Redemption (The Montbryce Legacy Anniversary Edition Book 3)
Page 14
Ram rose from his chair as Baudoin walked towards him and the two men embraced. He could see Robert was still conflicted.
“Robert,” Mabelle now spoke, tightening her grip on Ram’s shoulders. “Your father and I hadn’t spoken our wedding vows to each other when this happened. I had gone so far as to cancel the betrothal. If it was a mistake, it’s one that will obviously have repercussions for many people. But we need to do what we’ve always done as a family. We must turn this to our advantage. You’re hurt, but think about the young man who just left us. Everything he has ever believed about his birth is suddenly not true. He has Montbryce blood in his veins. We must help him see the value in that. At this moment he sees himself as nothing, but he’s a Montbryce. He’s your half-brother. You need to be man enough to accept that. We can’t cast him out. I know what it is to lead the life of an outcast, and I have experienced the destructive power of anger.”
“Maman,” her son replied, “I suppose my problem is I have too much Montbryce pride. I expected my father to be perfect and of course that was naive and unfair of me. No one can truly understand the burdens and adversities another person has to face and therefore shouldn’t sit in judgment.”
Turning to his father and looking him in the eye, he said in a strong voice, “Papa, as your heir, I should have been the one to voice the sentiments Baudoin has spoken. My younger brother has put me to shame with his maturity, and I bow to him. I too have no greater aspiration than to be the man you are. You are my liege lord and I am your loyal man.”
Ram clasped the hand Robert proffered and they embraced. Then he turned to his daughter.
She ran to her father and embraced him. “I don’t understand why you feel guilty about it, Papa, if you and Maman weren’t betrothed?”
Ram stroked his beloved daughter’s hair. “My heart told me she was the only woman for me.”
Rhoni looked up at him. “I love you, Papa. I’ll learn to love my new brother.”
Ram and Mabelle had never been prouder of their children. He found it difficult to speak as he watched them struggle with their emotions. “I’ll offer Caedmon the name FitzRam. He may not accept it, but I’ll offer it. We’ll decide between us what lands and titles to confer on him and what he will inherit when I die.”
The three Montbryce children nodded and left together, arm in arm.
Ram and Mabelle stood together, locked in an embrace, his chin resting lightly on the top of her head.
She reassured him. “They understood in confirming their allegiance to you in this matter that it would mean sharing with their newly discovered half-brother.”
“I know, but it pains me that Robert felt it necessary to remind me he’s my heir, though he’s no longer my eldest son.”
The Epitome Of All I Despise
Caedmon had been gone a sennight and Agneta was frantic. Tybaut had assured her he’d delivered the message about his visit and, as far as he knew, Sir Caedmon had met with the earl.
Where was he and why had she heard nothing? He’d said it would be two or three days at the most. Why hadn’t he returned or sent a message?
Lady Ascha was acting strangely and scurried off to her chamber when Agneta broached the subject of Caedmon’s prolonged absence. She took all her meals in her own chamber. Leofric paced and Agneta could see the concern etched on his face when he returned from several fruitless rides out into the surrounding countryside to find his friend.
By the tenth day everyone was beside themselves with worry.
Agneta hadn’t slept. She sat by the window, as she did every day, watching the distant hills, praying to see Caedmon come over the rise.
Leofric had gone off on another search.
Agneta hadn’t seen Lady Ascha for three days.
She fell into a doze, but suddenly became aware of a commotion in the courtyard. She hurried out, stopping abruptly at the sight of Caedmon dismounting. He was swearing at the stable boy and seemed to be having difficulty standing.
She rushed to embrace him, relief flooding her heart. “Caedmon, I’ve been worried.”
He swayed, barely able to remain upright. She stepped back. He’d sprouted an unkempt beard and his body odor was offensive.
An oxcart, rain, a splinter in my hand.
She also detected the strong smell of ale. “Caedmon? What’s happened to you?”
“Agneta, my beautiful lady Agneta,” he gushed then hiccupped and almost fell over.
