‘How?’ she asked through stiff lips.
‘A slow-acting poison.’
‘But why did they want him dead?’
‘A falling out of thieves where our father was concerned, but there was also talk that your mother wanted vengeance. She believed Sir Roger responsible for the death of Martin ap Rowan, whom she had loved.’
‘Davy said Martin was buried at Domfront,’ she said in a low voice.
‘My father apparently planned to kill Owain ap Rowan, whom he held prisoner, but he escaped. There was a fight and my father was knocked to the ground and hit his head on a rock and died.’
Relief flooded Anna’s body. ‘So Owain did not murder him? Oh, I am so glad about that! But why did the Comte attack Owain?’
‘It was to do with money that had been stolen from his father and the King of England.’
‘I—I see. I understand now why Owain and Kate kept the truth from me.’ She shivered at the thought that both her parents had cold-bloodedly conspired to deceive, rob and murder. No wonder Hal and Will had accused her of having bad blood.
Jack said softly, ‘And you still belong to the ap Rowan family, Anna, so don’t be thinking that you don’t.’
‘I am not so certain as you,’ she said sadly.
‘Believe me, there is more to belonging to a family than the blood that runs in one’s veins,’ he insisted.
Anna knew that later she would think about his words, but right now she wanted to know something more from her half-brother. ‘How did you feel when you found out about me?’
He shrugged expressively. ‘My father is not the first man, nor will he be the last, to deceive his wife and sire illegitimate children. William of Normandy, whom you English call the Conqueror, was a bastard son.’ He smiled at her. ‘You are not responsible for my father’s wrongdoings and I am happy to make your acquaintance. You’ve had a long journey and now must take your ease. I’m certain Margaret will be happy to provide you with a change of raiment, and whatever else you may need whilst you are here.’ He stood up. ‘Unfortunately, I will have to leave shortly to go to Bruges for the Michaelmas Fair. But, in the meantime, Jack and I have much to talk about, so if you will excuse us.’ He took his friend’s arm and drew Jack apart from her, leading him over to the far end of the room.
Jack glanced back at her with a worried frown, but Anna had hung her head and appeared not to notice him. He hoped that she would take his words to heart and forget the past. She needed to be reminded how well loved she was by Owain and Kate. What a special, beautiful woman she was, inside and out.
Anna felt as if she had been dismissed now all had been explained. Was she wrong to feel hurt by the two men leaving her alone to wallow in her misery? She really did feel deeply unhappy about her parents’ misdemeanours. Bad blood! Would Will and Hal’s words continue to come back and haunt her for the rest of her life? She rested back in the chair and closed her eyes. What a fool she had been, not to have heeded Davy when he had told her to let the past remain in the past. Exhausted and sick at heart, she wanted to leave this place and hide away somewhere. But perhaps the only place she could find peace was in the convent where she had stayed before. Yet if she were to say to Jack that she wanted to return to England immediately, he would feel honour bound to escort her to Calais. And how could she allow him to do that, knowing he wanted to find Monique? Perhaps after he had left, then she would make her way to Calais. Hopefully, the Hercules would still be anchored there. Right now she felt sick and needed fresh air. Trembling, she rose to her feet and left the room.
For a moment she stood outside in the passage, uncertain which way to go. It was guesswork that led her out into the moonlit garden. She stood there, retching, praying she would not vomit into the flower bed. Slowly she began to recover and breathed deeply of the spicy scent of gillyflowers and the sweet perfume of a late-blooming rose. She could hear the tinkling of water and impulsively followed the sound to the pond. She gazed at the statue of a boy with a pitcher on his shoulder from which poured water and thought of her son.
How long she stood there with tears rolling down her cheeks when Jack called her, she had no idea. She did not answer him, hoping he would leave her to her solitude. She had to cut him out of her life, not cry on his shoulder.
‘Anna, are you all right?’ he called. ‘Answer me!’
