Matthew found his father’s marshal where he’d left him standing beside the gatehouse, looking very much like a man who’d just seen a ghost. That he was shaken was obvious, but then Walter remembered better than most what had occurred five years ago... He’d been coming out of the keep when it happened.
‘Is everything all right, sir?’ Judging by the way he was avoiding his gaze, clearly Walter didn’t want to talk about it either.
‘Fine,’ Matthew answered curtly. He didn’t intend to be rude, but at that moment it seemed to be all he was capable of. He’d just behaved abominably to Constance, though in truth, he’d been just as shocked by his behaviour as she was. It was as though he’d been watching the scene from outside his own body while a kind of madness had seized hold of him. Only the sight of his wife—his wife!—standing so close to the spot where he’d last seen Blanche had made the whole world turn black. Just as it had five years ago. He’d run up the stairs like a man possessed, every second stretching out like an eternity, his only thought to get her away from the edge.
Goodness only knew what she must think of him now! It was bad enough that he’d shouted at her on the roof, but the way he’d practically dragged her back to their chamber had surely made things even worse! He’d offended and no doubt scared her. She hadn’t cried or cowered, thankfully, but she must have wondered what kind of monster she was married to. The last thing he’d ever wanted to do was hurt her, but the evidence of it had been there right in front of his very eyes! Then he’d refused to answer her questions—not that that had stopped her from guessing the truth—and then walked out on her for the second time in as many days. Last night, he’d been able to use her exhaustion as an excuse to avoid painful explanations, but today there was no getting around the fact that he’d simply run away...
‘It ought to be enough to see us through to the spring.’
He frowned, belatedly realising that Walter had resumed their earlier conversation about the harvest. Which was a relief, although there was another more difficult subject they still had to discuss.
‘What about my father?’ He mentally braced himself for the worst. ‘How has he been?’
Walter scuffed the ground with his boot. ‘There were a few incidents with girls from the village, but none that I know of since he married again.’
‘Has he sired any children?’
‘I don’t think so, but his temper is even worse than it used to be. It’s a relief to have you back, sir.’
‘It’s not for long, I’m afraid. I’ll be travelling to Lacelby with my wife in a few days, but I’ll be close by,’ he added quickly at the sight of Walter’s crestfallen expression, ‘in case you need me.’
‘That’s good to know, sir.’ The marshal looked around nervously. ‘But I ought to be going. Sir Ralph won’t be pleased if he finds out I’ve been talking to you.’
‘I understand. Thank you, Walter.’
Matthew rubbed a hand over his face, heaving a sigh as the marshal hurried away. At least his heartbeat was finally returning to normal, but the rest of him was still awash with a riot of conflicted emotions. It had been foolish of him to think that he could come home and avoid the memories, not to mention the pain. It had been bad enough before he’d seen Constance on the roof, but now it was worse than ever. Everywhere he went in the castle, everyone he spoke to, reminded him in some way of Blanche. Nobody mentioned her directly, of course, but she was still there, like a ghost reflected in their eyes, shadowing his every move. They all remembered what had happened, too.
He tried, yet again, to push the memory of her out of his mind, making his way through the gatehouse and visiting some of his old acquaintances instead. It was a welcome distraction, even if he couldn’t stop himself from glancing up at the keep roof every so often. Only the steady flow of people heading towards the inner bailey in the late afternoon made him realise that it was almost time for the evening meal and he must have missed the dinner horn.
He groaned inwardly, hurrying back to the keep and through the already crowded hall. No doubt Constance would be sitting upstairs on her own, still shocked and angry, waiting for him to return and probably regretting their marriage, her opinion of him sinking lower and lower with every passing second. Perhaps if he hurried then he could still salvage the situation. There wasn’t time to explain everything—not that he wanted to—but he could apologise again, admit that he was in the wrong and ask her to come down to dinner...with his family.
He groaned again, out loud this time. His family! As if that were any inducement! When he’d returned to the hall the previous evening, Alan had already gone, Lady Adelaide had been silent and his father had seemed determined to spend the entire evening staring into the fireplace. He’d spent an hour in their joyless company and then retired to his chamber, sleeping in a makeshift bed on the floor instead of disturbing Constance. He’d woken early enough to clear away any sign of it that morning, but the way things were going, he’d need it again tonight. Somehow he doubted his wife would be in the mood to share a bed any time soon.
