Chelynne

  “You’ve been a fool,” she muttered to his sleeping face, “l’ve let him hurt you when you could have prevented it.” Still there was no sound or movement. She gave a deep sigh. The injury, the many heavy drinks—it was no wonder he slept so soundly.

  “Do you know what life with you has become, Chadwick?” She looked at his peaceful face and sighed heavily. “Life with you is one long series of contradictions. You warn me for my safety and then tell me you don’t care what I do. You promise never to duel over me, and then kill a man for even intimating desire for me. You tell me the day will come when business is done and you will tie yourself to a marriage, yet you make no effort to secure that day.”

  The deep, even breathing from her husband was his only response. Chad had physical reason to be this exhausted, but Chelynne’s tired body cried out for rest only from the emotional tensions of the day. She had seen a little too much now to go back to that quiet and naive young virgin who had offered herself so trustingly into this marriage. A great many things had passed between Chelynne and her husband and precious few of them had been pleasant.

  “I once longed for love,” she said to her sleeping husband, her voice soft as a whisper. “But I only fear it now.” There was a long pause and then she went on decidedly, though quietly, to explain to this man some things that she would lack the courage to say if he were in an alert state. “We have reached a barrier, I think, that will either be impossible to pass...or will be the starting point for a new relationship between us.

  “It has been a most painful thing, loving you. I can’t count the number of pleasurable moments, there haven’t been enough of them to recall. And hating you, it’s so senseless, so futile.”

  Bestel had been sent on some errands following the duel and was only now returning to see to Chad. The door to the bedchamber was ajar and he heard the soft voice from within. Assuming Chad was in a conversation with his young wife, he paused before entering.

  “You have so much and yet seem to be such an unhappy man. Is it a painful past that plagues you? Conflict with your father that was never resolved? I can understand some of that now, truly. You see, I waited for love, the idea of how it would feel firm in my mind. Now I have learned the truth to it. It is a fantasy for young hearts; there is truly no such emotion. My uncle does not love my aunt, the king does not love the queen, there is none of that for anyone. Desire that was once an honest and beautiful thing is now disgusting in my eyes. Now that even that has been destroyed...even that...what more is there?”

  Bestel made a move to knock or creep away, but the voice came again from inside that room and he was frozen. He could do nothing but listen. “There is no choice, Chad. I have no place to go. I would not shame Sheldon and flee to him. From now I suppose it will be as you wished it, we simply exist, feeling nothing, showing nothing, sharing nothing. I will wonder as I rise in the mornings if this is the day you hold me, or lash out at me in anger. I never know if we will dance in harmony or duel with hostile words. I will wonder, husband mine, as in the past, but no more will I pursue you. No more will I cry.”

  Bestel knocked quickly, unable to bear much more of this eavesdropping himself.

  “Yes,” came her quick response.

  “My lady? Might I see to ‘Is Lordship now?”

  “Of course. Were you aware that he was injured? Were you the one who tended him?”

  “Aye, mum.” He nodded.

  “Well, it’s worsened and I mended it as I could.” She gave a soft, embarrassed laugh. “I’m not accustomed to that fabric type but it will do.”

  “You’ve sewn it?” Bestel asked, shocked.

  There was a quick but slight movement from the bed and Bestel warily stole a glance in that direction. He had been with Chad through the worst of times, through wars, crises on his plantation, disasters on shipboard. He had been shot through the stomach, stabbed more often, fallen from horses —yet he had never lost his consciousness completely. Chelynne did not notice the movement. She simply shrugged. “ ‘Twas a necessity.”

  “Aye, mum.”

  “I’ll look in on him in the morning, then, if you’ll stay with him now. I’m so tired I could sleep in the chair, but would prefer a bed.”

  “Aye, mum. Don’t worry fer ‘im, mum. I’ll see to ‘im now.”