She wondered how he knew she was in the garden. A wild guess? Although, where else could she have gone if they had yet to be shown to the guest bedchambers? She could hear his footsteps moving about the garden and fatalistically knew he would find her. There was little sense in trying to hide. Why could he not leave her alone? Perhaps he felt guilty for having been the one to tell her that her father was a murderer. She sank down on to a bench, facing the pond.
Sensing when he stood behind her, she said, ‘Please, go away, Jack.’
‘I can’t do that,’ he replied, walking forward and standing in front of her.
She darted him a glance and then looked at the pond. ‘Why not? You’ve done what I asked you to and soon you will be able to go about your own business.’
‘That’s what I intend to do, but I still feel some responsibility for you,’ he said roughly.
‘Why should you? You were against my coming to France and you were right. I should have listened to you. Then I would never have discovered that I truly do have bad blood in me.’
‘That’s nonsense,’ he said angrily.
‘It is the truth,’ she cried, clenching her fists.
‘You heard Raoul, you cannot be blamed for what your parents did.’
‘I was born in sin! I am tainted by their evil deeds.’
‘The sin was not yours! Look at Raoul, he is not evil, but a good man.’ He moved so that he was silhouetted against the sky and loomed over her. ‘We’ve spent a lot of time in each other’s company lately. You’d never harm anyone. I know you, Anna.’
She sprang to her feet. ‘Do you?’ she fired at him, her eyes glistening with tears. ‘Well, you didn’t always give the impression that you wanted to know me better. In fact you couldn’t wait to get rid of me. Now I know why. From the beginning you’ve had a suspicion about my parents. It was only your sense of duty that made you come this far, but now you are free to go.’ She waved both hands at him. ‘Go, Jack. Go find Monique.’
He drew in his breath with a hiss. ‘What do you know about Monique?’ His voice sounded raw. She was aghast; she had not intended letting him know that she knew his secret. ‘Tell me, Anna, or I will shake the answer out of you.’ He seized hold of her and drew her towards him.
She struggled. ‘What does it matter? It is obvious that she fills your dreams so much that you mistook me for her last night.’
‘What are you saying? How did I mistake you for her?’ demanded Jack, shaking her. ‘What did I do?’
‘You kissed me,’ she cried. ‘Later you asked her where she had gone. Well, now you can go and find her. Obviously, she is the reason why you came to France.’
Jack was amazed that he could have kissed Anna and been unaware of it. His stomach clenched at the thought. ‘I didn’t go further than a kiss, did I?’
‘If you’re asking me whether…you…well, you…didn’t,’ she said.
He closed his eyes. ‘Thank God! Forgive me, Anna, for taking advantage of you. It was not my intention. These days, I can scarcely remember what Monique looked like. I should explain that she is dead.’
‘Dead!’ Anna felt extremely odd. ‘But you loved her?’
‘Aye.’ He could feel Anna trembling and guessed he had frightened her earlier. He wanted to soothe away her fears and take her mind off the foolish belief that she had bad blood. He stroked her face. ‘Monique is lost to me now, killed by the same man who sold me into slavery.’
‘What is his name?’
‘The Comte de Briand. Davy brought me news of him. He is with King Louis’s forces at Amiens.’
‘Is he the reason why you are here?’ she asked b
luntly.
‘Aye. But you must not worry about him.’ All he could think about was the woman in his arms. His intention had been only to comfort, but now, feeling her so soft and warm against his body, he could no longer resist pressing a kiss against her petal-soft cheek.
‘Jack?’ Her voice was a whisper. She could feel his arousal and was amazed that she had such power to so easily arouse him. Was she a witch without realising it? She wanted him to make love to her, but it would be wrong to encourage him to use her as a substitute for Monique. Yet if he had not come here seeking her, then what was his business in France? A thought occurred to her and she experienced a different kind of fear. She forced herself to still his hand. ‘Don’t try to silence me with flowery words and a gentle touch. I want to know what is your business with this Comte de Briand?’ Her voice was unsteady.
