Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

H ow was she going to face everyone?

As she placed her feet onto the rush-covered floor of the bedchamber, Esyllt wondered how she was going to handle everyone’s scrutiny, Matthew’s in particular. He had asked her not to be too harsh toward Connor the day before and he would see immediately that she had not been, quite the opposite. It seemed to her that what had happened last night in Connor’s bed had left an indelible trace on her. She would appear different, she was sure of it, and he would no doubt tease her about it.

And the servants? What would they say behind her back? Had they heard her cries of rapture? It didn’t bear thinking about but she could not see how they wouldn’t have. And what if they had seen Connor leave the room at dawn, looking disheveled and sated, what if they’d noticed the shadows under his eyes, betraying his lack of sleep, what if they’d heard them make love all through the night? How would she live it down?

Mortified, she splashed water onto her face.

The day she could see through the bay window was grey and drizzly. Extraordinary how the weather did not follow personal events. Outside it was as glum as it had ever been when everything inside her felt warm. On the morning she had found Gwyn dead, sunlight had been pouring into the room. She still remembered thinking how incongruous it was to have such a scene of devastation lit up by golden sun rays.

For a long moment she sat on the stone bench, lost in contemplation. What would her first husband think of the feelings she was developing for the Englishman she’d been forced to marry? Gwyn had known their union had not been based on love. Would he be happy that she had found it in her second marriage? She wanted to think so.

Eventually, she stood up. She had to walk out at some point, and face the day, she could not stay in the room indefinitely. Steeling herself, Esyllt descended the spiral staircase. In the great hall there was no one to meet her.

Relief flooded through her. As it was much later than usual, everyone would have broken their fast already, which suited her perfectly. She sat down and helped herself to a loaf of bread that had been left for her, along with some cheese, honey and dried fruits.

She was just finishing her cup of ale when spurred boots were heard on the stone floor behind her. Such a masculine, evocative sound. Her heart leapt in her throat but the man facing her when she turned around was not the one she had hoped for. In fact, he was one of the last ones she wanted to see.

“Gruffydd.”

“My lady.” His bow was perfunctory.

“What brings you here?”

The smile he gave her had all the warmth of a snarl. “What do you think? Our plans. There has never been a better moment to strike.”

“Strike?” She blinked at him.

“Your husband. He’s been here for months now, he will have dropped his guard. I hear he was attacked by Morgan the other day at the village. Methinks it is time to put our plan to execution. Clearly nobody will miss him.”

I will miss him! she almost shouted.

The lump in Esyllt’s throat threatened to choke her. Foolishly she had started to hope that the Welshman had forgotten about his original plans and instead chosen to build on Connor’s unexpected willingness to act as mater of Castell Esgyrn and its domains. She had been married for nigh on three months and Gruffydd had stayed in the shadows all this time.

She understood now that she had only been lulled into a sense of false security. He had been hiding, biding his time like an adder waiting for its prey to get near so as to strike at the opportune moment.

“But, I thought we’d agreed it would be best to?—”

“No, you were the only one believing such nonsense! Cooperation between our two people is simply impossible. Really, how na?ve can a woman be! That is why they should never be privy to important conversations. There can be no accord between us and the wretched English, do you hear, no compromise! They are leeches bleeding the honest Welsh folk dry, nothing more, and they need to be squashed. I hear that your husband ,” he spat the word, “could not even bestir himself to come to the reeve’s election yesterday.”

Anger rose in Esyllt’s chest when she recalled Connor’s pain and the reason for his absence. She would not reveal it to a man who would never understand, but she would defend him tooth and nail. “He had every intention of coming,” she said hotly, “but at the last moment he was prevented from?—”

“Oh, the mighty Lord Sheridan had every intention of coming, did he?” Gruffydd cut in with derision. “Well, that’s all right then. I had every intention of speaking in his defense to the other lords when we devised our plan the other day, but would you believe it, at the last moment I...”

Esyllt didn’t hear the rest of the sentence as a noise coming from the solar above suddenly caught her attention. A mouse? Or worse, someone spying on them?

She felt exposed, as if the walls could hear them, as if the very air around her was witnessing her treachery. Simply talking about betraying Connor, even if she had no intention of doing so, made her feel guilty. Motioning to Gruffydd to follow, she led the way into the bailey. Out in the fresh air, it seemed to her she could breathe marginally better. Still, she was forced to endure more of his ranting.

