Chapter 11 #5
His skin prickled, coated in a cooling sheen of sweat.
Now his pulse was calming and his hunger satiated – at least, in this moment – he could truly appreciate the finery he found himself enjoying.
The sheets were absurdly soft, the bed topped with a feather tick.
He hadn’t experienced such luxuries in years; the last time he slept in a bed this fine was the night before they left his father’s keep for France.
If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine they were there again, locked in a warm – if somewhat sweaty – embrace beneath the sheets of Olly’s bed, waiting for dawn to rise.
So much had changed since then. He’d carried around the hatred for so long. Now he realised it was unwarranted, he didn’t know what to do with it. He’d cheated, somehow, to end up back in this familiar position with the worst consequence only a few, heated words and an aborted attempt at escape.
Ash started to brush his fingers slowly up and down Olly’s arm. He seemed unkeen to let go, and Olly supposed he could not blame him; he didn’t want to let go either, lest the world conspire to part them again.
He heard Ash sigh, the sound reverberating through his chest.
‘I wish you had come to find me,’ Ash said.
Now, in the low light with fresh knowledge of all that had happened since the battle, Olly agreed with him.
‘I, too,’ he said. ‘But I thought you had abandoned me. I thought you hated me. And besides, if I had come to find you, it would have been to entangle myself in a scandal. Last I heard of you, half the southern counties were searching for your brother, claiming he had kidnapped or murdered some earl’s son. ’
Ash’s hand went still on his arm. ‘… Oh.’
‘Regardless,’ Olly spoke quickly, needing to get it out. ‘When our paths do cross, I hear you are to be wed?’
‘I know it is difficult,’ Ash said. ‘But it is not a … a love match. It is …’ he huffed. ‘Lord above, it is business. Agnes needs a husband, and I need a wife. I have dragged my feet for far too long. The family – the name – needs an heir.’
‘But I thought Raff—’
‘You said yourself he was embroiled in scandal. He nearly died as a result of it. The mark against his name would be enough to put off many brides, but the wounds … and, well …’ Ash hesitated. ‘He is no longer the guarantee for an heir he once was.’
‘Oh.’ Olly was taken aback. He had never met Raff – not before this day – but Ash had often spoken of him. ‘I am sorry, is he—’
‘He is well.’ Ash laughed. ‘He is better than he has been in years. But he isn’t the prize he once was, unless there is a woman out there who is seeking a scandalous cripple.
And besides, I would not force him to—’ He stopped, composing himself.
‘He has reasons not to wed. And he has done too much for me since my return. I owe him more than anyone else.’
‘And who … who was the man? The tall one with the—’ Olly sat up and gestured around his head with his fingers, playing on the man’s curls. ‘Who stopped me?’
‘Penn?’ Ash said, only half listening. ‘He’s our hostage.’
Olly nearly swallowed his own tongue. ‘What?’
‘God, that is a long story,’ Ash said. ‘You mentioned the scandal we found ourselves in? He is to do with that, and his father … It is complicated.’
That sounded right. Olly had only caught only the barest details of the story on his travels, any truth to the matter watered down by gossip and rumour. Whatever it was must have been horrific, to leave Raff so wounded and the man involved kept as a prisoner.
‘But what about your family?’ Ash asked, breaking through his thoughts. ‘Why did you not return to them?’
‘And face the same reception I feared to face with you?’ Olly sighed.
‘They had even greater reason to refuse to pay my ransom. After Father and Hal died out there, I assumed the others blamed me for their deaths, that leaving me to rot was their punishment. I did seek them out, when I returned. Just to see. Mother died a short while ago, and after Father’s death the title had passed to Thomas.
You remember him? And then … then he died, less than a year later.
Trampled by his own horse, stupid bastard.
He had no children, so the title passed to Peter.
He was a poor brother but … but he makes a good lord, from what I can tell. ’
‘Why not go back to him, then?’
Olly’s heart was stony in his chest.
‘I could not. Not without Father. Not like this. They did not need me. And they did not want me, either. I thought …’
‘The ransoms.’
‘Exactly. I couldn’t.’
‘But now you know the truth … can’t you go back?’
‘No, Ash.’
‘But you could still—’
‘Ash!’
Ash’s jaw snapped shut.
‘I cannot,’ Olly said slowly. ‘I could not then. It is too late now.’ He took a long, low breath. His voice quivered. ‘Please, Ash. My Ashel. Do not make me talk about them. Please.’
‘Apologies.’ Ash pulled him down, squeezing him tighter. ‘I … I know it was hard, with them. Perhaps in the future … ?’
Olly sniffed against his chest. ‘Perhaps.’
‘You have time to decide,’ Ash said. ‘I swear.’
Olly’s grip slackened. Time?
‘Olly?’
Olly unhooked his arms from around Ash’s chest, looking up at him. ‘I have time? Here?’
Ash swallowed. ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Assuming … that is, do you want to stay? With me?’
Could he stay? Could he stay, with Ash on the cusp of marriage?
But this was all he had wanted, since returning from France. Not Ash – he had never even allowed himself to want that, knowing that Ash had abandoned him. But a home. Safety. Safety with someone who cared for him.
‘… Can I?’ he said at last. ‘What about Agnes?’
‘I will need to talk to her,’ Ash said. ‘I cannot lie to her. But we have an arrangement. She may understand.’