‘It is none of your affair, Anna.’ Jack dropped his arms and moved away from her. ‘I was not trying to silence you,’ he said emphatically. ‘I fear you use that as an excuse because you don’t want my ugly face close to yours.’
‘You are not ugly!’ she exclaimed in a vexed voice, drawing close to him again. Reaching out, she traced the length of his scar with the tip of a finger. He flinched. ‘How did you come by this?’
‘I cannot tell you! The remembrance shames me and I deem you only say that I am not ugly because you have a kind heart.’
Anna shook her head. ‘I am saying it because it is the truth!’ Standing on tiptoe, she pressed her lips against his scarred cheek. She felt a tremor pass through him and experienced again that sense of power that her touch could so affect him. Shame filled her as it occurred to her that to enjoy such power was wrong. Maybe she was truly all those things that Hal and Will had accused her of being? She stepped away from him. ‘But no matter—if you do not wish to believe me then it is your choice. I have made up my mind to return home. You were right in the first place, Jack, my wits had gone begging when I decided to come to France. I will make my way to Calais and seek out the Hercules.’
Jack had wanted to draw her back into his arms and kiss her, but now he wanted to shake her until the teeth rattled in her head. ‘Don’t be foolish! How many times have I told you about the dangers of travel for a lady on her own? Have you forgotten that the English soldiery is camped outside Amiens?’
‘Of course not.’ She frowned. ‘Is that the road I must take to reach Calais?’
‘Aye, but you must not think of doing so. Surely it makes sense after your coming here to stay for a while? Rest, spend time with Raoul’s wife when he goes to Bruges. I’m sure the Comtesse will be able to arrange for servants to escort you to Calais when you are ready to go home.’
‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘I do not belong here. I will do what I please and leave on the morrow for Calais.’
He stared at her in disbelief and caught the gleam of her eyes and the faint shine of her moist lips in the moonlight. ‘You can’t do this. I will not allow it, Anna.’
‘You cannot stop me! You go about your own business and leave me to sort out my own life. I am no longer your responsibility.’
‘I saved your life,’ he said, losing his temper and pulling her into his arms. ‘Whilst I am alive, I will always feel I bear some responsibility for you.’
‘Now, who is talking nonsense?’ She struggled to free herself, but it was as if she was a butterfly imprisoned in an iron fist. Suddenly she wondered why she was trying to escape when she was where she wanted to be. She drooped against him and rested her head against his chest.
Her submission was so unexpected that Jack was suddenly at a loss what to do next. Really, he should release her and walk away, but instead he wanted to go on holding her. He wanted to stop hating and start loving, instead. Hatred and grief had held him captive far too long. He wished he could lose himself in her. He wanted the comfort of being held in a woman’s arms and, most desperately, he wanted to kiss Anna and make love to her. Could he have really believed she was Monique last night? Before he could have second thoughts, he lowered his head and brushed his lips against Anna’s. She did not pull away and he felt her quiver in his arms. He was aware of his own inner trembling, but could no longer pretend that kissing her was purely a test to see if he could tell the difference between her and Monique. If he was honest with himself, he had wanted Anna since he had pulled her up on to his horse. In a few days he could be dead and then he would never know what it would have felt like to have made love to the Lady Anna Fenwick.
He drew her even closer. Surely in the light of their parting and her recent suffering they could indulge themselves for a short while. He kissed her again and he felt her lips part to allow his tongue’s teasing exploration. The heat in his loins was growing and he wanted to tear off her clothes and make love to her here in the secret darkness of the garden with the heady scent of flowers all around them. No ugliness, no hatred, no fear here. He could hear the tinkling sound of the fountain and it was like music in his ears. His fingers fumbled with the fastening at her throat and his mouth nudged aside the neck of her gown and down to her waist. His ears caught her gasp as he exposed her breasts, but he was too caught up in the heat of the moment to heed it. He gazed at their pale glowing loveliness and bent his head to caress their enticing peaks with his lips. This time he could not ignore her sighs of pleasure.
