‘There will be…no betrothal between us,’ he said quietly. ‘I will…speak to your father.’
It was a matter of salvaging his pride, she realised. ‘I am sorry for what I did.’
‘Go to him.’ Ademar gestured towards the hall. ‘The man you truly want.’
Honora didn’t bother arguing, but picked up her skirts to hurry. Inside, a soldier barred her path, preventing her from entering her father’s private chamber.
‘Let me pass,’ she ordered.
‘Lord Ardennes has forbidden it.’ The guard kept his hand upon his sword hilt, though she knew he would never use it against her. He expected her to be intimidated by him, to walk away meekly.
She eyed him closely, judging his weight and girth. Slowly, she turned, as if to walk away. She visualised her opponent in her mind, remembering exactly the position of his sword and knife blade.
Swiftly, she turned and ran at the guard, pulling his weight off-centre and kicking his legs out from underneath. He crashed to the ground and she stumbled over him, throwing open the door to her father’s chamber.
Conversation halted when she intruded. John sat before the Baron. His face was heavily swollen, his nose at an awkward angle.
Good. He deserved every blow and worse for what he’d done, both to her and the people of Ceredys.
Her father’s grim expression turned furious. ‘Honora, you were not asked to be a part of this.’
‘Did John tell you that he attacked me while I was in the chapel last night? Ewan came to my defence.’
‘So MacEgan said.’ Nicholas glanced over at Ewan, who was standing with his arms bound behind him. ‘But John also told me that you cut him with your own blade. And that you took jewels that rightfully belonged to him.’
Her hand tightened upon the dagger at her waist. ‘There were no jewels.’
John regarded her with a cool expression. The menace behind his eyes made her want to step further away, but she held her ground.
‘Marie St Leger told me, before she died, that she gave them to you.’ John crossed his arms.
‘Then they would be mine, wouldn’t they?’
‘They were not hers to give,’ John argued. ‘Return them to me, and I will forgive your act of violence.’ His voice softened, as though she were a wayward child.
He had no idea just what acts of violence she was imagining at the moment.
She turned to Nicholas. ‘Father, let Ewan go. He did nothing more than defend me.’
‘We have already reached an agreement.’ Ewan did not direct the comment towards her, but instead towards her father. ‘I will leave Ardennes.’
Leave? But he couldn’t leave. Her heart thudded as though it had dropped through an abyss.
‘As I told your father,’ Ewan said tightly, ‘I no longer wish to wed Katherine. It was her request, not mine.’ His dark green eyes bore into her with unspoken words. ‘There is no other reason for me to stay.’
Her lips parted, but Honora said nothing. What had she expected? That he would want to marry her instead? That he would give up his desire for land, for her?
No. He would return to his life, and she to hers. It was better this way.
Why, then, did it hurt so much to think of him leaving?
Ewan cast a frigid stare at John. ‘The horse is yours. As compensation for your injuries.’ With a glance back at Ardennes, he added, ‘The matter is now finished.’
When Ewan was dismissed from the chamber, Honora followed him. She sensed that more had happened, more that he wasn’t telling her. But he never broke his stride, never slowed to speak to her. She had to run to catch up with him, and even then, she felt that he wanted nothing to do with her. What had changed?
‘Ewan, what are you going to do?’ She put her hand upon his shoulder.
The effect upon him was immediate. He placed his hand upon the small of her back and guided her towards the garden. He wanted privacy, she suddenly understood.
When they stood alone, he rested his hand upon the stone wall surrounding the garden of herbs. ‘I’m returning home to Erin.’
He reached out and took her bruised wrist, smoothing over the injured skin with his thumb. Her heartbeat quickened, and his gentle touch seemed to soothe the abrasion.
‘Have you told Katherine?’ Her sister would be devastated to find out that Ewan was abandoning her.
‘Aye. She knows.’ The tight muscles of Ewan’s forearm flexed against his weight. ‘I’m leaving at dawn.’
Honora wanted to beg him to stay, though she knew he wouldn’t. ‘This is my fault,’ she whispered. ‘If I could go back and change it, I would.’