He was just entering the stairwell when he caught sight of her on the dais, seemingly engrossed in conversation with Alan, though he had the distinct impression that she was making a point of not looking in his direction. He breathed a sigh of relief, glad to find she wasn’t waiting upstairs for him after all. Thank goodness for Alan. No matter what his brother thought of him, at least he wasn’t taking it out on her...
‘You’re making a habit of being late,’ his father greeted him with his customary lack of warmth. ‘Have you been looking over your inheritance?’
‘I’ve been renewing acquaintances.’ Matthew gave a tight-lipped smile as he walked past, making for his wife’s side.
‘I apologise for my tardiness.’ He made a bow when he reached her. ‘I was just on my way upstairs to find you.’
‘Thank you, but I’m perfectly capable of finding my own way to dinner.’ Constance’s expression was guarded. ‘Your brother has been keeping me entertained.’
‘Indeed?’
‘I’ve just been telling her about Wintercott.’ Alan gestured around the room with a cynical expression. ‘This place is our father’s pride and joy, after all.’
‘It’s certainly impressive,’ she agreed.
‘It ought to be with the amount of money he spends on it. He reserves his affection for cold stone walls, you see. He’s much fonder of it than he is of us.’ Alan’s gaze landed on Matthew’s face. ‘Of course, all this will be yours some day. You won’t be able to avoid it for ever.’
‘I’ve no intention of doing so.’ Matthew lifted his chin, resenting his brother’s mocking tone, however accurate the words. ‘I’m here now, aren’t I?’
‘And leaving again soon.’
‘Because we intend to live at Lacelby. Constance misses her home.’
‘Ah, Lacelby.’ Alan’s expression softened. ‘I’ve been there a few times myself over the years. It’s a beautiful place and the estate is doing well. You’ll find that not much has changed since you left.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Constance’s face beamed with enthusiasm. ‘I can’t wait to get back. I have so many ideas.’
‘Then you must tell me about them during dinner.’ Alan smiled. ‘If you’ll do me the honour of sitting beside me, that is?’
‘I’d be glad to.’
Matthew gritted his teeth, ignoring his brother’s triumphant expression as he led Constance towards the table. Apparently apologising would have to wait, especially since Alan seemed determined to come between him and his wife. Now the only seat left at the high table was the one at the far end beside Lady Adelaide. Just when he thought his day couldn’t get any worse.
He trudged towards it, wishing he hadn’t bothered returning to the keep at all. He wasn’t even particularly hungry and now it seemed he was destined to spend the meal in silence. The rest of the hall was a thrum of noise and activity, but his new stepmother seemed oblivious to everything. Not that he was in the mood for conversation either, but she made him uneasy. She didn’t as much as turn her head as he sat down, staring blankly at the tablecloth instead, her expression so empty that it made his stomach twist with foreboding. He recognised that expression. It was the way Blanche had looked once, too. Empty and hopeless and utterly devoid of emotion, as if something inside her had died.
He looked down, focusing his attention on the tablecloth as well. As usual at Wintercott, when it came to comfort, no expense had been spared. The table looked fit for a king, or the friend of a king anyway, bedecked with plates and cups and even a salt cellar of silver rather than wood.
‘I heard there was some excitement earlier.’
His father’s voice, coming from the other side of Adelaide, made him tense again, though he did his best to keep his voice even.
‘How so?’
‘Up on the roof.’ His father’s smile was positively reptilian. ‘From what I’ve heard, there was quite a commotion.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t call it that.’ To Matthew’s surprise, it was Constance who answered. She was sitting on his father’s other side and he hadn’t thought she’d been listening.
‘Really?’ His father’s eyes narrowed with a look of irritation.
‘No. I was simply taking a look around, saw Matthew in the bailey and waved for him to come and join me so he did. I wouldn’t have thought that was a commotion.’
‘I heard he ran up to the roof like a man with hunting dogs on his heels.’
‘I suppose so, but I thought it was very romantic.’ She looked past his father, straight into Matthew’s eyes with an expression of such innocence that he almost believed it himself. Unfortunately, romantic was the last word he would have used to describe his earlier behaviour, but since she was offering to help...
‘I was just delighted to see you were awake.’ He inclined his head, playing along. ‘I’m only sorry I had so much to do today. I’ll show you around properly tomorrow.’
