Chapter Eleven #2
But the logical side of him couldn’t agree. Not even a little bit.
“Aye, you do deserve it,” he finally said. “And you do not think you could be happy with someone who could offer you a respectable marriage?”
She sniffled, now wiping at her nose. “Mayhap,” she said. “But I do not want anyone else.”
He tried to be gentle. “But you have fallen for the first man to show you some kindness, Lys. Trenton has been very kind to you so it is natural that you should feel something for him.”
Lysabel looked at him. “I am not a fool,” she said. “I would not fall for a man simply because he was kind to me. There is more to it than that.”
“And it is not something you could find with a decent man?”
She frowned. “Trenton is decent,” she said.
“I know what he does for the king and I know his father does not approve, but he told me he feels as if he is making a difference and that is why he serves Henry in that capacity. He likes it. Who are you to judge the man for what he feels strongly about?”
She was growing agitated, but Matthew remained calm. He didn’t want to fight with her. “I can only judge him based on his history,” he said. “Trenton is a killer, Lys. You know this.”
“And what are you? You are a great knight who has killed many men.”
“But what I do is different. I kill men in battle, or because they threaten me or my family or my way of life. Trenton kills because he is commanded to kill, ruthlessly. The men he kills are not his enemies, but Henry’s.”
She didn’t like what he was saying. “If Henry commanded you to kill one of his enemies tomorrow, would you deny him?”
“Not necessarily,” he said honestly.
“Then why is what Trenton does so terrible?”
Matthew sighed heavily; she couldn’t understand what he was trying to tell her and that was beginning to frustrate him.
“It is my duty, as your father, to protect you,” he said.
“I failed with Benoit but I shall not fail in the future. And it is my opinion that any romantic relationship with Trenton is not only hazardous, but immoral because the man is married. You can justify it any way you wish and tell me that he is unhappy in his marriage, but he is offering you nothing, Lysabel. He is offering you the position of being his mistress and when he tires of you, he will find someone else to fill that role. Are your morals so destroyed by Benoit’s treatment that you do not know what is right or wrong any longer? ”
Lysabel stared at her father. “Is that what you think? That I no longer know what is right and what is wrong?”
Matthew could see the hurt in her eyes. “What else am I to think?” he asked.
“That you would shame your family and yourself so terribly, what else am I to think, Lysabel? Do you think any of us will be able to hold our heads up when you become Trenton’s whore?
Your shame is shame for the entire family. ”
He couldn’t have done more damage had he beat her with his fists, for the feelings she had were the same. Whore. That’s what he’d called her, but even that word didn’t dampen her feelings in the matter. Verging on hurt, angry tears, Lysabel swallowed the lump in her throat.
“I cannot help what I feel,” she said hoarsely. “It has nothing to do with what is right or what is wrong, or knowingly bringing shame upon my family. I feel what is in my heart.”
Matthew wasn’t convinced she was thinking clearly and it only frustrated him.
“You are vulnerable and Trenton has preyed upon that,” he said.
“And what about your daughters? When it comes time to find them proper husbands, do you think any decent family is going to permit their sons to marry the daughters of a woman who is the mistress to an earl? Stop thinking of yourself and think of Cissy and Cinny. Think of what you are condemning them to.”
Lysabel couldn’t listen to him any longer. She stood up, turning towards the door. “I think you are being cruel and unjust,” she said. “You say that you want me happy, but that is not entirely true. You only want me happy so long as I am doing what you want me to do, and that is selfish.”
Matthew stood up, too. “That is not true,” he said quietly. “I want you to be happy, but I want you to realize the price for this happiness with Trenton.”
She paused by the door, her jaw ticking.
“Forgive me for not trusting you, Papa,” she said.
“The happiness you condemned me to was my hell for twelve years. You will forgive me for wanting to choose my own happiness from now on. Even if you do not approve of it, I ask that you not interfere. It is my choice now. You lost that leverage the first day Benoit beat me unconscious.”
With that, she yanked the door open, leaving Matthew feeling sick to his stomach.
Slowly, he sank back into his chair. Was she right?
Had he lost that right to choose what was best for her when he so badly misjudged Benoit?
