Matthew found his brother in the training yard, swinging a broadsword so ferociously that he couldn’t help but think he’d arrived just in time.
‘Have you spoken to Constance?’ Alan dropped his weapon at the sight of him, bowing to his opponent and then striding purposefully in his direction.
‘Yes.’ Matthew cleared his throat, hoping that his face didn’t give away what else they’d been doing. For the first time in his life he was finding it difficult not to smile.
‘And? How did she take it?’
‘How did she...?’ For a moment, he couldn’t remember what they were talking about. ‘Oh... Good. Quite well, really...considering.’
‘You told her the truth about Blanche?’
‘Yes... It took a while.’
‘I wondered where you’d got to.’ Alan gave him a strange look. ‘You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were blushing.’
‘If you think that then you really don’t know me.’
‘If you say so... Anyway, I’m glad it went well. I like her.’
‘So do I.’
‘Obviously.’ If he wasn’t mistaken, his brother actually smirked. ‘Which is why you should give her what she wants and take her back to Lacelby. Get her away from here.’
‘What about us?’ Matthew put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. ‘I want us to be close again, the way we used to be.’
‘We already are.’ Alan gave him a lop-sided smile. ‘I just needed to make you sweat a little first. Besides, it’s not as if Lacelby’s that far. We’ll still see each other.’
Matthew glanced wistfully towards the keep. The idea was tempting and it would certainly make Constance happy... Suddenly that seemed the most important consideration of all.
‘Are you certain you don’t mind?’
‘I wouldn’t say so otherwise. Now go and pack.’
‘Wait.’ Matthew tightened his grip on his brother’s shoulder. ‘You still need to be careful. You have to know there can never be anything between you and Adelaide. She’s Father’s wife.’
‘I know. What I said before...’ Alan shrugged, though the gesture seemed somewhat forced. ‘It was just wishful thinking. She probably only thinks of me as a brother.’
‘Perhaps, but if Father even suspects how you feel...’
‘I won’t do anything stupid, I promise, at least not without talking to you first. Does that make you feel better?’
‘A little.’ Matthew held on to his brother’s gaze uncertainly. Alan sounded convincing, but there was still a hint of defiance behind the bravado and if it turned out that Adelaide did return his feelings... Well, Matthew didn’t want to think about what might happen then, but there was nothing else he could say or do. Alan was a grown man, after all, capable of making his own decisions. And mistakes... ‘In that case, there’s something else I need to talk to you about. Only I need your promise that you won’t breath a word to anyone, Adelaide included.’
‘Of course, if it’s important.’
‘It is.’ Matthew glanced around surreptitiously. ‘It’s about the King. You know John’s behaviour has become more and more tyrannical over the past few years? Well, the campaign in France was the last straw. The barons want him to agree to a charter limiting his powers.’
‘But surely he’ll never agree to that?’
‘He will if he has to.’ Matthew threw a swift look over his shoulder, making doubly sure that no one else was within earshot. ‘I’ve been helping to gather support, identifying those nobles who might get behind the barons if it comes to a stand-off.’
‘Against the King?’
‘Hopefully it won’t come to that, but it’s a possibility. In the meantime, we need to know if John sends any word to his supporters.’
‘Meaning Father?’
‘Exactly. If he receives any messages, I need to know.’
‘And you’re afraid of Father finding out about my feelings for Adelaide?’ Alan let out a low whistle. ‘This is really dangerous, Matthew. I’ll come and tell you if any messengers arrive, but Father’s temper is even worse than it used to be. If he finds out what you’re involved in...’
‘I’m not the youth I was when I left.’
‘True.’ Alan gave him an appraising look. ‘Does Constance know about this?’
‘No. The fewer people who know, the better.’
‘But if something goes wrong, John could take your lands away from you, couldn’t he?’
‘It won’t come to that. Constance loves Lacelby. I won’t let her lose it.’
‘But what if you can’t stop it? If things go wrong and you haven’t warned her...’
‘I know.’ Matthew felt a stab of guilt, unwilling to acknowledge the possibility. ‘But I gave my word that I wouldn’t tell her. I can’t break it.’
‘As long as you know what you’re doing.’
‘I thought that I did.’
Matthew frowned. Maybe Alan was right and he ought to warn Constance, but just the thought of admitting that he had yet another dark secret to tell her filled him with dread. Ever since arriving in Wintercott their marriage seemed to have been nothing but a string of difficult conversations. Well, that and one amazing morning in bed. How could he go back to their chamber now and announce that he had something else to tell her, especially when he’d as good as denied having any more secrets? He hadn’t lied—he’d told her there were no more dark secrets about his family—but the deliberate evasion had still caused him a pang of guilt.
