Chapter 2 #3
She had thought time would mend the gaping wound she had dealt to both their hearts the day she had cast him away…had hoped against hope that he might heal, even if he could not forgive.
But he had not healed, any more than she had.
She could see that now. The bitter truth of it had been there like a blade in her heart as soon as their gazes had met but a few moments past. She had been swept up in the storms raging in his eyes, knowing she would have to make peace with that if her mother and cousin managed to convince him to stay.
Aye, that and much more.
Silence settled over the chamber, and Alissende realized that the explanations were finished at last. Damien stood, silent and motionless as before, except for the shallow, even breaths he took. When at last he spoke, it was in a voice that sounded hoarse from restrained emotion.
“Thwarting Lord Harwick seems to be a necessary action, if all you have told me is true, but I still fail to understand why I must be the one to undertake it.” He made a sound of disbelief.
“There are skillful warriors aplenty throughout England, and many titled noblemen besides who would consider themselves blessed beyond measure to wed a young, widowed heiress such as—” He stopped short, inclining his head slightly as he finished, “—such as your daughter. Why did you not seek out one of them?”
Alissende felt the jab, not only of his carefully worded insult but also of his deliberate omission of her name. He had not uttered it even once this day, she realized of a sudden, and it cut her to the quick.
“Because we were in France when it became clear that extreme measures must be taken to prevent Hugh from seizing Alissende by force,” Lady Blanche said, not unkindly.
“And so were you, in dire circumstances of your own. It seemed an honorable exchange: your life for Alissende’s safety.
More importantly, you are not a stranger to us.
What we knew of you was in your favor, and so the proxy was created to make you Alissende’s husband. ”
“You must have been truly desperate, then,” Damien answered darkly, “for it is no secret that I was judged to be deficient for that role five years ago. Naught about me has changed since that time, except for the worse—for now in addition to being a poor and landless knight, I am also a tarnished former Templar and an accused heretic to boot. If the feigned Writ of Absolution you have procured for me is discovered, then I and anyone connected to me will be subject to arrest and interrogation.”
He laughed again, a joyless, sharp sound. “Nay, I am not the man for this duty. Seek another, for I intend to serve no master but myself and am bound for the freedom of Scotland to sell my skills to the highest bidder as a mercenary knight. I have naught to offer anyone as a husband.”
He seemed as if he might glance to Alissende then, but he appeared to stiffen in the act, preventing himself at the last moment. “If there is no more to this than what you have told me, then,” he continued, “I will needs—”
“If you must know the full truth of it,” Alissende interrupted, forcing his gaze to her at last, “you were chosen of all men, Damien, because you are the one man of all who once loved me.” Heat filled her cheeks with the admission, but she was bolstered by the steadying dose of irritation that had finally begun to seep through her embarrassment and despondency; it allowed her to tip her chin enough so that she could meet his stare head-on as she said, “That is no secret either, is it?”
The shadowy array of emotions that swept across his face in the charged silence that followed might have made any other woman sink to the floor at his feet, begging forgiveness.
But Alissende had lived through far too much of her own pain and disappointment to indulge that kind of visible weakness.
She kept her back stiff, never taking her gaze from his.
His eyes glittered down at her in the wash of sunlight, cool blue and filled with a stunning blend of anger and pain; then that sardonic tilt lifted the corner of his sinfully handsome mouth again, sending a stab of desire through her as he murmured at last, “I do not think you wish to explore the fullness of that question now, lady, and in front of this company.”
“And yet it is the true reason my family urged me to accept this proxy,” she allowed, her voice husky with all she was holding back.
“That you and I share a public…history together,” she felt herself flushing again, “presents a better appearance to the rest of the world, permitting the possibility that our match was undertaken in sincerity rather than for simple expedience.”
“My brother was training in France when you served at court, Sir Damien,” Michael murmured from off to the side, though Alissende noted that Damien did not shift his gaze away from her to look at him, “so you know aught of him from your own experience. But you must understand something about Hugh’s grasping nature to fully comprehend the gravity of this. ”
“And what would that be?” Damien uttered the question, still keeping his attention only on her, the force of his stare unleashing unwelcome ripples of emotion she would not—could not—allow herself to feel again.
“Hugh has spent considerable energy cultivating a position of favor with our new king,” Michael continued, “and it was well known at court that he intended to make Alissende his own, once the official mourning period for her late husband ended. That my brother might have been complicit in the hunting accident that took Lord Denton from this world seemed of little consequence within the royal circle, for Hugh applied his influence to smooth over any concerns.”
