Chapter Sixteen
Lansdown Castle, Somerset
“Dani, where are you?” Jocelin’s disembodied voice floated upon the warm summer air. “Dani?”
It was July in the lush green countryside of Somerset. The humidity was heavy, both from the River Avon and the not so distant sea, but it was nonetheless a lovely day infused with the scent of summer flowers.
Seated beside the lake just outside the walls of Lansdown, Sheridan lounged comfortably beneath a colorful umbrella with the water licking at her feet.
Alys was sitting in the lake, for the weather was too hot for her liking, and the little pup, now grown into a little dog, leapt through the grass chasing imaginary rabbits.
At the sound of Jocelin’s voice, Sheridan turned to see him wandering in the tall grass on the rise above the lake.
“Here we are,” she called back to him, waving her hand.
The bishop caught sight of her, partially hidden by a sapling, and made his way down the hill in her direction.
Sheridan turned in her chair, facing the lake again and watching the bugs dance upon the waters.
To her left was an easel with a half-finished painting of the lake; she wasn’t very good at painting but she enjoyed it.
She’d been able to do little else over the past few months as her pregnancy advanced.
She was enormous at almost seven months and her mother’s physic said she carried twins.
With all of the tumbling and kicking in her belly, she was positive that he was correct.
At her feet, Alys rolled around in the water, playing with the grass at the lake’s edge.
Her little sister was still the same after all these months only she had grown up just a little; she seemed more mature somehow, more somber.
She no longer believed herself in love with every man she met.
Gone were the flighty tendencies and temper tantrums. She lived and breathed for her sister’s comfort.
Wars and tragedy had a way of maturing those they touched.
“Do you think Guy will come and visit soon?” she asked her sister as she picked at a blade. “The last time he was here, he said that he would return soon. Do you suppose that he will?”
Sheridan’s thought of de Braose and his constant presence. “I am sure he will be back shortly.”
“He always comes back.”
“Indeed he does.”
Alys cast her sister a sidelong glance as she toyed with the grass. “He loves you so, Dani,” she said softly. “You really should marry him and put him out of his misery.”
Sheridan ignored her sister, turning back to her painting. “You are going to turn into a prune if you stay in that water much longer.”
Alys tossed the grass aside and sat up, splashing water on her arms. “’Tis too hot to get out just yet,” she eyed her sister again.
“Dani, do you not want the baby to have a father when it is born? Guy has been very kind to you and he would love this baby as his own. Moreover, you promised Sean that you would marry him. Do you intend to go back on your promise?”
Sheridan’s jaw began to tick. “I do not wish to discuss this with you.”
Alys suddenly stood up, water cascading off her white thighs. “And why not?” she sloshed through the water towards the shore. “You have avoided speaking with anyone about it for six months. You cannot put it off forever.”
“I can put it off forever if I wish.”
Alys reached the shore. “But this is not healthy for you,” she pleaded.
“I know that you do not want to make any decisions until you have confirmation of Sean’s death, but it has been seven months now and no one has seen or heard from the man.
Jocelin has sent missives to the Marshall that have gone unanswered.
No one can find Gilby and not even Neely knows what became of Sean after he left him at the Tower.
When are you going to come to terms with the fact that Sean is dead and you must move forward with your life? ”
Sheridan threw her brush to the ground and stood up as swiftly as her swollen body would allow. Alys sighed heavily as her sister crossed her arms stubbornly. By this time, Jocelin had joined them and he instantly sensed the tension in the air. He eyed both girls.
“Dani?” he ventured. “Alys? What is the matter?”
Sheridan refused to look at him; unwinding her arms, she put her hands to the small of her back and wandered towards the lake. Alys watched her walk away with the little dog jumping happily at her feet.
“Nothing new is the matter,” Alys told Jocelin. “We were simply speaking of Guy.”
Jocelin wriggled his eyebrows at the very touchy subject matter.
“I see,” he watched Sheridan as she stood at the edge of the water and threw a little stick to the dog.
He wasn’t sure he should even tell her what he had come to say but he could not keep it a secret.