She tried to steady him. “Caedmon. Are you—have you been drinking?”
He looked at her, but she could tell he wasn’t seeing her. “Do you mean am I drunk? Aye, I’m drunk. I’ve drunk. I mean, I’ve been drinkin’—for days—”
He slumped to the ground.
“Tybaut,” she shouted, her mind reeling. “Sir Caedmon is unwell, please help me get him to his chamber.”
The steward emerged from the house and ran to her aid.
Agneta suddenly noticed Lady Ascha leaning heavily on the doorpost, her hand pressed to her mouth. She scurried back into the house, avoiding Agneta’s gaze.
Tybaut and another servant had to carry Caedmon to the chamber, where they deposited him on the bed.
What will everyone think of my husband coming home like this? Especially the Brightmores.
Out of breath, the steward made a suggestion. “Perhaps an herbal tisane, milady? I’ll get Cook to see to it.”
“Thank you, but first we must get him out of these filthy clothes.”
She muttered nervously, not sure what to make of the drunken spectacle passed out on her bed. It wasn’t the passionate reunion she’d envisioned. With difficulty, they stripped him as he raved in a drunken stupor.
Such a man should not be bound.
“We need to get him into a bath, but how will we manage it?”
“I’ll get the stable boy.”
Tybaut returned in short order with a burly lad and Leofric entered with them. His voice betrayed his shock. “Godemite! It’s not the first time I’ve seen Caedmon suffer the effects of one too many ales, but I’ve never seen him like this. Where’s he been?”
“I don’t know,” Agneta murmured.
Tybaut’s wife had filled up the tub with hot water. Tybaut and the lad and Leofric picked up Caedmon with difficulty and deposited him in the hot water. He protested loudly, but Agneta soothed him. “Hush, Caedmon, hush, let me bathe you.”
“Leave us,” she whispered to the others. “He’ll be calmer if there’s just me.”
“Are you sure?” Leofric asked, looking doubtful.
She nodded and the other men left. She cleansed Caedmon’s body with the soft linen cloth.
He suddenly burst into song, but evidently couldn’t recall the words and laughed a silly laugh that set her teeth on edge. The memory of his genuine laugh rolled over her. Gradually, he calmed and let her minister to him. How would she shave off the grubby beard he’d acquired?
He liked me to shave him in the infirmary.
It would have to wait until he’d sobered. Her mind was in turmoil. She couldn’t imagine what had happened to cause this change in his behavior. He passed out in the tub and she had to call Tybaut and Leofric to help her get him out and back to bed. His wet body was more difficult to manhandle, especially with Leofric’s damaged hand.
She sent them away with her embarrassed thanks and set about drying his body, the beautiful body she loved, the body that had given her such intense pleasure. She blotted him dry, tears welling as she lovingly dabbed the scar on his thigh. She was careful not to disturb his manhood curled in its black nest, not wanting to arouse him and have him try to make love to her in this condition.
“Caedmon, what has happened to you? Where have you been?” she whispered.
“I’m nothing, Agneta, nothing.” He said it so quietly she barely heard it.
“What do you mean? You’re everything to me.”
“I’m less than nothing,” he murmured before lapsing back into a stupor.
He woke at dawn and vomited into the chamber pot. She wiped his face with a wet cloth and he fell back to sleep. How could she help him if she didn’t know what had happened? Two hours later he vomited again and then sat on the edge of the bed for another hour staring at his feet, his head in his hands.
“Caedmon?” she ventured, coming to sit beside him and putting her arm around his shoulders.
“Leave me be, woman,” he shouted, pushing her away. “Leave me be.” He slumped back down on the bed, his knees clasped to his belly.
She was angry now. She’d done nothing to deserve being pushed away. She jumped to her feet. “Caedmon stop it! Stop this! You’re not a drunkard. Why are you behaving this way? Don’t push me away. You’re hurting me.”
