Constance sat on the edge of her bed, dragging a comb slowly and painfully through the tangled chaos of her hair. After a bath, the damp tresses looked midnight black and reached almost to her knees. At that precise moment, however, she was tempted to pick up a knife and cut half of them off. The knots were worse than ever today, though that was hardly surprising after she’d tossed and turned for most of the night. Not to mention every other night for the past week, too.
She heard Matthew’s voice outside in the bailey and scowled, aware of a knot of resentment deep in her stomach, too tight and twisted for her to unravel with rational thought, no matter how hard she tried. The shock of his confession had finally worn off, but she still couldn’t help but feel angry.
It wasn’t even because he’d kept such a big secret from her! He’d given his word to not tell anyone about the charter and she could respect and admire him for that, but it was hard not to feel bitter about how much he’d risked—was still risking. Even if it had all been decided before their reunion in Lincoln, they’d been married when he’d decided to join the rebellion. Which he’d done without any thought for her!
The most ironic part was that she agreed with him. If the King was so corrupt, then he did need to be challenged, but Matthew still might have considered how his actions would affect her, not to mention Lacelby. Instead, he’d gone ahead and made every decision himself. Just like he had five years ago. If she were feeling disloyal, then she might have called his behaviour tyrannical, too. She might even have said he was the man she’d feared at the start, usurping all control over her life and home.
She finally succeeded in unravelling the last tangle and then tossed the comb aside, looking around the room with a loving eye. This was her home, the place that she’d longed for during the five years she’d spent with her cousins. Now she’d finally found her way back, not just here, but to her self, making her peace with the past and finding a sense of belonging again. After the first week of sleeping in her old bed, she and Matthew had even moved into her parents’ old chamber, the biggest and most comfortable room in the keep, though they hadn’t made love since Jerrard had visited. They hadn’t talked about it, or much else for that matter, reserving their conversation for neutral topics like the weather.
The rift between them had grown deeper and deeper every day. He hadn’t said that he loved her again and she hadn’t said it either. It was a petty form of revenge, she supposed, withholding the words when she knew in her heart they were true, but somehow the declaration had frozen on her lips. He’d kept so many secrets that it seemed fitting somehow. She didn’t want to love a man who kept secrets and risked her home without so much as mentioning it to her. She didn’t want to love a man she resented either and yet, in the moment when he’d first mentioned the possibility of lands and lives being forfeit, she knew she hadn’t thought of Lacelby at all. All she’d thought of was him.
If only there would be some news from London to alleviate the atmosphere of tension! The week since Jerrard had left felt like an eternity, with all her nerves permanently on edge. Even her steaming hot bath that morning hadn’t succeeded in removing all the knots from her muscles, though she felt marginally better. Now all she had to do was put on a dress and a brave face for the day ahead.
Reluctantly, she coiled her hair over one shoulder and pulled on a plain russet bliaut, wandering across to the window to peer outside. The rain of the past month had given way to an occasional dusting of snow, but today the skies were a cloudless, halcyon blue.
She was just about to turn away again when she caught sight of a dark blur approaching the gate. The shape was unmistakably that of a horse and rider and, from the speed at which they were riding, it could only be a messenger. Which meant...
She spun towards the door in less than a heartbeat, hurtling recklessly down the stairwell and headlong through the hall, past a startled-looking Tomas and outside without stopping to tie back her hair or put on a pair of shoes.
‘Matthew?’ she called out from the keep steps. He was already talking to the new arrival. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’
‘This is Baldwin, a trusted messenger from Jerrard.’ He held his arms out to catch her as she barrelled into him. ‘The barons have reached London.’
‘Oh.’ She closed her eyes in relief. ‘Thank goodness. And the King?’
‘He’s agreed to meet them in the Temple Church to discuss a compromise.’
‘When?’
‘Soon.’ He paused meaningfully. ‘Which means it’s time for me to go. Jerrard’s summoned me.’
‘Why?’ She felt her heart start to thud painfully against her ribcage. ‘You said he told you to stay and protect the north.’
‘He did, but now they’re safely in London, the immediate danger has passed. Now the King needs to know he’s outnumbered.’
‘So you’re going just to make a point?’
‘I’m going to help to persuade him to sign the charter.’
‘But...’
‘It won’t be for long.’
‘How do you know?’ She put her hands on her hips, about to protest some more when she noticed the messenger gawking at her dishevelled appearance. ‘You must be hungry.’ She tossed her head as if there were nothing unusual about the sight of a barefoot, barely dressed lady arguing outside with her husband in winter. ‘Go into the hall and I’ll arrange some food.’
‘Thank you, my lady.’
‘You need to go back inside, too.’ Matthew placed a hand on her lower back, though he didn’t draw her towards him. ‘Your hair is still wet and...’ he glanced down and lifted an eyebrow ‘...are you barefoot?’
