Chapter Two #3
“Thank God she’s gone,” he muttered, tossing the cup she drank from off the table and hunting around for another one. “I am sorry she forced herself upon you.”
“Why? She was good conversation.”
“What did she say?”
Isabeth shrugged. “Nothing of note,” she said.
“She asked where I was from and how long we had been married. She asked if we had any children and I avoided giving her an answer. I did not want to tell her of the child in my belly, for it is none of her affair. It is our secret, Dyce, and no one else’s.
At least until we can no longer keep it a secret. ”
He couldn’t disagree. “Did she say anything else?”
“She told me that she had three daughters.”
Dyce found another cup and poured himself a full measure. “And not one of them belongs to her husband,” he muttered. When he saw the shocked look on Isabeth’s face, he was immediately regretful. “I am sorry, my sweet. Please… do not repeat that.”
Isabeth frowned. “I will not,” she said. “But what do you mean? You’ve never spoken of Ronan’s wife. I only knew he had one because, as you have said, I met her once, long ago. What is this disdain you show for her, Dyce?”
Dyce pulled her chair closer to him and away from Ronan so the man hopefully wouldn’t overhear. “I do not speak of her because she is not worth the breath out of my mouth,” he said. “There has never been a more disloyal, repugnant wife in the history of history.”
“Why? Tell me.”
“Because those two never should have married,” he said, his voice low as he lifted his chin in Ronan’s direction. “They only married because Marian seduced him and her father forced Ronan to marry her. That is the worst reason of all.”
Isabeth thought that sounded rather sad. “I am sorry to hear that,” she said. “I know you hold Ronan in great esteem. I am sorry his marriage is not a happy one.”
Dyce snorted. “Happy?” he repeated as if outraged at the mere suggestion. “Marian de Wolfe does not let something like a marriage slow her down. She has had more men in her bed than a London prostitute and her daughters are not Ronan’s children.”
Isabeth gasped at the thought. “Truly?”
“Truly,” Dyce said, eyeing Ronan to ensure the man didn’t hear him.
“Ronan let her seduce him in a moment of weakness and it has cost him everything. Now, he turns his back as his wife beds lotharios from France, men who take Ronan’s money from his very own wife. Truly, ’tis a mess, Beth. Poor Ronan.”
Shocked, Isabeth found herself looking at Ronan through new eyes.
That handsome, charming knight had a dark secret, or perhaps not so much a secret if Dyce was gossiping about it.
Marian had all but disappeared and Isabeth wondered if it was because she was off finding lotharios in full view of her husband.
It was a rather shocking thought.
“But why doesn’t he stop her?” she hissed. “He is her husband and he can stop her – can’t he?”
Dyce shrugged. “It is complicated,” he said. “She’s a de Grey, one of the most powerful political houses in the north. On the other hand, he’s a de Wolfe, one of the most powerful military families in the north, so there is a great risk of creating political upheaval should he offend her family.”
Isabeth frowned. “Should he offend her family?” she repeated, aghast. “From what you have told me, she is the one creating the issue. She should be concerned with offending the House of de Wolfe, I would think. Do they not have bigger armies?”
“Indeed, they do,” Dyce said. “De Wolfe could easily crush de Grey, but de Grey is very powerful, politically. It is a very difficult situation and I suspect Ronan has been counseled to look the other way to avoid a massive upheaval.”
“Is he a negligent husband, then? Is that why she wanders?”
Dyce shook his head. “Not from what I have seen,” he said.
“Ronan is a good man, Beth. His heart is good and his soul is pure. He’s simply in a terrible situation, so do not judge him by it.
He was young when he married Marian and it was simply a mistake, one she punishes him with daily.
Women like Marian should never marry. They are a plague upon men of good faith. ”
Isabeth wanted to ask more about the situation, but Ronan turned in their direction and Dyce shut his mouth, at least for the moment. It would do no good for Ronan to hear him gossip about the state of his marriage, something he was sensitive about.
But something he pretended not to care about.
“Are you still here?” Ronan said to Dyce. “How can I coerce your wife into telling me deep and dark secrets about you if you are still here?”
Dyce flashed a grin. “She would never betray me so.”
“Then you do have deep and dark secrets.”
Dyce laughed, moving to pour himself more wine from the pitcher on the table.
“If I do, then she would know them all,” he said.
“Did I ever tell you that I met Isabeth when she was a young girl? About nine years of age, in fact. I was newly knighted and, even back then, she was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. ”
Ronan was smiling, looking between the pair. “So you have known each other a long time.”
“A very long time,” Dyce agreed. “She has been everything to me for a good deal of my life. I do not have a big family like you do, Roe. Beth is my family. All of it.”
“And you are a fortunate man,” Ronan said. “When you have children, you will be even more fortunate.”
