Chapter Twenty #2
She was making demands and the men, though wary, naturally agreed because a lady was always to be accommodated.
Moreover, they figured the woman had been through enough with le Bec and deserved to verbally abuse the man after what he’d done to her family and to her fortress.
St. John, the most reluctant of the men, sighed heavily.
“This is not advisable, my lady,” he said quietly. “Kenton le Bec is a very dangerous man.”
Nicola nodded impatiently. “I know he is,” she said, “and I will call you if I need you, but for now, you will remain out here. Please.”
So she was trying to be polite about it now even though she’d practically bullied and demanded to see Kenton since she had arrived at Conisbrough.
St. John simply threw the bolt and pulled the door open.
Nicola, with only a slight hesitation to reveal the apprehension she was feeling, entered the chamber.
St. John closed the door behind her, wondering how long it was going to be before he started hearing cries of help, from either one of them.
*
At first, Kenton thought he was hallucinating.
He’d been standing by the window, the sun on his shoulders, when the door to his chamber opened.
He turned, casually, thinking it was Saxilby, but the figure stepping into the room wasn’t Saxilby at all.
It was a vision he’d been dreaming of, fantasizing over, and agonizing over for days and weeks.
It seemed like years. He couldn’t even remember how long the vision had been on his mind because it seemed like forever.
Suddenly, Nicola was standing just inside the door and Kenton actually staggered.
His shock was so great that he came away from the wall, stumbled and nearly pitched forward.
His face, an open mask of astonishment, gazed at Nicola with more vulnerability than he had ever displayed.
Before he could say anything, however, Nicola spoke.
“Are you well, Kenton?” she asked softly.
He nodded, once. Then, his head jerked and he nodded several times, rapidly. He could hardly draw a breath as he drank in her pale, lovely face.
“Aye,” he said hoarsely. “Are you?”
“Aye.”
“Are your boys well?”
“They are.”
“Then why have you come?”
Nicola just stared at him. Her jaw worked, as if she were trying to speak, but no words came forth.
Kenton stared back at her, feeling the tension and apprehension in the room thicken and tighten around them both.
They both had so much to say but neither one of them could seem to speak.
Emotions, sometimes, ran stronger than words could express and this was one of those times.
But someone had to speak. Someone had to give. It was Nicola.
“I came here because I had to see you,” she finally said, her eyes filling with a lake of tears that spilled over as he watched.
“Our last words at Babylon were hateful… so hateful. I hated you that day, Kenton, or at least I thought I did until I realized I did not hate you at all. It was anything but hate and that was why I spoke so terribly to you. Before you left to go to war at Manchester, I heard you speaking in the solar to your knights and telling them that you were simply being kind to me in order to get information from me. I heard you say those words and… and they were daggers to my soul. I thought you and I… I thought… that is, we had a pleasant existence and you kissed me and told me you did not want me to leave Babylon when I asked to go, and you led me to believe… to think that there was some part of you that cared for me. But when I heard you tell your men that you were only using me, I thought that all of the sweet and noble things you said to me were lies. I hated you for it.”
Kenton learned a great deal in that rambling diatribe.
I heard you tell your men that you were only being kind to me to gain information.
Aye, he remembered that he’d said that to Wellesbourne and de Russe, but he’d only said that to throw them off his scent.
He was attracted to the Lady of Babylon and they had known it, which could have been a dangerous thing for them all.
Kenton had therefore lied to them to convince them otherwise, but in that lie, Nicola had heard him.
God, she had heard him! Now, things were starting to make some sense and his brow furrowed, more from shock than anything.
“You heard me tell de Russe and Wellesbourne that I was being kind to you simply to gain information?” he clarified, watching her nod.
“Then why did you not ask me about it? How could you think… Nicola, I told them that because I had to, because they were suspicious of my attention towards you and towards the fact that I had completely ignored Warwick’s orders up until that point.
