Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

“ N ot asking where my brother is this morning, Lady Sheridan?” Matthew’s voice, never warm at the best of times, was today reduced to a snarl. “Could that be because you already know he’s nowhere to be found within the castle?”

Her heart was beating so hard in her chest that Esyllt feared he would be able to hear it. She felt as if guilt was etched all over her face. It certainly was carved deep into her soul, so deep she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to take it out, even if by some miracle Connor survived his abduction and then managed to forgive her.

“I... I do not—” Her mind was in so much turmoil that she had no idea what she could say, but in the end it did not matter, since Matthew cut her short.

“Spare your breath. I know that someone ...” His eyes glittered dangerously. There was no doubt as to who he thought that elusive someone was. “Someone gave intruders a way in into the castle last night and those intruders abducted my brother. They left a message nailed to the gate as a warning to me.”

Though she knew all that already, Esyllt forced herself to act surprised. She could tell he wasn’t fooled, which made her insides curdle. Up until today he had only been wary of her intentions, and unpleasant as a result, but not truly dangerous. Now that his suspicions about her loyalty had been proven correct, there would be no quarter.

He planted himself in front of her. Despite herself, Esyllt recoiled. How had she not noticed before that he was just as tall as Connor, and even more muscular?

“Gruffydd was here yesterday and today my brother is missing. Not only that, but you look about to faint when talking to me when hitherto you were brave enough to stand up to me. It doesn’t take a genius to work out what might have happened.” He paused. “Fool that I was, after the other day I thought you two had...”

Matthew eyed her up and down slowly and she knew he was thinking of the night of passion she’d spent in her husband’s arms.

He had thought then, as she had, that this would be a new chapter in their lives.

She swallowed hard at the notion of all she had lost. It was her fault that Matthew was now her declared enemy and Connor in mortal danger. But how could she have done otherwise?

“It’s not what you think,” she said, her voice so low that he likely didn’t hear her.

“I told Connor not to trust you. But did he listen to me?” He shook his head. “Fuck, I should have?—”

“Mam!” At that precise moment Sian came bounding into the room and all the air left Esyllt’s lungs. Finally!

She fell to her knees in one heap. “My love! Oh, cariad !” She caught her daughter in her arms and started sobbing uncontrollably.

“What’s wrong, Mam?”

“Nothing. Nothing.” Esyllt covered the little girl’s face with kisses. “I missed you, that’s all.”

“My, knowing that your daughter was with her beloved grandmother sends you in a frenzy, does it not, my lady? What exactly is the old woman? An ogre?” Matthew snarled, not in the least moved by the reunion. “What sort of a fool do you take me for? I will find out what is afoot here, you see if I don’t. But for now, I have to go get my brother.”

After one last glare at her, he stormed out of the hall. Esyllt guessed he was going to mount an expedition to get Connor back and her heart leapt in hope. If one man could find her husband, it was Matthew. She hoped to God he would get him back before it was too late.

Oblivious to her turmoil, Sian was looking at her with a frown. “I don’t know what Uncle Matthew is talking about. I wasn’t with Nain, but at Gruffydd’s house.” Oh, yes, unfortunately, Esyllt knew this all too well. “He said you’d join me later, and left me with his niece. She’s very nice, but she’s not you. I wish you had been with me.”

Her chest squeezed. She had thought exactly the same thing all night.

“Me, too. Forgive me, I did mean to come, as he said, but at the last moment I was detained here.” It was better if her daughter did not realize she had been abducted, or how close she had come to disaster. For some reason she could not fathom, Gruffydd had chosen not to frighten her, and he had taken her to his niece for safeguarding while he dealt with Connor. Knowing that her child would not be traumatized by the events was small consolation, but at least it was something. “But we are together now.”

“Yes. This is for you, by the way. The woman gave it to me before I left, to give to you.”

The little girl gave her a piece of folded parchment. There were just a few words on it, scribbled in haste.

You held out your part of the bargain so you can have your daughter back.

As she read, Esyllt could almost see Gruffydd’s satisfied smirk. The letter was scrunched into a ball and thrown into the fire in an angry gesture. Yes, she had her daughter back. But Connor, her husband, the man he loved, was still held prisoner. What would happen to him?

Tears in her eyes, she watched as the piece of parchment was slowly reduced to ashes. Though she had burned the other letter, she still remembered its exact wording. She would never forget it for as long as she lived.

We have your daughter. If the postern gate on the east wall does not open tonight, you will never see her again.

It had been a terrible choice, one she wished on no one.

Save her husband or her child.