He became instantly contrite and sat up. “Agneta, my beautiful Agneta. I don’t want to hurt you. But I’m not the man you married. I’m nothing.”
She clenched her fists, longing to touch him, to bring comfort, but afraid. “Stop saying that.”
He continued to sit on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.
“Did you meet the earl? Did he say something to bring on this—this state you are in? I demand you tell me. You’re making me afraid.”
He slowly raised his head and looked at her, his eyes red rimmed. “Oh, aye. I met the earl. And surprise, surprise. It turns out I’m the man’s bastard son. Me, the proud Caedmon Brice Woolgar, son of a martyr of Hastings, I’m the by-blow of a Norman pig.”
Agneta’s mouth fell open. She frowned and shook her head. “I don’t understand. How can you be his son?”
“It seems my wonderful, caring mother was a strumpet who bedded the Norman dog before her husband’s grave had grown cold. I’ll send her to a nunnery.”
“Not so loud,” Agneta gasped, looking anxiously at the door. “Your mother’s not—”
He tried unsuccessfully to stand. “Enough! Bring me some ale.”
Agneta clenched her hands together. “No more ale. You’ve had enough.”
He managed to get to his feet and thumped his chest with his fist. “I’ll be the person who decides that. I may be the bastard of Norman filth, but I’m still the master here—oh, no—that’s not true is it—I’m not the master here—I don’t have the right to this manor—it probably belongs rightfully to some other legitimate Woolgar relative.”
“Caedmon, stop,” she pleaded desperately as he swayed. He walked unsteadily to the armoire, shoved back the curtain and with difficulty donned the clothing he grabbed from within. She was afraid to offer assistance.
“Agneta, it’s over. I’m a dead man, a man without honor. I’ve lost everything important to me. I can’t be your husband. I don’t have the right.”
He staggered out of the chamber, thundered down the stairs and then she heard the front door slam.
“No, Caedmon,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “You haven’t lost everything. I’m still here.” What to say to make him stay? She cried herself to sleep alone in their bed.
Caedmon slowly came to his senses in Abbot’s stall. What in the name of all the saints was he to do? His heart ached at the possibility of losing his beautiful wife, but he had nothing to offer her now. He stripped to the waist, doused his head in the horse trough and splashed the icy water over his body.
When he looked up, his mother stood in front of him, swaying nervously, her fists clenched.
Leofric stood a few paces behind.
“Strumpet,” he snarled.
She winced.
Leofric’s good hand went to the hilt of his dagger.
She took a step closer. “Caedmon—”
“Silence. Go to your chamber.” He splashed water from the trough at her.
She gazed down at her soaked gown in shock.
Leofric rushed to support her as she swayed.
“Caedmon—” Leofric tried, his eyes burning.
“Be gone, all of you. Get out of my sight,” he shouted, catching a glimpse of the Brightmore sisters peering nervously through the partly open front door. “And get those interfering hags out of my sight too.”
His mother gasped and with a backward glance of disbelief at Caedmon, let Leofric assist her as she fled, sobbing.
Caedmon slowly climbed to his own chamber and tapped lightly. Hearing no invitation to enter, he opened the door and crept inside. Agneta was still asleep, amid a tumble of disheveled bed linens. He found a clean shirt, dragged it over his head and moved silently to the bed, where he sat down, trying not to disturb her, but wanting to watch her in repose.
Her eyelids fluttered open. “Caedmon,” she whispered, reaching out her hand. “You’ve come back to me.”
He shook his head. “No, Agneta. I can’t be with you. I’m not worthy of you.”
She sat up beside him, and his manhood swelled as her thigh touched his, adding to his misery. He edged away.
She put her hand on his thigh. “Caedmon, please don’t shut me out. I’m your wife. I’ll decide if you’re worthy or not.”
He lifted her hand, kissed her fingertips and put her hand back in her lap. “Agneta, I’m no longer the man I was. I’m less than nothing. I am in fact the embodiment of all I’ve despised my whole life. And from the look on my true father’s face when he saw me, I would venture to guess he’s as ashamed of me as I am of him.”