“After our defeat in ’83, the land was taken over by the blasted English. People have been driven away from their homes and replaced by the enemy’s families, castles have sprouted everywhere to shelter the soldiers sent here to subdue and crush us. This is even worse than in ’77. You were only a child then, but I was a man already and I can tell you as much.”

“Well, perhaps the English have reason to fear a revolt and prepare for it,” Esyllt could not help but reply. “Look at what happened last December with Madog ap Llewellyn. Perhaps they?—”

“Perhaps nothing.” Gruffydd made a cutting gesture. “Madog only did what we were all itching to do, and Gwyn would be ashamed of you.”

“Of me ? I have done nothing wrong.”

“Speaking like you do is wrong. Even trying to explain or understand the workings of the enemy’s mind is wrong.”

Esyllt knew many would agree with him, but try as she may, she could not. Peaceful cohabitation between the two people didn’t seem such a bad option to her. No doubt Gruffydd would accuse her of thinking like a woman, but she thought she preferred prosperity to bloody war. Independence was all very well, but it did not put food in people’s bellies and allow children to grow up safely.

“And don’t think I haven’t seen how you look at that new husband of yours. Fye, are you such a harlot that a pretty face should be enough to make you forget where your allegiance should be?”

“You were the one who chose my husband!” she spat, incensed that he should dare remonstrate with her for having found happiness in her marriage, despite the overwhelming odds. “If you were so worried about my falling for his charms, you should have chosen a man who looked like you.”

Gruffydd glared at her. Indeed, with a husband as ill-favored and intractable as the Welshman, neither her senses nor her mind would have been seduced. She might have been only too glad to be rid of him. But Connor... She didn’t want to be rid of Connor. She wanted to be with him every moment of every day, and night. She wanted to start their married life in earnest, with their two daughters. And after last night, she felt they finally could.

“Perhaps I should have chosen more wisely. Well, no matter, ’tis done now, and we will never surrender,” Gruffydd replied, eyes narrowing. “Every Englishman who presumes to come here and take possession of our land, our possessions, our women?—”

“Women and possessions are not the same thing!” Esyllt gritted her teeth. “And Lord Sheridan did not come here uninvited. He came because you arranged this marriage,” she reminded him once again.

“I did because if it hadn’t been him, it would have been another, more powerful lord, one we could have disposed of less easily,” he snarled. “I did it so that it could serve us, not so that you could fawn over him and open your legs like a bitch in heat.”

The words were like a slap. How dare he speak to her in that manner? “Don’t you go accusing me of wantonness for doing my duty to the man you chose for me. You used me as a pawn in your ambition!”

“And what of it? A woman is useless except as a wife. Why, would you have liked me to use you in a different way?” Gruffydd leered at her, eyes roving over her body, lingering on her breasts. Esyllt fought the urge to cover herself up. She had no reason to be ashamed of her body, it was not her fault he was a lecherous pig. He would not make her feel soiled when only last night Connor had made her feel the most beautiful woman alive.

“How about not using me at all?” she suggested with hauteur. He would not have the satisfaction of seeing she had understood the not-so-subtle hint. “And allow me to deal with my husband as I see fit? It might be in everyone’s interest to let him administrate the domain. He’s proved to be a competent, lenient ruler, and he’s even started to learn Welsh. Surely, that shows he intends this to be a peaceful cohabitation? If you really must, focus your attention on Englishmen who do abuse their power. Heaven knows there are enough of those around.”

“I will focus on whoever I can reach, and you will do what you agreed to do,” he snapped. “You will do the one thing you can do to aid us in our enterprise. Tonight you will open the castle to us so we can slip in and take him in his sleep.”

“No. I will not betray my husband thus.” Esyllt did not even hesitate. “If you want to capture Lord Sheridan, do it in a fair fight. I won’t do anything to stop you.” She would enjoy watching them try, at least.

Gruffydd made a gesture of exasperation. “You know full well that capturing him is not as easy as it sounds. Your husband is not quite the preening, posing courtier we took him for when he arrived.” Esyllt almost let out a snort. How could they have thought that for a moment? It seemed that, just like Morgan the other day, they thought that braveness and strength could only come in the guise of rugged, gnarled men. The fools. “He will not be so easily subdued. Not to mention that his brother is never far from him and just as fierce.”

Yes. A dozen men would be needed to overcome men like Connor and Matthew. Alone they were formidable, together she imagined they would be virtually invincible.

She waited, hoping Gruffydd would leave at last. He didn’t, instead carried on exposing his plans.

“However, if we catch him while he’s sleeping, we might stand a chance.”