She would find out soon enough. “I came to tell you that the sentries have sighted riders about a mile out. I suspect that it is Guy returned.”
Sheridan simply hung her head. Jocelin cast a long glace at Alys, silently ordering the girl away.
Alys did so reluctantly, taking the dog with her as it raced up the hill.
When the red-headed sister was gone, Jocelin went to stand next to Sheridan.
His gaze moved over the lake, the gentle reeds and finally the distant horizon.
He could feel Sheridan’s sorrow; he had been feeling it for months. But her sorrow did not erase the facts.
“Perhaps…,” he began, then cleared his throat. “Perhaps you should think on consenting to Guy’s proposal. The man will not wait forever.”
“Then let him move on,” Sheridan snapped softly. “I did not ask him to wait for me.”
“But you promised Sean that you would marry him. That is why he waits. And also because he loves you a great deal.”
Sheridan turned away from him and began to walk the muddy shore. “Why must we speak on this every time he comes around?” she asked. “I have told you this time and time again; I have no intention of marrying Guy until I know for certain that Sean is dead.”
Jocelin drew in a long, deep breath, shaking his head. “Dani….”
She whirled on him. “Show me his body and I shall believe,” she said forcefully, “because until such time as I have proof, my husband is still alive and I will not marry anyone else.”
Jocelin exhaled sharply. “I have sent missives to the Marshall asking for proof. The man has not responded because he is too busy with more important things. You know that the barons are on the march against the crown and the Marshall is with them. You must accept that.…”
“Nay!” Sheridan roared, kicking at the water at her feet. “I will not accept. If you want me to believe that my husband perished, then I must have proof.”
“It has been six months since you last saw him. I would say the fact that he has not come for you in all that time is proof enough.”
Her raging came to an abrupt halt and she simply stood there, staring at her feet. She was between sorrow and anger so often these days. “Father Simon said that….”
“Father Simon is in London.”
Her head came up and she fixed on him. “Father Simon said there is always hope. Sean is stronger than we know.”
Jocelin pursed his lips sympathetically and went to her, putting his meaty hands on her arms.
“Father Simon was trying to give you comfort,” he shook her gently. “I believe the time has come for you to accept that your husband did not survive. Now, when young de Braose comes today, I would suggest you reconsider his proposal. He is a good man, Dani. He will make a fine husband and father.”
“I like Guy a great deal but I do not want to marry him.”
“I know you do not. But you must consider what is right for the baby. And you promised Sean that you would.”
He always threw that into the mix; Sheridan was coming to wish she had never told him that detail of her last conversation with Sean.
As the months passed and her pregnancy advanced, so did her resolve against remarriage.
She wasn’t foolish; she knew that they were trying to force her into marriage with de Braose for her own good.
Moreover, Guy loved her. Over the past several months he had proven himself wise, humorous and compassionate and Sheridan had come to like the man a great deal.
But she did not love him. She probably never would.
Her heart would always belong to de Lara.
Yet she could not deny that it was increasingly apparent that Sean was dead.
She kept hope in her heart that he had survived, but the more time passed, the harder it was to keep that hope alive.
One day it would break down completely. Every time she reflected on the last time she saw him, her heart shattered just a little more.
Perhaps it was time to finally accept the obvious.
She chewed on her lip, staring at the ground. After a moment, her blond head came up and she struggled with the words that were forming.
“If it will make you happy, I will make Guy a counter proposal,” she spoke so softly that he barely heard her. “If he can bring me proof that Sean is dead….”
Jocelin cut her off. “He has tried that. He has gone to London to find out what became of Sean but he was unable to discover anything except those journals he brought to you.”
Sheridan’s gaze moved across the water as she thought on the volumes that Guy had brought back to her from the Tower.
A priest at the Tower had given them to Guy when he had come around asking about de Lara; no one was sure how the volumes of journals had ended up in the chapel, but they had.
The priests had found them in a dark corner, covered with a cloth, and left them there because they were unsure what to do with them.
But that changed when de Braose came to the Tower on a spring day in April.
Guy had dutifully turned them over to Sheridan, who, unable to read Latin, had asked Guy to read them to her.