Authors: Dawn Chandler
“
Aye, for nineteen years. I never went back to see your mother, although I had people keeping an eye on her, hoping you would show up. The only one that ever came to see her was a knight.” He watched her face closely. “If you were with her until you were ten, you must have known their son, the Dark Knight?”
“
Did you know Dr. Burgess?” she asked in response, unwilling to discuss the Dark Knight. It was too much of a risk. She could not allow anyone to find out who she truly was.
He grunted in irritation. “You are stubborn.”
She grinned and ran her hand along the smooth fabric of the well-worn chair. “I have been told I take after you.” It was hard for her to admit that, but the grin that slipped across his lips was worth it.
“
Aye.” His smile slipped away and he shook his head. “He was a nice man. I liked him, even though I tried hard not to.” He sat heavily back into his chair. “He was good to your mother, even when she had tantrums. He gave into her needs and let her have her way. Paul was the kind of man she needed.”
“
I am not sure of that,” Van replied reluctantly. “Always getting what you want makes you soft and spoiled.”
He shrugged thoughtfully. “Perhaps, but it was the only type of man she would settle for and I was never that type of man. It was my way, no options.” His lips twitched and he sighed. “I am sad to say, I have not changed. My wife now is malleable. She does as she is told and she loves me.”
Something in his eyes and his voice caused her to start. “Do you not love her?” She saw the answer in the pain in his black eyes. He didn’t, he still loved Patricia. “You still love Mother?”
“
Aye, I still love her very much and I love you, too.” He smiled sadly when she stiffened. “I know that things are not good between us and I will not push you. I will give you all the time you need, but I want you to know I want a relationship with you.”
Her thoughts of forgiveness were drawn short as she focused on one thing he had said. “If you did not go to see my mother again, how did you plan for the marriage?”
“
Patricia sent a messenger,” he said simply. “She said to get a marriage together and to come and get you. That she would send a message when you were there.”
Van heart began to race and air caught in the tightness of her throat, burning painfully with each ragged breath.
Matthew’s face grew concerned and he stood, taking a step toward her. “One of my men went to see her and then I came to get you. I had thought she knew that my standing and influence could get you a better husband than she could arrange for.”
Van jumped to her feet, pacing the large room. She couldn’t fathom it. “She told me, you came to her, telling her you were sorry for wanting to kill me and that you had changed.”
“
Kill you? What the hell are you talking about?” He reached for her as she paced by him, but she jerked her arm from his grasp. “Stop and talk to me. I don’t understand.” His arms dropped to his sides. Confusion and pain swam in his eyes. Eyes so much like hers. “I could never want to hurt you.”
His words had wormed their way into her heart and mind and had softened her against him. His sweet words and touching stories had taken their toll on her hatred and anger, but it was the pain and confusion that now screamed in his quiet voice that made her positive that he was not lying.
“
I cannot stay here.” She turned and ran from the room, making her way up the winding staircase without seeing the stairs beneath her.
In her chambers, Van tried to get herself under control. How could her mother have done this to her?
She heard a light knocking on the door, but she ignored it. It was more than likely her father and she could not face him right now. The knock came once more and then heavy footsteps disappeared down the corridor.
She slumped down onto the bed and closed her eyes.
Everyone had the same story, the same story of a man distraught over the loss of his beloved daughter, a man who searched for her for nineteen years.
Thoughts spun through her mind, the same thoughts that had crossed her mind when she was younger and it was late in the night. She would lay awake thinking of the man who had sired her. She would try to imagine why a man would search for so long just to kill his daughter. She had pushed those thoughts away when she was a child, but now she let them run freely.
Why would it be so important to him to have his daughter dead? No one could care that much if he had a daughter. Once the daughter was out of sight, she should be out of mind as well.
Out of mind if he had wanted to kill her, but not if he only wanted to be her father.
The castle seemed to creak around her as if the walls were trying to put in their opinions, too. The wind began to blow branches against the outside walls as if hands were reaching for her, in comfort or something else, she was unsure.
She lay back onto the pillows and shuddered lightly. Her head throbbed as restless thoughts whirled through it like dirt in the whipping wind.
Forcing her breathing to slow, she tried to concentrate on something besides the headache that had taken hold of her.
She thought of the man who had acted as her father. She liked Dr. Burgess, but Matthew was right, he was the kind of man who did whatever Patricia had wanted. Even when he had disagreed with her about the way she was raising Vanessa, he would let her do what she wanted. Not only was Van her daughter and not his, but even if she had been his, Van really doubted he would have stood up to Patricia.
She had never felt a bond with Paul, who had tried mostly to just stay out of the way. Sadly, there had been no deep bond between her and her mother either. Paul and her mother seemed to keep her at a distance—perhaps just because of her father.
She tossed and turned until late in the night and still she could not find sleep. Unable to bear facing Matthew in the morning, she grabbed her bag and silently left the manor.
It was not a far walk and the night was clear and not too cold. She had been in colder weather and had walked farther in her life, so she set off toward her new home on foot.
The entire way to Grayweist she suffered fresh pain. What she wanted more than anything was to get on her horse and run, to just disappear, but she knew she could not do that.
She was not supposed to be the Dark Knight. She was not supposed to be a warrior. Those were things she should never have been.
She knew now that she should have grown up in the comfort that Matthew would have provided and been the kind of wife Peter deserved.