‘It was my choice.’ Ewan studied her closely, and bent forwards. ‘I could never wed Katherine and be fair to her. Not when I wanted you instead.’
He leaned in and kissed her softly, the kiss of a man who meant everything to her.
But it was a kiss goodbye.
Chapter Thirteen
‘You wanted to see me.’ Honora joined her father once more in his private chamber. The afternoon sun cast beams of light upon her father’s chair, in contrast to her sunken spirits. She had sought out Katherine, only to find that her sister was avoiding her.
Nicholas laced his fingers together upon the scarred wooden table, his posture stiff. ‘I am sending you back to Ceredys. John will escort you home.’
No. He wouldn’t force her to leave, not with the man who had injured her. Would he?
‘I won’t go with him,’ she insisted. If her father truly cared for her welfare, he’d have ordered John to leave, not Ewan. But now she understood that the anger and frustration on his face was directed at her. ‘Last night in the chapel, John attacked me. Does that not matter to you?’ Honora extended her wrist and showed him the dark bruises encircling it.
But her father paid the injury no heed. ‘I am disappointed in you, Honora,’ he said. ‘You shouldn’t have provoked Ceredys.’
‘How can you come to John’s defence? He nearly broke my wrist!’ She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Nicholas behaved as though the injury was her fault.
‘Did you take the ruby?’ he asked. ‘The one he spoke of?’
Outraged arguments filled up inside her, but what did it matter if she denied it? Her father believed the lies of a man who had harmed her.
‘I took nothing.’ The words were swollen inside her throat. ‘I swear to you.’
Nicholas let go of her wrist, shaking his head. ‘I don’t know whether you speak the truth or not.’ He stared at her, his face grim. ‘I had hoped that Sir Ademar would take you off my hands. But now even that possibility is lost.’
‘Take me off your—’ Her words broke off, the fury building up so much that it was hard to breathe. ‘Am I a burden to you? Your own daughter?’
‘Honora, you have a home. You have lands of your own, lands that you’re neglecting, I might add. I didn’t mind that you came to visit, but I never expected you to run away from your responsibilities.’
Honora’s throat closed up, and she fought the urge to throw something. She clenched her knife, struggling to keep her temper still. ‘I will return to Ceredys,’ she said, her voice tight and drawn. ‘When I am ready. You can be assured of that.’
And when she did, she would see to it that John never again raised his hand against the people.
Her father was already shaking his head. ‘For your sister’s sake, I want you to leave Ardennes now.’ He lifted his hand in dismissal. ‘It matters not to me where you go. But you’ll not interfere in Katherine’s marriage prospects again.’
Honora stilled, for she wasn’t ready to go. Not yet. She hadn’t made any plans, nor had she thought beyond the next sennight. ‘You’re casting the blame upon me. And I don’t know why.’ The ill feeling in her stomach worsened.
‘You are to blame,’ he said softly. ‘Katherine accepted MacEgan’s suit, and that very night she saw you embracing him.’
The blood seemed to cease within her body, for she hadn’
t known it. She hadn’t stopped to think who might have seen them, she was so caught up in the moment. And the truth was, she should have pushed Ewan away. She’d allowed him to kiss her, allowed him to touch her in ways she never should have permitted.
‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured. Idly, she rubbed at her aching wrist, wishing she could somehow wipe out everything that had happened. Her life was falling into pieces all around her, and she could do nothing to stop it.
She was about to leave when her father stepped in front of her. Nicholas reached to her side and withdrew her dagger from its sheath. Tilting it in the light, it cast shadows upon her face.
‘Heed my words, Honora. A true lady would never strike out at a man. She would be obedient and dutiful. That is the only way you will ever find happiness. Never try to exert your will upon a man’s.’ With a flick of his hand, he cast the blade against the stone wall. The pommel struck hard and shattered from the impact, breaking free of the blade.
Her father closed the door behind him, leaving her alone. Honora stared at the broken weapon, feeling as though it were herself that was scattered across the floor. Once again, her dagger had been destroyed. It was as if her father had cast her aside, the same as the weapon. She bit back the swell of tears, staring at the pieces.
