Chapter Six #3
“I am not asking you to leave,” Isabeth said.
“I have come to the unalterable conclusion that you will not leave until you feel your oath to my husband is fulfilled. But that same oath does not hold true to your wife. She made no pledge to Dyce and if we are being perfectly honest, I do not want her here. She is creating chaos during a time when I do not need it, my lord. I want her to go.”
Surprisingly, the tone wasn’t harsh or critical.
It was more a plea. Ronan had been standing with Christian, looking over a spectacular view of the sea beneath a full moon on a stunningly clear night, when Isabeth approached him on the battlements.
Christian quickly excused himself, leaving Isabeth alone with Ronan.
Before he could even greet her, she was laying out her case.
Pleading with him.
“I am sorry to hear this,” he said. “I had hoped that she would bring you some comfort. What, exactly, is she doing?”
Isabeth cocked her head. “You do not even know what your own wife is doing?”
“If I knew, I would not ask.”
Isabeth was trying very hard not to launch into an angsty tirade. Her search for Ronan had taken some time, during which she had seen one of Marian’s women in the great hall as she snatched something from a servant. But that was all she saw and it was enough.
She wanted Ronan to do something about it.
“Her women are rude and demanding,” she said.
“I have a feeling you know exactly what I mean. They demand the best rooms, the best meals, and when my servants do not move fast enough to their liking, they slap them. I know you had hoped she would be of some comfort and I appreciate your effort, but she is creating chaos in my world and I want her out of it.”
Ronan sighed faintly. Truth be told, he had been following his own tasks that day and, as usual, he simply ignored his wife and whatever she was doing.
He never paid any attention to her, so he had no idea what the woman and her two haughty ladies were up to even though he should have suspected.
Marian had complained to him about the rooms she had been assigned and he’d ignored her complaints.
Therefore, he wasn’t surprised to hear that she was creating problems.
And he was embarrassed.
“I see,” he finally said, his voice quiet with resignation. “I am truly sorry, Lady de Brito. I thought she might settle down and be a good companion. Unfortunately, I had no choice but to bring her. I hope you understand that.”
Isabeth could hear the distress in his voice, but it was more than that.
There was a coldness when he spoke of his wife, something she had noticed before.
Though she hadn’t really seen the pair together except on the journey to Ravenscar and the first night of the Middlesbrough tournament, her experience was enough to know that there was a complete disconnect between them.
He didn’t speak to her and she didn’t speak to him.
They preferred to go on as if the other one didn’t exist.
That kind of marriage baffled her.
She could see that Ronan was genuinely regretful.
But she couldn’t help sense that he was trying to pretend everything was well between him and his wife.
He’d brought her along, like a dutiful husband, so he wouldn’t be completely alone with a new widow.
It suddenly occurred to Isabeth that it was the exact reason he’d brought his wife along – to protect Isabeth’s reputation.
Nothing would be worse than gossips whispering about a new widow and a married knight.
That being the case, then the woman’s presence was… necessary.
Now, she was starting to see it.
“I do understand,” she said after a moment, her stiff stance relaxing.
“Believe me, I do. But she is creating turmoil and if she will not behave herself, then I must ask that you both leave. And no amount of honor-bound pleading is going to change my mind. I understand that you cannot remain alone with me, as it would be improper, so if she cannot behave, then you must both leave. This is creating strife and disorder that makes a terrible situation worse. I need peace and your wife is not allowing me to find it.”
Ronan knew that. From the expression on his face, he’d known it all along. “Then I will find her and tell her so,” he said. “Please accept my apologies.”
Isabeth shook her head. “There is no need for you to apologize,” she said. “If there is one thing I have learned about you, it is that your intentions are true. You are determined to do the honorable thing. This is simply one of those difficult situations.”
His gaze lingered on her in the moonlight. “You are very understanding,” he said. “That is an excellent quality.”
She shrugged. “Whatever I am, I learned it from Dyce,” she said. “He was very patient and understanding. And… and I believe I owe you my gratitude for something else. I was told that you have already seen the priests at St. Mary’s?”
