Chapter Twenty-Three #2
“That is what I am trying to tell you,” Brenton said.
“She is inside, with her mother. But I got my news from a soldier I came across in the great hall. I am sorry it took so long to wave you in, but this big place is literally deserted. The soldier said they all abandoned the place after de Bulverton was killed. But more importantly, there has been an accident.”
“What accident?”
“Your wife, Cres,” Brenton said as gently as he could. “She had a confrontation with de Bulverton and had an accident.”
That had Creston pausing, his eyes widening in shock. For a moment, he didn’t say anything as he digested what he’d been told.
Ophelia. De Bulverton. Accident.
“Brenton, where is my wife?” he asked, his voice beginning to tremble. “Is she dying?”
Brenton looked at Tay, unable to tell him more, and it was Tay who made the decision to let Creston move forward.
“She’s inside with her mother,” he said, pulling Brenton away so Creston could pass. “Creston, be calm. If you are agitated, it will only further upset the situation. Try to be calm, lad.”
Creston wasn’t listening. He rushed into the keep and up the stairs, his heart in his throat as Cruz followed on his heels.
He came to the first level and feverishly searched the two rooms that were there, only they were empty.
He continued on to the next level, where he immediately saw a chamber with an open door.
Inside, there was light, and he went right in.
There were people inside.
A woman was sitting next to the bed, and a man and another woman were standing at the end of it in quiet discussion.
The noise of boots and men startled them.
When the woman sitting next to the bed turned around, Creston immediately saw that it was Randa.
He’d barely exchanged two words with her at their wedding, but now he needed answers, and she had them.
“My wife?” he asked her anxiously.
Randa’s face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed. She stood up, indicating for Creston to sit in the chair.
“Here,” she said. “She is here. Sit with her, my lord. Talk to her. Mayhap she will hear you.”
Creston had no idea what she was talking about until he looked at the bed and saw Ophelia there. She looked as if she were sleeping, as white as the linens she lay upon. There was also a compress on her head with bloodstains on it.
Then it began to dawn on him.
An accident.
She’d had an accident.
“Oh… God,” he breathed, immediately going to Ophelia’s side. “What happened to her?”
Randa watched the very big, very blond knight lean over her daughter, his features full of grief.
“She came to us earlier,” she said, wiping at her tearful eyes. “She wanted to speak with my father. Did you know she was coming?”
Creston was stroking Ophelia’s face, lifting an eyelid to see if her pupils were reacting to the light. “Nay,” he said. “I did not even know she had left.”
“But you know why?”
He sighed heavily, the very air around him infused with pain. “I know,” he said. “I know why.”
Randa watched him as he touched her daughter. She could see, just in those first few moments, that this was no ordinary relationship.
Something special had happened between them.
“Then you should know that she and my father had words,” she said.
“Terrible words. She told him that Blackchurch knew of his attempt to betray them to the king. She tried to force him to… stop, I suppose. Retreat. She said that you were her family and that she loved you, and she cursed him for trying to ruin her happiness.”
Creston couldn’t help it. His eyes filled with tears. “She came to fight him alone,” he whispered tightly. “Please tell me she did not physically fight him.”
“Nay,” Randa said, noting that more men were entering the chamber now. Very big men that she’d seen at her daughter’s wedding, men who were part of Blackchurch. “She did not physically fight him, but he tried to capture her. She ran from him and fell down a flight of stairs.”
Creston looked at her in horror. “Oh, God,” he breathed. “Is that the accident I was told of?”
“It is.”
“What of the child?”
“I believe that he is dead, my lord.”
The man at the end of the bed spoke up. When he saw Creston looking at him in shock, he stepped forward to explain himself.
“My name is Kerne,” he said. “I am the physic in town. Lady de Camville summoned me to tend her daughter and I am sorry to say that I believe the child is dead. I cannot feel any movement and there has been a great deal of blood.”
Creston was hit with a wave of grief. “And my wife?” He could barely speak. “Will she die?”
“I do not believe so,” he said. “But she is bleeding. Her body is trying to expel the child, so we must let it.”
“She is laboring?”
“She is.”
Creston had to catch his breath. He closed his eyes tightly and sat heavily on the chair that Randa had been sitting on.
