Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Istared at my husband, oblivious of Sir Roger’s presence until he released my arm, took his leave, and closed the door behind him. Vane continued to focus his eyes on me, the anger in their expression only intensifying.
“You’re dead!” I cried. “De Tourrard told me he tore out your heart. He showed it to me!”
“He lied.”
“But you let me believe it! You heard me pour my heart out to another while you hid like a coward in the dark. Did what I say give you satisfaction?”
He shook his head, his eyes blazing.
“What right have you to be angry with me?” I screamed. Drawing my free hand into a fist, I pummeled him on the chest. He stood still as stone, weathering the blows until, at last, I relented, sobbing in frustration at his lack of reaction. Then he drew me to him.
“I am not angry with you cherie,” he said quietly.
“You deceived me.”
“I had to convince my overlord that you were a worthy choice and not a traitor; that you do not seek to secure your position by manipulating yourself into his household. In marrying you without his permission, I did him a grave insult.”
“’Twas your choice, not mine! Or does your memory serve you so poorly you forget that you took me unwilling? Is de Beauvane’s opinion of women even lower than yours, or merely his opinion of me?”
I struggled against his arms, but he only tightened his hold.
“I freely admit my opinion of women,” he said. “They are impelled by a desire to further themselves in the world by seduction and betrayal. Too often have I seen it. But you, sweetling, are different. Your actions are driven by love, as mine have been.”
I shook my head, “Nay.”
He cupped my chin in his hand. “Aye, Lisetta. I heard your words to my brother that night, the admission of sins you had not committed. You condemned yourself as an unfit mother so that Lily would take your child, and you risked your life to warn us. Was that not an act of love?”
“Mayhap,” I said bitterly, “but as for your actions…is not one whore easily replaced by another? Did you not say those very same words to Celia, before taking me for yourself?”
He loosened his hold and pushed me away. I could almost hear my heart rip in two. I turned my back, reached for the door, and pressed my forehead against the wood. He remained silent, and I turned the handle, wanting nothing but to leave with the pieces of my shattered soul.
“Stay, damn you!”
The angry demand only served to fragment my heart further.
“Why should I stay?” I turned to face him, my voice cold. The mask slipped into place once more—my only defense against him.
He placed a hand on the door either side of me, imprisoning me with his arms.
“Because you pledged to obey me.”
“Aye, I did,” I snarled. “Your whores may do as they please, but your wife is bound to you by law and by the church.”
The door jerked as he smashed his fist against it. He brought his face close to mine, the intensity of the anger and pain in his eyes rendering me immobile.
“Satan’s bones, woman!” he said through gritted teeth, “do you want me to beg? Will that give you satisfaction?”
I shook my head, unwilling to trust myself to speak, blinking away the moisture in my eyes.
“Nevertheless, I will.”
He took my hands in his own, tenderly caressing my palms with his thumbs.
My body tightened with a mixture of fear and yearning at the feel of his skin against mine.
His gentle touch destroyed my defenses, releasing the tears which rolled unchecked down my face until I tasted salt and desolation on my lips.
Slowly, he lowered himself onto his knees, his eyes never leaving mine. He circled his arms around my waist and drew me to him.
“Lisetta, do not leave me,” he said. “I cannot live without you. Forgive me, my love. Forgive my deception. I wanted you to love me, but I was willing to remain dead in your eyes so you could be free to find love with another, if that’s what you wished. That is why I remained hidden.”
“Vane…”
“No, let me tell all. From the moment I saw you I wanted you, but only when you cried out in the dark that night I first took you did I understand the depth of my desire. I knew then that I could love you. Every action I undertook since, was to ensure your protection.”
“But you treated me…”
“…so cruelly, sweetling, I know. I bear great shame for my actions toward you, but I was so proud of your strength. You carried yourself with dignity and bore your burden at Mortlock more bravely than any man. I only saw glimpses of your inner feelings when we were alone at night, or during the day when others showed you compassion. Percy and Harwyn…you suffered for the kindness they showed you.”
I flinched at the memory of their deaths. Vane looked up at me, his eyes laden with vulnerability and, unmistakably, for the first time, love.
“Tell me honestly, my love, had I been openly kind to you, had you known the depth of my love…would you have had the resolve to withstand Mortlock’s treatment and conceal your feelings?
” He shook his head and sighed. “Had you acted inappropriately Mortlock would have had you killed. I did what was necessary to prevent it.”
“But you treated me like a whore!”
“Believe me, I had no wish to. Your fate was sealed the day you married Mortlock. You were to be given to any number of men of my choice, to be mounted like a mare in heat, then discarded after you served your purpose. I could not bear to give you to others so I took you for myself. I wish I could have treated you more kindly. You may have suffered at my hands but the alternatives were not to be borne.”
“You were so cold,” I whispered.
“We both had a role to play,” he said. “De Beauvane had secured my position to gain Mortlock’s trust. It gave me no pleasure to treat you wish coldness.
As for lying with you—cherie, you must forgive the weaknesses of a mortal man.
I wanted you. I still do. Devil take me, woman, I crave you so much I could die from it. ”
He dipped his head and kissed my hand.