‘I’d like that.’ She turned her gaze back to his father. ‘Wintercott is such a breathtaking place. Alan has told me a few things about it, but I’d love to learn more.’
His father grunted, though as usual when it came to Wintercott, he was unable to resist taking the bait, launching into a detailed description of his recent building projects.
Matthew sat back in his chair, looking at his wife with a new sense of regard. She’d rescued him. After the way he’d treated her earlier, he hadn’t deserved it, but she’d done so anyway. He’d have to thank her later. When he’d finished apologising, that was.
It wasn’t long before servants appeared bearing platters of honeyed chicken with almonds, mutton and spiced beef, capons and bread, an even greater feast than he’d expected. According to Walter, the bulk of the harvest had been collected before the bad weather had arrived, but the continued rain meant that some tenants were still struggling. It would have been better to be cautious with food in case the winter proved to be a long one, but restraint had never been his father’s style.
‘May I offer you something to eat?’ He turned to face the silent woman beside him. As far as he could tell, she hadn’t yet lifted her eyes from the tablecloth, though now she gave a small nod, allowing him to place a few slivers of chicken on to her trencher before lifting a hand to show it was enough. The mutton, capons and beef she waved away entirely, accepting only a small piece of bread. It was barely enough to feed a bird, he thought critically, taking a more generous helping for his own trencher, but then Lady Adelaide was a lot like a bird overall, dainty and frail-looking like a wren or a sparrow.
He stole another glance along the table towards Constance. Dainty and frail weren’t words that could ever be used to describe her, not that he was complaining. He was glad to see that she’d regained her appetite again today, too. Alan had piled her trencher so high it looked in danger of toppling over, although he noticed she didn’t make any objection. Just as she hadn’t objected to his brother’s company either, he thought with a twinge of something that felt alarmingly like jealousy... As he watched, she lifted a piece of meat to her lips and then licked her fingers. The sight made every nerve in his body stand to full and almost painful attention.
‘How does it feel to be home?’
He was so busy staring at Constance that it was a few moments before he realised his stepmother was talking to him. Even her voice was bird-like, high-pitched like a chirrup, and so quiet that if she hadn’t been looking straight at him then he might have thought he’d imagined it.
‘It’s strange,’ he answered hesitantly. Now that she was looking straight at him, he had the uncanny feeling she would somehow know if he was lying. There was a peculiarly watchful quality about her, as if she saw much while saying little. ‘It’s not easy coming home after so long.’
‘Alan’s pleased to see you.’
‘Is he?’ He wasn’t sure which surprised him more, the words themselves or the fact that she was still talking to him.
‘Yes.’ Her voice quietened even further, forcing him to lean closer. ‘It might not seem like it, but I know that he is. When your father told us you were coming home, there was such a look on his face...’ Something that was almost a smile swept across her features and then faded again. ‘He’s been back and forth to the gatehouse so often this past week, looking for you. I know that you plan on leaving again soon, but he’ll be hurt if you do. You should talk to him.’
‘My wife said the same thing—’ Matthew felt a stab of surprise ‘—and I’ve told her I’ll try, but I’m afraid you’re both mistaken. Alan’s made his feelings about me perfectly clear.’
‘He’s proud. He won’t ask you to stay himself.’
‘So you ask for him?’
‘Yes. He’s a part of my family now.’ Her gaze flickered briefly. ‘Will you stay longer?’
He hesitated for a moment and then shook his head. ‘My wife is eager to return home.’
‘Surely a week or so won’t make much difference?
‘I made her a promise.’
‘Then ask her if you can break it. It would make such a difference to Alan.’
‘Lady Adelaide...’
‘Please.’
Seaweed-green eyes widened with a pleading expression and he clenched his jaw, struck by the disquieting conviction that she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. More than that, he suspected that the only reason she’d spoken to him in the first place had been to persuade him.
‘I’ll ask her—’ he threw another look down the table, just in time to see Constance turn her face quickly to one side, as if she’d been looking at him ‘—but I’m not making any promises.’
‘Thank you.’ Lady Adelaide smiled as if she hadn’t heard the last part of his sentence. ‘It will make Alan so happy.’
Matthew made a face. Making someone happy... That would make a pleasant change, especially when he had the strong feeling that his request was going to make his wife anything but.
In his personal opinion, the sooner they got out of Wintercott, the better.