I was supposed to launch an attack against Manchester but I had postponed it, mostly because…
mostly because I did not want to leave Babylon.
I did not want to leave you. So I lied to them so they would not be suspicious. ”
Nicola slapped a hand over her mouth, stifling a sob.
The tears were flowing faster and harder now.
“I did not know,” she whispered. “I did not know your heart, Kenton. I thought you were using me to gain your wants and… oh, Kenton, I did not know at all and I was too angry and hurt to confront you. I vowed that you would not use me… that I would use you… so I did. To punish you, I told the Conisbrough garrison of your plans to march on Manchester and that is why you find yourself here.”
She broke down into sobs, hanging her head miserably. Kenton, however, smiled faintly. He already knew everything she had confessed to. He was simply touched and relieved that she would admit such a thing. Mayhap there is hope, after all, he thought. God, let there be hope….
“I know,” he told her hoarsely. “I know all of that. What I did not know was why you did it and now I know.”
Nicola nodded, tears and mucus running off her face and she struggled to wipe at it.
“I am so sorry,” she cried, lifting her head to look at him.
“I am so sorry I did this. I do not expect you to forgive me but I wanted you to know… know what I had done. And I wanted you to know that I am very sorry.”
Kenton’s smile broadened, so relieved he could hardly stand. His legs felt weak, boneless, and all he wanted to do was draw her into his arms and never let her go. Her tears cut at him, tears of guilt and remorse.
“I forgave you even before I knew what had happened,” he said softly. “There is no need to ask my forgiveness, Nicola. I loved you then and I love you now, no matter what has happened. I will always love you and because I love you, you will always have my forgiveness.”
Her tears came anew at his declaration, painfully relieved at his generous forgiveness. It was too good to believe.
“You should hate me at the very least,” she said, choking on her own tears. “You should tell me to go and turn your back on me. How can you say that you love me after what I have done?”
He shrugged, wishing very much that he could wipe her face.
He wanted to touch her in the worst way but wouldn’t do it; against his usual behavior, of taking initiative when it came to touching the woman, this time he would not do it.
If she wanted his comfort, then she would come to him or she would ask for it.
He still wasn’t sure how she felt other than her obvious remorse.
He had told her he loved her but she had not reciprocated those words. Slowly, he was dying inside.
“Because I do,” he murmured. “I love you and those wild children you have raised and if you will have me, when my part in this war is over, I will return to Babylon to marry you.”
“But I…!”
“It does not matter,” he said, cutting her off.
“I understand why you did what you did. You did it to protect Babylon against a man you believed to be using you. You did what anyone would have done had they learned of deception. But you know that I was not deceiving you. I would live for you and I would die for you, Nicola, but I would never deceive you. Do you believe me?”
She nodded, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand. “I… I do,” she sniffed. “But you are quick to forgive a woman who tried to kill you. I am not entirely sure I would be so forgiving.”
He laughed softly. “Aye, you would,” he said. “When love is involved, understanding and forgiveness is a simple thing. Do you love me, Nicola?”
Her movements slowed, wiping at her face, the tears on her chin, and the miserable expression on her features suddenly lifted.
In its wake was an expression of warmth that Kenton couldn’t begin to describe, as if the sun had just emerged from behind the storm clouds, and suddenly she was nodding her head.
“Aye,” she whispered. “I do, Kenton. I love you. I cannot remember when I have not loved you.”
Kenton didn’t even remember moving across the floor of the chamber, but suddenly, he was standing in front of her, cupping her wet face with his enormous hands.
He simply stood there, holding her face, gazing into her watery eyes and thinking that this was the moment he’d waited for his entire life.
This moment of brilliance and comfort, erasing the life of solitude and warfare he had always known.
He wanted this moment, this space in time, to last forever.
Slanting his mouth over hers, he could taste the salt of her tears along with the sweetness of her flesh, and it was as if his entire life was now complete.
It would be a moment he would remember forever.