The grip and blade were separated, and she knelt down to pick them up. She doubted if it could be repaired this time. The tang of the knife blade was honed down so thin, it was no wonder it had shattered at the blow.
When she retrieved the pommel, the decorative handle felt awkward in her hand, the balance awry. It had been this way ever since she’d left Ceredys. But when she tilted it forwards, she realised it was hollow. Something small and round rolled on to the stone floor.
Honora caught her breath when she spied Marie St Leger’s ruby. Jesu. The oval-shaped gem was slightly narrower than her thumb. She felt uncertain of what to do now. She’d never liked the decoration when the blacksmith had added it, but now she realised Marie had made the pommel as a hiding place for the gemstone. The blacksmith must have wedged the stone inside the hollowed pommel, sealing it to the dagger grip. No one else could have reattached the blade with such skill.
Why had Marie done this? It was clear she had given the gem to Honora for a purpose, knowing how much the blade had meant to her. It was a gift, and Honora felt unworthy of it.
Kneeling upon the floor, she said a silent prayer for the woman’s soul, the ruby clenched in her palm.
Marie St Leger had been an extraordinary woman, a lady who eschewed tradition for the way she believed things ought to be done. She had been delighted to learn of Honora’s skills with a sword and had asked her to demonstrate, sneaking weapons of every sort into the chamber, though Ranulf had forbidden it. Swords, daggers…even a spiked mace at one interval.
But it was the sword Honora knew best, and Marie never tired of watching.
‘Show me what you know,’ the older woman had urged. She’d bribed one of the soldiers to join them one afternoon.
The poor man hadn’t known what to do at first, when Honora had challenged him to a sword match. But when he began losing the fight, he was forced to intensify his efforts, using strength Honora lacked. But blow for blow, Honora struck back until the soldier’s blade went flying out of his hand.
Marie had laughed with delight and handed the embarrassed soldier a bag of coins, ordering him to leave. After he’d gone, she embraced Honora.
‘How I wish I could have learned to fight like you.’ She smiled, tucking Honora’s hand into hers. The wrinkled fingers were frail, but the strength beneath them was undeniable.
‘My son Ranulf might be a fool, but his wife is not.’ She fingered the golden chain around her neck, where the ruby hung. ‘I wish you were the daughter of my blood. I would like to see you rule over all of Ceredys.’
Honora’s smile faded. ‘I don’t know how to manage the estate. I haven’t the knowledge to—’
‘You have the heart.’ Marie touched her shoulder. ‘You know what needs to be done.’ An iron glint sparked within her blue eyes. ‘And you will do it. Rid this place of the evil that grows within it…’ Her voice drifted off, and Honora helped her ease onto the bed. ‘I pray for the day when you will put to rights all that has fallen into disarray.’
Honora held the two pieces of her knife, bowing her head in memory. When she rose, she slid the ruby back inside the pommel, fitting the dagger back together. She would not allow John to find this.
It was not stolen; it was the reminder she’d needed. And she owed it to Marie, to help the people of Ceredys.
Her sister was sitting on the bed, her head bent down. As soon as Honora entered, Katherine raised her chin. The cool expression on her face was quickly masked, and she looked away without a word of greeting. It was no less than what she’d expected.
Honora had bound the broken pieces of her knife to her waist, beneath her girdle. She sat down, waiting for her sister to speak. But a quarter of an hour passed, and Katherine said nothing. At last, Honora attempted an apology. ‘I’m sorry. I never expected—’
‘What? That Ewan would want you instead of me?’ Katherine’s eyes raged with unshed tears. ‘You’re my sister. I cannot believe you would do this to me.’
‘I never asked for his attentions. I don’t even know why it happened.’
Katherine swiped at her cheeks, her skin pale. ‘I know why. It’s because you’ve always been bolder than me. Stronger, with more courage.’ She made a fist and clenched her hands together. ‘I’m not like you, Honora. He wants what I’ll never be.’
Katherine paced across the room, releasing her anger. ‘I blame myself for bringing you along when we were together. I should have known that he would prefer you, between the two of us.’
