Chapter Nineteen #2
His words were kind and she wanted to believe him.
In fact, it made her take another look at the man.
He’d always been polite in any contact they’d ever had, and it hadn’t been for show.
She was coming to suspect that was simply his nature.
But according to her father, he’d not told the man about Trenton because he didn’t feel it was necessary.
Since Ranse and Lysabel would be starting a new relationship, the ghost of Trenton hanging over it could only do harm and, in a sense, Lysabel understood.
If she wanted Ranse to know about it, then she would tell him.
But the truth was that Trenton’s ghost was already hanging over them, like it or not. It was smothering her, attached to her, and keeping a barrier between her and Ranse. For now, it was a barrier no man could penetrate.
Lysabel suspected it would always be that way.
“Aye,” she finally said. “He is my champion, too. Were it not for Trenton, I would still be enduring my hell. Since my father told you of my past, I will not elaborate. Know that it is not something I wish to speak of, so I would appreciate it if you would not bring it up. It is a painful subject, as you can imagine.”
Ranse nodded quickly. “Indeed, I can, and I will not speak of it again.” His gaze lingered on her a moment, as if there was much he wanted to say, but didn’t want to upset her.
In truth, he wanted to comfort her. “I simply wanted you to know that our marriage will be much different. I was married before, as I mentioned to you that day in the garden, and my wife was not only my spouse, she was a great friend. I had the utmost respect for her. It is not in my nature to treat a woman as anything other than someone to be cherished and protected.”
More kind words. Lysabel was almost coming to feel sorry for the man, for he had no idea that she had no interest in him.
Perhaps, she should have told him the truth, but she didn’t see any need.
It was that dignity that Trenton had seen in her from the beginning, that woman who kept her troubles to herself to spare others the pain and suffering of them.
Ranse was genuinely trying to be kind and she didn’t want to tell him that all the kindness in the world wasn’t going to bring him any affection on her part.
Perhaps the best he could ever hope for with his new wife was a polite formality.
Her heart would always belong to another.
“You have been taught well,” she said. “Did you have parents who set a good example for you, then?”
He shook his head. “Nay,” he said, an ironic twist of the lips.
“My mother died when I was young and my father never remarried. I have two older brothers who are constantly trying to kill each other, but as the battles were going on when I was younger, I spent much time with one of my father’s knights, a man who was married to a woman for many years.
They had no children, but he treated her with the greatest respect.
He said women were precious and needed to be tended gently.
I… I suppose that has always stayed with me, because when I married my wife, I tended her gently up until the day she died. ”
Lysabel could sense that the man had a tender heart and her pity for him grew.
He seemed genuinely likable, and she knew her father had a good deal of faith in him, so under any other circumstances this would have been welcome match.
She was truly sorry that she had no interest at all, and even sorrier that she had no choice in the matter.
She feared that she would come to resent this kind, gentle knight.
“I am sorry for your wife’s passing,” she said. “Having given birth to two children of my own, I know what a frightening and exciting experience it can be.”
“And you will know that experience again very soon, I am told,” he said softly, smiling weakly when she looked at him in shock. “Aye, your father told me of the child you carry. Have no fear, I will love the babe as if he or she were my own flesh and blood.”
He was too good to be true and something in Lysabel snapped.
He was too kind and she felt what her father had done to him was so very wrong.
They were all wronging him. Standing up, she made her way over to the lancet window overlooking the bailey, the one where she’d been watching Trenton form the escort.
Looking from the window, she could see that they were all still there.
Feeling sad, and frustrated, she turned in Ranse’s direction.
“De Troyes, it seems to me that you deserve better than what this situation has brought to you,” she said. “Did my father tell you why I have no desire to remarry?”
Ranse shook his head, but he looked at her curiously. “Other than the fact that this is all rather sudden and you do not know me?”
So that’s what he thinks it is, she thought to herself.
Sounds from the bailey were wafting in through the window and she turned to see Trenton as he moved among the horses that had been brought out.
She could see the sun gleaming off of his dark head.
Oddly enough, the more she watched him, the more she came to feel as if holding on to him would be futile.
The situation between them, for the most part, was over.
It was strange, really. There wasn’t just a wall and her father separating them; there was a marriage and his wife.
For the first time, she was coming to understand just how much of a barrier that was, whereas only minutes earlier, she hadn’t cared.
The truth was that she did care, and she cared enough to know that, at some point, she would want to be Lady de Russe and it was something Trenton could never give her.
To be a man’s wife… she’d seen how her own parents behaved with each other, and being Lady Wellesbourne, for her mother, gave the woman a sense of pride and status. It was more than the love of a man. It was knowing he loved her enough to give her his name.
That had been the example set for her.
Perhaps now, she was coming to realize that it meant more to her than she realized. Respect and protect is what de Troyes had said. She could tell he’d meant it.
Then perhaps this betrothal, as her father had hoped, was the best choice, after all.
“Aye,” she said belatedly to his statement. “This is all rather sudden. So much of my life has been in turmoil as of late. But… but I hope to move forward and I hope to heal. Your patience is appreciated.”
Ranse stood up, a smile on his lips. “I can be as patient as you need me to be, for as long as you need me to be. May… may I call upon you again tonight to see how you are feeling?”
It was a sweet question, but everything in her screamed denial. “Not tonight, please,” she said. “Tomorrow… tomorrow would be acceptable.”
If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it. “Thank you, my lady,” he said. “Now, with your permission, I shall go to the stables and prepare those two frothing beasts for your daughters to ride.”
Lysabel simply nodded. She was about to say something more, a forced polite acknowledgement, when commotion in the bailey caught her attention.
Turning to the window, she could see two men charging in through the open gates, scattering soldiers and others in the bailey because they were moving so fast.
In fact, it was enough of a commotion that Ranse came to stand next to her, seeing that the bailey was in some kind of chaos because of the two reckless riders. Cocking an eyebrow of disapproval, and perhaps concern, he turned for the solar door.
“You will excuse me, my lady,” he said. “It seems we have visitors.”
Lysabel didn’t reply. Her attention was still on the bailey, where the two knights had pulled their horses to a halt and had bailed from them, pushing through the de Russe escort until they came to Trenton.
She could clearly see Trenton as he engaged the men in a discussion, but because of the armor and helms the men wore, she couldn’t see who they were.
It never occurred to her that Dane de Russe and Cort de Russe had made an appearance.