Chapter Nine #3
“Excellent,” Addax said, slapping Cole on the shoulder. “In that case, I’ve much to plan before tomorrow, but first I intend to make sure de Wolfe wasn’t seriously injured, and then I will collect my purse.”
Maximilian, in particular, seemed relieved. “Many thanks, Ad,” he said. “It will be a pleasure having you at Alston for the summer. Just like old times. Penrith and Carlisle aren’t terribly far. There are many good taverns there.”
He meant drinking and women, something Addax knew a little something about. Not particularly the women, because he wasn’t a womanizer like Maximilian was, but he’d had his fair share of drink.
Then he caught a glimpse of Emmeline.
She was looking at her feet as Maximilian spoke of taverns and old times.
Addax realized that he was glad to go with Maximilian, not because Cole had asked it of him, but because Emmeline would be there.
He’d be able to see her every day. He’d enjoyed talking to her so much that he was looking forward to that. But only that.
He knew damn well it could go no further.
But that didn’t stop him from being happy about it.
“It will be a summer to remember, to be sure,” he finally said. “Of course, I should like Lady de Grey’s approval. I have a feeling I will be taking her husband away from her more than she might like.”
As Emmeline looked up from her feet, surprised that he should take her feelings into consideration, Maximilian spoke for her.
“I would not worry,” he said. “What I do does not concern her.”
It was a callous thing to say, but Addax didn’t comment on it. There was no use. He did, however, see that Corisande was eyeing Maximilian quite unhappily.
He could only imagine what was going on in her mind.
Like nearly everyone else in Cole’s inner circle, Corisande knew how poorly Maximilian had treated Emmeline from the start.
She’d been sickened to hear that the woman had tried to kill herself over it the night before.
Emmeline seemed to have new resolve this morning, but there was no telling what would happen when the months and years dragged on and Maximilian deliberately ignored his wife, leaving her alone and despondent.
“Max,” Corisande said casually, reaching out to take Emmeline’s hand. “Why not leave Emmy here with me whilst you inspect your new acquisition? We have gotten along famously, and I would like her company.”
Maximilian looked puzzled. “Emmy?”
“Your wife,” Corisande said patiently. “Her friends call her Emmy. Or didn’t you take the time to find that out yet?”
Cole cleared his throat loudly as his wife began slinging insults.
“I think the weather should hold for your journey home,” he said, turning to block Corisande’s view of Maximilian and putting his hands on the man to steer him away.
“This time of year can be misty in the morning, but I do not anticipate any storms. I’ve got a man who swears he can read the weather, and he’s been accurate so far. ”
Maximilian was moving toward the encampment with Cole and Addax right behind him.
He said something about the weather in general as Cole looked over his shoulder and cast his wife a threatening look that she promptly ignored.
As the men began filtering away and Addax departed to check on de Wolfe and collect his purse, Corisande turned to Emmeline.
“He deserved that, the stupid goat,” she muttered, but realized it was not her place to chastise him, and she smiled weakly. “I apologize, dearest. But men like that make me furious. He has such a beauty in you. He needs to recognize that.”
Emmeline forced a smile. “I do not think he cares,” she said. “But no matter—you heard him. He is going to heal from his broken arm and return to the tournament circuit, leaving me alone at Alston. And that is a pleasing prospect for me. Out of sight, out of mind.”
Corisande thought that sounded very sad, but she refrained from commenting.
Everyone’s life was different and everyone’s marriage was different.
She shouldn’t have said what she did, but she’d never liked Maximilian.
The man had always seemed rather foolish to her, like a child who never grew up.
She didn’t like him more now that she’d seen how he treated someone as sweet as Emmeline.
But there was nothing she could do about it.
“Well,” she said, taking Emmeline by the hand. “I think we should return to the castle and pack your belongings. And I will have the cook make a great basket of food for you to take with you.”
Emmeline’s smile turned grateful. “That is very kind of you,” she said. “And I promise that the first missive I send you will have pressed flowers from Alston’s garden. Will you send me seeds from Berwick to plant?”
Corisande loved that idea. “I will,” she said as the women began the mile trek back to the castle. “Send me things from Alston that I can plant here as well. It will remind me of you.”
It was a sweet sentiment, a turn in conversation that Corisande had planned. She was trying to make Emmeline’s return to Alston Castle seem as if it was nothing at all. As if she wasn’t going back with a cold husband and an uncertain future. But Corisande knew better than that.
And so did Emmeline.