Chapter Eight #2
The action made her laugh. She sat back in her seat and chuckled. She was about to venture another look from the window when a massive dappled charger suddenly pulled alongside the cab. She recognized her husband’s steed and stuck her head out of the window.
“Well?” she asked him. “What is it? I am busy charming the locals peasants, so be quick about it.”
Inside the cab, Caroline burst into laughter but Matthew had no idea what she meant. He flipped up his visor and looked at her.
“What mischief is this?” he demanded.
She just grinned at him, a playful gesture. “Nothing, my lord. Just a joke.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “A joke?”
“Aye,” she explained. “I smiled at a little boy back there and he threw a rock at me.”
Matthew’s head snapped sharply to the rear, his blue eyes narrowing. “Which child?”
She shook her head. “I am not going to tell you because he was probably three years old and terrified. You have better things to do than punish a three year old.”
He looked at her, not entirely pleased with her answer but allowing it to go unchallenged. He held out his hand, an invitation for her to place her fingers in his palm, which she did so gladly. The mailed glove was cold as he clasped her warm flesh.
“We are an hour outside of Windsor,” he told her. “We will be staying at Rosehill, my aunt’s residence near the castle. My father has already gone ahead to announce our arrival.”
“Which side of your family is your aunt from?” she asked.
“She is my father’s sister. The Lady Livia Wellesbourne St. James married a man of some wealth and has chosen to live near the city all of these years.
She will be very happy to meet you and, I warn you, will try to stuff you with all manner of treats.
If you get too fat to shove through the door while we stay here, I swear I shall divorce you and leave you in London. ”
She giggled. “I promise, I shall not eat too many.”
He winked at her. “I really would not divorce you.”
“I know.”
They smiled at each other a moment, the easy warmth settling between them. Matthew finally brought her hand to his lips, kissing it softly.
“I only came back to tell you this,” he said. “I must return.”
“So soon? You only just arrived.”
“Believe me that I would stay if I could, but duty calls. And Aunt Livia will expect to see me at the very first or she might try to box my ears.”
He left her with a smile on her face, watching him ride all the way back to the front of the column.
He sat so strong and tall in the saddle, like the legend she had heard tale of.
Only now the legend was reality, more than she would have ever dreamed it could have been.
When he was out of sight, she settled back in her seat, not realizing that Caroline was watching her closely.
“I have known Matthew for two years,” Caroline said quietly. “I have never seen him like this.”
Alixandrea looked at her. “Like what?”
Caroline shrugged lightly. “Smitten,” she said. “Anyone can see that he is absolutely enamored with you.”
Alixandrea’s smile broadened. Though it was only Caroline’s opinion, she dared herself to hope. “As I am with him.”
Caroline gazed steadily at her. A weak smile finally creased her face. “It was always my hope that Mark would feel towards me the way Matthew feels towards you. You are most fortunate.”
So the woman wasn’t oblivious to the way Mark responded to her. Somehow it hurt Alixandrea’s feelings to know that. She put her hand out, taking Caroline’s tiny cold fingers in her palm.
“Perhaps he will,” she said encouragingly. “’Tis not too late.”
Caroline laughed bitterly. “He does not hold any affection for me, my lady. He never has. We’ve not had any children because.…”
She trailed off, her cheeks suddenly flame-colored.
Alixandrea could not let it go; it was apparent the woman needed someone to talk to.
Two years in a house full of men with no one to confide in must have left her horribly lonely and in need of companionship.
She had sensed it the first day she arrived.
“Because why?” she asked gently. “You may tell me, Caroline. I would never tell anyone.”
Caroline met her gaze. There was pain in her eyes.
“He… he has stopped performing his husbandly duties,” she whispered.
“He stopped nearly a year ago. Oh, I know he goes to the Head O’Bucket and I know why.
I am not as stupid as everyone would think and I further know why he does not want me to come to London.
Did you think I did not know that? I do, you know. ”
Alixandrea did not know what to say. “Oh… Caroline,” she murmured. “How can you be sure of this? He is your husband, after all. Surely he would not shame you.”
