander, you will marry Kathalin and there will be no more discussion. I will tell your parents of this conversation. You will do what they tell you to do; therefore, you will marry my daughter. Gates, forgive me for denying you but I have given you my reasons. I am… sorry.”
With that, he bolted from the room and hurried to the stairs leading down to the gatehouse entry. Gates was still on his knees, watching Jasper flee, his entire body wracked with pain. Behind him, Alexander spoke softly.
“I will go after him,” he said, moving for the door. “I will make him change his mind, Gates. You will see.”
Gates rocked back on his heels, exhaling long and deep. He was utterly, completely drained, feeling only the sting of Jasper’s refusal. Not that he hadn’t expected it, but still, the reality of it was almost too much to bear.
“Nay,” he said to Alexander before the man could leave. “Give him time before you do… he will only become angry with you and mayhap even rescind his offer of marriage.”
Alexander peered strangely at him. “I have already refused to marry her,” he said. “He cannot make me marry Kathalin if I do not want to.”
Gates looked up at him and the man’s eyes were swimming in tears. Great tears of emotion glimmered in the weak light from the fire.
“Nay,” he said again, his voice hoarse with emotion. “If he will not allow me to marry her, then I would be comforted knowing that she was married to you. You… you will be good to her, won’t you? She is a great and wonderful lady, Alex. If I cannot have her, then I am comforted knowing you will take care of her. I could not bear it if she married another.”
Alexander gazed at him with grief and bewilderment. He didn’t even know what to say so, confused, he said nothing. Without another word, he left Gates’ chamber, following the path that Jasper had taken out of the gatehouse. As Alexander’s footfalls faded down the steps, Gates struggled to his feet and made his way over to the lancet window overlooking the entry.
A cold breeze blew in his face, spilling the tears over his face, but Gates didn’t even notice. All he could think and feel, at the moment, was the pain of Jasper’s denial, but he knew this would not be the last conversation they had on the topic. He was going to compose himself and go after Jasper once more, finding a reason to give the man that would make him change his mind. Their skirmish had been fierce and they had retreated to recover and regroup, but the battle was not over as far as Gates was concerned.
Not over in the least.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
She was about to disobey him.
Gates had watched her enter the keep as the Tender of the Keep opened the iron grate and admitted her. He’d even watched her as she mounted the stairs, at least the ones he could see, but he soon lost sight of her as she headed to the floor above. It was a good thing, too. She had plans other than seeking her chamber and bolting herself in. There was a certain woman on the floors above that she wanted to have a discussion with.
My mother lied to me….
Kathalin tried to remember what Gates had told her; that it was possible Rosamund knew nothing about the de Lohr proposal, but something told Kathalin that her mother had indeed known. She wasn’t sure why she was of that opinion, but she was. Rosamund had known about the betrothal to de Lohr from the start and she couldn’t seem to shake the thought.
So Kathalin continued up to the top floor of the keep where her mother lived in her lavish bower. As she mounted the steps, approaching that darkened level, she could already smell the heavy scent of cloves, the aroma that had set her father to sneezing. She could see why because it was most cloying in nature, permeating the very walls of the keep. She swore the stone at this level was oily with it.
It was dark on the landing as she knocked on her mother’s heavy oak door. She heard a muffled voice, which sounded as if she was given permission to enter, so Kathalin timidly pushed the door open. More smells of clove and something else, something equally strong, hit her in the face. She made a mental note to ask about the smells in the chamber and what they were meant to accomplish. No doubt some physic told her to burn herbs daily to ward off the bad vapors associated with her affliction although Kathalin had never seen evidence that doing such a thing helped, at least not in her mother’s case. Stepping into the chamber, she closed the door behind her.
“Lady Rosamund?” she called, looking around the dim bower. “It is Kathalin.”
Something on the enormous, curtained bed over to her right stirred. “Kathalin,” Rosamund repeated, pleasure in her tone. “How good of you to come and visit me, my dear.”
Kathalin recognized her mother’s voice and turned in the direction of the bed. The heavy curtains were drawn so she couldn’t see anything, but she could hear the woman moving about.
“I came to see how you are faring,” Kathalin said, although it wasn’t entirely the truth. She simply wanted to lead off the conversation with more pleasant things and come to the interrogation later. “I was out in the herb garden this morning.”