All he wanted to do was protect her, to make sure she didn’t make another mistake that would ruin her life, this time ruining her reputation.
But she wouldn’t listen to him this time.
In fact, he doubted she would listen to anyone except the one person who had convinced her that her life as a mistress would be far better than anything else she’d known so far.
He loved Trenton like a son but, at this point, they were more like adversaries.
And like any good warrior, Matthew knew how to handle an adversary.
He would have to do what needed to be done in order to save his daughter.
He’d have to go to the source.
Rising from his chair once more, he went on the hunt for Trenton.
“Cissy, tighten up the reins,” Trenton said. “If you leave your reins too loose, then Snowdrop will want to run off.”
Brencis and Cynethryn were in the area near the stables once again, an open area where soldiers usually trained or gathered, but it had become the pony area because Trenton wouldn’t take the girls outside of the walls while they were still learning how to ride.
He and Matthew and several soldiers, including Markus, had taken them out once in the meadows, and Brencis had ended up on her arse.
That had frightened both Matthew and Trenton, so now the girls only rode inside and on mostly level ground until they could become more skilled.
All skill-learning aside, they were having the time of their lives.
Cynethryn was actually much more adept at riding her pony than Brencis was, who didn’t quite have the coordination and grace that her sister did.
While William, who had forgiven Trenton enough for his humiliation that he was now participating in the pony training, remained with Brencis so the little girl wouldn’t fall off again, Trenton set up a very small barrier and started jumping Cynethryn over it.
For Trenton, it had been bonding time to spend with the little girl who had been quite sullen and standoffish when they’d first met.
Since the day he’d purchased the pony for her, he’d watched the child come out of her shell.
She was still rather serious at times, but she laughed and talked with him now, whereas before, she wouldn’t.
Trenton was coming to think she was simply a serious child in general, but at least now there was a smile on her face from time to time.
And she was quite proud of learning how to jump her pony over the little barrier, a pride that grew as Trenton praised her.
“Trenton,” William said as he tended to Brencis. “What say that you and I put up some larger barriers and jump our horses over them? Let us see who can jump the highest.”
Trenton rolled his eyes. “Is everything a contest with you?” he asked. “First the swords, now this. Are you eager to be beaten again, Willie?”
William laughed. “I have three older brothers,” he said. “We are Wellesbournes. Competing with each other for domination is simply something we do. Ask my father.”
Trenton shook his head. “I have never seen your father demand that his sons compete against each other.”
“He does not. In fact, he discourages us. But there is something inside of us that begs us to triumph over one another. Call it the victory spirit!”
“I call it exhausting.”
“Then you will not pit your horse against mine? Afraid you might lose?”
Trenton cast him a wry expression. “My horse is not built for jumping,” he said. “I would not force him to do it. Besides, if that is the only way you can assert dominance over me, then go ahead. I will simply give you the victory.”
“You hurt my feelings, depriving me of my chance to beat you fairly.”
Trenton faced him, balled fists on his hips. “I am going to hurt your body if you do not stop harassing me,” he said. “Go, now. Pay attention to your niece before she falls off and breaks something. And if that happens, know my retribution shall be swift.”
William simply grinned at him, that cheeky gesture that prevented Trenton from truly becoming angry with him, and returned his attention to Brencis. Trenton turned back to Cynethryn, who had stopped her pony and was looking at the pony’s feet. Trenton went to her.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
Cynethryn climbed down from her pony all by herself and crouched down, looking at the pony’s legs. “I think she is hurt.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because she limps.”
Trenton took the pony by the reins and walked her in a circle to see if he could verify Cynethryn’s observations.
As soon as the pony started to move, he could see a definitive limp and he pulled the pony to a halt, crouching down beside it and running a practiced hand over the legs.
Cynethryn stood next to him, greatly concerned.
“Is she hurt?” she asked. “Did I hurt my pony?”
Trenton could feel a slightly swollen tendon in the right front leg. “She is not used to being ridden so much,” he said. “Her leg is injured, but not badly. She will need to rest it for a few days.”
Cynethryn’s face fell as she went to pet her pony. “I did not mean to hurt her.”