Damien scowled, looking at Michael at last. “One of my Templar brethren, Sir Richard de Cantor, served the king as a weapons trainer many years ago. He confided concern that the new sovereign’s judgment might prove weak in matters of friendship.”
Michael nodded. “King Edward has not shown himself as shrewd as many would wish in the time he has held the throne, preferring to honor his favorites at the cost of the kingdom’s barons and lords.
My brother has ingratiated himself to the king in this fashion and had all but persuaded His Majesty to support his marriage to Alissende at the time we fled with her to France.
That was why we needed to act immediately, before my brother’s increasingly violent attempts to claim our cousin for himself became a royal decree. ”
Michael walked over and took Alissende’s hand in his own, trying to comfort her, and Alissende squeezed gently back, grateful for his concern.
“As it stands,” he finished, “the king is not pleased with what he perceives as Alissende’s impetuous action with this proxy, but he has come to accept it in the belief that it was made out of a love long denied by time and circumstance. ”
“The proxy has been declared officially at court already?” Damien grated, looking to her and then back to Michael. “By God, but you assume much. You did not even take into account the possibility that I would refuse your plan.”
“Oh, but we did, Sir Damien,” Lady Blanche broke in once more. “And yet we trusted that you would be moved by the justice of this and agree to aid us. Alissende has freed you from your tormentors, and now we ask that you do the same for her.”
Damien’s fists clenched again. As if preparing to ward off a blow…
as if he yearned with everything in him to reject outright any obligation to her.
The phrase slipped into Alissende’s thoughts, but before she could attempt to come to terms with it, Lady Blanche continued to argue her position, undaunted.
“That Hugh will attempt to lay claim to Alissende again, proxy or nay, is a certainty, and there is no other who would be able or perhaps even willing to undertake the charge of her safety in this. You have much to gain, not only in the life that has been restored to you but also in the lands, wealth, and power that are tied to this union. For the sake of what you once felt for each other, will you not consider it?”
Once felt. Nay…
The words echoed mockingly through Alissende’s heart, underscoring the heart-wrenching truth that for her, at least, the feelings had not truly changed. She had never stopped loving Damien. And no matter how much it hurt, she knew that she likely never would.
She watched him wage his internal struggle, feeling all the while the renewed stabs of misery shooting through her.
This was exactly what she had feared would happen…
what she had wanted to avoid at all costs.
This outcome was not unexpected, but she could not suppress the flare of resentment that rose in her nonetheless, reminding her why she had yearned for the peace of a nunnery, where she could know blessed protection from all the intrigues, decisions, and whims of men.
Damien would reject her now, coldly and in front of these witnesses—an action that she could not refute was but a shadow of the public humiliation she had dealt him five years ago.
It did not matter that she had regretted that decision through every moment of the endless time that had followed; what was done was done, and she had little right to blame him for seeking his retribution now that the chance presented itself.
And so it was that when he pushed his hand through his hair and let out his breath, looking from Ben, to Michael, to her mother, and finally to her, she was stunned to see that something else had replaced the acrimony in his expression.
He wasn’t content by any means, but it seemed that he had come to a decision.
It only remained to hear what it was—and he did not leave her waiting long.
“I cannot deny that, whether asked for or nay, your efforts to liberate me from France deserve some kind of recompense. What little honor I still possess compels me to try to meet that obligation in some way.”
“It does?” Michael sounded surprised, and Alissende glanced at him, wondering how he had managed to sound so convinced of this plan all along when he’d clearly harbored such serious doubts.
“Aye,” Damien said evenly, also glancing to him, “and so I will consent to do my part in this proxy, provided you permit certain additional terms that I wish to set forth.”
Michael’s expression seemed both hopeful and cautious. “Name them.”
Alissende’s heart slowed to a deep, heavy cadence in preparation for what Damien might say next, her emotions in turmoil at the thought that he had agreed to aid her at all.
He stood there, tall and powerful, no longer a man besieged but rather a warrior who knew full well his worth in the matter before him. “The first of these terms is the most important one,” he answered, “for if it cannot be agreed upon, then naught else can follow.”
He shifted his gaze back to Alissende then, pausing anew and making her breath catch at the expression burning in his eyes. And when he spoke, each word landed like a tiny hammer on her wounded heart.
“I will take on the role of your husband, Alissende—but for the space of no more than six months. After that time I demand to be released of it, without penalty or tie, to live as I choose for the rest of my days.”