Chapter Ten #3
She looked down at herself, realizing how foolish she must have looked. “Sir Curtis told me to take it off,” she said. “I did as he asked.”
Christopher frowned. “Why did he tell you to take it off?”
She cleared her throat softly. “That is what I wish to speak with you about,” Elle said.
When Peter and Alexander moved to excuse themselves, she stopped them.
“Nay, do not go. Please. I have been speaking to Lord Hereford since yesterday, and I have only had his point of view conveyed to me. I know you are Curtis’ brothers.
I should like to speak to you about him, too, so that I have all the facts and not simply Lord Hereford’s version of them. ”
Peter and Alexander looked at each other, shrugged, and silently agreed. Peter even went over to collect a chair for the lady.
“Would you like to sit, my lady?” he asked.
Elle did. For once, she didn’t fight the English on anything they wanted to give her, convey, or do for her.
She was at her lowest point and had no more false pride to display.
Peter put the chair next to the brazier, and she sat, cup in hand, facing three men who pulled up chairs to sit with her and not simply stand over her.
After a moment, she looked around as if searching for something.
“It has occurred to me that Melusine is not here,” she said. “Where is my cousin?”
“I sent her to bed with a guard,” Christopher said. “Sherry’s sons are watching over her. They will be kind to her, so you needn’t worry.”
“Sherry,” she repeated. “Who is that?”
“Me,” Alexander said. “My name is Alexander de Sherrington. I married Hereford’s eldest daughter, Christin.”
Elle’s gaze lingered on the man with the black eyes and dark, trim beard. “You are the assassin.”
“That was long ago, my lady,” Alexander said quietly.
Elle shook her head. “I did not mean that the way it sounded,” she said.
“I simply meant that Sir Curtis told me about you and how Hereford did not want you for his daughter. He was explaining how sometimes, people marry those who others consider unsuitable, but he went on to praise you, as his brother. In fact, he has explained to me quite a bit about his family.”
“As he should,” Alexander said. “You are now part of the family, too.”
Elle took a deep breath, averting her gaze uncomfortably.
“That is where you are wrong,” she said.
“Mayhap I am by marriage, but that is what I wished to speak of. You see, I have ruined everything, and I do not know how to fix it. I do not know how to… I am not sure how to put it into words that you will understand. I came here to speak to you because… because I do not know what else to do.”
They weren’t unsympathetic. “Start from the beginning, my lady,” Christopher said quietly. “What has happened that Curt should leave you on your wedding night?”
Elle was deeply embarrassed, but she had also called this meeting, so it wasn’t as if she could not tell the truth. A truth that had been twisting itself up in her mind until she could hardly make sense of it. Finally, she grunted in frustration.
“My entire life has been defined by loyalty to the Welsh and self-rule,” she said.
“But it has also been defined by neglect and apathy. My father was old when I was born, and I was quite young when he died. I spent my early years with my grandmother, a cousin to Llywelyn, but I am certain you already know that. She was the only person who showed me concern or even affection, limited as it was. She was rigidly dedicated to her cousin and told me that I should be, too. When she died, I returned to Tywyl Castle and my father and brother, but they were strangers. The only people who showed me any measure of attention were the servants and my father’s men.
I realize that is not how most young women grow up, but that was my life. It was my life up until yesterday.”
“Go on, my lady,” Christopher said softly.
She was trying to, but her confusion was making her doubt everything she’d always believed in, and that bewilderment came across in her manner.
“Lord Hereford, when you and I first spoke yesterday, you were honest,” she said.
“You were not particularly kind at times, but you were honest. More than that, you treated me with respect. I thought you were viewing my royal blood as a prize, something to be used and bartered with, but it occurred to me later that you were simply showing me respect because of my father. Am I wrong in this?”
Christopher shook his head. “You are not wrong,” he said. “You are a Welsh princess, my lady. I am sorry if no one has ever shown you the respect you deserve.”
“But that’s just it,” she said, becoming emotional.
“You have all shown me respect, and even though I am your prisoner, I have never had anyone be as kind to me as you and Sir Curtis have been. The food, the soap, the bath, the clothing… It seems so inconsequential, but it isn’t.
No one in my entire life has been as kind to me as you have, and it made me suspicious.
I was suspicious of your motives. But the truth is that the life I’ve had is not one I should be mourning if the only people who ever showed me kindness were the men who defeated me in battle. Does that make sense?”
Christopher nodded faintly. “It does,” he said. “In spite of what you have been taught, the English are not all bad.”
“Nay, they are not,” she said quickly. “But the innate evil of the English is something that has been etched into me. Hatred is in my brain and in my heart, yet you have all been so kind to me. It is horribly confusing because I cannot reconcile this hatred I am expected to feel. Is there such a world where I should actually befriend my enemy?”
Christopher smiled. “We would like that, very much,” he said. “As Curtis’ wife, you have a very important role, one that will bring you love and respect if you will only not be suspicious of it. We want to like you, my lady.”
