Chapter 33
Olly
Was that a confession? Olly could not say. But it felt like one. He had never seen Ash so scared.
Ash had spoken only briefly of his mother and her death, the topic always out of reach, the subject one that Ash refused to entertain. Olly knew she was dead, and he knew how she had died. But he had never asked, never wanted to risk Ash’s ire by asking.
Now he wished he had. If he had, he could have understood this more.
The fear had consumed Ash. It had rendered him utterly insensible, his skin flushed and sweaty, his chest heaving. Olly had only been able to sit and watch as Ash had muttered about being the cause of Agnes’s death.
God, if only he had asked sooner. If only he had thought to ask sooner.
Nobody who did not love someone would have that reaction to hearing that they were doomed to die. Nobody. Ash loved her, and she him, and—
And Olly needed to work out where he fit into that.
He wondered if his own reaction to Hugh’s assumption had been its own kind of confession. Not horror, not anger that Ash and Agnes’s marriage would soon be sealed so conspicuously, but something far brighter than that. Something bordering on joy.
Olly was not stupid; both Ash and he had lain with Agnes, both of them had spent inside her.
In flesh alone, any child she bore could be from either of them.
There was no way of knowing, not unless the babe was born with blue eyes and yellow hair.
Yet that did not seem to matter, not in any material way.
He had never considered the idea of children.
As a youth, he had expected to gain his knighthood and spend out the rest of his days at Ash’s side.
After his return from France, the thought was never one he entertained, taking pains to ensure nothing he did would beget children.
It would be too cruel to both them and the woman who would be their mother.
And now the idea had been thrust upon him, a new world in which it was no longer a vague thought for the future but a more certain promise of what it held.
It was shocking – but shocking like an unexpected gift, like reaching the peak of a hill and seeing out across a beautiful landscape one had not realised was there.
Like waking from a good dream to see your lover sleeping beside you.
Like waking to see both of them sleeping beside you.
He dared not voice this aloud, not while Ash was so anxious. Once Ash had calmed, perhaps Olly could infect him with his own joy. But before he could even try, he needed to make Ash safe. He could not do it alone.
‘Stay here,’ he said. ‘I am going to fetch Agnes.’
Ash barely registered he had spoken. He bolted from the room and barrelled directly into Hugh, who was lingering outside. He caught his eye as Olly hurried past.
‘What a shame you had to witness that, young man,’ he drawled. ‘To see your lord’s nature writ so terribly.’
Olly halted so quickly it was like a wall had sprung up in front of him.
‘Don’t you dare—’ Olly growled, advancing upon Hugh. ‘Do not speak in such a way. This man is scared for his wife. Do you understand that? Do you understand why? Can you not think why he may fear this, considering what happened to his mother?’
Hugh, to Olly’s surprise, backed away. It was as if no one had ever challenged him before.
‘He is unstable—’
‘He is afraid! My God, man, have you no care for your own blood?’
‘But—’
‘Lord Barden was cut down in war, watched his closest friend die, heard his mother die, and now fears the same fate for his wife! Do you not see how those things could affect a man? Could make him less than his best self?’
Hugh had gone quiet. ‘It is no excuse—’
‘No,’ Olly spat. ‘It is no excuse to treat your own nephew so terribly, or to say such heinous things about his siblings.’ Hugh looked shocked. ‘Yes, Ash told me what he heard. Frankly, I think you should be pleased that all he did was send Simon home with a few bruises.’
‘It was more than a few—’
‘Do you know what your venom has done?’ Olly demanded. ‘I do not know if you are cruel, or stupid, or both, to put into motion the attack on Ash on the road.’
Hugh frowned. ‘I do not see how that is relevant.’
‘Do not play the fool with me,’ Olly said. ‘Ash may be keen to assume you would not stoop so low, but I have no such qualms.’
‘I have no idea what you are—’
‘It was a deliberate attempt on Ash’s life, and you well know it!’
Hugh went silent. His mouth opened and shut like a great fish. ‘What?’
‘You heard me, you bastard.’
‘An attempt on his— He was trying to kill him?’
‘He was paid to kill him!’
Olly hissed the last words. Hugh had gone very pale.
‘I had no idea,’ he mumbled. ‘I did not … I had no idea …’
Olly launched forwards and grabbed Hugh by his collar. ‘Swear it.’
‘No … I … never. I swear to you, I would never— That is a crime. That is the worst crime, to kill one’s own kin? No, no, I swear I did not—’
Olly stepped back. Hugh slumped down, rubbing at his throat.
‘You are sure?’ he breathed.
‘Entirely sure. The attacker was sent to kill Ash in the woods like a dog.’
‘Why?’
‘Because of your poison. Your stupid, spiteful words dripped into the wrong ears.’
‘What— but, who—’
‘Francis mac Cainnich.’ Olly turned to see Agnes standing behind him.
She must have been alerted by the noise and come to see what was happening.
‘Francis mac Cainnich paid a man to find Ash and have him killed.’ She strode forwards like a warrior.
Olly stepped out of her way. ‘Francis was told – by you – that Ash is a cruel, violent, unpredictable man. And as he already had his eyes set on his prize …’ she sneered the last word ‘… he used your lies to ensure it would be his.’
Hugh gaped at her. ‘I had no idea. I did not know—’
‘No,’ Agnes said. ‘You did not know. You did not know that spreading spite and hate could get your nephew killed. And yet it nearly did.’
