Chapter Sixteen #2
It had been an eye-opening experience into the life and thoughts of a spy. The Chronicles of Sean de Lara had, if nothing else, fed false hope in Sheridan that the man was still alive. Surely one so strong could never die.
“Dani?” Jocelin gently shook her from her reflection. “Did you hear me?”
She sighed faintly, allowing thoughts of the chronicles to fade.
“I heard you,” she murmured. Then she looked at him.
“I am only asking for something which I believe is my right. If Guy could find an eyewitness to Sean’s death or even the location of his burial, I would no longer resist his marriage proposal. There would be no reason to.”
Her statement was the first truly positive inkling she had issued towards a marriage to de Braose in six months and Jocelin squeezed her arms encouragingly.
“Very well,” he said quietly. “If that is what it will take, then surely there is something more he can do to help you come to grips with Sean’s death. I am sure if he knew you would agree to marry him right away, he would do everything possible to meet your terms. Shall I tell him?”
She paused a long moment before nodding. Jocelin kissed her on the top of the head and let her go.
“Then I shall go and tell him,” he said as he began the long trek up the hill. “He will be pleased.”
Sheridan turned back to the lake, standing alone as the gentle waters lapped at her feet.
After a moment, the tears came, silently pouring down her cheeks as they had done so often these past six months.
She wiped at her face, trying to stay ahead of the torrents that dripped onto her bosom.
But it was of no use; the tears sprang from a well of grief that would never run dry.
She continued to stand there for quite some time, pondering her future.
She did not want to return to the castle where Guy had arrived and was now undoubtedly asking where she was.
It would take little time for him to find her.
He was, if nothing else, predictable. She wanted to spend a few moments alone with her thoughts before he came hounding after her like an eager puppy.
Sheridan put her hands against the small of her back again and began to pace around the shore of the lake.
Lost in reflection, she barely missed stepping on a harmless little snake as it drank from the water.
She shrieked, first in surprise, followed by giggles when she realized what she had nearly done.
She stood there a moment, watching the snake fade into the weeds.
“Sheridan?”
A familiar voice caught her attention and she turned abruptly to see Guy standing a few feet behind her. Her heart sank a little at the sight of him; he had found her sooner than she had hoped.
“Greetings, Guy,” she said pleasantly. “How was London?”
He shrugged vaguely. “It was… eventful,” he seemed rather unsteady in his manner. “I heard you scream. Are you all right?”
She grinned, pointing to the grass. “A little snake startled me,” she said. “I am fine.”
Guy nodded and it was then that Sheridan noticed he seemed tight and drawn about the face. She peered more closely at him.
“What is wrong?” she asked. “You look strange.”
Guy seemed taken aback that she noticed his demeanor; he was hoping that it was not too noticeable. Then again, he had never been any good at hiding his feelings.
“Do I?” He tried to bluff his way out of it but found that he could not. “It… it is nothing, really. Well, perhaps something. Aye, it is something.”
He was rambling and she lifted her eyebrows at him. “What is it?”
He wasn’t sure where to start. Reaching out, he took her gently by the arm and began to walk her back over to the chair and umbrella spread beneath the sapling. It was cooler in the shade.
“I just want to say something,” he began softly. “I have… well, I have loved you since nearly the moment we first met. You know that. And I have wanted to marry you for nearly as long.”
She sighed faintly, pausing to look at him. She was hoping they could have avoided this subject for a little while but she was not surprised that it was the first thing out of his mouth.
“I know that,” she said quietly. “And I am not trying to be cruel by refusing, but.…”
He cut her off. “I realize that. Your heart is with Sean; I have always known. And I want you to know that I have finally accepted that. I have accepted the fact that you and I shall never wed.”
Her brow furrowed faintly; his manner seemed rather abrupt and slightly nervous. “Why would you say such a thing?” she asked curiously.
He regarded her a moment before taking a deep breath. “You are aware that I went to London at the bequest of my father.”
She nodded. “Of course. You were here at Lansdown when he sent a missive and asked you to go to London on an errand.”
