Chapter Nine #2
Emelisse’s eyes widened when she realized what he was saying. “He married a niece of William Marshal?” she gasped. “That means… now he is part of The Marshal’s family. Did he do this on purpose? To destroy Hawkstone?”
Caius shrugged, trying not to make it sound as bad as all that when the truth was that it was as bad as all that. He simply didn’t want to feed the fear he could see in her eyes because he needed for her to remain calm considering what he had to tell her.
She still didn’t know that Covington intended to marry her to his son.
“I am sure there were many reasons why they were married,” he said. “Marriage can be for money, for power, for armies, or for love. I do not know the reasons why he married her, but he did.”
His words eased her only slightly. Her gaze lingered on him a moment before she turned back to the flames, staring into their mesmerizing depths.
“It seems clear that he married her for William Marshal’s support,” she muttered. “He only married her two months ago and now here you are, with an army. I am not a politician, nor a military tactician, but even I can see why he did it.”
Caius watched her profile in the flickering light, his thoughts moving from the marriage of Covington and Alice to the curve of Emelisse’s face.
He was being an utter idiot, he knew, but he didn’t care.
His initial observations of her had not been incorrect; she was an exquisite creature.
He was curious about her, personally, and trying not to be obvious.
He was trying to be completely professional in all aspects, but the more he looked at her, the more difficult it became.
“Until I determine the truth of the situation, it will do no good for you to worry about this,” he said.
“But there is something you should know because I feel that it is only fair to tell you the truth. De Wrenville has recalled his son to Winterhold with the intention of marrying you. I know that is not what you want to hear, but that is what he has spoken of.”
Her head came up, her eyes wide on him. “Marius… he is coming here to marry me?”
Caius nodded. “That is what I have been told,” he said. “I thought you should know so you are not surprised when Marius arrives and the subject comes up. Mayhap knowing will give you time to… prepare yourself.”
For a moment, she simply looked at him and he met her gaze, waiting for her reaction. Either she would be resigned to it, which he couldn’t imagine she would be, or she would vehemently protest. He suspected he was going to have to listen to fearful tirade.
He wasn’t prepared for what happened next.
Suddenly, Emelisse was on her feet, running for the nearest shuttered window.
Caius was out of his seat, grabbing her just as she yanked open one of the broken shutters and tried to crawl up into the window.
Her intention was clear and, shocked, Caius pulled her out of the window, into his massive embrace, as she fought like a wildcat.
Caius was a big man, and strong, but Emelisse seemed to have superhuman strength.
She was twisting and fighting, and when he lifted his hand to hold her thrashing head still, she bit him.
It was enough for him to loosen his grip and she managed to yank herself free of his grasp, but not for long.
He tackled her before she could get to the window and they both went down on the floor in a heap.
“Please,” she begged, beating at the arms that were holding her. “Let me go! Please let me go!”
Caius was genuinely afraid of what would happen if he did. “Nay, my lady,” he said, his head tucked in behind hers. “I will not let you throw yourself from the window. Breathe, Emelisse, just breathe.”
He called her by her Christian name, hoping it might break that barrier between a professional and neutral party to someone who was concerned.
The human emotion factor in all of this, which had been sorely missing in this situation.
Emelisse had been treated like an enemy, punished and emotionally abused, and she was reacting in kind.
Only Lady de Wrenville had been kind to her.
Caius wanted to be kind to her, too.
But she wasn’t making it easy.
“Let me go!” she grunted, trying to force herself free of his iron grip. “It is not your right to save me! It is not your privilege! It is my life and I will not live it with Marius de Wrenville. So let me go or you condemn me to a fate worse than death!”
Caius didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what to say.
He was coming to regret telling her about Marius but, in the same breath, she had to be told sooner or later.
Better do it now while he was with her and able to prevent her from ending her life in desperation.
Frankly, her reaction had caught him off-guard.
There was nothing he could do not but hold on tightly until her urge to end it all subsided.
Emelisse’s burst of rage and terror was now fading into a burst of tears.
She was still fighting him, but now weeping, and he could feel her struggles lessen.
Still, he didn’t let go. He was afraid to.