  She nodded, placed a light kiss on her husband’s brow, and left the room. Bestel stood and looked down at His Lordship’s sleeping face and saw a slow, almost imperceptible smile grow there.

  “Aye, the little mum was dishonored, right enough, but not by Master John.” A faint frown replaced the smile, as though the man were troubled in his sleep by a fleeting thought. He made no other movement.

  Chelynne went to her room, blowing out the candles on her way, and she found her own private resting place had been cleared by her servants so she could sleep.

  She was so tired that her resolution to spend the rest of her life void of feeling seemed an easy endeavor. She even found some comfort in it.

  She slipped out of the dressing gown and into bed, sleep greeting her immediately as she closed her eyes. In her dreams, gentle hands soothingly crept over her body as fiery lips teased her. Pleasure tingled within her again and when she looked into the face of this delightful lover...it was Chad.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Chelynne had hoped the morning would come and give her strength in her new resolve. She was wrong. The same worry and fretfulness encompassed her, the same feeling of depression was there. She bravely disregarded it and found comfort in her routine. She bathed, dressed, and breakfasted. Then she took herself to her husband’s room to see to his well-being.

  She saw what she had expected to see in his bedchamber. He was up and dressed, drinking his coffee. The only sign of his injury was the linen sling that supported his injured arm. There were no lines of tension on his face, no shadows of fatigue. He was refreshed and once again in control of his situation and his surroundings. It was the image of him she had had since their first encounter. He was a warring machine, never troubled or confused, never flustered or pained. An injury that had brought him to his knees the night before had been tended, and with the aid of a brandy and a few hours’ rest he was completely mended and revitalized. He could be weakened temporarily, but he could not be disadvantaged for long. He was like a jungle beast, a man whose challenges and beatings only made him stronger and more determined. So how could a mere girl, a woman child, expect to affect him very much? How could she have thought to tempt him, gain his affection, be of any real importance to him? Is that not what a woman really wants when she seeks love? To dominate a man’s heart, if not his mind and soul? So she had thought, unconsciously, to do. To dominate at least a part of him, of his life. But no more. He could not feel. She would have more promise of success in trying to collect a wild boar from the forest and keep him as a pet in her house.

  “You’re looking fit, my lord,” she said.

  “I’m feeling well enough. I commend you for your fine stitchery. It does not pain me much.”

  “Good, then. Might I ask you something of...of a delicate nature?”

  “Of course.” He nodded, businesslike.

  “Will you be attending the burial of Sir John?”

  His brow creased into a frown and he muttered under his breath. “I think not.”

  “Shall you be offended if I do?”

  “I think the gossip should be sufficiently horrible without adding that to the tale. I would much prefer you pass that affair by.” He looked away from her for a moment and she remained silent. Looking back at her, he added, “I’m certain his body will be taken out of the city. His people were from the country.”

  “Very well, I thought only to have your opinion on the matter.”

  “Regardless of what you might think, my dear, I do not take the incident lightly. Killing has no appeal for me, even with just cause. And especially one such as Sir John, who was a friend of mine. I would have much preferred another course.”
r />   “I know that he insisted,” she murmured. “I cannot fathom the reason.”

  “It is of a bitterness you couldn’t understand. He’s had much misfortune in his time and has come to resent anyone of the noble class. I knew him at a time when he did not do such dramatic things, when he had a good head for sense.”

  “Sound reason,” she mumbled as the memory stirred.

  “My dear?”

  “Nothing, my lord. What more might come of this, Chadwick? Shall you suffer ill from the duel? Will there be a harsh penalty?”

  “Nothing of that sort, I assure you. But you’ll favor a new treatment from your courtly friends. I should think they will leave off forcing their affections.”

  “I hadn’t thought to pay such a price,” she murmured.

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to accept something here and now, Chelynne, for your own peace of mind. John Bollering used you as his excuse for a fight he’d been wanting. As you might have guessed, it was not the first time we’ve had differences. In all actuality it had nothing to do with his or my affection for you. I can bear the insult of another man touching what is mine, without killing him. I met him because he insisted; that is the only reason.”

