The physic nodded. “She awakened a short time ago and we were able to feed her some broth,” he replied, returning his attention to Cantia. “Does the earl know you are here? I cannot imagine he would let you come here and risk your health.”
Cantia tore her gaze off the supine bundle, her eyes flashing as she looked at the physic.
“You will mind your own business,” she snapped. “If you tell him I was here, I will make sure you are thrown out on your ear.”
The physic lifted a hand in supplication and returned his attention to whatever he had been doing when she had entered the hut. Cantia, however, was unforgiving. She didn’t want an audience for what she was about to do. She didn’t want anyone witnessing what was likely to be a very emotional moment, gossip fodder to be spread throughout Rochester.
“Get out,” she commanded. “Get out this instant.”
The physic set his implements down and, without question, vacated the shack. The serving wench quickly followed. When the door swung shut behind them, Cantia returned her attention to the woman in the corner.
What am I doing here? The thought kept rolling around in Cantia’s head as she approached the bed. She still didn’t really know. As sunlight streamed in between the gaps in the walls, filtering in through the musty shadows, she came to a halt next to the straw mattress, gazing down at the partially-covered face.
The woman was breathing heavily. She could hear it. A wet cloth covered her nose and mouth, and Cantia reached down, gingerly took a corner, and pulled it off. The features of the woman were fair, if not somewhat plain, but she could see Arabel in the shape of the face. There was also a big dimple in the woman’s chin, just like her daughter. Aye, the more Cantia stared, the more she could see the resemblance. Her heart began to pound.
“Louisa?” she whispered, paused, then whispered loudly. “Lady Louisa? Can you hear me?”
The woman twitched, drawing in a deep breath that brought rowels from her chest. Cantia stood back somewhat, not wanting to get too close, but she made sure she was close enough that the woman could see her. She tried again.
“Lady Louisa,” she said in a normal speaking tone. “Can you hear me? Please awaken.”
The woman twitched again. It took two more tries from Cantia to rouse the woman until, finally, the eyelids lifted. The eyes were only slightly open, however, and Cantia bent down so she could meet the woman’s muddled gaze. Dark eyes finally fixed on her.
“Lady Louisa?” she said, more gently. “Are you Lady Louisa?”
The woman just stared at her. Then, she shifted slightly, trying to lift her head when she realized a very beautiful pregnant woman in fine garments was speaking to her. But she was so very, very weak, her life all but drained from her by the disease that was swiftly consuming her. All she could do was lay upon the straw and gaze, weakly, at the very fine lady.
“Qui vous est?” she rasped.
Who are you? Cantia replied to her in French. “My name is the Lady Cantia Penden,” she replied. “I am the Lady of Rochester Castle, and you have been brought to us. Are you Louisa of Hesse?”
The woman continued to stare at her. Cantia waited, with bated breath, for a response, but none was immediately forthcoming. It was evident that the woman was too weak to carry on a conversation. Finally, the dark eyes closed. Cantia waited a nominal amount of time before realizing she might not receive an answer. As she debated on whether or not to leave, the woman spoke.
“J’étais, une fois,” she whispered. I was, once. She continued in French. “Now I am the wind. I will blow away until I exist no longer.”
Cantia listened to the barely-audible words. “Do you know why you have been brought to Rochester?” she asked softly.
There was a very long pause. “I do not know. Men came to my home and took me away but they did not tell me why. I can only ask that you allow me to die in peace.”
“No one has told you anything?”
“No.”
Cantia considered what she would say next very carefully. “You have been brought to Rochester because your husband and daughter are here,” she said quietly. “You were brought here as a favor to me.”
The woman didn’t react for a moment. Then, the eyes opened again, only this time, they opened wider. The woman actually appeared lucid. The pasty face registered an expression for the first time.
“My…?” she whispered. “My… child is here?”
Cantia lowered herself to sit on the ground so the woman wouldn’t strain herself looking up at her. The conversation was difficult enough already. Several feet away, she sat on her bum in her fine surcoat and faced the woman.
“I want you to listen to me and listen carefully,” she demanded. “Can you do this?”
The woman was hesitant at first but eventually nodded, as much as she could muster. “I can.”
Cantia acknowledged the reply, wondering what, exactly, to say at this point. She wondered if she should be selective about what she told the woman but eventually opted for everything because she had come this far and there was no reason to hold back. For Tevin’s sake, and hers, she would be forthcoming with the hope that the woman would be forthcoming as well.
“Long ago, you were married to Tevin du Reims,” she finally said. “You are still married to him.”
The woman’s pale face registered even more shock. “How… how would you know this?”
Cantia tried to be careful. “I know this because he loves me and I love him,” she whispered. “We cannot be married because he is still married to you. He did not know your fate, whether you were dead or alive, so a… a friend swore to find you so that we would know what had become of you. If you were alive, perhaps you would grant Tevin an annulment, but if you were dead… then at least we would know. I carry Tevin’s child and we very much wish to be married but we cannot do that so long as… well, so long as you are still his wife.”
The woman stared at her, shock turning to disbelief and, strangely, some understanding. “That is why… why…?”