She bit her lip. That was exactly what she had thought the night before their wedding. She had ordered her men to seize the man she thought to be the squire while he was at his most vulnerable. And it had worked. Gruffydd was not to know it, and she was certainly not about to tell him as much, but Connor slept like the dead. The middle of the night, when he was oblivious to everything around him, would be the perfect opportunity to strike.

While they continued to glare at one another, the clouds overhead finally collapsed under their own weight and a cold rain started to fall, pricking Esyllt’s skin.

“So,” Gruffydd asked, taking a step forward. “Will you do it? Will you open the side gate?”

“No.”

Her mind would remain unchanged. From the start she had been unsure she could obey Gruffydd’s foul orders, but now she was certain she would never send a man to his death, even if he had been a despised stranger, and Connor was anything but. How could she betray him after what they had shared the night before? How could she hand him over to bloodthirsty savages when she had finally accepted that they could be happy together, and that he would be a good lord to her people? She wanted to give her marriage a chance and her tenants a good master. Neither of those things would happen if she betrayed Connor. If he died at the hands of the Welshmen, then she would have deprived herself of the husband she wanted and her people of a fair ruler. If he survived, he would never forgive her betrayal.

Either way, she would have lost everything.

“Very well.” Gruffydd planted his gaze into hers. “Let us hope you do not live to regret it, Lady Sheridan.”

She smiled sweetly, not in the least ruffled. Why would she regret making sure Connor would remain by her side instead of being handed over to men who would hurt him? No. She would never regret such a thing.

“Thank you for your visit,” she said, walking him back to the stables. Now that she had made her decision clear, she could not wait to be rid of him. “You need not worry yourself about Castell Esgyrn. It is in good hands. As am I.”

Perhaps the provocative words were unwise but she could not resist them. Her discussion with the stubborn old fool who saw women as pawns to be used in all senses of the word had brought home just how lucky she was to be married to a man like Connor.

As they reached his horse, Gruffydd whispered something to the man on his right then turned to face her.

“My lady, it is raining too heavily for you. Please go back inside, I would hate for you to be inconvenienced.”

Would he really? Rather she would have sworn he’d relished the prospect. “Thank you. I wish you Godspeed.”

If he could lie about worrying about her comfort, then so could she.

Walking back to the great hall and the warmth of the hearth, Esyllt wondered at Gruffydd’s lack of anger at her refusal. Why had he taken it so well to be thwarted by a mere woman, a woman he’d thought to control? Everything she knew of the man indicated that he should be furious. And yet, he’d just left without uttering any threats, save to say that she would regret her decision when they both knew she would not.

She shrugged. It mattered not what he thought. As long as Connor slept inside the castle walls and she did not open the gates, the Welsh rebels would not be able to do anything to hurt him, especially if she warned him about the danger they posed to him. Yes... Perhaps it was time she told her husband what he was up against, and what Gruffydd had in mind. After last night, when they had shared the secrets weighing on their minds and made love so passionately, she did not feel as if she could withhold anything from him.

As she opened the door to the great hall, she came to an abrupt halt.

Matthew was staring at her from the side of the hearth.

All the blood drained from her veins. She’d been right. Someone had been in the solar, spying on her. He had seen, heard everything. Even if, mercifully, he would not have understood a word of the conversation, he would not have missed the hatred in Gruffydd’s voice, or the mention of Lord Sheridan. Simply the fact that they had been involved in a discussion would have raised his suspicion.

“Still not plotting, I assume,” he said quietly, walking forward. His brown eyes were gleaming. “The weather must have been particularly noteworthy of late for you two to raise your voices thus. Why, it sounded positively enthralling. I wish I could have understood what you were saying.”

Esyllt felt herself flush. She knew it would only make her appear guilty but she could not help it. “I hope you will agree that what I discuss with my friends is of no concern of yours,” she managed to say.

“Is that what Gruffydd is then, a friend?”

“Of course, what else do you think he is? My lover? Even you cannot be that deluded. I doubt he has managed to woo a single woman with those rough manners of his.” She shrugged, choosing to behave as if he were accusing her of adultery instead of treason. At least this charge she could dismiss with total conviction. But he was not so easily fooled.

“Indeed, him bedding you is not what I am most worried about.”

There was no prize for guessing what he was most worried about. The two of them plotting against Englishmen. She gave a swift smile to hide her embarrassment and looked around.

“Where is my husband?” She had better get to him before his brother poisoned him against her.