The bed shifted around some more and the maid came around, pulling back the heavy curtains to reveal the sheer coverings beneath. “Is that so?” Rosamund said. “I have not been in the garden in years. I was told that the cook keeps it up
for her dishes.”
Kathalin watched the maid as the woman finished pulling aside the curtains and then rushed back to the other side of the bed where Rosamund was evidently dressing.
“Who planted the garden?” Kathalin asked. “It looks rather old and established.”
Through the sheers, the maid was wrapping Rosamund’s hands. “That garden is very old,” she said. “It was here long before I married Jasper. I believe there must be plants in that garden that are a hundred years old. Generations of de Laras have tended it.”
Kathalin understood. “It is very overgrown in places,” she said. “Although with the spring thaw, there is a good deal of new, green growth. I was hoping… that is, I would like to ask for permission to tend it. I think I could grow many things that might help your condition.”
Through the sheers, Kathalin could see her mother falter, as if surprised by the statement. After a moment, the wrapping resumed, more slowly this time.
“I am afraid I am beyond help,” she said quietly. “Your noble gesture is very kind, but I do not think there is anything that can help me.”
Kathalin took a few steps closer to the bed. “Have you tried?” she asked. “I realize you have had this affliction for a long time, but what has been done for you in that time?”
Rosamund was silent for a moment as the maid continued to wrap. “Many things,” she finally said. “A physic from Gloucester used to bleed me regularly, but it did no good. All of my bodily humors are infected and there was no use in trying to bleed it out. I have also been given gold to drink in the hopes of purifying my body, but to no avail.”
Kathalin had been taught the four humors of the body; black bile, yellow bile, blood, and phlegm. She knew that physics believed that ridding the body of these humors in certain cases, and especially leprosy, could lead to healing, and she also knew that gold potions were popular with leprosy, as gold symbolized purity and was thought to help with diseases like this. But Mother Benedicta had proclaimed such cures towards lepers to be ineffective and believed in other healing measures that did not involve blood-letting and drinking metal.
“That is because such things only weaken the body,” Kathalin said. “At St. Milburga’s, we had people come to us with leprosy since St. Milburga is the patron saint of lepers. We had an entire room dedicated to them. Mother Benedicta would have them drink a brew of rotten tea and she would also rub their limbs with salve made from rotten bread and lavender oil. We had excellent results with it. I should like to try it on you, too, if you are willing.”
The maid had finished wrapping Rosamund’s hands and the woman stood up from her bed, unsteadily, as the maid held her fast to prevent her from falling. “That is a magnanimous gesture, Kathalin,” she said, “but, as I said, I am beyond help. I do not believe it would do any good.”
Kathalin was rather disappointed. “Will you not even let me try?”
Rosamund came around the side of the bed, gazing upon her daughter with her bright blue eyes. The expression in her eyes spoke of hope and perhaps even excitement, but the woman shook her head.
“It would not do any good,” she repeated. “It could not undo the damage that has been done even if you did manage to stop the progression. I am grateful for your offer, however. Please know how truly grateful I truly am.”
Kathalin took a step in her mother’s direction. She didn’t want to push, for the woman had been clear, but she was still disappointed.
“Mayhap you will reconsider sometime,” she said. “In any case, will you give me permission to tend the garden as my own? I should like to care for it.”
Rosamund nodded. “Of course you may,” she said. “Generations of de Lara women will thank you.”
Kathalin smiled weakly, thinking now that the matter of the garden and her mother’s care had been settled, she had other things on her mind. Much more important things on her mind. Now that she’d proven herself to be a thoughtful and considerate daughter, she hoped it set the right mood for the next part of their conversation about her betrothal to Alexander. She wanted the truth and she hoped her mother would be truthful with a most sympathetic daughter.
“Thank you,” she said after a moment, carefully bringing forth the next part of the conversation. “And speaking of generations of de Laras, I am not sure if you know that my father has already moved to make a marriage for me. Were you aware he had made an offer to Alexander de Lohr?”
Rosamund’s gaze wavered slightly. “He did?” she said, sounding genuinely surprised. “He has already done this?”
Kathalin nodded. “He has,” she said. “Lord and Lady de Lohr arrived at Hyssington earlier today and my father has already made them a marriage offer between me and their son. I was just told of it. Did you know of his plans?”
Rosamund didn’t reply for a moment. She held Kathalin’s gaze before turning away, going in search of her favorite chair. Her movements were slow and painful, shuffling as she did.