Sacrifice a strong man, a knight who would have a chance at defending himself or an innocent child who could do nothing and whose loss would traumatize her for life. In the end it had been no choice. Heart breaking, she had ordered Alun, the steward, to give her the keys to the castle. In the dead of the night she had gone to open the small door to Gruffydd and his men. Silent as shadows, they had stolen to the top of the tower, to Connor’s chamber. A moment later they had come back, carrying a limp form between them.

They would have immobilized him before he knew what was happening, perhaps even killed him. No. They would not have killed him outright, as they would no doubt intend to make him suffer first. She had to hold on to that slim hope, if hope it was.

She let out a howl and ran after Gruffydd.

“Sian! Where is she, you beast? You said you would?—”

“Hush, Lady Sheridan, you don’t want to alert the whole castle, do you, and have them witness your betrayal? Fret not, you will get your daughter back tomorrow. Now get back inside. It’s raining. You don’t want to be wet.” He let out a scathing laugh and made to join the men who had thrown Connor across the saddle of a sturdy Welsh pony.

She hit hard at his chest, heedless of retaliation. “And just what are you going to do to my husband?”

“That is none your concern, but be sure he will treated as he deserves.” The voice was icy cold. “Go back to bed where you belong and leave us men to do what needs to be done.”

A moment later the company had vanished into the darkness.

And now Sian was back, but Connor was still in Gruffydd’s hands. It was all her fault. What could she do? Nothing.

Her gaze raked over her daughter, who was looking at her. It was obvious that she had not been harmed, or even suspected what could have happened to her. Sian knew Gruffydd well, that was why she would have followed without too much difficulty if he’d told her he was acting on her mother’s orders. Esyllt barely refrained the urge to curse the man to hell for what he had forced her to do.

“Are you hungry, sweetheart?” she asked, stroking her cheek.

“No, I ate some fruit and bread before leaving. But I want to see Jane,” the little girl answered, oblivious to her distress. “I’ve missed her.”

Jane. Oh, God. Esyllt’s insides collapsed anew. What would she tell her stepdaughter when she demanded to see her father? It would not be long before she asked about him. There would be no other choice but to lie, at least until they knew what had happened to Connor.

“Go to her then,” she told Sian. “She will be happy to see you.”

As she watched her daughter go, a sudden surge of hope pierced through Esyllt. Gruffydd had made a mistake. With her daughter restored to her, her hands were not tied anymore, and if she was powerless, she knew someone who was not, someone who would not rest until his brother was restored to him.

Picking up her skirts, she ran to the gates.

“Wait, Matthew, please, I need your help.” Esyllt was struggling to keep up with his long strides as he made no effort to slow down. She’d found him by the stables, as she’d suspected, shouting orders to the men, getting horses and weapons ready. But he was not paying her any attention.

“I have nothing to tell you. Connor is the one who needs my help.” He stormed toward his stallion, saddle already in hand. “I have to get him back.”

“Yes, but you don’t know where to find him, so you will have to listen to me, or you will lose precious time,” she pleaded. “I can tell you where he is.”

This stopped him in his tracks. “Keep talking,” he said, not looking at her.

“I think I know where Gruffydd would have taken him. If we hurry than we can?—”

“Where?” he cut in, finally facing her.

Despite the blazing eyes piercing through her, Esyllt let out a sigh of relief. With a man like Matthew on her side, even momentarily, she would get Connor back. It was all that mattered. He could unleash his anger on her later, she didn’t care. Whatever he thought of her, he would not let his brother down.

So she told him everything, how Gruffydd had not taken Connor back to his home, unlike what she had suspected at first. When Sian had told her she’d been left alone with the man’s niece, she had immediately guessed he would have taken him to Castell Ewloe instead, the residence of one of his vile friends. The castle, with its unusual location in the middle of the woods, would pass unnoticed to anyone who didn’t know where to look. It was the perfect place for a discreet execution.

Matthew nodded once she had explained where to find the hidden fortress and shouted his last orders. Hope surged anew inside her. Perhaps he would arrive in time to save Connor. Moments later, Matthew was thundering away down the east road on his stallion, followed by five men at arms. Wary to the last, he had refused to take her with them.

Esyllt settled herself for a long, agonizing wait.

It was only as the last rays of the sun were disappearing behind the horizon that horses were seen into the distance. Seven, to be precise. It was one more than the number of men who had left earlier that morning. Esyllt’s heart skipped a beat. Whoever was on the seventh horse, and she knew in her heart it would be Connor, was at least able to ride. If that was the case, then he could not be too seriously injured, much less dead.

She ran to the gate.

Please Lord, let him be whole.

A moment later she gazed into Connor’s green eyes. Her whole body sagged with relief and she had to lean on the barbican’s wall for support. He was here, he was safe. Then she realized he was looking at her as he would to an enemy.

