Chapter Nineteen
CHAPTER NINETEEN
T wo days.
Two days since Monsignor Carrick had made his decision. Two days of trying to keep Darien from living up to the moniker of Darien the Destroyer. He was bent on murder, and the only thing keeping the man in check was being shut up in his wife’s chamber, being with her every moment of the day. Basking in her presence, hearing every breath she took.
It was the only way to keep him from going on a rampage.
Two long, tense days of hell.
But he tried not to bring that hell into his wife’s small bower. That was a place of comfort, where the world couldn’t touch them, and even now he sat in the window, watching the activity below, pondering their next move as Eventide sat near the hearth, finishing the blue dress she’d worn at their wedding.
The day was starting to cloud over, and those in the ward were moving things inside so they wouldn’t get wet with the coming storm. Horses in the corral were being brushed down and herded inside the stable. Growing bored with the view, Darien turned inside, watching Eventide embroider tiny silver honeybees on the hem of the bell sleeves of the dress. She seemed quiet and peaceful, but he knew the truth. She was anything but peaceful. Her sister was trying to ruin her happiness, and the Eventide he knew wasn’t going to stand for it much longer. She was biding her time, or so he thought.
But he hated the thought of her being so unhappy.
She must have sensed that he was looking at her because she glanced up, smiling at him when their eyes met. He smiled weakly in return.
“That garment will be magnificent for Robbie Stewart’s table,” he said.
“Oh?” she said, lifting up a sleeve. “Do ye think so?”
“I do.”
She was still looking at the sleeve. “May I ask ye a question?” she said after a moment.
“Anything.”
“Why can’t we simply run away?”
There it was, the hell he’d been trying to keep out of the chamber. The status of their daily lives. As he knew, she’d been stewing on it, the truth behind her peaceful facade.
He could only answer her honestly.
“I’ve thought about it,” he admitted. “But there is a problem with that.”
“What problem?”
He shrugged. “Ye’d be running from yer family and the church would probably punish them for yer actions,” he said. “Same with mine, only my da hates the church, so he wouldna care, but there’s the matter of my running away tae avoid the church’s judgment—do ye think I could go back tae Robbie’s court after that? His council is full of priests. I couldna hide from them, so I’d have tae give up everything I’ve worked for. Everything that would give us a stable life. Evie, I dunna want tae hide in shame. I want tae live in pride—the pride of being married tae the woman I love, a great woman. Ye dunna deserve tae be hidden away.”
He was flattering her and giving her an unhappy answer at the same time. “Then what do we do if they choose tae annul our marriage?”
He came away from the window. “If the bishop tries, I’ll take it tae the pope,” he said firmly. “I’ll take ye on a lovely journey tae Rome and we’ll see the pope. Evie, I’ll not let sexless, frigid men make a decision for our lives. We’ve done nothing wrong.”
She nodded. Then she burst into quiet tears. With a sigh of genuine sorrow, he went to her and knelt down, putting his arms around her.
“Dunna weep, my love,” he murmured, his cheek against hers. “We will be victorious in the end, but yer sister has made this very difficult. She’ll not win, Evie, I swear it.”
Eventide didn’t say anything, mostly because she’d heard the argument before. Many times. Darien seemed convinced that they would triumph, eventually, but she wasn’t so sure. Emelia had made it difficult for them, indeed. She hadn’t even spoken to the woman since she returned. Her father had visited, and so had Lares and Mabel, but no Athole and no Emelia. Mabel, in fact, was more upset than anyone about the situation, and she hugged Eventide for a very long time each time she saw her, promising that all would be well in the end.
Eventide truly wanted to believe it.
But she couldn’t.
“What happens if no one in Rome listens tae us?” she said, sniffling. “What happens if they declare yer marriage contract with Emelia valid? What then?”
He grunted softly. “ Then we’ll run away,” he said. “But only as a last resort. Evie, one way or the other, we’ll remain married. No one is going tae take that away from us, least of all yer sister.”