Elle hung her head. “He said he is going to annul the marriage,” she said miserably.
“He does not wish to be married to me, and I do not blame him. He has tried so hard to be kind, and all I have done is mistrust his motives. He called me petty and foolish, and he is right. I am. But he has made me think very carefully on what kind of life I want—do I want to go back to living in rags and in damp castles or the forests, rebelling against the English and living a life of ineffective transiency? Or do I want to live a life where my husband and his family are kind to me, even if they are English? Can I help Wales that way? Whatever happens, I will always be Welsh, but I do not always have to hate. I understand that much.”
Christopher’s eyes glimmered with warmth. “I would say that is a very big step in your progress, my lady,” he said. “The fact that you are even asking these questions means you are seeing a new perspective.”
“Mayhap,” she said. “But Sir Curtis has told me to be gone by morning. I do not know the man well, but I suspect he means it.”
“He probably did at the time, but I would wager to say that he regrets it now,” Peter said. “I know my brother, my lady. He can be more forgiving than most. But you do not know this, so you should be aware of what kind of man he is. Shall I tell you?”
Elle looked at the blond man with the intense, dark eyes. “I think I know a little about him,” she said. “His behavior since yesterday shows me that he has understanding and patience. But I would like to know more.”
“Like what?” Peter asked.
“For example, must he always win an argument?”
Peter and Alexander burst out laughing. “That is a de Lohr trait,” Peter said. “Curt does not always have to win an argument, but he usually does because he is usually right. I think if you look back on the conversations you have had with him, you will agree with me.”
Elle was reluctant to admit it, but she forced herself.
Her guard was down, and it didn’t matter if she admitted Curtis had been correct, in every way.
Even so, it was kicking and screaming, metaphorically speaking, all the way.
For a woman of considerable pride, it was a difficult thing for her to acknowledge it.
“I did not say he was wrong,” she said. “I just asked if he had to win every single argument. He seems to be a man with all of the answers.”
“He is,” Peter said. “But he is also humble, quiet at times, and more focused and driven than anyone you will ever meet. Curtis is a man of war, my lady. That is what he knows, and that is what he does well. He is meticulous, he is clever, and he is educated. He also has a great deal of patience, as you have noted.”
Elle sighed heavily. “I have pushed him beyond his endurance,” she said. “I do not suppose he would be forgiving.”
“I think he probably already has.”
“Then why does he not come back?” she asked. “Will he truly stay away all night?”
Peter shrugged. “If you had just had an argument with your husband and he exasperated you, would you stay away all night just to make him sick with worry, so sick that he would forgive any quarrel he had with you?”
Elle’s eyes widened. “Is that what he is doing?” she said. “Making it so I will be remorseful?”
Christopher held up a hand before the conversation veered out of control, because he didn’t want the lady to think Curtis was playing games somehow.
“He went away so he would not say anything he could not take back,” he said.
“He is staying away to cool his temper, which can be fearsome when aroused. Did he say where he was going?”
Elle nodded her head. “He said that he was going into Presteigne.”
“Then I will fetch him,” Peter said, standing up. “It should not take too—”
“Nay,” Elle said, standing up quickly. “You must not go. He will think I have run to his brothers and father to shame him for leaving. Please do not go.”
“She is right,” Christopher said, waving a hand at Peter. “Sit back down. I fear it will only make him more furious if you find him and try to bring him back. The only person who should bring him back is the lady.”
Elle nodded. “It started with me,” she said. “It should also end with me. Do you think he meant the nearest English town?”
Christopher nodded. “That would be my guess,” he said. “Peter can escort you there. You will bring him back, my lady.”
She nodded, but her courage was wavering. “What should I say?”
Christopher shrugged. “That is up to you,” he said.
“But telling him what you told us is a good start. And if it matters… I think Curt has married a strong lady. If you are willing to learn and grow, you will make a fine wife and a fine countess. You can do much more for your people in such a position than you can fighting like a rebel.”
Elle thought on that. “Mayhap,” she said. “But I never thought I would have the opportunity to be something other than what I am.”
Christopher smiled at her. “It is a grand opportunity that few have,” he said, but he quickly sobered at the look on her face.
“I know it is not what you expected or how you planned that your life should be, but here we are. You must make the best of it. Fetch your husband, Lady Leominster. Let your new life begin.”
The words were very true. Elle was coming to think that the English warlords were far more reasonable and wise than she’d been told. Her experience with them had been different from anything her grandmother or even her father’s soldiers had mentioned, and that had her questioning everything.
What if my grandmother was wrong?
Peter was waiting for her by the tent opening.
He had a cloak in his hand, though she had no idea where he got it.
Politely, he offered it to her, but rather than let him put it on her shoulders, as a fine lady would have, she took it from him and put it on herself.
She was an independent lass with no idea how to be proper, but somehow, it was rather endearing.
With a grin, Peter followed her out into the night.
Curtis was somewhere out there, waiting.
Elle was going to find him.