Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

"B rend?"

Brend was bent over the hoof of his big, spotted warhorse, one that Denys had purchased for him as a gift from the same dealer he'd purchased Vulcan from. In fact, Vulcan was in the next stall, munching loudly on his grain, as Brend looked up at the sound of his name.

He knew that voice.

Arabella was approaching, smiling timidly as she came near. "I have been looking for you," she said quietly. "In fact, I looked in here a few moments ago but didn't see you because you were back in this stall."

He smiled at her, dropping the hoof he'd been working on. "I came here to think," he said. "I think best when I'm doing something with my hands. Something to keep busy."

Arabella's smile faded. "Are you thinking about Dera?"

Brend sighed heavily, turning back to the horse. "Aye."

Arabella watched him as he went back to the hooves. "She's very upset, you know," she said quietly. "My mother and I spent the past hour comforting her. What on earth did she do that would cause you to shout at her so?"

Brend picked up a shaggy hoof, using a big, metal pick to clean it out. "She did not tell you?"

"Nay. But she had blood on her and she said it was not hers."

"It wasn't."

"Who did it belong to?"

Brend didn't say anything for a moment. He continued scraping out the hoof. "It belonged to one of the knights from Northbeck," he finally said. "Dera killed him."

Arabella's eyes bugged. "She what ?" she gasped. "She killed him? In heaven's name, how did she do that?"

Brend let the hoof drop and stood up. "The knight was battling Cort and Dera jumped on his back and stabbed him through the neck," he said. "She plunged into a swordfight with men twice her size and could have gotten herself killed. That is why I shouted at her."

Arabella stood there with her mouth open. "I can hardly believe it," she murmured. "Why would she do such a thing?"

Brend shook his head, setting the hoof pick aside. "I don't know," he said. "Bella, I don't even know her. She's a stranger to me. She's my sister, that is true, but the way she thinks… it is not the way I think."

"You think like an Englishman," Arabella said softly.

He looked at her. "But I am not English," he murmured. "If I was English, things would be different."

"Like what?"

"We would be married by now."

Arabella's features softened. "I wish we were," she whispered. Then, a smile creased her lips. "What dreams shall we speak of today, my love?"

He smiled, but it was sadly. It was a game they played in the moments they spent alone, which were few and far between. They would speak of the dreams they had for each other, where they would live or what they would do. The last time, Brend had spoken of the journey he wanted to take Arabella on to see the great sights of Rome. It was something that kept their spirits alive in a world that was trying desperately to crush them.

It was a game that they both lived for.

"I spoke of mine the last time," he said quietly. "It is your turn. What dream do you have for us today?"

She beamed. "Today, we live at Bedingfeld Manor," she said. "You know the place. Such a lovely manse in the country. We live there with our children and horses and dogs, and I cut flowers in the garden as you manage our estate."

"And we are happy?"

"Deliriously so."

He smiled faintly. "We could be nothing else," he said. "Bedingfeld is a peaceful place."

She nodded, the glow of hope in her eyes as she spoke. "Bedingfeld has a small contingent of men that you would be in command of."

"Naturally," he said. "How many children do we have this time?"

"Six," she said. "All boys. But the youngest one would be my baby and he would never leave me."

Brend chuckled softly. "Boys must go to foster," he said. "Even the baby. You could not keep him forever."

"Why not?"

"Because he must grow up."

"You sound like my father when it comes to Damey. That is what he tells my mother."

"And he is correct."

"But if my baby leaves me, I would be all alone."

"You would have me."

Her expression brightened. "Of course," she said. "How foolish of me."

"Not foolish, love. But with all of those children, it is understandable that the husband would be forgotten."

She giggled and he winked at her, turning to pick up a brush and going to work on the coat of his horse. Even when they were alone, they never touched one another for fear of being seen. It would be a horrifically serious offense, more for Brend than for Arabella, so it was best they keep their distance.

But it was a struggle.

Brend had kissed Arabella once and it was a moment in their lives that they were both living on. One sweet kiss, one night in the dark, and it was the most important thing that had ever happened to them. That had been about a year ago and Arabella had to admit she was aching for more kisses. She longed for the man to put his arms around her, to hold her close, but he never did.