“But ’twas not merely the needs of the flesh that drew me to you, my love,” he said. “I saw and understood your courage. I had no wish for you to be entirely friendless. As Tarvin I was able to give you hope, the ability to nourish the strength from within you to endure the events to come.”
“Why did you never tell me you were Tarvin?” I cried. “Why did you let me think he had died, that I had lost a friend?”
“Lisetta, you loved him and hated me,” he said.
“You cried his name when I took you. To reveal that the man who gave you such hope was an illusion created by a man you hated—I couldn’t do that to you.
And yet, even though you hated me, I saw such tenderness in you that captured my heart.
You tended to my wound with such care. Woman, you even saved my life.
To see you in that forest, soaked to the skin, heavy with child, brandishing your knife, prepared to defend me against another!
Your eyes were full of courage—how I loved you at that moment!
I began to hope you might grow to love me. ”
“I did grow to love you, Vane,” I whispered, “though it brought me no joy. Outside the confines of Mortlock Fort I saw something of the man behind the mask, how you treated Jack and Lily with love. Yet you turned such unfriendly eyes toward me. You believed me a whore—a seducer of your brother—though it was you who went out whoring.”
“Was that why you left me?”
His accusation stung.
“Could you blame me?” I said. “I could bear it no longer. I wanted my son to be like you, but I did not want him to be brought up to despise me as you did. Selfish I may have been, Vane, but if I could not have your love, then by leaving you I could ensure that I would at least have Geoffrey’s.”
“Yet you risked your life to return to Balsdean.”
“Only to ensure Geoffrey’s safety. When I realized that I would never be free of de Tourrard, all I had left in my power to do was ensure that Geoffrey would not have to endure him.”
Vane sighed, “’Tis as Jack thought. He said I was a fool to let you go.
He persuaded me to look for you after he saw your letter to Tarvin.
It was a name I often adopted when spying for de Beauvane—a silly made up name from our childhood—a play on the letters of my own name.
Valentine Sawford became Tarvin de Fowensal.
I was angry and jealous, seeing the easy friendship between you and Jack.
Lily told me that you had claimed the babe you carried was another’s.
I thought you had spoken out of hatred for me. ”
I shook my head, “Nay, Vane. I spoke out of love. Lily loved you as a sister. She had great faith in your goodness, and I couldn’t bear to shatter that faith.
I handed Geoffrey to them because I wanted him to grow up in a loving family.
After Maman died there was no love in my life.
I grew cold and unloving in order to survive. I wanted no such life for our son.”
“Oh, Lisetta!” Vane’s voice wavered with emotion.
“You are neither cold nor unloving. I know what you have suffered in the name of love. Lady Beauvane has shown me. I have seen with my own eyes what you have endured on my behalf and to protect our son. My greatest wish is that you had not killed de Tourrard yourself. As your husband, lover, and protector, it was my duty.”
He drew me down to kneel with him and took my face in his hands.
“I tried to find you after you left, Lisetta,” he said.
“I bitterly regret what I said to you. I visited no whores, my love. I wanted to hurt you, to make you as jealous as I was, and I thought that making you believe I had lain with others would achieve that. But it did not ease my pain, for I only succeeded in losing you. After you gave Geoffrey to Jack and Lily, I told them to leave Balsdean, but I stayed behind to look for you. I discovered where they held you but they spotted me. I tried again when Shoreton was besieged. I was among the first who broke into the bailey, but I couldn’t fight through.
A man stopped me…” He hesitated, his eyes darkening.
“Forgive me, Lisetta for not being able to free you.”
A man stopped me…
“Papa,” I whispered. “That was you at Shoreton—you who killed him?”
“Aye. Forgive me.”
I shook my head. “You need no forgiveness. ’Tis a sin to say, but you delivered his due reward for what he did to Maman. But he injured your arm. I saw you fall.”
“It heals,” he said, a smile forming on his lips, “but your concern pleases me.”
He leaned forward to brush his lips against mine but before I could kiss him back, he pulled away. I shivered at the sense of loss.
“Vane…”
“Hush, sweetling, I must first ask you something.”
He caressed my cheeks with his thumbs and brought his face close until I could see nothing but his beautiful eyes.
That vivid blue had comforted me during my nightmares.
It had not been Maman’s ghost watching over me in the darkness, but someone living, someone who loved me just as much, if not more than she did.
“I would ask you to be my wife,” he said.
“B-but, I am already.”
“Aye, but now I ask you openly, as I dreamed of doing when first I looked into your eyes, kneeling before you as a man in love.”
I hesitated, and he drew me to him, kissing me on the lips. “Do not fear love, ma cherie, it can bring you joy if you let it. My heart is yours—yours alone, and forever.”
My heart burst with love and I lifted my hands to his, smiling through the tears.
“Ah, my love,” he said gently, “’tis the first time I have seen you smile for me, and I would not have your beauty marred by tears.”
“They are tears of joy, husband.”
“Then you will have me?”
“I will gladly give myself to you.”
He kissed me again and I melted into his embrace.
I offered him my lips and sighed into his mouth as his tongue begged entrance.
I responded with my own tongue, drawing him into a slow, sensual dance.
I gloried in the taste of him, the taste of wine, spices and man, a heady cocktail that obliterated my senses.
I was completely at his mercy, but I willingly yielded to him.
After a long journey I had finally reached my home.