So he knew what she had done.

Her heart seized in her chest while he dismounted, his movements less fluid than usual. He had been hurt then, just as she had feared.

“There, Brother. You cannot ignore it any longer,” Matthew said, jumping down from the saddle in turn. “Your wife is the one who sold you to the Welsh. She told me so herself. Now will you accept her responsibility in the whole affair?”

Well.

Connor had guessed there would be a traitor in the castle. His abduction had been too easy, the hue and cry had not been raised. He simply had not wanted to believe that the traitor would be Esyllt, not after the night they had spent together, not after they had bared their souls to one another. It had seemed too cruel a betrayal.

He bunched his fists, remembering her gasp of delight when he had entered her and the piercing realization that he loved her. For a moment, he had thought that everything would change between them, that they could start their marriage in earnest, but it had all been for nothing.

Fool!

Before addressing a single word to Esyllt, he made for the great hall. He needed food and ale as a matter of urgency. After a whole day spent without a drop to drink or a bite to eat, he was both parched and starving. Fortunately, he found everything he needed on a trestle table by the hearth. It seemed that his wife had been about to partake in a veritable feast, alone in her castle, while he faced his tormentors. The thought did little to lighten his mood. Ignoring her, he chewed on a piece of bread while he poured himself and Matthew a cup of ale.

Esyllt watched him warily all the while. She seemed to think it was better if she waited to let him speak first, in which she demonstrated great wisdom. He felt about to rip her head off and this would achieve nothing. He needed to calm down first.

“Is it true?” he asked once he had satisfied the worst of his thirst and hunger.

Mayhap against all odds there was an explanation for what had happened. His brother had never warmed to his wife and he was biased against the Welsh in general. Connor didn’t think Matthew would lie to him outright, but perhaps he’d gotten the wrong impression. He clung to this hope because thinking that Esyllt was responsible for his capture was just too painful. Still, he could not quite dismiss the possibility out of hand.

There was only one way of knowing. He needed to hear her version of events.

“You need to understand...” Esyllt started, wringing her hands, the very picture of a distressed woman. He hardened himself against the urge to go to her. This could all be an act. He needed facts.

“Is it true?” he repeated. “Did you open the door to the rebels so they could get to me?”

The color invading her cheeks was the only answer he needed. Never had anyone worn their guilt more blatantly on their face, and his question had been too precise for misunderstanding. She had been the one opening the door, no one else. That was a fact. When she started to answer, he interrupted her.

“It’s—”

“I should have guessed anyway. Having a man taken from his bed in the middle of the night seems to be your method of choice. I should know. How did I not see it coming?”

She took a step toward him. “No, you must listen to me!”

“I think I’ve heard enough for now. Matthew, will you go and get Jane please? I’ll meet you back at the stables in a moment. Have our horses saddled again and ready to depart. We’re going back to Sheridan Manor.” As he spoke, he kept his eyes firmly on Esyllt.

His brother left without a word, leaving them on their own for the more private part of the discussion.

“You cannot be leaving right now,” Esyllt gasped. “You’ve only just arrived. You need to eat, the horses need a rest, and we need to talk.”

“I’ve already eaten, the horses will only go at a walk, and we’ve done all the talking I needed to do.”

“Connor, please, you can’t go like this, you’re hurt!”

Yes, he could well guess he looked a fright. There would be cuts on his cheeks and at least a couple of bruises on his jaw. And this was nothing compared to how the rest of his body would look. Connor would be surprised if there was a single place untouched. What would have happened if Matthew had not found him in time? He might well have died, reduced to a bloody pulp by a mob of infuriated Welshmen.

The memory of what he had endured that day hardened his resolve. It was all because of her, the woman he had been married to, who was now acting the concerned wife, but who had opened the postern gate to his enemies, surrendered him to their cruelty for them to amuse themselves with. Gruffydd had given his orders, then inexplicably left at dawn. At the time, Connor had been relieved, as he’d guessed that the men would not resume the torture without him. But unfortunately, his absence had meant that Matthew and his men at arms had not been able to kill him, unlike they had his torturers.

Not to worry. He would find him soon, and get his revenge.

“It’s a bit late to worry about my health, don’t you think? I only got these injuries because of what you did.”

Esyllt opened her mouth as if to protest but no sound came. Good. So she did feel some shame over her actions. It did not exonerate her, but it proved she possessed some conscience at least. He turned around, determined to dismiss her from his mind.

“Wait! You cannot go like this!”

“I can and I will. I doubt you will miss me very much. After all, had Matthew not come for me in time, I would have been gone more permanently. You didn’t seem to have a problem with it then.”