Leaning forward on the mattress, he put his face in his hands, struggling not to come apart.
Collapsing wouldn’t help Ophelia, so he wouldn’t do it.
He had to be strong for her, for them both, because they were facing something unimaginably awful.
“Has she been awake at all?” he finally asked, his voice hoarse. “Does she know about the child?”
The physic shook his head. “She has not awakened,” he said. “She struck her head when she fell, so we must be patient.”
“But you do believe she will awaken?”
“I do,” the physic said. “Her eyes are normal and her breathing is even, so there is no indication that she has done anything more than knock herself unconscious. But I do believe she has broken her right arm in the fall and mayhap a rib or two.”
Creston closed his eyes at the diagnosis. It could have been so much worse, so if Ophelia only had a few broken bones, they would heal. But the loss of a child was something altogether different. Other than Ophelia’s death, it was the worst thing he could have imagined.
He was gutted.
Standing up, he turned around to see Tay, Fox, and Cruz behind him, each man with expressions of grief and sympathy. His friends. His dear, dear friends, now witnessing this terrible moment with him.
He was glad they were here.
“Tay,” he said, his voice raspy with emotion, “bring Ming Tang here. He has a knowledge of healing. I want him to look at Lia.”
Tay nodded and was gone. As they heard his bootsteps fade down the stairs, Creston returned his attention to Randa.
“I was told that my wife did not kill de Bulverton,” he said. “Is this true?”
“It is.”
“Then who did?”
Randa’s eyes were full of tears. “I did,” she said. “He was going to kill her. I… I had to do something. I could not stand by and watch him harm her. Not again.”
Creston knew what she meant. “You mean the starvation?” he said. “Forcing her to conceal her pregnancy from me?”
Randa nodded, wiping the tears that were now falling.
“I could do nothing,” she said. “We were at his mercy. My husband is no longer alive, so I had no choice but to obey my father. Lia… She is angry about it, and rightfully so. She was so brave to stand against him today, my lord. You would have been proud of her. But when she fell down the stairs, I found my courage, too. I could not let him hurt her any more than he had.”
Creston didn’t know if he felt better or worse with that knowledge. “Did he push her?”
Randa shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “It was dark and she did not see the stairs as she ran from him. She simply fell.”
The whole thing seemed like such a senseless tragedy. Creston grunted in understanding, knowing it was just an accident, as he’d been told. But there was one thing on his mind, something he needed to have clarified.
“Please tell me that what she did was not part of this plot against Blackchurch,” he said. “Did she intend to betray us, too?”
“Nay,” Randa said firmly. “She knew nothing. That’s why she came—to stop him.
My lord, I heard what she said to my father.
She said that she has a wonderful life at Blackchurch and she loves the people there.
She loves you. It seems that you have given her a joyful life, and as her mother, I am very grateful.
She wanted to protect that life, and that is why she stood against my father as she did. ”
That was good enough for Creston. He thanked Randa silently and went back to the chair, sitting down beside Ophelia and trying not to break down.
The physic and the woman with him, possibly his wife or a midwife, were lifting the covers up to check on the progress of the labor, and when Fox and Cruz saw this, they went outside and shut the door.
That left Creston with Ophelia, holding her hand, while the physic and his wife went to work down below.
But Creston wouldn’t look.
He couldn’t.
Everything was in God’s hands now.
*
Ophelia gradually became aware of the sound of a fire snapping softly in the hearth.
She could smell smoke from the fire and it made her want to cough.
She did, a little, but it hurt to move her chest, so she stopped.
Struggling to open her eyes, she could see that it was dark in the room.
The flames in the hearth created patterns dancing on the walls and she turned her head slightly, trying to orient herself.
She had no idea where she was, or why she was lying in bed, but when she tried to move, a big hand stopped her.
“Easy, sweetheart,” Creston said. “Are you awake? Can you hear me?”
She grunted softly. “I hear you,” she said, though she’d closed her eyes again because the very act of speaking seemed to hurt her chest again. “Creston?”
“Aye, love, I’m here,” he murmured. “How do you feel?”
Ophelia didn’t answer right away. She was still trying to figure out what had happened. “I do not know,” she said, but then she moved her body slightly and darts of pain shot up her torso. “God’s Bones. Everything seems to hurt.”