The worst part was that Alan was right. If the rebellion failed, John wouldn’t hesitate to take Lacelby away from him, which meant taking it away from Constance, too. She could lose the home she loved all over again. Because of him. Again. She’d definitely regret not taking the annulment he’d offered then—the annulment he’d just made it impossible for her to obtain.
He ran a hand over his brow. Maybe bedding her hadn’t been the wisest course of action after all, only now that he had, he could hardly think of anything other than doing it again...
‘I can’t break my word and it’s too late for me to back out now.’ He spoke firmly, trying to convince himself. ‘And even if it wasn’t, I believe in the charter. I doubt it will come to war and if it does...the barons will just have to win.’
‘Just like that?’ Alan gave him a penetrating look. ‘Well, whatever happens, I’m on your side. Only take her home first.’
‘Thank you.’ Matthew gave his brother one last pat on the shoulder and then started back towards the keep. Alan was right about that, too. No matter what else, he had to take Constance home first. Under the circumstances, it was the least he could do.
‘I hear you went back to the roof again?’ Matthew was halfway across the hall when his father’s voice stopped him. ‘That’s twice in two days.’
‘I didn’t realise you were paying attention.’
He turned towards the hearth, though he didn’t advance. His father was sitting in his customary throne-like chair, a pair of grey hunters sprawled at his feet like sentinels. There was nothing but air between them, but as usual Matthew was aware of an invisible barrier, too, a wall of tension that made his jaw clench and his muscles tighten. He couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been aware of that barrier. Somehow it had just always been there, from the day he was born most likely, an extension of his father’s mood, sometimes malicious, sometimes moody, frequently menacing. Today, it was most definitely the latter.
‘I pay attention to everything that goes on here. You of all people ought to know that.’ Sir Ralph got to his feet slowly. ‘You’ve toughened up while you’ve been away, boy. I didn’t expect you to have the nerve to go up there at all.’
‘Then I’m glad I can still surprise you.’
‘Surprise?’ His father’s voice sharpened. ‘The only surprise is that you thought you could deceive me again.’
‘I’ve nothing to hide.’
‘Is that so?’ His father closed in on him, halting just out of arm’s reach. ‘Do you think I don’t know what else you’re up to?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘I think that you do. Only I thought you had more intelligence. Challenging a king is no small feat.’
Matthew stood his ground, struggling to keep his expression aloof as his mind raced. If his father already knew about the plot, not to mention his involvement in it, then surely it meant that the King did, too. Which meant there were more spies in England than either he or the barons had thought. He’d have to send word to Jerrard as soon as possible.
‘I’m not challenging anyone.’ He kept his voice firm.
‘But you’re planning to do something, you and your friends.’ His father’s eyes narrowed. ‘Whatever it is, I’m ordering you to stop. You’d do better to tell John what’s happening behind his back and then beg his forgiveness.’
Matthew almost laughed aloud with relief. ‘You mean you don’t already know? But I thought you were aware of everything?’
‘I want details!’
‘Then you’ve come to the wrong man.’
‘If you don’t confess, then I won’t be able to protect you.’
Matthew gave an incredulous snort. ‘Do you want to?’
‘What do you think will happen if you fail?’ Sir Ralph shoved his face forward belligerently, daring him to flinch. He didn’t. ‘John won’t be merciful. I haven’t seen him in years and I can’t rely on the past...’ An expression of something like panic flitted across his features. ‘You’re my heir.’
‘Heir.’ Matthew curled his lip on the word. Not son, just heir. For one preposterous moment, he’d thought that his father might actually care about his safety, but the warning had nothing to do with him personally. As usual, it was all about Wintercott.
‘You mean you’re afraid he might punish both of us and take your precious estate away?’ If he hadn’t been so disgusted, he might have laughed at the irony. He could hardly have asked for better protection than that!
‘You will not endanger my property!’ A vein in his father’s forehead started to throb. ‘I started with nothing, do you know that? My father was an impoverished drunk who gambled away the remnants of his own small fortune. He sent my mother to an early grave with his behaviour and then followed her soon afterwards. I know what it is to have nothing, to be all alone in the world, too. Everyone I ever cared about abandoned me! Everything I have now, I’ve earned!’
‘Everything you have, you’ve married.’ Matthew folded his arms. ‘It was my mother’s fortune that built this place. The rest all came from your other wives. Not that you ever thanked any of them. They were the ones who paid and suffered for it.’
‘It’s still mine—’ Sir Ralph’s eyes flashed ‘—and what you’re doing risks all of it.’
‘Perhaps, but I don’t follow your orders any more. I make my own decisions now.’
‘I’ll disinherit you.’
‘Go ahead. You have two sons.’
‘Alan?’ His father’s voice practically dripped with contempt. ‘He’s not fit to run Wintercott.’
‘He’s fit for more than you think.’
‘Like running away with my wife?’ his father sneered. ‘Or do you think I don’t know about that either? I’m not blind. He’s like a lovesick puppy around her. Everyone can see it, only the fool thinks he can hide it.’