To his surprise, she walked around him to come face him again. There was fire blazing in her eyes.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew the truth about your rescue! But I see that your brother conveniently forgot to mention that I was the one who told him where to find you.” Connor stilled. Indeed he had not known that. But he would not let it bother him. Matthew was very good at extracting information from people. If she had given in to his entreaties or surrendered to his threats, then it was no cause for congratulations. Besides, her knowing where he had been imprisoned only made her guilt clearer. She’d known, and she’d done nothing to get him back. “That alone should tell you I had no intention of letting Gruffydd harm you.”

“It does not. Do I appear unharmed to you?” In an angry gesture, he lifted his tunic and undershirt, revealing his battered body. The beating he had received had been severe, even though he had not been cut. That had been reserved for the following day. He knew because his captors had delighted in informing him of their plans. Little by little they would increase the severity of the beatings, and see how much he could take.

When she saw his bruised flesh, Esyllt blanched so much he feared for a moment she would faint. He almost reached out to steady her.

Almost.

Instead he bunched his fists and covered his body once more.

“I knew they would not kill you outright,” she said after a while. “I knew they would torture you. That’s why after you left, I?—”

“It matters not what you did after you opened the gates to my enemies and allowed them to take me in my sleep!” he snarled. She’d known! Good God, all day she’d known he was being tortured and she had not lifted a finger. That blow hurt more than all the ones he’d received at the hands of the Welshmen. “The damage had been done by then. And don’t go accusing my brother of wrongdoing when he was the one who came to my rescue. I know who I can rely on in this castle—and you’re not one of them.”

That seemed to silence her. He’d thought she might faint a moment ago, now he wondered if she was not about to retch.

He stormed to the stables, followed at a distance by an unsteady Esyllt. Though he was the injured one, she seemed to be the one having difficulty to walk.

At that moment Matthew came back with Jane.

“Father!”

His heart almost gave out when his daughter ran up to him. For a dreadful moment last night he had thought he would not see her again. She was all he had left now that his wife had been exposed for the traitor she was. To think the prospect of being reunited with Esyllt had been what had sustained him while he’d endured the beating! The irony of it twisted at his guts.

“But you’re hurt!” Jane cried out.

“’Tis nothing, sweetheart. I fell into a ditch whilst chasing after Uncle Matthew but don’t worry, I eventually caught up with him, as I always do.” Ignoring the pain in his body, he knelt down by her side. “Now, go get ready. We are leaving for Sheridan Manor. I have urgent business there.”

The little girl made a face. “Now? It’s almost dark.”

It was, but he could not stay another moment in the castle. They would stop outside the village to camp but he had to go now. He could not risk staying too close to Esyllt because he feared her beguiling ways. He needed time to think about the implications of what had happened and decide where they could go from there, or even if they could. He could only do that away from her.

“Yes, we’re going now. There is not a moment to lose.”

“But I don’t want to go back to Sheridan Manor on my own. I wish to remain here with Sian,” Jane glanced back toward the great hall where he guessed her stepsister was waiting so they could resume their game.

Connor hesitated. Could he tear her away from the little girl who had given her her life back? Alone at Sheridan Manor, surrounded by memories of her dead mother and sisters, Jane would be miserable. He never wanted to see her miserable ever again, even if it meant he would suffer a separation.

Besides, his daughter remaining here meant he had an excuse to come back to Esgyrn Castle sooner rather than later. He refused to think he was being weak by leaving the possibility of a reunion with Esyllt open, but he could not deny that a part of him hoped they could one day overcome this setback, severe though it had been.

“Very well,” he relented. “Then give me a kiss, for I shall miss you.”

“Me too.”

After a suitably fierce hug, Jane ran back to the great hall, her mind already on the game ahead. Connor wished he could be like her. Unfortunately, he was not about to forget his wife’s treachery.

“I trust I can leave my daughter here without fear of seeing her abducted by your friends?” he asked Esyllt.

What little color had gone back to her cheeks drained away once more. “How can you even suppose?—”

“I don’t,” he said more amenably. That had been a low blow. “Even I know you wouldn’t go as far as hurting an innocent child.”

“Connor, please.” The use of his name almost undid him. But he could not falter now. Using his heart to think instead of his head had almost cost him his life. He could not afford to make the same mistake twice. “You cannot leave like this. We need to talk.”

“Not now.” She was right, explanations would have to be given. But not now, when he was aching so much, body and soul. What difference would a few weeks make? He needed time to heal and come to terms with what had happened. Then there would be a reckoning.

He turned and vaulted on his horse without another glance at his wife.

His treacherous wife.