Dyce eyed Isabeth, who gave him a little grin. They both liked and trusted Ronan, and Dyce was ready to burst with the news. “It is funny you should say that, my friend,” he said. “We are not telling anyone yet, so please do not repeat this, but Isabeth is with child.”
Ronan laughed with delight. “My best wishes to you both,” he said. “What wonderful news.”
“Thank you, it is.”
Ronan couldn’t help but chuckle at the prideful father and the blushing mother. “There is a great deal to think about now,” he said. “Children will change everything.”
Dyce flashed his teeth. “I hope they do,” he said. “We have been disappointed before, which is why we’ve not told anyone yet. When we are certain the child will be born safely, we will spread the news.”
Ronan lifted his shoulders. “That is understandable,” he said. “You must ensure your wife is well taken care of, of course. Do you have help for your wife when she delivers the child? You said you had no family and that is usually a job for female relatives.”
Dyce nodded. “We have a midwife,” he said. “Why? Are you offering up your female relatives?”
“If you need them.”
Dyce patted him on the side of the head. “That is very generous of you,” he said, looking at Isabeth. “We shall discuss it and if my wife would like women around her for comfort, then I shall send word.”
Ronan smiled at the lovely woman. “Please do,” he said. “I can send my mother and my sister at the very least, and probably more female cousins. I think my mother has delivered more babies than a midwife. Our family seems to keep having them.”
Dyce snorted. “That is because the House of de Wolfe gives birth in litters, not just one child,” he said. “How many cousins do you have again?”
Ronan lifted his eyebrows. “Too many to count,” he said. “My grandparents had nine children and many of those children have had multiple children. I think at last count, I had over seventy cousins. When I tell you that de Wolfe’s are all over the border, I was not jesting. We really are.”
Dyce looked at Isabeth, smiling as he did so.
“We hope to have dozens, as well,” he said.
Then, he caught sight of a great subtlety being brought out of the kitchens, a massive almond pudding shaped like a castle.
He immediately stood up. “I shall procure some of that for you, Beth. Roe, entertain my wife for a moment.”
With that, he dashed off, leaving Isabeth and Ronan watching him plow through the crowd to get to the dessert.
Isabeth laughed softly.
“He is quite determined to ensure I have some of that pudding,” she said. “Honestly, I do not even like almond milk. You would think he would remember that.”
Ronan grinned. “He is a good husband to you, my lady,” he said. “He is trying to do something nice.”
“He is,” Isabeth agreed. “And speaking of husbands, I met your wife earlier. She was very friendly.”
Ronan seemed to lose some of his humor. “I am glad, my lady.”
“Please,” Isabeth said, putting a soft hand on his arm. “Call me Isabeth. I told your wife to call me by my name also. It seems odd to be so formal with one another, especially when you are Dyce’s very favorite person.”
The warmth was back in his eyes. “I think you are his very favorite person.”
She smiled. “True,” she said. “But as far as men go, you are greatly admired by my husband. He does not make friends easily, so thank you for being kind and congenial with him. I have always wanted to thank you for that.”
Ronan shrugged. “Dyce and I have always gotten along,” he said. “We understand each other and that is important. But I will agree that he seems like a lonely man at times, which is strange because he is well-liked. No one can say a bad word about him.”
Isabeth could see Dyce in the distance, demanding a larger slice of the almond pudding. “He is a good man,” she said simply. “And I do hope you and your wife will visit us soon. Mayhap when the child is born. I am sure Dyce would like to celebrate the birth with his friends.”
Ronan dipped his head gratefully. “I would be honored,” he said. “You’re living at Ravenscar, are you not?”
Isabeth nodded. “We have been there for a few years, since Dyce’s father passed on,” she said. “It’s a rather big manse on the edge of the sea with an enormous herd of sheep. Dyce makes a very good Lord Farmer, by the way.”
Ronan chuckled. “I seem to remember hearing him say that, though he does not speak too much on the subject,” he said.
“I think he is concerned we might all think him a sheepherder rather than a knight, so all he speaks of are his days with your father at Briarfield and his days of fostering at Oakhampton Castle.”
“He holds the title of Lord Ravenscar, so he’s not completely a peasant.”
“I know. But we still make sheep noises at him once in a while.”
Isabeth giggled as Dyce appeared, bearing an enormous plate of almond pudding.
He set it down in front of his wife triumphantly, eager for her to take a bite.
Isabeth picked up her spoon, smiled wanly, and scooped up a small amount which she reluctantly put in her mouth.
That pleased Dyce immensely and he picked up his own spoon, taking a huge bite for himself.
He encouraged his wife to eat more than she wanted to and, not surprisingly, had to retire early from the feast with a bellyache.
Dyce returned her to their tent and waited until she went to sleep before returning to his friends and drinking the night away.
Tomorrow was going to be a victorious day.