Chapter 29
Olly
Olly could not decide if he was stupid, or just incapable of thinking with anything other than his cock.
Likely both, he concluded, as he watched Agnes leave.
Their conversation had not truly revealed anything to him that he did not already know.
He had suspected that Agnes harboured stronger feelings for Ash for some time, and her denial – and then her sad acceptance – had only proven that.
He’d expected to be jealous, to be angry – to try and scare her off.
But he hadn’t. He’d opened his heart and from it had poured fear, his secret anguish.
He teetered, mind changing with every moment. Did he believe her insistence that she would never get between them, or did he fear her ruining what he and Ash already had?
It would have been easier were he not so terribly fond of her.
Were he not so fond of her, he would have been more inclined to see her as a villain: a witch stealing what was his. But as it was, he saw her for what she was: a little afraid, stubborn as an ass, and more concerned with Ash’s feelings than her own.
And, as his overactive imagination and treacherous prick were reminding him, she was exceedingly fine to look upon, was desperately engaging, had shoulders he could worship and was – as a final insult to his self-control – an exceptional lover.
It would have been easier were it just Ash, or just Agnes. Both of them made his head spin.
He wondered how he would behave were their roles reversed.
If it was he who loved Ash from afar, in secret.
Would he have kept that within his ribs as well, if he feared that to voice those feelings would lead to destruction?
Would he have accepted lying together – mutually slaking desire – without the rest?
Of course he would have.
It was his fondness for her that had led him to ask Pepper for a favour the day he had arrived.
Another mistake, in truth, but one he was seeing through regardless.
It was a good idea – a sinful idea, as all the best ones were – and she had sworn to him that she would not stand between Ash and himself. He had to let himself believe her.
It was no great hardship for Pepper, especially given how he had little else to do, and Olly had offered him hefty pay from Ash’s coffers – not that Ash knew about it.
The idea had come to him some time ago, but Pepper’s arrival had spurred him to act.
If anyone knew how to make the gift he intended to give, it was Pepper.
Olly had an expert on his hands and was keen to use him.
He went to seek him out a few days after he and Agnes’s conversation, to see how he was progressing.
He wanted to give Pepper as much time as possible – partly to ensure he got the job done well, but also because Olly had no desire to overburden him with demands and orders.
Pepper was his guest. He did not want him to think he had to earn his keep.
He found him in the great hall, to Olly’s surprise, playing a complicated dice game with Sara.
He watched with interest as Pepper leaned a little too close to Sara’s shoulder, pointing at the dice on the table.
Sara looked up with a smile, nibbling on her lip as she laughed at whatever it was Pepper was saying.
‘Am I interrupting?’
Pepper and Sara turned at the intrusion. Sara’s cheeks darkened.
‘I have need of you, Pep.’ He gave him a broad smile. ‘Unless you are otherwise occupied?’
Pepper shot him a dark look, but joined him regardless, promising to return to Sara once Olly was done with him.
‘You certainly seem to be settling in very well,’ Olly said, as they walked away.
‘Shut your mouth.’
Olly led him into the private side chamber from the main hall. With the castle so busy, Pepper had no sleeping chambers of his own, and Olly felt distinctly uneasy about taking him to Ash’s chambers, not least of all because there was never any guarantee who may be in there.
‘What did you wish to speak about?’ Pepper said, falling into a chair with his legs dangling over one arm.
Olly rolled his eyes. ‘Could it not be that I simply wish to ask how you are?’
Pepper snorted. ‘Go on then: ask.’
‘How are you?’
‘I am very well. Now ask me what it was you really wanted to ask. I promised Sara I would join her for dinner.’
‘It is about Agnes’s gift …’
Pepper’s eyes lit up. ‘Oh, that.’ He sat up straighter. ‘Don’t worry, Noll, I have not forgotten.’
‘And you have not told anyone?’
‘No one at all.’
‘Not even Sara?’
Pepper looked for a moment like he was about to argue, before relenting. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Not even Sara. Although …’
‘Please do not,’ Olly said, covering his ears, ‘do not tell me if you are about to describe how much she enjoys it herself.’
Pepper burst into laughter. ‘Rest assured, I would not know.’
‘Good.’
‘Yet.’
‘Oh Lord.’ Olly sighed. ‘Have you everything you need? Let me know if there is anything you require. I am sure I can find a way to procure it for you.’
‘Your earl will certainly know all the best traders.’