  “Then you would not have met him for my honor?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “That is the answer I expected,” she said softly.

  “You are a very guilty woman, madam. You are guilty of judging harshly and without much cause. I would protect you in any circumstances. I would kill any man to prevent him from abusing you, from using you against your will. But I am not a fool. I would not seek to rid you of the lover of your choice by the sword. I know better than to think that would gain me favor with you. Do you understand?”

  “He was no lover of mine.”

  “And he was not killed because I thought he was. He was killed because in his foolishness he sought death, or victory, for—” Chad’s voice had a harsh tone that had become louder and louder as he explained. He checked himself, then calmed his tone and went on in a more dignified manner. “For old causes that were not worth the price.”

  “What causes? By my word, Chadwick, I understand nothing of this!”

  “That is all I am prepared to say, Chelynne. Understand this: he was not killed for the reasons you think. Whether or not you had gone with him to his lodgings, he would have found a way to battle this out. He was determined.”

  She opened her mouth as if to speak but a knock at her husband’s door held her silent. Chad called out his consent to enter, and Bestel came hesitantly into the room. He noticed Chelynne and addressed her reluctantly.

  “There is a caller, madam. For you.”

  “Who calls at such an hour?” she asked quizzically.

  “Manservant to your uncle, my lady.”

  “Then they’ve arrived at last,” she cried, not concerning herself with Bestel’s formal announcement. To her this was like a lifeboat in a storm, at precisely the time she needed something like this, something like her uncle’s dauntless love to give her ease and confidence again. “Excuse me, Chad. I’ll see him at once.” She whirled and was gone, excitement in her quick step and happiness lighting the features that a moment ago were confused, sad.

  Bestel looked at his lord, a cloud of doubt crossing his eyes. “He brings the mum bad news,” he said simply. Chad rose and followed. At the bottom of the stairs Chelynne had only just faced Gordon.

  “Has Lord Mondeloy just arrived?”

  Gordon was uneasy. He looked between the earl and the young lass he had watched grow up. “Last night, my lady, but—”

  “How grand! Where are they? When may I call?”

  “My lady, Lord Mondeloy shouldn’t have made the trip. He was ill and...and we had to stop several times. He insisted on pressing his health, determined about some business here...and would not return to Welbering as he should have.”

  “Is Uncle Sheldon ill? May I go to him now?” Gordon looked helplessly at Chad, his face twisting with pain. “What is it?” she demanded.

  “In the night, madam, when we’d only just arrived...He’s dead, my lady.”

  Chelynne swayed slightly, taking a step back, and Chad instinctively moved up behind her to give aid if necessary. Her hand began a journey to her mouth to stifle her cry of grief, but there came no sound. Instead, both hands returned to her sides and her fists clenched. There was a movement from her, but so slight it was almost unnoticeable. Her eyelids were pinched closed. She was reaching deeply within herself for strength.

  For Chad this stirred a memory. It had been a day of battle when he was suddenly aware of all the cruelty that existed on earth. He remembered thinking that he hoped the men he slew had believed in God; how frightening to think he would send a man to Hell. He could not remember the exact moment or the particular crisis, but there had been a time when he had decided that he must endure and accept this agony of living or simply lie down and die.

  Now, watching his young wife, he knew that she had come to that same position, though the circumstances were very different. This must be the very grimmest moment of her life. She would have to be strong, endure and accept this or give up.

  “Do you know the cause?” she asked.

  “Nay. It was not swift. He had been ill.”

  “Are arrangements being made?”

  “Aye, Lady Mondeloy and Ha—Lord Mondeloy will have everything done. Service for His Lordship in the city and then to Welbering to the family cemetery.”

  She nodded and looked to her husband. There was sympathy in his eyes but she was not looking for that. She could not think beyond control now. There was absolutely nothing anyone could give her. “I will go to Lady Eleanor now, my lord, with your permission.”