‘You’re mistaken.’ Matthew made a move towards the stairwell, but his father blocked the way.
‘Why do you think I tolerate his behaviour?’ He pushed his face closer again, his features contorted with enmity. ‘Because it amuses me. Because he amuses me. As if she would ever care for a pathetic weakling like him.’
‘Alan isn’t a weakling.’
‘He’s not a man either!’
‘So you enjoy mocking him? Why, when you—?’ Matthew stopped mid-sentence, too late to stop his father’s lips spreading into a malicious smile, as if he’d simply been waiting for him to ask the question.
‘Why do I tolerate the same behaviour in him that I punished in you?’
‘It’s not the same.’ Matthew felt his temper start to rise. ‘I wasn’t in love with Blanche. I must have told you that a hundred times. If you’d believed me, she wouldn’t have become so desperate.’
‘She was only desperate because of you!’
‘There was nothing between us!’
‘She was still mine!’
Matthew’s fingers twitched into fists. ‘Is that why you hate me so much? Because you think she loved me and I took her from you? Like she was just another castle, another possession?’ He was aware of his temper spiralling, but he seemed unable to do anything to control it. ‘You might have owned her body, but you never even knew the rest of her. You never tried to know her. You never showed her the slightest bit of affection or kindness, let alone love. That was all she wanted, but all you’ve ever cared about are things and you don’t give a damn about the people around you. You only want to control them. Me, Alan, Blanche, now Adelaide, too!’
‘Blanche was a whore! I’m better off without her.’
Until that moment, Matthew wasn’t aware that he could move so quickly. His hands were around his father’s throat and squeezing tight before he knew what he was doing.
‘She never betrayed you. She came to me for help because she was lonely and unhappy. Because of you.’
‘She...was...a...whore!’ Even bulging, his father’s eyes still glistened with anger.
‘She—was—your—wife!’
Constance dressed reluctantly. Given the choice, she would have preferred to stay and luxuriate in the warm space left by Matthew’s body—especially since he’d told her he wouldn’t be long—but she didn’t want anyone else to come in and find her either. Not that Susanna or any of the other maids would say anything, but she already felt different enough, as if she were a whole new person to the one she’d been that morning. The change would surely be obvious enough without her lying around naked as well!
There was a dull throbbing sensation between her legs, though the memory of their lovemaking that morning still made her smile. It was the last thing she’d expected to happen when she’d followed him up to the roof—the last thing either of them had expected, judging by the look on his face when she’d asked why they had to wait—and yet somehow it had felt right. The truth about Blanche had brought them closer together instead of pushing them apart so that now she felt optimistic about the future again. About their marriage, too. They hadn’t spoken any words of love, but she cared about him and he behaved as if he cared about her. Surely it was just a matter of time...
She ran a hand over her mouth, still vividly aware of the feeling of his lips against hers, then slipped on a pair of kidskin slippers and ventured out into the gallery. At least Adelaide was unlikely to ask any questions about where she’d been or for how long. She was probably unlikely to get more than a glance out of her. Which, this time, suited her perfectly.
She went back into the solar where Adelaide was still sitting and took up the sleeve she’d been working on before, though no sooner had she sat down than she shot up again, startled by the sound of loud voices from the hall below. Even from the floor above, she recognised Matthew’s, raised in anger.
‘You shouldn’t go.’ Adelaide’s voice brought her to a halt as she made for the door again.
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s best to keep away.’ The other woman didn’t lift her gaze from her sewing. ‘There’s nothing you can do.’
‘I still have to try!’
Constance hurried out of the solar, down the stairs and into the hall, coming to an abrupt halt at the sight of Matthew with his hands clamped around his father’s throat.
‘Matthew!’ She called out his name and he spun around instantly, though his face was almost unrecognisable, filled with a look of such fury that she almost stepped backwards herself. For a long moment, he simply stared at her, his expression shifting between several different emotions, before he loosened his hold and shoved, sending his father sprawling into the floor rushes.
‘Call her a whore again and I’ll finish what we started five years ago.’
She stiffened at the words, the hostility behind them sending a cold shiver down her spine. Apparently they weren’t the only ones who’d been talking about Blanche that day.
‘Go ahead.’ His father clutched at his throat, making rasping sounds as he staggered back to his feet. ‘You couldn’t beat me then and you won’t beat me now, boy.’
‘I’m not a boy.’ Matthew turned his back, fixing his eyes on hers and moving towards her as if she were a beacon. ‘Neither is Alan.’
‘Then you can get out of my home. Wintercott is mine for as long as I draw breath and you’re not welcome here any longer.’
‘I never was.’ Matthew didn’t bother to look around, grabbing hold of her hand and pulling her after him. ‘We’re leaving.’