Cantia simply nodded as the woman trailed off. Then she regarded her carefully for several long moments.
“Tell me why you left him,” she said softly. “Tell me why you abandoned Tevin and Arabel.”
The woman regarded her in return. She simply lay there and stared at her, some of the shock gone from her face as she came to understand why she had been brought to Rochester. With that understanding came defiance, and perhaps some self-preservation.
“He has brought me here to kill me,” she finally muttered.
Cantia shook her head. “No one is going to kill you. But I would like to know why you left.”
The woman didn’t reply for a moment, but her expression didn’t waver. When she finally spoke, it was with surprising strength.
“It was so long ago,” she muttered. “Why does it matter now?”
“Because it does. Please tell me.”
The woman hesitated for a brief moment before complying. She figured she had nothing to lose. She was dying anyway. What more could she say that wouldn’t hasten that death?
“My name is Louisa Berthilde Solveig of the House of Hesse-Rheinfels,” she said. “My father was Maurice the Bold of Hess-Rheinfels, the man who pledged me to Titus du Reims’ son when I was still a very young girl. I had never met Tevin du Reims before the day we married, when I was still a child myself of fourteen years. I did not want to marry him, you see, because I was in love with my beautiful Kael. We had fallen in love as children and were deeply devoted to each other. It was Kael who escorted me to my wedding with Tevin and watched the woman he loved marry another. He even stayed with me during my first year of marriage, as part of a contingent of soldiers my father left behind for my personal protection.”
Cantia was listening intently to the stilted French with the heavy Germanic accent. Moreover, the woman spoke very softly and it was difficult to hear. But the story was essentially what Tevin had told her.
“If Kael was wit
h you for so long, why did you wait until Arabel was born before leaving?” she wanted to know. “Why not leave right away?”
Louisa was exhausted from all of the talking but, somehow, she felt the increasing need to speak. She had not spoken of such things for fifteen years and in repeating the memories, she was reliving them. Visions of her beloved Kael were coming to mind and she could not help herself. From the dying woman’s heart, the words were flowing forth.
“Since I am not long for this world, it does not matter what I say,” she whispered. “You want to know and I will tell you.”
“I just want to know the truth.”
“But why?”
“For Tevin’s sake. Please tell me the truth.”
Louisa regarded her for a moment, the dark eyes glittering with the last embers of her life force. “What has he told you?”
“Just what you told me. He said you left him for another knight you were in love with from your homeland.”
Louisa listened, digested, then took a deep breath. Her mind began to wander. “That is what my father told Tevin,” she murmured. “But it was not the truth. Not entirely, anyway.”
Cantia’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Louisa’s gaze grew distant. “My beautiful Kael was my love, my heart, my life,” she said softly. “Tevin was never unkind. In fact, he was inordinately sensitive to my position. He seemed to understand I did not want to be married to him. I took advantage of that kindness. I was horrible to him.”
“How?”
“Kael and I were lovers,” she whispered, as if suddenly contrite after all of these years. “Tevin would share my bed at night and when he would leave to go about his duties, Kael would share it. Shortly after we were married, I… I became pregnant when Tevin went away. I knew he would more than likely send me away in disgrace at the very least if he knew the child was not his, so upon his return, I made sure to act as the attentive and affectionate wife, and we coupled. It was early enough in the pregnancy that I was able to tell Tevin the child was his, but I knew differently. When Arabel was born, she looked exactly like Kael. Terrified for my life, Kael convinced me to flee with him, so I did.”
By this time, Cantia was gazing at the woman with shock. “Kael is Arabel’s father?” she hissed. “Not Tevin?”
Louisa shook her head. “No.”
Cantia’s hand ended up over her mouth in an astonished gesture, hardly believing what she was hearing. “You are certain of this?”
“I am.”
“Then… then you did not leave because she was crippled?”
Louisa sighed heavily. “I left because Kael convinced me that Tevin would kill me if he discovered the truth.” She paused as a hint of a smile crossed her lips. “Kael and I lived together in Paris for three years until he left me for another woman. I was alone, with no money, so I contacted my father, who proceeded to inform me that he no longer had a daughter. He was ashamed of my behavior and disowned me. So I stayed in Paris and made money the only way I could. I was a prostitute.”
Cantia was overwhelmingly astonished at the story. Her mouth was hanging open and she had to make a conscious effort to close it.
“Why did you not contact Tevin?” she pressed. “Perhaps… perhaps he would have taken you back.”
Louisa shook her head. “And bring more humiliation towards him? To have a wife abandon you is bad enough, but to take her back… it would only make him look like a fool. I would not do that to him, for he was kind to me. I was simply a silly, foolish girl who made a very bad decision.”
Cantia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Louisa’s story rolled over and over in her mind until she was nearly giddy with it. After several long moments, she simply shook her head.
“I am sorry,” she didn’t know what else to say. “I am sorry a mistake cost you your entire life.”
Louisa’s dark eyes warmed. “It is better for Tevin and Arabel this way,” she replied. Then, the eyes took on a wistful gaze. “My daughter is still alive, then?”