  “Of course.”

  “Will you wait for me, Gordon?”

  “I’ll take you there, madam,” he returned with a slight bow.

  Chad gave her a moment alone in her room before going in. She had little to do to make ready. He entered then, this time knocking first.

  “Should you like me to accompany you?”

  “It’s kind of you to offer,” she said somewhat blankly. “But this time I would like to go alone. My family may have need of me.”

  “I would not consider it an imposition, Chelynne. I would be happy to lend my support.”

  She did not respond to that statement. “I shall go to Welbering.”

  “Then I will make ready.”

  “No, Chadwick. This, too, I do alone.”

  “The roads are not safe. I shouldn’t let you go without—”

  “Hire horsemen, then, if you wish. My purpose is not to aid my aunt or cousin. Indeed, they will not likely be pleased with my presence. I was not well loved by any but Sheldon. I would like to go through the house to see if there is anything left of my parents before Harry or Eleanor destroys anything I have right to out of cruelty.”

  “You think them capable of something that low?” he asked incredulously.

  With amazing calm she faced him. “I have no delusion about their affection for me. Yes, Harry has done that very thing in the past with no other motive save causing me grief. Lady Eleanor is much like her son in her lack of compassion.”

  “I could go and lend my support there as well.”

  “There are times,” she said with an air of melancholy, distant and somewhat detached, as if she were speaking for someone else, as if she had no feeling. Her voice drifted away for a moment and then drifted back in the lifeless tone. “There are some times, some things that one must do without aid or counsel. I pray you try to understand my circumstance. He...he was my only living kin, and is now gone. There is a task at hand and grief. Both of those I consider private now.” Her eyes went up to his and she spoke quickly. “I will take great care and return to you swiftly.”

  There was a kind of command in her words, but that was not what persuaded Chad to give his consent. It was a decision on her part that was important to her maturing, and one th
at brought back memories of the time when he took the matter of his own life into his own hands and denied interference. It was important and necessary to her. Having been there himself, he couldn’t deny another the time of seeking and finding—not even one who was sworn to dependence on him by law.

  He put his hands on her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “Times have not been the best between us, Chelynne. I am a hard man, and I know that about myself. From now, if you need me, come to me. I am at your call.”

  He wished she could see this as a great sacrifice, the beginning of something. But she only mumbled, “You’re very kind, my lord.”

  It had been Gordon’s intention to drive Her Ladyship to the Mondeloy residence, but Chelynne coaxed him into her own coach, leaving his behind, so they could talk during the ride. She faced Gordon with a commanding air and spoke quickly and in hushed tones. The discussion was brief and the servant only nodded. He neither questioned nor argued.

  The body of the baron did lie in state and there was a service in London. Finally the priest said his words over that sad corpse and blessed the passing. Chelynne sat with her husband or stood at his side during the tiresome affair of death and mourning. Many nobles attended, the funeral being as much a social affair as a ball—to be seen, if the queen was; to be present, if others of importance were. Sheldon was not well known or greatly missed, but it was like other things at court, very much a matter of appearances. And it was typical of Eleanor, pompous and extravagant. In their black with heavy veils the women were not known but by escort, and their grief was announced by the color and sternness of their garb.

  Chelynne was not moved by any of this display. She had come to loathe the pomp and ceremony with which the slightest daily habit was treated. The black couldn’t show her grief as acutely as she felt it. She couldn’t rend her clothes or tear her hair to mourn her uncle properly. The ache in her heart was the only true grief, and it was a thing she could neither share nor display.

  The family separated as they made ready to depart for Welbering. Chad insisted on sending his own men, more than a score, to ride with the Mondeloy party. They had gone ahead to prepare to ride escort once Chelynne’s coach joined Eleanor’s. The Hawthorne coach was readied and parcels were loaded. Summer was tethered to the rear.