Honora didn’t know how to respond, for Ewan hadn’t truly wanted her. He hadn’t suggested that she go with him to Erin, not even after they had almost become lovers. He’d chosen to walk away from both of them.
Her chest constricted, and she struggled not to think about what she would do next. If she did, she might lose her senses.
Gripping her arms tightly, Honora admitted, ‘Ewan is leaving Ardennes at dawn.’
‘Are you going with him?’
‘No. I won’t see him again.’
For a long moment, Katherine stared at her. Then she said, ‘You’re a fool. If he wanted me, I would go.’
‘He never asked.’
Accusations hung over the room, and though Honora wanted to make her sister feel better, she had her own troubles to worry about. Namely, where she would go.
She sat down on the floor in front of her trunk. All of her belongings were already inside, along with her chainmail armour. Ewan had returned it to her, after her fight with John.
Honora traced the iron bindings, the rough wood, trying to think of whom she could turn to for help. Then she opened the trunk and began setting aside the belongings she intended to pack.
‘What are you doing?’ Katherine asked, her expression sharpening.
Honora shook her head. ‘Father wants John to accompany me to Ceredys. But I can’t go back with him. Not after he threatened me.’ She set aside a linen shift, staring down at the creamy fabric. ‘Perhaps I’ll go to Normandy. We have kin there.’
Katherine approached her and commanded, ‘You won’t go to Normandy. Go with Ewan.’
‘I can’t. Not after what I did to you—’
‘This isn’t about me any more. He told me he thinks of me like his sister.’ Bitterness rose up within Katherine’s voice. ‘Do you know how I felt? The man I fell in love with doesn’t want me at all.’ She sat down and drew her knees up to her chest, her sapphire gown falling in waves onto the coverlet. Angry tears spilled on to her cheeks. ‘If I can’t have him, at least I can be sure that he’s happy without me.’
Katherine dried her tears, her face pale and cold. ‘Go with him, Honora. And don’t return here again. I’ve no wish to see you.’
Daw
n broke across the sky, and Honora rose from her pallet on the floor. She hadn’t slept at all last night, but had stared at the door. Her skin was cold from not having a coverlet, and her body felt worn down and fragile.
Katherine had left late that night, spending several hours alone before she’d returned to their chamber. Honora hadn’t asked where her sister had gone, but accepted that she’d wanted time to herself.
Quietly she rose, and picked up the small bundle of clothes she’d chosen to bring with her. The armour remained inside her trunk, for she intended to leave it behind.
The morning light brushed the horizon with hints of rose and gold. She donned a cloak over her gown to guard against the chill. The choice she’d made was one that troubled her still, the burden weighing down upon her shoulders.
For she’d decided to ask Ewan for help.
It frightened her, to reach out to him. She’d thought about it all night, questioning the wisdom. But he was the one man she trusted. He wouldn’t turn her away, not when she needed him.
She looked back at her sleeping sister. She’d never intended to hurt Katherine, but apologies could not change anything. Nonetheless, she murmured, ‘I am sorry.’ The coverlet stirred, and she wondered if Katherine had heard her.
Honora cast one more look towards the sleeping figure. With lowered shoulders, she opened the door to leave. Just outside, she recognised two of John’s men-at-arms.
‘Good morn, Lady Honora.’ A soldier stepped forward to block her path.
Icy fear rippled through her. ‘What do you want?’
‘We’ve come to escort you to Lord Ceredys’s chamber,’ the taller soldier said. ‘You will be returning home, upon his orders.’
Before she could retreat, they seized her arms.
‘Katherine!’ she yelped before they closed the door and dragged her off. Honora cursed, fighting to free herself, but one man grasped her wounded wrist. Any motion at all caused a searing pain.
Damn John for this. He had no right to take her captive within her own home.
‘Let go of me!’ she demanded, but they ignored her, forcing her into another chamber. Behind her, she heard the sounds of two men fighting. The soldiers shoved her forward until she hit the stone floor. Her belongings were tossed at her feet.
Taming Her Irish Warrior Page 15