He couldn’t bring himself to say Emelia’s name. He didn’t want to bring the poison she perpetuated into the very air he breathed. He, too, had a genuine fear that the church was going to side with Emelia, and if that was the case, he had no problem running. He’d run as far and fast as he could and take Eventide with him. His father had friends in France. They had kin in the House of de Wolfe, although that was too close to Scotland for his taste. Too easy for ecclesiastical guards to get to him. The diocese of St. Andrews had their own army, and he wanted to stay away from them, but when or if they fled, Castle Questing, seat of the House of de Wolfe, would be his first stop. They knew everyone in England and could send him someplace where he could be safe, serving as a warrior and making a living.
But hopefully he wouldn’t have to go that route. As he pondered the future, Eventide slipped her hand into his.
“I am sorry for Emelia,” she said. “She has always been selfish, but this goes beyond even what I thought she was capable of. I dunna even think it’s the fact that she simply wants ye. I think it’s the fact that she’s being denied, and she has never accepted denial. The entire world agrees with her wants and she’s satisfied, so the battle for ye… It’s because I have ye. And she would consider it a victory over me.”
Darien didn’t want to agree with her or say anything about Emelia because he would only end up raging and insulting the woman, and he truly didn’t want to waste his time on her. There was no point. Leaning over, he kissed Eventide on the temple.
“I could try tae dissuade her,” he said. “Tell her tae her face what I think of her.”
Eventide shook her head. “Dunna do it,” she said. “She’d take it as a challenge, so ye’d be wasting yer breath.”
He already knew that, but he was trying to show her how willing he was to take a stand. He knew it would probably inflame Emelia, and not in a good way, but he was willing to try. He took Eventide’s hand and kissed it, trying to comfort her, feeling her anguish along with his own. Darien had always been rather empathetic when it came to the pain of others, and he felt everything that Eventide was feeling.
The sadness, the devastation, the fear.
It was heartbreaking in so many ways.
A knock on the door caught their attention. As Eventide quickly wiped her tears away, Darien stood up and went to the door. He opened the panel to find Estevan standing there.
“Brother,” Estevan greeted him, seeing Eventide through the open door and nodding at her. But his focus returned to Darien. “The monsignor wants to speak with ye. Will ye come?”
Darien hadn’t spoken to the priest for two days. He was hoping he wouldn’t have to, maybe ever again. “Why?” he said. “What does he want?”
Estevan shook his head. “He dinna say,” he said. “But Da and Fergus are with him, too. I’m sure he wants tae speak with ye about the trip tae St. Andrews.”
Darien sighed heavily, turning to look at Eventide. “I’ll be back,” he said. “Shall I send anything up tae ye? Food? Drink?”
She shook her head. “Nay, thank ye,” she said. “Estevan, where is yer mother?”
Estevan pointed to the floor above. “She was trying tae force yer mother out of her chamber earlier,” he said. “But I dunna know where she is now. Shall I send her tae ye?”
Eventide nodded. “If it is not too much trouble.”
“Ye know she’ll fly tae yer side, lass.”
Eventide smiled. She genuinely liked Estevan and was coming to know, and like, the other brothers as well. Since she didn’t have any brothers herself, becoming acquainted with Darien’s had been an eye-opening experience.
Wonderful, but eye-opening.
“Stop flirting with my wife,” Darien said to his brother, smacking him on the sternum when he returned Eventide’s smile. “I’ve warned ye about that.”
Estevan grunted with the force of the minor blow, rubbing the spot and chuckling as he followed Darien down the stairs. Still grinning, Eventide stood up and closed the door, going back to her garment. It gave her something to focus on other than the turmoil her life had become. She didn’t even want to think about why the monsignor had summoned Darien, but she could guess.
Perhaps their time together was growing even shorter than she’d hoped.
But she continued focusing on the dress, carefully stitching those little bees, as the sun reached its zenith. More clouds were rolling in, and she worked for another hour or so before finally putting the dress down, standing up to stretch her legs as she walked over to the window seat and peered at the activity in the ward. The Firth of Cromarty was spread out to the south, the sea to the east, and the hills of the Highlands to the west and north. She could see them in the distance, the grayish-green hue, darker now that the clouds were overhead. The smell of rain was in the air. She was thinking of going down to the kitchens and procuring something to eat when she heard noise in Emelia’s chamber.
Someone was moving around inside.