“Why do you need to know what Connor does during the day? You know where he is at night, that should be sufficient.”

Esyllt flushed further when she remembered that the night before she had definitely known where he was. Over her. Deep inside her. Matthew’s eyes narrowed as he observed her more closely. Could he see that something had changed between them? Probably not. He probably assumed, like everyone else, that Connor was bedding her regularly, had done so for months, ever since they’d gotten married.

“Spare me your useless comments. Do you know where he is or not?” She needed to see him without delay. Being reminded of the role Gruffydd expected her to play had sent her into near panic and his presence would help restore some calm into her.

“Who wants to know? Your ‘friend’?”

Oh God. Matthew was even more suspicious than she had feared. A thought crossed her mind. Did he speak, or at least understand Welsh? Was he only pretending to be ignorant of what had been said? She wouldn’t put it past him to have learned the language in his bid to protect his brother. He was relentless in his loyalty to Connor and he’d been here for months, time enough to gain some knowledge at least.

Fortunately, she had declined to help Gruffydd. She could not imagine how she would have faced Matthew had she just agreed to betray her husband. She was already uncomfortable when she had done nothing wrong.

Just then hooves clattered over the drawbridge, heralding Gruffydd’s men’s departure. Esyllt allowed herself to breathe more freely. She had nothing to blame herself for. The Welsh lord had indeed been plotting to harm Connor but she had refused in no uncertain terms to aid him. If Matthew really understood Welsh, then he would know it. If he did not, he would simply have to take her word for it. Soon enough, he would have to accept that she would never do anything to harm Connor.

When she spoke to her husband and warned him about the plot against him, she would demand he tell his brother to stop considering her as a traitor.

“If you will excuse me, I still haven’t broken my fast.” This was a lie but he was not to know it. Or perhaps he did, perhaps he was spying on her at all times. It was not impossible.

“Of course. Enjoy your feast, Lady Sheridan.”

After one last murderous glance in her direction, Matthew left the room. Heart beating hard, Esyllt fell on the fur-covered bench behind her. Her situation was odd to say the least, for the person she had to win over in her marriage and who could make her life hell was not her husband but her brother-in-law, a man as intractable as any she had ever seen. How was she to earn his trust? Earning his affection was most likely an impossible task, but at least she could make him see she did not have to be his enemy.

Though she had indeed already eaten, she helped herself to another piece of bread. After last night’s exertions, she was ravenous. A moment later, Jane ran into the room.

“Are you on your own? Where is everyone? Father, Uncle Matthew?”

“They had some important matters to attend to,” Esyllt told her, offering her a slice of bread smothered in honey.

The little girl accepted it absent-mindedly. “I, too, am on my own. But I want Sian,” she said before taking a bite. “Do you know where she is?”

“I don’t.” Esyllt frowned. “Didn’t you wake up together this morning?”

“Yes, of course, we did. But then I went to speak to the cook and when I came back she was nowhere to be seen.”

“I’m sure she cannot be that far. Finish your bread and we will go and look for her.”

“I’m not very hungry.” Jane placed the slice of bread back on the table.

“Very well. Let’s go now then.”

Esyllt stood up. She couldn’t wait to find her daughter. It was the first time in days Sian had left Jane’s side. The two little girls were constantly together and, without knowing quite why, the fact that Jane didn’t know where she was worried her.

Picking up her skirts, she rushed out of the great hall and almost collided with one of the watchmen who was opening the door at the same moment. He took a step back with an apologetic nod.

“My lady. This is for you.”

Matthew, who was cleaning his sword just a few feet away, let out a snort. “Another ‘friend’, Lady Sheridan?” he sneered, glancing at the missive in her hand. “My word, you are a very busy woman. If I were your husband I would?—”

“You are not my husband, so stop behaving as if you were. You remember your brother’s warning, I wager? He will not have you inconveniencing me in any way, and suggesting I have too many lovers to count certainly qualifies as such. I will not stand for it.” She had the satisfaction of seeing his jaw tighten. He knew she was right and Connor would not countenance him harassing her thus. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a letter to read. And yes, before you make any remarks, we Welsh savages do know how to read.”

She made a point of leaving the bailey before opening the missive, as if she truly had something to hide. Let Matthew think what he wanted of her morals, she knew she had nothing to blame herself for. Her satisfaction did not last long, however.

When she finally opened the letter and saw the short sentence scribbled inside, Esyllt’s heart ceased beating.

Clutching at her chest, she fell to her knees in a puddle of skirts.