Agneta took hold of his head in both hands and turned his face to her. “Caedmon, you’re a gentle, noble and honest knight. You must find it in your heart to forgive what has happened.”
“Forgive,” he shouted, leaping to his feet. “You speak to me of forgiveness and yet you can’t forgive me my part in the raid on Bolton.”
Agneta flushed. “It’s true,” she conceded. “We both need to find the path to forgiveness. But we must help each other to find peace. I’ve already—”
“I’ll never find peace here in this manor house. I believed it my birthright, but it’s not. I must leave.”
“Then I’ll go with you.”
“No,” he shouted. “I don’t know where I’m going, or what I’ll do. I plan to sell my sword to some lord who has need of it. That’s no life for a woman. There’s no reason you can’t stay here and enjoy the security of the income of this house.”
“I have no wish to live here without you,” she whispered, lowering her eyes to the floor.
He turned and left, his heart breaking.
Leofric returned to the manor house with news that Caedmon was seen regularly in Ruyton, drinking and carousing, causing disturbances. He came back to the house at night, stumbling into the stables and nothing Leofric could say to him seemed to make any impression.
Agneta was distraught, at a loss.
Lady Ascha refused to leave her room and could be heard sobbing.
The Brightmores made themselves scarce.
Agneta wondered if she should appeal to the earl, but what would she say? Caedmon would be angry. The decision was taken out of her hands when Tybaut told her he would have to report the situation to Ellesmere.
“It’s my duty, my lady. Sir Caedmon is neglecting the estate. If he keeps on squandering the money from the rents on—”
She held up her hand. “Do what you must, Tybaut. You have the best interests of the manor at heart. I myself—”
While he might have his suspicions, the steward wasn’t aware of the real reason for her husband’s behavior and must be perplexed by it. It disturbed her to see the effects his loathing was having on Caedmon. She wondered about the changes her own hatreds and resentments had wrought in her.
Tybaut journeyed to Ellesmere and sought an interview. He explained what had been happening at Shelfhoc. Ram listened attentively and thanked the nervous steward, assuring him he would travel to Ruyton, then went to find Mabelle.
She was sewing with some of her ladie
s.
He dismissed them.
She rose to greet him, her face lined with worry.
He told her of Tybaut’s news. “I intend to ride to Ruyton to face Caedmon, something I should have done sooner, but I want to be sure you approve of this decision.”
They’d already made the determination together that they would endow Caedmon with three of the manor houses in Sussex and that he would inherit three more on Ram’s death. The properties they’d chosen were lucrative estates which would ensure a prosperous future for Caedmon and his family.
Mabelle drew him down into a chair and sat opposite him. “Of course you must go.”
He rode with a company of his men-at-arms. As they entered the courtyard of her home, Agneta came out. “My lord earl,” she croaked, curtseying.
Ram dismounted. “You know who I am?”
She looked up at him. “My lord, your face—is Caedmon’s face.”
Caedmon had married a beautiful woman, and Ram sorrowed for the pain she suffered. He took her by the hand and bade her rise. “Lady Agneta, you must not bow to me. I’m the cause of your grief. You’re the wife of my son, a daughter to me. Where is Caedmon?”
She rose, gripping his hand. “He’s probably gone to Ruyton. I don’t know when he’ll return. It’s difficult these days.”
“Tybaut has told me of the problems. I’m here to try to resolve some of them. May I enter and tell you of the circumstances that have brought us to this point?”
He kept hold of her hand, sensing she needed his reassurance. They entered the house and Ram shared with her the story of his liaison with Caedmon’s mother. It felt strange to be back where it had all begun.
“My wife, Mabelle, has forgiven me and my children have accepted that Caedmon is their half-brother. I didn’t know of his existence until he came to Ellesmere, but he’s my son and I want to recognize him as such.”
She turned to face him. “But he’s angry,” she whispered. “Forgive me, but he despises Normans.”