“Aye,” Guy was having difficulty looking at her. “I did go to London. But it was not on an errand for my father. It was because my father had received a missive addressed to me at Abergavenny Castle.”
“What missive?”
“A missive about Sean.”
Fortunately they had reached her chair because Sheridan felt all of the blood rush from her head. Guy carefully lowered her into the chair. The tears were already pouring from her eyes as he sat beside her.
“My God,” she breathed. “Is it true?”
“It is. It said….”
“Please,” she wept softly. “I do not want to know what it said. Please do not tell me.”
He knew she did not mean it; she was simply refusing the pain that she believed such a missive would bring. Guy put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly.
“I must tell you,” he said quietly. “You must be strong and listen to every word. Please, Sheridan. It is important.”
She looked at him, sobbing fearfully. Although she had wanted proof of his death, still, the reality of it was difficult to bear. But she eventually nodded and he continued.
“The reason that no one was able to discover anything about Sean is because the Marshall had him taken to Rossington House in north London,” he said gently.
“When the Marshall went on to fight the baron’s wars, there was no way to know that Sean had ended up at Rossington.
Only two people knew of his location; William and Gilby. The missive I received was from Gilby.”
“Gilby?” She was sobbing into her hand. “What… what did he say?”
Guy stroked her head gently, trying to keep her calm. “He sent it to Abergavenny because he thought you would be there, with me,” he told her gently. “You did, after all, promise Sean that you would marry me. He naturally assumed you would be there.”
“Tell me what it said.”
Guy sighed faintly. “It said that Sean survived his trip from the Tower to Rossington. God knows how, but he survived. Gilby did not expect him to live after that. He said that he waited daily for Sean to die.”
Sheridan was sobbing so hard that she was almost incoherent. Guy shook her gently, forcing her to look at him. When he saw how distraught she was, he took her kerchief and dipped it in the lake, gently swabbing her cheeks so that she would calm. He did not know what else to do.
“Why…,” she gasped. “Why did you go to London?”
“Because Sean was in London.”
Sheridan was growing faint with grief. But she struggled through it, knowing it would do no good to weep for her husband dead these long months. Perhaps she really had known all along that he had perished but had refused to accept it. The confirmation was hard to face.
“Did… did you see him?” she whispered.
“I brought him with me.”
She yelped, looking at Guy with such horror that the man put his hands on her to still her. Sheridan struggled to stand up.
“I must go to him,” she sounded extremely unsteady. “I must go to him right away. Where is he?”
Guy was struggling to calm her, letting out a piercing whistled as he did so. It was evident that he was calling for someone, perhaps assistance for the hysterical lady. She was veering out of control and he needed help.
“Sheridan, you must calm yourself,” he pleaded. “You do not need to go to him. He will come to you. But I wanted to prepare you.”
“Prepare me for what?”
Guy blinked, realizing she did not understand.
It was the most obvious thing in the world as he had explained it; or, at least, he thought so.
But given her reaction, he realized that he had not been clear.
Before he had a chance to clarify, a massive silhouette appeared on the crest of the hill above the lake.
The sun was at such an angle that it was difficult to make out any features, but the size alone was explanation enough.
Sheridan caught a glimpse of the figure in her peripheral vision, turning when she realized someone was approaching.
She inspected the body, watched the familiar gait, and an odd feeling swept her.
She suddenly felt as if she was in a dream, for surely, things like this only happened in dreams. There was no other explanation.
She began to feel faint as she realized that she was gazing at her husband.
As if by a miracle, her hysteria vanished.
She stared at Sean as he walked towards her; there was no mistaking his proud stance or the soft expression on his face.
He looked like he did when they had first met; dressed in a soft blue tunic, leather breeches and boots, he was more handsome than she had remembered.
As she continued to stare at him, she noticed that he had lost some of his bulk.
It was Sean, only leaner. Somehow, someway, the man had survived.
It was too much to take. With a whimper, she fell back in her chair. Guy tried to support her, looking at her astonished face and hoping she wasn’t about to have a spell.