‘Ash is a good man,’ Olly said. ‘He is loved by his allies, not merely tolerated. Whatever you think of him, whatever you thought of him, you will keep it behind your teeth where it belongs.’
Hugh nodded, wordlessly. ‘Yes, I … I did not mean to—’
‘No,’ Agnes said. ‘You did. You meant to spread doubt about him, to turn his allies against him, to seclude him just for the bitterness in your own soul. You just did not mean to get him killed. The difference is not so great as you seem to believe.’
‘But—’
‘I would advise you to leave my keep, Hugh Barden,’ Agnes said. ‘Before you can cause any more harm.’
‘May I speak to Ash? To apologise?’
‘I can pass on any message you may have for him,’ Agnes said. ‘If he wishes to speak to you, we will send word.’
Hugh looked between them. ‘Tell him … tell him I apologise. And pass on my congratulations. To you both. I will pray for your health.’
He left with his head down, at speed. Olly watched him go, glad to see the back of him.
‘What happened?’ Agnes asked, once he had disappeared. ‘Hugh sent a servant to say Ash had been taken unwell, but did not say anything else.’
‘It was a sort of … attack,’ Olly said, unsure what else to call it. ‘He lost himself. He could not breathe; his eyes were glazed. I think he could hear things.’
Recognition dawned on Agnes’s face. ‘I have seen that before.’
‘You have? When?’
‘When you attacked him.’
Olly swallowed back the urge to vomit.
‘Olly … What did Hugh mean?’ she asked.
‘What?’
‘He wanted to pass on his congratulations. What did he mean by that?’
‘He … we …’ Olly closed his eyes. Took a breath. ‘Agnes. Are you with child?’
She stared at him. Her expression drifted, like clouds. Then she grabbed his arm and led him back into the side chamber where Ash was beside the fire, staring at nothing. She knelt beside him, taking his hand. Olly sat on his other side, waiting.
At last, she spoke, loud enough that both of them could hear.
‘I am not.’
Oh. Olly was not sure why it felt so terrible.
Ash finally looked at her. ‘Are you sure?’
She nestled closer, leaning her head against his knee. ‘I am entirely sure.’
Ash said nothing. Olly took his hand. They sat together in silence.
Olly wondered if they were feeling the same sense of grief that he was.
A heaviness seemed to have settled over the keep. Once Ash was calm, Agnes hurried off to see if Francis had been made aware of Ash’s attack, ready to smooth the situation over. Olly led Ash upstairs, leaving him in his chambers. Ash asked him to fetch Raff. Olly could only comply.
He felt oddly hollow as he headed from Raff’s room. He had only been a father for a few moments. Yet it was as if something had been taken from him.
Would he have been a father? In the mess of it all, where would he have stood? Would he have been second again to the holy union, an outsider, cursed to watch a child grow up without him?
It was too much of a burden to place on Ash’s shoulders, and to speak to him or Agnes would lead to conversations that Olly was not ready for. Which left one person.
Pepper would be smug about being right – if he even was right – but he was open and honest and would tell Olly if he were being a fool about the whole thing.
It was pure luck that he found Pepper in the servants’ quarters, even if he were not alone. Sara’s face snapped around as Olly entered, blushing.
‘Pepper?’ he said, trying to ignore whatever scene he had wandered into. ‘I wondered if we could talk.’
Pepper grinned devilishly and cast a quick glance towards Sara.
‘Important business, my Lady,’ he said with a wink. ‘We will speak later.’
As they made their way to an empty room, Olly resisted the urge to tease him. It would make him a hypocrite, given his own rather tenuous situation. Pepper seemed to realise this as he shut the door behind him.
‘Noll? Are you all right? I heard that Lord Barden was taken ill, but I did not realise … Is he well?’
Olly leaned against a wall, staring at his feet. He felt Pepper’s eyes upon him.
‘I do not know how to phrase it …’
‘Then you are a poor minstrel. Phrase it badly, if you must.’
Olly sighed. ‘You are aware that Agnes has been unwell? We – Ash and I – realised that she could be with child.’
Finally, he looked up. Pepper was staring at him.
‘And is she?’
‘No.’
Pepper chewed on his lower lip. ‘I … am sorry to hear that,’ he said.
Olly had been expecting Pepper to laugh or say that Olly had been lucky. He had been expecting a quick dismissal – not this. He was not sure what to do with it.
‘Thank you,’ he said quietly. ‘Although I am not sure if I am allowed your sympathy.’
‘Noll. You have my sympathy, whether or not you believe you are allowed it. Was Ash unhappy to learn she could be with child?’
‘He was scared,’ Olly said. ‘I do not think he was angry or unhappy, but after his mother—’ He took a deep breath. ‘His mother died while Lily was being born. I do not think he realised how deep that wound runs.’
Pepper nodded. ‘I really am sorry, Noll.’
Olly realised his eyes were wet with tears. Pepper came to stand beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Olly slumped into the embrace. Pepper rubbed a hand up and down his back.
‘You need to talk to them,’ he said, after Olly’s shoulders had stopped shaking.
‘I do not know how.’
‘You will find a way,’ Pepper said. ‘You are Noll. You’ve always been able to find a way.’
Olly smiled into Pepper’s shoulder. He hoped that he was right.