The soft breeze caressed her cheeks and eased her mind. Perhaps she should just tell Peter the truth. She trusted him and his judgments. She had no doubts that he would help her.
She had seen the way he had changed toward her, the way he looked at her now. She was beginning to think that he loved her. She hoped it was not just her hopeful imagination that saw these things in his eyes and his actions.
When she got back, she would explain it all to him. Tell him everything and then try to become the kind of woman she should be.
She was supposed to be a woman. She could be a woman. She would have to wear the right clothes and stay away from the men, but it was the way it should have been in the beginning. She would work it out with Matthew and life would be as it was meant to be before her mother used her as a pawn.
CHAPTER 21
As soon as Vanessa’s carriage had disappeared from his sight, Peter let out a troubled sigh. Worry tickled the back of his mind. He could not forget what the stable master had overheard when she was speaking to her horse.
She had told him that she could not yet leave. She still had something to take care of.
A constant barrage of questions ran over and over again through Peter’s dark thoughts.
What if she deals with her father and then disappears
?
What if that is all she needs to do before she can mount her horse and ride away
?
Would she really just leave? Could she
?
He tried to push the concern away, but it still buzzed incessantly in his ear like a coven of gnats.
He did his best to ignore it and set to completing his tasks for the day. Knowing he would get no sleep without her warmth against him, he decided it would be the best time to stake out Marcus Teredo’s sheep.
He kept his mind occupied that entire day with preparations for the evening. He would take the men early and set up a camp. They could stay hidden in the tall grasses that surrounded Teredo’s pasture and in the thin line of trees that flanked the grass to the west.
He would have a few days before Vanessa returned and he hoped that in that time more sheep were taken and they could catch the thieves. More, he hoped he could find enough to keep him busy so he would not dwell on her absence and what it might mean for him in the end.
***
Ryan tugged on the sleeve of Gregory Penchiot as the men trudged along in the growing darkness on their way to their destination. Penchiot was a tall man, thick as a barrel and about as pretty. His brown hair was dull and lifeless and his green eyes were dim. He gave off the impression of a stupid man. He was cruel and mean and had few ideas of his own. No, he did what others told him.
That suited Ryan just fine.
He liked men around him who did what they were told. Men like Christopher Dalton who had yelled out for the entertainment at the wedding feast. Everyone seemed to believe it was Peter’s little whore that had coerced him into yelling, but it had been Ryan who had told him what to say and when.
He nodded to Christopher and the three men began to slow.
They slipped through the marching men until they were off to the side and out of hearing range. Ryan smiled snidely. “I have a small job for you, Penchiot.”
Ryan had noticed the jealousy that Peter showed when he saw his bride with other men. He planned to take advantage of that.
The jealousy was not bad yet. It was just a glimmer, but with the correct seeds sown it could grow into an infestation. One that could make Ryan’s last few days here entertaining if nothing else.
It would serve the overly large woman right to have her marriage fall apart for what she had done to him, he thought spitefully. His loins still ached at the missed opportunity with the enticing little minx, Amy.
“
I want you to go to Lord Lawston and make some small comments for me. Nothing bad, just some friendly advice.” Ryan grinned as the smile spread across Gregory’s face.
He leaned forward and whispered quietly what he wanted said and then the grin widened into a full-toothed smile. As he watched Gregory hurry away to catch up with their fearless leader he thought of his actual task for the night.
He had to stop this ambush from happening and he knew a simple way to do so. He planned to throw a rock at the head of that big stupid beast of a man, Verges. He grunted as Gregory touched Peter’s arm. He could only hope that Verges was smart enough to know it for the sign that it was.
***
Peter was lost in thought of where Vanessa was and what she was doing when he started at a soft touch to his elbow. He turned to look into the face of Gregory Penchiot.
Gregory had joined him almost a year before and Peter still did not trust him. He had considered letting him go several times, but the man did nothing he could point to with conviction. It was just a feeling, one he could not shake.
“
My lord, may I talk to you?” he asked as he sidled up next to him. “It is quiet important.”
“
Aye, Penchiot, what is it?” Not in the mood for any problems, Peter only listened with half an ear, his mind on his bride. He was not looking forward to the nights without her. More than likely, he thought, he would spend every night with the men.
“
I am not the only one who has noticed...” He fell silent and soon Peter was drawn from his thoughts.
He turned his attention to Gregory. He came to a stop and waited. The men behind him stopped as well. He glanced at them and then back to Gregory.
Gregory smiled lightly and continued. “I mean, I would not say anything against Lady Vanessa...”
Peter scowled at him. “Just tell me. I do not have time for riddles this night.”
Gregory cleared his throat and leaned closer to him. “She has been seen in the garden in the middle of the night and not alone.”
“
What do you mean, not alone? Who was she with?” Peter took a step back, not wanting to here Richard’s name mentioned, but he knew that was what he would hear.
“
One was Richard—”
“
One
?” Peter could not hide his anger.
“
Devon has also been seen in the garden alone with her, Gary as well.” His voice was consolatory, but his eyes gleamed nastily. Peter barely noticed either.
Soft waves of doubt had caressed Peter ever since he had first seen Vanessa with the men. He knew he was jealous, but he had thought it under control. Now as those soft waves began to violently crash against him he knew it was not.
He’d had doubts about her loyalty many times, seeing her with the men and the comfort she seemed to feel around them—comfort she should not feel.