Curious, she went over to the adjoining door, which she now kept bolted, and listened. She could hear her mother’s voice and, soon enough, also heard Emelia’s. Given that she’d stayed away from her sister since the woman’s return, she hadn’t yet had the chance to talk to her.
But that was about to change with this unexpected opportunity.
Unbolting the door, she shoved it open.
Athole and Emelia looked at her in surprise. There was a satchel on the bed, and it was clear they were going to pack it.
Perhaps for Emelia to go to St. Andrews with Darien and the priest.
That realization didn’t sit well with Eventide.
“Where do ye think ye’re going?” she asked.
Nervously, Emelia faced her. She’d been glad that she hadn’t been in contact with her sister since her return because what she needed to do would be easier if she didn’t have to see Eventide’s sad face. Staying away from her sister dehumanized the toll of her efforts. But now, she found herself looking at Eventide head-on and could see that her sister did not look pleased.
Not that she’d expected her to.
“Evie,” she said somewhat hesitantly, “I… I know ye’re upset with me and I understand that, but ye have tae believe me when I tell ye what happened. I was abducted and then found my way back. Thoughts of Darien are the only thing that kept me alive. Tae come home and find him attached tae ye is—”
“He’s not merely attached,” Eventide interrupted, coming into the room. Her gaze was riveted to her sister. “He’s my husband. He loves me and I love him. He will never love ye, Emelia. He will never care for ye. And ye were never abducted, so stop telling me that lie. Ye ran away with Luke because he belonged tae me. And now that Darien belongs tae me, ye want tae take him, too. This is about taking men away from me and nothing more.”
Athole tried to put herself between her daughters. “Evie,” she said, “go back intae yer room. This doesna concern ye.”
Eventide looked at her mother. “And ye’re dead tae me,” she said calmly. “For all of the times ye ignored me, for all of the times ye took Emelia’s word over mine, for all of the apathy ye showed me, and for supporting Emelia in this matter over me, know that ye’re dead tae me. I consider my mother Mabel dun Tarh. Not ye. So dunna talk tae me ever again.”
Athole, weak in spirit and in heart, was taken aback by these words. She gasped, recoiling in horror, and quickly ran out of the chamber. That was normal behavior for their mother, an insipid woman who had no strength in any given situation. Eventide didn’t give her a second thought as she returned her attention to Emelia.
There was pure venom in her eyes.
“Ye’ll never have him,” she said in a low, threatening voice. “Darien is my husband. He will never be yers. This is one thing ye canna take from me, so I’m telling ye tae stop this right now. Go down tae Monsignor Carrick and tell him ye withdraw yer protest.”
Emelia was hardening. “Why would I do that?” she said. “Ye may have married him, Evie, but not for long.”
Eventide shook her head in disgust. “Ye dunna love him,” she said. “There are a thousand other men ye could have, so why Darien? He’s not even an heir. He can bring nothing tae ye.”
Emelia had an answer for it, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to give it. So she simply shrugged. “We had a contract.”
“And ye violated that when ye ran away with Luke,” Eventide said. “And what ye did was not on a whim, either. How long had ye been planning it?”
“I dinna plan it.”
“Then where is the satchel that Mother bought ye when we went tae Carlisle last year?” Eventide said. “Did ye think I never noticed that it was missing? When everyone was searching for ye on the day ye disappeared, I noticed it was missing from yer wardrobe. So, ye’d been planning tae run away with Luke. The missing satchel is proof ye weren’t abducted.”
Emelia seemed to lose some of her hardness at the realization that her sister was countering her lies—and quite ably. “It’s not proof of anything,” she said. “The satchel could be anywhere. I could have loaned it tae someone.”
“Who?” Eventide said. “Ye havena any friends. No decent woman will be associated with the likes of ye, so who would ye loan it tae? More importantly, we’ve not had a visitor here at Blackrock since ye purchased it in Carlisle, so no one walked off with it. Where is the satchel, Emelia?”
Emelia stood her ground. “I dunna know what ye’re talking about.”