The subject shifted and Ronan nodded his head. “I did,” he said. “While you were sleeping, my cousin and I went into the village to speak to the priests. We selected a burial spot next to the altar. I hope that is agreeable.”
“Very agreeable,” Isabeth said. “Thank you for taking the initiative.”
“It was no trouble.”
A brief silence followed, but it wasn’t awkward.
The conversation had become soft, almost gentle between them.
None of the irritation Isabeth had been feeling when she had first come to the battlements.
That stubborn, determined knight she’d been butting heads with was a man with problems, just like everyone else.
But in his case, it happened to be his wife.
A highborn woman who shamed him and treated him like the dirt beneath her feet.
Isabeth had heard about it before she ever really became acquainted with Ronan and now that she’d spent time around him and his wife, she could clearly see that the rumors were true.
In truth, she felt a little sorry for him.
That had her stance towards him softening just the slightest.
“Have you heard it yet?” she asked, turning her attention out to sea.
Ronan had been looking at her, now distracted by her question. “Heard what?” he asked.
Isabeth pulled her shawl more tightly about her shoulders. “The Koloss,” she said as the breeze lifted the tendrils around her face. “The devil of the sea. He’s out there, you know, waiting to snatch unsuspecting men and drag them to their doom.”
Ronan stared at her for a moment before grinning. It was an unexpected turn in the conversation but a welcome one. “Ah,” he said. “That Koloss. Nay, I’ve not heard him. Does he speak often?”
Isabeth fought off a grin. “Often enough,” she said.
“The men in these parts tend to be a very superstitious group. They believe in sea monsters and trolls and demons who feast on the flesh of men. There is a particular group of younger soldiers in Dyce’s army who are very superstitious.
They wear talismans, among other things, so sometimes Dyce would go down to the lower part of the manse, the area that faces the sea, and call up to the men when they were on sentry duty.
He would growl and hiss and tell them that he was the Koloss.
Then he would laugh so hard that he would nearly choke. ”
Ronan started laughing at the mental picture of Dyce playing tricks on his own men. “That is a wicked man who would do such a thing,” he said. “But I love him all the more for it.”
Isabeth was giggling, too. “It was quite dastardly,” she said. “He would do it every time they had the night watch and they never caught on.”
“Never?”
“Never!” she insisted. “He would tell them to do things like hit each other in the nose or go down into the bailey and spin circles, and everyone thought they were mad. It was the source of great humor for Dyce and his sergeants.”
“And me,” Ronan said, his eyes twinkling. “I fear that I must carry on that tradition. You will tell me when those men are on duty again and I shall do the same thing.”
Isabeth snorted. “Who is wicked now?”
Ronan put up both hands in surrender. “I never said I was a perfect angel,” he said. “There are some traditions worth keeping. This is one of them.”
Isabeth eyed him, still smiling. “You will not teach my son this tradition.”
Ronan hung his head, laughing softly. “If he is anything like his father, I will not need to,” he said. Then, he eyed her more closely. “Speaking of your son, you are not properly dressed to be out in the cold like this. Let me escort you back inside.”
Isabeth waved him off. “No need,” she said. “I will go now. But about Lady de Wolfe…”
The humor between them quickly faded as they reverted to that unhappy subject. Ronan put up a placating hand. “I will speak with her immediately,” he said. “You needn’t worry.”
Isabeth didn’t want to contradict him, but given the behavior she’d seen from Marian, she wasn’t entirely sure that was true.
“Thank you,” she said. But she paused and looked him in the eyes.
“However, I am serious, Ronan. If she continues to behave poorly, you must both leave. I do not need the additional distress.”
She used his Christian name, indicative of how truthful she was being, and he nodded solemnly. “I know,” he said quietly.
“This is a situation wrought with strife already. I do not need the addition of a lady who cannot behave herself.”
“I understand.”
“I hope you do.”
With that, she left the battlements but Ronan followed anyway, going down the narrow spiral stairs before her and steadying her as she took the steps.
They reached the bottom together and he forced a smile, dipping his head at her politely before heading off, presumably to find Marian.
But he was heading in the direction of the great hall and knowing that Marian was in the manse the last she had heard, Isabeth headed back to the manse.
She had an idea.