It all seemed too grand a promise to be true.
‘She will understand that her husband is being fucked by another man?’ he said, instead of anything more vulnerable.
Ash batted at him with a laugh. ‘Perhaps we do not need to tell her in quite so much detail?’
Olly gave him an incredulous look. ‘You really do have an odd arrangement.’
‘I am odd. She, too, although she hides it better. Although in truth, after this … I half expect she will leave. Any sensible woman would.’
‘Any sensible man would tell me to leave, Ash. Tell me you understand that. You risk so much by my being here. If I were to go—’
‘No,’ Ash said. ‘No. I will not just give up on this. On you.’
He looked deeply torn. An inner war, one to which Olly was not privy.
A deep, cruel part of him hoped that Agnes would leave, keen not to be stained with Ash’s sin, disgusted and insulted.
But Ash looked genuinely saddened at the idea.
Olly wondered what had come to pass in his absence: if the union, which Ash claimed was a mere arrangement, was somewhat more than that.
But Ash was holding him tight, rubbing his hand up and down his back, clinging to him. Ash had promised he could stay. Olly had to hold on to that. He lowered himself back down to rest against Ash’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.
Warm and comfortable, he could not help but feel guilty.
He needed to get a message to Pepper to let him know he was safe.
John would hear soon enough that the man he had sent Olly to kill was alive and well.
He would be furious, and Pepper would no doubt panic.
Besides that, if Ash intended to allow Olly to stay, it meant that he had found what he had sought after anyway: safety.
He could encourage Pepper to join him at Dunlyn.
‘There are things I must do,’ Olly said at last. ‘I need to send word to my friend.’
‘Your friend?’
Olly took a moment to think, before continuing. ‘We worked together, for a while. He is like— no, damn it, he is my brother, in all but blood. He will be worried if he does not hear from me. But he cannot read more than a few words, and—’
‘We can send a messenger. Someone trustworthy. At least to the next city, and it can pass on from there. What would you tell him?’
A message could pass over several pairs of lips before even reaching the town: it would need to be short enough to be memorable, yet vague enough that it should not damn either of them were the wrong person to hear it.
Something simple, then. I am safe. Come to Dunlyn. Safer than even that, he could give Pepper the name of the closest town and instruct him to journey there. Finding someone to watch for him then direct him to Dunlyn would be easy.
‘Where is the nearest town?’
‘Skeldale.’
‘I could send him there. Tell him to find an innkeeper, or a bailiff, or … or anyone. Have someone keep watch for him and send him to Dunlyn. But only if you are sure.’ Olly sat up, so he could see Ash’s face. ‘Only if you do not wish me to leave.’
‘Olly.’ Ash mirrored him, reaching out to cup his face. ‘Never. I will not let you go again.’
He had to believe it. He had to hold it in his heart. Olly nodded, unable to speak. Ash’s expression drifted.
‘I still feel as if this isn’t real,’ he said. ‘For you to attempt to rob me, of all people? It is like fate. Like someone led you to me.’
Olly stilled. Ash did not know how correct his words were. Part of him wanted to keep it secret, never force Ash to know the truth. But he would not be able to protect Ash from that forever.
He sat up. ‘Ash … someone did lead me to you.’
Ash frowned. ‘What?’
‘It was not just luck. You were not just an easy target to rob. I was—’ He had to get it out before his resolve failed him. ‘I was hired,’ he said, quickly.
Ash was dumbfounded. ‘What?’
‘I told you I was a bandit. I have been working with a man for some time: John. He finds me work. He summoned me and he promised me riches and safety if I saw through a job for him. And I accepted. He never gave me a name, only a description, and told me where to wait … I never even realised it was you I had been sent after.’
‘But …’ Ash stuttered, ‘but who is he? Why would he want me dead?’
Olly knew he had to tell him. He wished he did not.
‘He was hired by someone else,’ Olly admitted. ‘But … I believe that will be something best discussed with your— with Agnes.’
Ash looked panicked. ‘What? Surely she did not—’
‘No!’ Olly quickly clarified. ‘Certainly, I do not believe she was involved, especially now I have spoken to you. But her family …’
A shadow passed over Ash’s face. He looked momentarily guilty – but not shocked. ‘Ah.’
‘You do not seem surprised.’
‘I am not surprised. Christ …’ Ash dragged a hand down his face, scratching at his scar. ‘They are not pleased with her choice to marry me.’
‘Are you so unpleasant?’
Ash shot him a look. Olly kissed it away.
‘I am sorry that I have to bring you this news,’ he said truthfully.
‘I suppose I should just thank God that it was you who was sent.’ Ash sighed.
‘And thank Him that I failed to kill you, too.’
Ash made a low noise: a mirthless chuckle. ‘And that, I suppose.’ He rubbed at his eyes. ‘What a mess.’
‘It is a little. I fear I only complicate matters.’
Ash gave Olly a thoughtful look, then pulled himself out the bed. He edged around the canopy and bent down to retrieve something from the floor. When he returned, he dropped it into Olly’s palm. It was his ring.
‘You do complicate matters,’ Ash said. ‘But you are entirely worth a complicated life.’
Despite it all, Olly felt drunk on it, a careless happiness he had long ago forgotten. It was easy – perhaps preferable – to pretend that the horrors of these past years were no more than nightmares. He kissed Ash again, and slid the ring onto his finger.