Her expression was unnaturally hard. “There was a baby born to one of the servants a few months ago,” she said.
“Mark and his brothers happened to be back from London at the time. If there is a birth at Wellesbourne, I am the one to tend it. It is my duty. But Matthew would not let me tend this one. I did not even know about it until the child had been delivered and then Matthew tried his best to keep me from seeing the child. But I did. A delightful little girl with nearly black eyes and hair. She is the spitting image of my husband.”
Alixandrea felt sick inside. She could only sit there, holding Caroline’s hand. With the warmth of the comforting touch, Caroline’s confession came tumbling out.
“Matthew was only trying to protect me, I know that,” she continued. “He has always shown me such regard. But there are some things that even he cannot protect me from.”
Alixandrea listened to her, thought on it a moment, and finally shook her head. “I do not know what to say that would bring you comfort. Anything that comes to mind sounds trite or na?ve. Have… have you ever spoken to your husband about this?”
“Nay. But I know that he would tell me that it is none of my affair.”
“And the others know? All of the brothers, I mean, and Adam as well?”
“Of course. But they do not involve themselves in what does not concern them.”
The cab lurched and rolled over the particularly bumpy road.
Alixandrea continued to hold Caroline’s hand in silence, glancing out the window now and again, lost in thought.
She tried not to hate Mark Wellesbourne for his behavior, but it was difficult.
She also knew that it was not considered outlandish behavior for a man to take a mistress, or several, even though he was married.
It was shameful. She could only pray that Matthew would never do such a thing to her.
The mere thought of it made her feel sicker than she already did.
“Well,” she tried to sound positive without sounding unsympathetic.
“Perhaps we can change things. Perhaps we can get you some new clothes in London, things so beautiful that Mark will not want to look anywhere other than at you. And perhaps we can do your hair differently, and add a little jewelry. We can certainly try, can’t we? ”
Caroline was torn between resignation and the inclination to agree. She’d never confessed such things to anyone and it was a new experience to have a woman’s advice on the subject. “Perhaps.”
Alixandrea smiled at her, forcing away the melancholy of the past few minutes of conversation. “We shall find the best dress makers and the finest stylists in all the city. We’ll make you a ravishing creature.”
Caroline did not say anything. She simply returned Alixandrea’s smile, unconvincing though it might be.
They sat in silence until the blue ribbon of the Thames came into view and the brownstone and thatched roof houses of the London commons appeared as thick as trees in the forest. In spite of their conversation and gloomy thoughts, the excitement of having finally reaching Windsor overshadowed everything.
They had arrived.
*
The walls of Whitewell’s keep were wrought with tension.
Not only did Lord Ryesdale have his evening meal interrupted, but it was interrupted by the last person he expected to see.
His gut hurt at the sight and his food, the fine venison he had hunted that day, was pushed away.
He could not believe what he was seeing and demanded an explanation in front of the entire hall.
Though it was only a few servants and soldiers, still, it felt as if he was confessing to the entire world.
Now everyone knew of the failure of Strode Levingsworth.
But none more so that Howard. He heard his manservant’s tale, his eyebrows lifting with each passing word. By the time the man was finished, Howard was ready to explode.
“He sent you back to tell me this?” he demanded. “He dares to threaten me?”
Strode stood before his liege, head down, waiting for the blows that were about to befall him.
The ride north to York had been a particularly dismal one and he thought, many times, of abandoning his course.
But he had been at Whitewell since infancy and it was the only home he had ever known.
He had nowhere else to go. He could only hope that Lord Ryesdale could forgive him his failure.
“He said to tell you that he has taken your niece and your men and that you should count yourself fortunate that he doesn’t burn Whitewell down around your ears.”
Howard’s eyes bulged. “More threats?” he gasped. Then he charged Strode, as the man had expected, striking him across the face. As the servant fell to the floor, Howard hovered over him. “What went wrong? How did you foul up my orders, you stupid fool?”
Strode cowered beneath him. “The maid,” he said; it was the only thing that came to mind. “She must have told him everything, for surely, it did not come from me. I was faithful, my lord.”
“Where is she?”
“She ran off, my lord. I have not seen her since we were released.”