Eventide was used to the stubbornness, the evasiveness. She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “I dinna tell Darien or Da,” she said. “No one knows but me. I dinna tell them because at the time I noticed the missing bag, it was confirmation that ye’d run away and I dinna want Da tae double his efforts tae bring ye back. If he knew ye were with Luke, then it would make him work harder at trying tae find ye. Without proof, he only assumed ye ran away. He dinna truly know. But now ye return with this tale of abduction simply tae force Darien intae marriage, and I willna let ye. The satchel is the proof that ye lied.”
Emelia was losing ground quickly. “Ye’re mad!” she said. “Ye canna prove anything!”
“I can and I will,” she said. “Emelia, ye’re the only person who can stop this action with the church. Ye started it and ye must end it. If ye dunna go tae the monsignor and tell him that ye withdraw yer protest, then I’ll tell him about the satchel. I’ll tell everyone and your web of lies will collapse. But I’m giving ye a chance tae make this right.”
Emelia resorted to bullying, like she always did with Eventide. “Nay, ye willna tell,” she said. “Ye willna risk Da’s wrath because ye withheld that information. He’ll be furious with ye.”
Eventide shrugged. “He’ll be angrier at ye,” she said. “I’ll also tell them that ye confessed tae running off with Luke. It’ll be your word against mine, but by that time, no one will know who’s telling the truth and who isn’t. The chance the monsignor disbelieves ye will be great.”
That was probably true. If Eventide was willing to do all that to save her marriage, then it would be a battle. A big one. Emelia had never had to battle her sister before.
But she had to now.
And Eventide was a clever opponent.
“He’ll not disbelieve me,” Emelia said, fighting down her fear. “I’ve been wronged and he knows it.”
Eventide shook her head. “Do ye think the man wants tae look like a fool in front of his superiors, bringing this situation tae them when he doesna even know who is telling the truth?” she said. “He would look daft. He willna risk it.”
She was right, and they both knew it. Emelia could feel her control slipping away, stolen by her sister. Eventide had never been a factor in anything Emelia had done because she’d always had the power. The control. But now, Eventide had the control because of that damnable satchel. Her father knew that Emelia had such a satchel, and if she couldn’t produce it, or give a reasonable explanation as to why it was missing, then doubt would be cast over her entire story.
She couldn’t let her sister do that to her.
She had to reclaim control.
Emelia launched herself at Eventide, catching the woman off guard. Eventide tried to get away from her but tripped over a chair, and they both fell to the ground. Eventide hit her head on the floor, which stunned her, giving Emelia time to wrap her hands around her throat.
The fight was on.
“I’ll kill ye,” Emelia said, squeezing Eventide’s neck. “I’ll kill ye and marry Darien and fuck him every night of his life until memories of ye are wiped from his mind. I’ll make it so ye never existed!”
Eventide was shorter than her sister, but she was stronger. Emelia had her in a bad position, but she managed to poke the woman in the eye with a finger. As Emelia faltered, Eventide took her fist and shoved it into her sister’s face as hard as she could. Emelia screamed and sat up, taking her weight off Eventide, as a figure suddenly appeared in the adjoining doorway. Before Eventide could react, someone had Emelia by the hair and yanked her back with such force that Emelia screamed in agony.
Eventide looked up to see Mabel, like an avenging angel.
And the woman was ready for battle.
“You vile creature,” Mabel spat, her right hand wrapped up in Emelia’s hair. “What were you trying to do to her? Tell me this instant or I’ll pull your hair from your scalp!”
“Nay, m’lady!” Emelia cried, her hands on her head where Mabel was pulling. “She… she attacked me first! I was defending myself!”
Eventide rubbed her neck as she stood up. “She lunged at me and tried tae strangle me,” she said, showing Mabel the marks on her neck. “I told her that I knew her story about being abducted was a lie because her favorite satchel is missing. I noticed it from the first but dinna tell anyone. I thought if I told her that I knew, she’d withdraw her protest. But she tried tae kill me because I know the missing satchel proves she ran away and wasna abducted.”
Mabel’s jaw tightened as she listened to the explanation. “Is that true?” she said, yanking Emelia’s head again. “Tell me the truth or I’ll start pulling hair out, strand by strand. No more lies, Emelia. Tell me the truth immediately.”