The side of his head was against the back of hers and he could feel her heaving in his embrace, her soft and warm body lurching with sobs.
Had he not been so concerned with calming her, he would have realized that the woman in his arms was about the best thing he’d ever experienced.
He’d never known anything like it.
“I realize this situation has pushed you beyond your endurance,” he said in his deep, soothing voice. “But throwing yourself from the window is not the answer. Hawkstone still needs you, my lady. Would you abandon your home so easily?”
Emelisse was weeping pitifully in his arms. “You do not know how I feel,” she hissed. “You do not know me at all. Let me go or I will hate you until I die.”
Caius couldn’t help it; he grinned. “If I have anything to say about it, that will be many years in the future,” he said. “Hate me if you must, but throwing yourself from the window is the coward’s way out. And it seems to me that you are no coward.”
She continued to lay there, sobbing, until he could feel her soft body eventually relax against him. Had the circumstances not been so dire, he would have enjoyed it. Her hair, that mass of spun gold, was splayed against his chest, his shoulders, and part of his face.
Soft…
He dared to inhale of its scent, closing his eyes to the beauty of it.
But she suddenly came alive again, sensing perhaps that he had relaxed his hold, and tried to bolt out of his embrace.
His arms clamped down on her like a vise and threw a leg over her, effectively trapping her for all time should he so choose.
Realizing that, she stopped fighting, but her hands were on him, gripping him, and from the way she gripped him, Caius began to feel something he hadn’t felt in a very long time.
Fear.
He could feel her fear. It radiated from her like heat radiated from a fire. Unrestrained, consuming. Caius had never considered himself an empathetic man. Understanding, aye, but not empathetic. But with Emelisse, he was sensing things.
Feeling them.
That neutrality he was trying so hard to maintain was tipping.
As he lay there with her trapped in his embrace, the door to the chamber opened and he heard a gasp.
Craning his head over his shoulder, he could see Lady de Wrenville and Hallam standing there, looking horrified.
Hallam actually moved in his direction, perhaps thinking they’d come upon Caius molesting the lady, but Caius stopped him.
“I have not attacked the lady,” he said evenly. “I told her of the coming arrival of Marius and she tried to throw herself from the window. What I am doing, I am doing to save her life.”
Hallam’s eyes widened and Lady de Wrenville gasped again. In fact, she came around the twist of limbs and bodies on the floor so she could look at Emelisse from the front. She crouched down, her silk skirts billowing.
“My lady?” she asked, greatly concerned. “Is this true?”
Emelisse was weeping, her eyes closed and her head laying awkwardly on the floor. But her eyes opened to Lady de Wrenville’s question.
“Tell him to release me,” she grunted. “He has no right to prevent me from doing what I want to do. I will not marry your bastard stepson, Lady de Wrenville, and you cannot force me. None of you can force to do anything I do not wish to do.”
Lady de Wrenville’s expression washed with sorrow as she realized the desperation of the woman. “I am sorry, my lady,” she said. “I will speak to my husband. Surely there is another alternative.”
Emelisse’s head came up. “Tell him to send me home,” she begged, her lower lip trembling.
“I want to go home. I want to take my father home and bury him next to my mother. Your husband did that, my lady – he killed my father and now he wants to kill me by marrying me to his son. He wants to kill my entire family and we have never done him any harm. Please… help me.”
Lady de Wrenville closed her eyes tightly, with great remorse, and put her hand on Emelisse’s head in a gesture of comfort, of apology, of understanding.
There were a great many things rolling through Lady de Wrenville’s expression, not the least of which was the fact that two months into a hellish marriage, she found herself in a dismal situation.
She hadn’t started it, but she was part of it nonetheless.
“I will do what I can,” she whispered. “But you must promise me that you will not try to jump from the window again or I will have Sir Caius restrain you until this urge leaves you. Promise me, my lady. Please.”
Emelisse closed her eyes in response, the tears returning in a silent river that trickled down her temples, her face, and onto the floor. Realizing she wasn’t going to receive an answer, Lady de Wrenville watched Emelisse with great sorrow before turning her attention to Caius.