“Forgive me,” she said. “It is difficult for me to stand.”
Kathalin couldn’t help but notice her mother not only hadn’t answered her question, but hadn’t outright denied her knowledge of such a thing. She followed the woman at a safe distance as she moved for her chair.
“Lady Rosamund,” she said, suspicion reflecting in her tone. “Did you know about this betrothal?”
Rosamund heard the distrust in Kathalin’s voice but she ignored it. She wasn’t about to allow her daughter to gain the upper hand in this conversation, in any way. With a grunt of pain, she settled herself into the chair.
“You knew as well as I did that Jasper is seeking a husband for you,” she finally said. “Why should you be so surprised by a marriage offer?”
There was a hint of self-defense in her tone and Kathalin could see, in that instant, that Rosamund had known. She had known all along. It was difficult to keep her outrage out of her manner when she answered.
“Aye, I knew he wanted to find me a husband, but you and I struck a deal in that I would be allowed to approve of a potential candidate before anything was offered,” she said. “You told me that you would consider sending me back to St. Milburga’s if I did not find a suitable husband from the guests you had invited to the coming celebration.”
There was great reproach in her words, something Rosamund found infuriating. She would not let her daughter reproach her in any way and her anger began to rise.
“You are wrong,” Rosamund said, her eyes flashing in a way that Kathalin found most intimidating. “You have utterly misconstrued the contents of our conversation for your own selfish wants. What I said, exactly, was that you should allow your father and me to have the celebration in honor of your return home. I asked that you meet people and become exposed to a world you have never known. I then said that if, at the end of the celebration, you still wished to take your vows as a nun, I would consider it. Never, at any time, did I give you permission to approve your husband.”
Kathalin was stunned to realize that the woman was correct. She had remembered the conversation, or at least she thought she had, but now that Rosamund had repeated her words, Kathalin realized that, indeed, her mother was correct. Feeling sick and frightened, she struggled to recover.
“You led me to believe that I had a say in the matter,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as tremulous as she felt. “What am I supposed to think when you ask me to experience a world I never knew? To meet the young men you have invited to vie for my hand? I was led to believe I would have some say in this matter.”
“If that is what you feel you were led to believe, then you were mistaken.”
She sounded so cold. Kathalin was truly taken aback, thinking this was not the same woman she had first met those days ago, the woman who had shared the details of her affliction and had been grateful for Kathalin’s concern. This wasn’t the same woman who had pleaded for understanding when she told Kathalin that she had sent her children away because she had been afraid her children would c
ontract her disease. Kathalin had foolishly fallen for the woman’s explanation enough so that she felt pity towards Rosamund and forgave her.
But that had been her grave mistake. Whether or not Rosamund’s explanation was the truth, Kathalin would never know because the woman before her wasn’t the same woman at all. This was someone cold and calculating, not to be crossed.
The true Rosamund was finally revealed.
Kathalin had been betrayed.
“Then you knew about this betrothal,” she finally said.
Rosamund maintained her intense gaze. “Of course I did,” she said. “I suggested it.”
It was a blow to the belly as far as Kathalin was concerned. She thought she had an ally in her mother but she couldn’t have been further from the truth. Now, it was all becoming clear; Kathalin had never had any say in her future in spite of what Rosamund had led her to believe. She was as she had always been, simply a pawn who also happened to be the daughter of a disconnected earl and his calculating wife. Now, it was out in the open. Kathalin had to accept the truth.
Her parents had never cared for her at all.
Feeling foolish, and sad, the resentment she had always felt for her parents began to make a return but Kathalin refused to give in to that old hatred. For now, she wanted something from her mother and she wasn’t going to leave until she had it. Being angry and resentful towards Rosamund would not help her cause. She had to be as calculating as her mother was but that wasn’t in Kathalin’s nature. She hadn’t any practice at it. Still, she had to try.
“Then I suppose I should thank you,” Kathalin said. “Alexander is a very kind man and the House of de Lohr is very prestigious.”
Rosamund’s hard eyes eased somewhat. It had been clear that she had been gearing up for a battle, so Kathalin’s instant agreement was rather unexpected. The bright eyes softened, but still, she was on her guard. With that in mind, she continued the conversation carefully.
Dark Destroyer (De Wolfe Pack Book 6) Page 30