‘I— ah …’
If Pepper’s ears could have pricked up, they would have. ‘Oh?’
‘I have not told Ash,’ Olly said, feeling himself flush.
‘Is he not paying for it?’ Pepper said, eyebrows raised. ‘Or has he granted you a wage?’
‘You know he has not. He has simply indicated that I may spend his coin as I see fit. If I see fit.’
Pepper smirked. ‘So you are a kept man, then?’ he drawled.
‘Envy is a sin, Pep. You ought to remember that.’
Pepper shook his head. He was not incorrect: until Ash decided a role for him, Olly was wholly reliant on him. In truth, he did not mind. Such security was a relief after so long on the road, and he trusted Ash entirely. Ash would have given him anything, had he asked.
‘I am surprised you have not told him,’ Pepper said, bouncing his leg. ‘Does this mean it is a gift for them both?’
Olly’s face was burning, now. ‘And what of it?’
‘It is sweet of you,’ Pepper said, smugly. ‘Really. What a good …’ He paused, frowning. ‘Well, I do not know how to describe you. A good friend? A good husband? A good lover?’
‘Two of those things I certainly am,’ Olly said.
‘And you are the third in every way that matters,’ Pepper retorted. ‘So who is this for really?’ Pepper said. ‘Agnes? Lord Barden? You?’
‘Pep—’
‘All I am saying,’ Pepper drawled, ‘is that you are going to great lengths to ensure that the person who is, in most people’s understanding, your rival, feels comfortable. And can fuck your lover as well as you do.’
Olly choked on his own spit. ‘Excuse me?’
Pepper looked entirely innocent, as if he had passed comment on the weather.
‘Is that not what you are doing?’
‘Well, I—’
‘But I certainly don’t think you are attempting to replace yourself. No, you love him too much for that.’
‘Pepper.’
‘And I think – although I know you do not want to hear this – you love her too much for that too.’
Olly got to his feet. ‘That is not true.’
‘You know, I have never seen you in love,’ Pepper said, as if nothing were amiss. ‘I have seen you in lust … but I’ve never seen you give your heart away. It must be hard, giving it to two people.’
‘That is not what I am doing.’
Pepper raised his eyebrows. ‘Is it not?’
‘No. I—’ Olly took a swift step back. ‘This conversation is over.’
He reached the door as Pepper called after him: ‘So is that to say you wish me to stop work on Agnes’s gift?’
Olly stopped with his hand resting against the doorframe. ‘No.’
And then he strode away.
Pepper’s words nagged at him over the next few days.
He found himself shrinking away – from Ash, from Agnes, from the life they had tentatively built around each other.
When he looked at Agnes across the hall, when he saw her lean against Ash as they walked, when he watched her curled against the sheets of Ash’s bed – of their bed – in deep sleep, he thought of Pepper’s words.
He thought of them in burning clarity when they lay together, when her lips parted in a sigh that could have been Ash’s name or his, when her hands brushed against his skin, through his hair. When Agnes watched, lingering beside them as Ash and Olly worked each other to pieces.
Who is it really for?
He didn’t know. He thought he had known, but Pepper had thrown that certainty into disarray.
Whatever his feelings, they – like Agnes’s – were unimportant.
Francis was still beneath their roof, Agnes’s family were still being difficult, and no progress at all had been made towards discovering their involvement in the attempt on Ash’s life.
However frustrating it was for him and Ash, the toll it was taking on Agnes was undeniable.
She wavered between distress and anger every time she so much as looked at Francis, and as the days passed she became plagued with headaches and sickness, her food untouched, retiring to sleep early more often than not.
She returned to her own bed, something that surprised both him and Ash.
It made it harder to deny what Pepper had said, too. He cared. He worried. On more than one occasion he and Ash had hovered outside her door, not knowing what to do.
Life in the keep continued as normal – as much as it could be described as normal – with the unwelcome presence of Agnes’s family and Francis. With no progress made on the matter of the attack, he was truly losing his mind.
It was over a week after he had spoken to Pepper that his unsure grip upon it was threatened to be lost entirely. They were sitting for a morning meal, preparing to ride out for the afternoon, when the outer doors to the great hall burst open.
Olly did not recognise the man who strode from the blinding sunlight towards the table. But beside him, Ash stiffened, his knife clattering down. Before Olly could ask, Francis – sat beside him – -was on his feet.
‘Hugh!’ he bellowed. ‘How wonderful to see you!’