He couldn't.

It was a painful, lonely existence for the two of them but, somehow, their love continued to survive.

But the truth was that Arabella was becoming restless.

"And what is your dream for me today?" she asked quietly. "Are we still in Rome?"

He nodded as he brushed out the horse. "I have never been there, but I have heard that there are many sights to see," he said. "Great arenas where men used to fight to the death and great shopping bazaars where you can buy exotic fabric or perfumes."

"It sounds wonderful."

"I am certain that it is."

"Then why can we not go? Not just in our dreams, I mean. Why can we not go in reality?"

He focused on brushing the horse. "This is our reality, Bella."

"It is because we have made it so. But I want to go to Rome."

"You know that is not possible. I do not even know why you would bring that up."

Arabella leaned against the wall of the stall. "I have been thinking, Brend," she said. "I do not want to have dreams for the rest of my life. I want to marry you and bear your sons. I do not want to be speaking of a journey to Rome when we are old and gray, and regret never having actually gone. Surely you cannot be content with dreams for the rest of your life."

His brushing slowed. "We have discussed this many times, Bella," he said. "You know it is not possible."

"I know it is not possible in England," she said, growing unhappy. "In England , Brend. But we can speak to Papa and he can send us to France. We could marry there. You know this; we have spoken of it before."

"Aye, we have spoken of it."

"Are you telling me that you are content to dream with me for the rest of your life?"

He sighed faintly and looked at her. "Must we speak of this now?"

"When else do you think we should speak of it?"

He scratched his head. "This is something we have spoken of before, many times," he said quietly. "We cannot marry now."

"Now? Or ever?"

"We cannot marry now so long as it is illegal for us to do so."

"What if it is illegal forever? What then?"

He set the brush down. "I don't know," he said honestly. "You know my reservations."

Arabella looked at him for a moment before stepping back. "I know you do not want to shame generations of MacRohan legacy knights," she said. "But they are dead and I am alive. Would you rather uphold the honor of dead men than marry the woman you are in love with? When are you going to choose me , Brend? So far, in the two years we have loved one another, you have never chosen me. You choose your family honor over a woman who loves you. Is that fair to me?"

By the time she was finished, Brend was looking at his feet, his jaw ticking. "It is not fair to either of us, but until I can figure out…"

She cut him off. "You have had two years to figure this out," she said. "I want to be with the man I love. I want children and a home, and I want to do it with you before my father decides to betroth me to another man. He could very well do that, Brend, and I will have no choice."

He was still looking at his feet. "What would you have me say, Arabella? We have been through this before. There is nothing new I can say to you that you have not already heard."

Arabella stared at him. She knew where he stood on family honor; he was a legacy knight and he would not betray that. She had held out hope he would choose their love over his family's oath, but she was coming to see, increasingly, that he would not. They had these conversations perhaps once a week and, each time, she grew more despondent. The man wouldn't betray his family. Not even for her.

Perhaps he just didn't love her enough.

The tears began to come.

"Don't say anything," she said hoarsely. "I am tired of listening. I love you, Brend. More than the stars love the night, I love you, but I will not waste my life loving a man who loves his legacy more. A man in love would choose his heart over a family who sent him away when he was five years of age to strangers to raise. I am just… tired of this. Of all of it."

With that, she turned away, tears filling her eyes. She hadn't taken two steps when she heard his voice behind her.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he said softly. "Please don't… don't hate me for doing my duty."

She paused, turning her head but not quite looking at him. This day's conversation had been particularly painful.

"You have a choice," she said tightly. "Your duty or me. You cannot have both. Make your decision soon, for I simply will not spend my life pining for a man who does not view me as the most important thing in his life. You said you loved me, but you do not. Not really. No man who loved a woman would treat her the way you have treated me."

With that, she left the stable, struggling not to sob. As she quickly wiped at the tears that would not stop falling, for her mother would be nosy if she saw that her daughter had been weeping, Arabella caught sight of Dera storming across the kitchen yard with a basket in her hand.

Arabella couldn't even work up the curiosity to wonder what Dera was doing.

She had her own problems to deal with.

And they were destroying her.