Suddenly she began to struggle and push him away. ‘No, Jack. I will not have you believe me a wanton witch.’
‘God’s blood! Anna, I don’t believe that at all,’ said Jack, feeling all to pieces as he was dragged into the real world again. He had to exert iron control over every nerve, muscle and sinew to move away from her. He would have to leave her to fasten her gown; such finicky work was beyond him. He ran a shaking hand through his hair. ‘The blame is all mine.’
‘No. What happened between us just now proves how proud and yet also how mortally weak I am.’ She did not look at him, but began to do up her fastenings.
Jack was about to argue with her when he became aware of whisperings. His senses had been trained to respond to the slightest hint of danger during his travels. Now he was warned of the possible approach of their host and his lady. He responded immediately by seizing Anna’s hand and drawing her down on to the bench. She would have wrenched her hand free because she had not finished fastening up her gown, but he said in an undertone, ‘Keep still.’
When she obeyed him, he realised that now she was aware that they were not alone. He fixed his eyes on the statue of the boy, which shone faintly in the light of the rising moon. Already in a highly emotional state, Jack was filled with a deep sense of despair. The boy reminded him of Philippe and the cost to his son of his past reckless behaviour. He could not deny the strength of his desire for Anna. But it was love she wanted and he could not give her what she needed. His lust might destroy her, convincing her that she was the temptress she had been accused of being.
The whisperings had ceased and it occurred to him that Raoul might have decided it might be wiser to leave his guests alone for the moment. Jack decided to wait a while before suggesting they return to the house.
Anna was also still in the grip of high emotion. She likened the shock of all that had taken place in the last hour to having been dropped into a rushing river and buffeted against rocks. Now she was struggling to find safe ground to stand upon. She waited for Jack to speak, but when he did not, she was unable to bear the suspense any longer.
‘When will you leave, Jack?’ she asked.
‘You would be rid of me now? I don’t blame you,’ he rasped. ‘You can have no part in the business that brought me to France.’
‘You mean you plan to meet the Comte de Briand in battle? Isn’t that foolish of you, Jack? Would it not be better to put the past behind you and go to Bruges with Raoul, instead? You’ve advised me to put the past behind me—why don’t you take your own advice?’
There was a long silence. Jack gazed at the bronze boy in the moonlight and was instantly transf
erred to another time and another garden.
‘I had a son once,’ he said.
Anna thought she must have misheard him. ‘What did you say?’
Jack took a deep breath and realised he wanted her to know the truth. Then she would understand why he had to face Briand. ‘You judge yourself by what your parents did, Anna. But I carry the scars of a greater sin within me. I have never spoken of this to anyone else, not even my brother. Monique bore me a son, but we could not marry because she was the wife of the Comte de Briand.’
Anna was shocked by this revelation. How could the Jack she admired and respected commit such a mortal sin? The decent man she knew or thought she knew would never have committed such a sin and risked his immortal soul. She did not wish to believe him and wanted to scream that he was lying to her.
‘I beg you not to judge me or Monique out of hand, Anna,’ rasped Jack. ‘Monique was a child when she was forced into marriage. Her husband was a widower in his forties and depraved. The acts he forced her to do with other men would turn your stomach. She ran away from him and we set up home together. Somehow he managed to trace her and killed her before I could prevent it. I managed to get the maid and my son out of the house. I fought the Comte and that is when I got this scar. It will always be a reminder that I failed my son because unfortunately Briand did not come alone and I became his prisoner.’ Jack had spoken in a monotone, but now his voice rose slightly. ‘For three days I believed the maid had managed to get Philippe to safety, but then my hopes were dashed when Briand told me that he had found them and my son was dead.’ He ignored her gasp of horror. ‘I wanted to die when he told me that Philippe was dead, but Briand wished me to suffer the agonies of guilt and a lifetime of slavery before ending my life in an alien land.’
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