Chapter Fifteen #4
Devlin’s head was still swirling with the possibility and it was a terrible struggle not to feel anger or betrayal or utter grief about it. So he took a deep breath and pushed on.
“As I mentioned, much has occurred since you were locked up in my vault,” he said.
“The most important occurrence has to do with the Lady Emllyn Fitzgerald. I am not quite sure how to address this so I will simply come out with it; a woman declaring that she was the Lady Emllyn Fitzgerald stowed away on Kildare’s armada. ”
Victor stopped chewing and his eyes widened. “What’s this you say?” he repeated, shocked. “Lady Emllyn? But… but that is impossible. The woman died last winter.”
Devlin could see how astonished the man was and he understood the feeling well. “Be that as it may, a woman declaring she was the sister of Kildare was captured when the fleet foundered,” he said quietly. “She was brought to me and became my property. I need not explain what that entails, do I?”
Victor pushed aside his bread, his face pale with shock and horror. “You do not,” he said, his tone hoarse. “But since the Lady Emllyn is dead, I am curious as to who this woman is and why she said she was the Lady Emllyn.”
Devlin sighed heavily; there was a pitcher of wine off to his right and he collected it, drinking straight from the pitcher. He found he desperately needed it.
“She said she was following her lover, a Sir Trevor, into battle because she wanted to prove to him what a good and fearless wife she would be,” he said. He took another drink before looking St. John in the eye. “Does that sound like anyone you know?”
Victor was beside himself. The calm, collected, and seasoned veteran looked to be verging on a breakdown. “Of course it does!” he finally hissed. “It sounds like Cate!”
Devlin nodded, the feelings of nausea and despair overwhelming him once more.
“She is a petite woman with reddish-gold hair and beautiful green eyes,” he said, his tone dull and lifeless.
“She has a dusting of freckles on her nose and a darker freckle near her right ear. Does this sound like the Lady Emllyn to you?”
Victor shook his head, closing his eyes tightly against the realization. “It does not,” he muttered. “You have described my daughter perfectly.”
Devlin actually felt tears in his eyes. He couldn’t help it. He was so utterly devastated. “Why would she tell me she was the Lady Emllyn?”
Victor was devastated, too. He was so very pale with astonishment.
“I do not know,” he muttered. “I am sure she was terrified to have been captured in battle. Mayhap she told you she was the Lady Emllyn because she hoped you would treat her with more respect than if she told you she was a mere knight’s daughter.
But you didn’t treat her with respect, did you? You… you brutalized her anyway.”
Devlin couldn’t look at the man; he was staring at the pitcher in his hand. “She was a casualty of war,” he said softly. “She became my property to do with as I pleased.”
“She was an innocent young maiden!”
“An innocent young maiden who stowed away on a battle armada to be with her lover,” Devlin reiterated steadily.
“Even after I claimed her as my own, she could have told me at any time that she was not the Lady Emllyn. The damage had already been done to her and pretending to be an earl’s sister wasn’t providing her with any safe securities. ”
Victor’s pain-filled gaze lingered on him for several long seconds before looking away.
He had to; the longer he looked at Devlin, the more grief-stricken he became.
“I do not know the answer to that, either,” he whispered.
“As with all lies, the more time passes the more difficult it is to tell the truth. Mayhap she was fearful of your reaction should she tell you who she really was.”
“Mayhap.”
“For the love of God, where is she?”
Devlin hesitated. “You should know that I love her,” he said, feeling the man’s pain mingle with his own. “She started out as my property but she became my heart. I suppose I honestly do not care if she is Emllyn or Cate; I love her regardless.”
Victor didn’t think he could have possibly been more astonished, but he was. “You love her?” he asked in disbelief. “Or is she simply a possession you are fond of?”
“I love her with everything that I am.”
“Then tell me where she is.”
Devlin sighed heavily and took another long drink. “She is at de Cleveley’s settlement to the south,” he said. “I took her there myself. She is safe.”
“Why did you take her there?”
Devlin considered the pitcher again, pensively, before responding.
“With Kildare’s attack, I was sure there was another one coming shortly,” he said.
“Do you recall that we asked you of missives that had been delivered to de Cleveley? You told us that the missives indeed mentioned plans to regain Black Castle, as I had suspected, so I was convinced that de Cleveley was planning an attack on the heels of Kildare’s.
This is where Emllyn came in; she and I had a bargain.
When she first came to me, she very much wanted to see if Sir Trevor was amongst the English prisoners.
I told her I would let her see the prisoners for herself if she went to de Cleveley and found out what more she could about an attack against Black Castle.
Being Kildare’s sister, they should easily confide in her.
But our plans did not go exactly as we had hoped. ”
Victor was hanging on every word. “What do you mean?