Emelia was struggling, unwilling to answer, so Mabel did what she said she was going to do—she took a strand of hair and yanked it out. Emelia yelped. Mabel pulled out another and another until Emelia was trying to slap her hands away.
“Stop!” she cried. “Stop at once!”
“Not until you tell me the truth, young lady.”
Emelia started kicking now, trying to fight Mabel. A balled fist made contact with Mabel’s left arm. Eventide intervened, slapping her sister across the face so hard that Emelia came to a halt simply because she was stunned by the force of the blow. To make sure she wouldn’t try to strike Mabel again, Eventide slapped her a second time, as hard as she could, and Emelia stopped struggling altogether.
She just sat there and wept.
“Well,” Mabel said, blowing errant hair out of her face after the tussle died down, “though I’m not an advocate for beating a woman, in this case, I will make an exception. Your sister needs it badly. But if she is going to tell the truth, then I want everyone to hear it. We’ll take her down to the solar, where the men are gathering. Evie, I suggest you tell them about the missing satchel immediately. They must know.”
Eventide nodded. Was it actually possible they were close to a confession? Thank God Mabel had come in when she had. Together, they pulled Emelia to her feet.
It was a tribulation getting her down the stairs, however. Emelia tried to dig in, to grab the walls, anything to prevent them from taking her to the solar, but in the end, they managed to get her down the stairs. They were in the entry now, making enough noise that Darien and Fergus came out of the solar to see what the fuss was about. They saw both Mabel and Eventide dragging Emelia toward them, and the girl was in hysterics.
“Da!” she cried. “Tell them tae release me! Please!”
Fergus knew better than to make that demand, especially of Lady Torridon. But he was understandably concerned.
“M’lady?” he said timidly. “What is happening?”
Eventide let her sister go, but Mabel didn’t. She was furious with the lies, furious with what the woman had done to her son, so she wasn’t going to ease up. She still held Emelia by the hair, forcing her to her knees as Darien and now Lares, in the solar doorway, watched in astonishment.
“Evie,” Mabel said calmly, “tell them what you told me. No more secrets, please.”
Eventide looked at her husband, somewhat hesitantly, before finally looking at her father. “I have something tae tell ye,” she said. “When we were searching for Emelia on the day she vanished, I noticed that she had taken a satchel out of her wardrobe. The one Mother purchased for her in Carlisle. I dinna tell ye because… because I dinna want her back. I thought that if I told ye, then it would confirm she ran away with Luke and ye’d try harder tae find her. But I dinna want ye tae, so I dinna tell ye. I’m sorry, Father. And I’m sorry tae ye, Darien. I should have told ye what I saw.”
Fergus was astonished. He looked at Emelia. “Then ye did run off with him,” he said. “Ye took yer satchel and ye ran. He dinna abduct ye!”
Emelia was on her knees, but she still had fight left in her. “I dunna know about the satchel,” she insisted. “Mayhap it was lost. Or mayhap I gave it tae someone. The fact that it’s missing proves nothing. Now, tell Lady Torridon tae let me go or I’ll break her hand!”
She reached up and began beating on the hand that Mabel had wound in her hair, but Mabel simply yanked, hard, and that stilled her quickly. The men in the doorway winced as Mabel tugged again for good measure, bringing Emelia to tears.
Monsignor Carrick had heard the commotion and stepped out of the solar. The ruthless and righteous Lady Torridon had Emelia by the hair, and the young woman was trapped. But he’d heard the confession about the missing satchel and Emelia’s denial.
“Lady Torridon,” he said evenly, “would you mind releasing her?”
Mabel shook her head. “Not until she confesses to her lies,” she said. “Monsignor, surely you know you’ve been taken in by a prevaricator. Emelia Moriston makes up things to suit her purposes. She ran away with Eventide’s betrothed and then, when she tired of him, returned with a story of abduction and demanded to marry my son. Understand that she violated the contract first when she ran off with Luke Cannich.”
“I wanted her money and titles. And that’s why we ran.”
The voice came from the entry door. In all of the commotion, no one had seen a figure come up the stairs and stand in the partially open doorway. All eyes turned, with shock, to see the very man in question stepping into the foyer.
A vision back from the dead.