Cantia nodded. “She is frail but she is otherwise healthy,” she said. “Tevin is devoted to her. She is beautiful and brilliant.”
The dark eyes misted over and tears found their way onto Louisa’s temple. “I had always wondered,” she whispered. “I never stopped praying for her but I knew she was better off with Tevin. There was no life I could offer her. That is why I never returned for her.”
Cantia began to mist up as well, thinking of Hunt, of the baby she carried, and so thankful that Louisa had that same mothering instinct in spite of the fact that she left her child. For Arabel’s sake, she was glad. It was too little, too late, but at least the woman was showing remorse.
“Thank you,” she finally whispered, tears verging. “Thank you for telling me your story.”
Louisa merely closed her eyes, her mind moving to times past, of the knight she had been in love with and of the powerful husband she had betrayed because of that love. Her exhaustion overwhelmed her and her breathing began to grow heavy again. The emotions, the illness, were too much to bear.
It was clear the conversation was over. Cantia watched the woman for several minutes before struggling to her feet. As she silently turned for the door, Louisa stopped her.
“My lady,” she said softly. “I have no right, but I would like to ask something of you.”
Cantia paused. “Of course.”
“I would like to see my daughter. If it is possible, I would be grateful.”
Cantia could only nod. She could not give permission, as that was Tevin’s decision. With a lingering glance at the frail woman on the mattress, she quit the shack and strolled out into the brisk air of the waning day.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“I told you not to go near her,” Tevin was livid. “Why did you disobey me, Cantia? Do you know what you have done? You have foolishly jeopardized your life and the life of the baby by going there. I did not believe you to be so foolish until now.”
Cantia sat in the solar, her head lowered as Tevin raged. He was genuinely enraged, ever since he saw her walking across the bailey of Rochester and intercepted her. He had been glad to see her until he asked her where she had been and she had been truthful with him, mostly because she couldn’t think of a lie fast enough. Now, he was furious and it was only growing worse.
“Well?” he barked. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Cantia’s head remained lowered and she shook her head. She didn’t want to tell him about her visit to Louisa, not until he calmed down, so she kept her mouth shut. That only seemed to make him madder.
“You have nothing to say to me?” he put his hands on his hips, a sharp gesture. “Are you just going to sit there?”
She nodded. He threw up his hands and stomped around the solar, slamming the door in Myles’ face when the man heard the shouting and peeked in to see what was going on. Infuriated, Tevin kicked a chair out of the way, breaking it, as he marched over to the lancet windows for a breath of cool air. He needed it before he broke more furniture.
“Foolish,” he growled, his gaze moving out over the bailey. “Foolish, stupid and idiotic. Are those truly your qualities? I would have never guessed but today you have made me rethink that opinion.”
His anger was starting to hurt, right though it was. For lack of a better response, and to force him to cool his anger sooner rather than later, she burst into quiet tears. He whirled away from the window when he heard the sobs. As Cantia knew, his anger took a dousing and he stared at her a moment, watching her heaving shoulders, before sighing heavily. All of the fight began to fizzle out of him.
“Do not weep,” he told her softly, gruffly. “I was not trying to hurt you but… Cantia, why did you do it? I told you not to go there for a reason. I did not want you exposed to her disease.”
Cantia only wept louder and turned away from him. “I do not want to talk to you right now,” she sobbed. “Go away and leave me alone. You are hateful and mean.”
He was starting to fold and trying not to. He began to make his way in her direction. “I am not leaving,” he told her firmly but quietly. “I am sorry if I hurt your feelings, but you know what you did was wrong.”
She put an arm on the back of the chair and lay her forehead upon it, sobbing. “You are nasty and terrible,” she wept. “Go away.”
“I am not going away.”
“I am not going to talk to you.”
“Then we shall make an odd stand-off.”
She could hear him moving around behind her as he pulled up a chair and plopped down on it. She knew he wasn’t about to leave but that had been her plan. He was calming down and that was all she wanted. To further speed that process, she stood up from the chair and rubbed at her belly, which always made Tevin want to rub it, too, because when she did it was usually when the baby was kicking and he didn’t want to miss it. But he stayed on his chair, watching her, his hands clasped on his lap. Wiping at her eyes, she still made sure to sniffle and hiccup appropriately as she went to the lancet window and allowed the breeze to cool her warm cheeks.
Several minutes passed. Fifteen minutes passed and still, she said nothing. Tevin just watched her. Approaching the half-hour mark, he finally broke their stalemate.
“Are you ever going to speak to me?” he asked.
Cantia wasn’t ready to fold. She wanted him to feel very bad about yelling at her so she turned away from the window and went to the solar door.
“I do not feel very well,” she announced. “I am going to lie down for a while.”
He was on his feet, moving towards her. “What is wrong?”
She opened the door. “I am exhausted from all of your yelling.” She finally turned to him, tears gone and a spark of anger in her eye. “You could have simply asked me, quite calmly, what I had been doing rather than yelling at me and calling me foolish. You did not have to react that way.”
His expression tightened up and he struggled not to feel remorse. “I am not going to apologize for becoming angry. I had every right.”
Masters of Medieval Romance: Series Starters Volume 1 Page 72