‘I was in a rush.’ She pulled her hands off her hips, walking alongside him back to the keep. ‘I wanted to know what the messenger had to say. At least it’s good news.’
‘I hope so.’ Matthew frowned. ‘Although it’s hard to tell with John. He’s a master of stalling. He could say one thing today and the complete opposite tomorrow, but at least it’s progress. Now come on. I need to make preparations.’
She stopped dead. ‘You mean you’re leaving today?’
‘As soon as possible. I need to reach London in time for the negotiations.’
‘But it’s almost noon and the messenger needs to rest. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?’
‘He can follow me tomorrow.’
‘I’d be happier if you rode with someone.’
‘I’ve ridden alone in worse places.’ He looked at her seriously. ‘I need to go, Constance. I helped start this rebellion. I can’t walk away from it now.’
‘So you’ve already made up your mind?’ She couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice. ‘Again?’
‘It’s what I have to do.’ He gave a taut smile. ‘And if anyone can take care of Lacelby while I’m gone, it’s you. It was what you said you wanted, remember?’
‘Then I’d better help you pack.’ She lifted her chin to hide her expression of hurt. She could manage Lacelby on her own. Only it wasn’t what she wanted, not any more.
‘You’re sure you know what to say?’ Matthew stood by the doorway, his stance tense, regarding Constance intently.
‘Yes! We’ve been over it at least ten times.’
‘Because it’s important. If anyone comes from the King, you need to know what to do.’
‘Bolt the gates and load the trebuchets?’
‘It’s not siege warfare and this is serious.’
‘So you’ve said. Repeatedly.’
‘Constance...’
‘I know.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Deny knowing anything about the charter. Claim to be outraged and say I always thought there was something sinister about you.’
‘Exactly. If you need help, send word to Alan or your uncle.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ve no intention of throwing myself on your father’s mercy.’
‘Stay as far away from my father as you can.’ He drew his brows together. ‘He has spies everywhere. It won’t be long before he finds out that I’ve gone and where to. If he summons you to Wintercott, find reasons not to go.’
‘Why?’ She looked at him dubiously. ‘What do you think he might do?’
‘I’m not sure. Probably nothing, but it’s best to be careful.’
He rammed a spare tunic into his saddlebag. What did he think his father might do? He couldn’t put his finger on what was worrying him exactly, only the vengeful glint in his eye when they’d left Wintercott made him distinctly uneasy. On reflection, perhaps strangling him hadn’t been the best tactical move.
‘I’ve been thinking.’ Constance’s tone shifted. ‘If things go wrong, we could escape to Aquitaine.’
‘You’re already planning our escape?’
‘We ought to have a plan. Aquitaine seems like the logical choice. You said you’ve already been and I have family there. I’m sure my mother’s relatives would take us in.’
‘If things go wrong, I need to stand with my friends.’
‘What about me? What about us?’ Her eyes flashed with a burst of temper. ‘You know, just for once you could at least pretend to care what I think!’
‘Constance...’
‘Don’t Constance me! Ever since we got married, you’ve made all the decisions. You sent me to live at my uncle’s. You decided when to come back and collect me and you decided that we should go to Wintercott first! You even decided that we should stay longer for your brother. You made it sound like a question, but it wasn’t, not really. Everything we’ve done since the day we first met has been your decision! You’re as big a tyrant as the King or your father!’
He froze at the accusation. Was that how she really thought of him, as a tyrant? It was true that he’d made a lot of decisions, too many perhaps, but not all...
‘I still offered you an annulment.’
‘Without being honest with me. You could have hinted or something! If I’d known about any of this...’ She stopped without finishing the sentence and he felt his heart plummet.
‘What are you saying? That if you’d known then what you know now, you would have given a different answer?’
‘I don’t know.’ She dropped her gaze evasively. ‘All I know is that I’m sick of feeling so powerless. It’s exactly the way I felt five years ago.’
Powerless. He frowned at the word. It was the way he’d felt back then, too. ‘I’m sorry, Constance, but believe it or not, I do understand how you feel. My father made me feel the same way. Which is why I have to do this. I have to stop him from abusing his power, too.’
‘So I might lose my home just so you can get your revenge?’
‘I already told you it’s not that. There’s a difference between revenge and justice.’
‘I still don’t want you to go to London. It’s too big a risk.’
‘Trust me, I’ve no wish to be condemned as a traitor either, but it’s a matter of honour.’
‘You’d abandon me for honour?’
‘Yes.’ He held her gaze, willing her to understand. ‘Without that, I really am no better than my father or John. Please understand, the charter is important. More than me or us or Lacelby. It’s for the future. Our children’s future, too.’
‘Children?’
‘Yes. Lots of them some day, I hope.’
‘Oh.’ Her expression wavered and then turned defiant again. ‘Well, maybe I have honour, too. Maybe I won’t deny all knowledge of you to the King’s men if they come.’
‘Don’t say that.’ He knitted his brows together. ‘You have to.’
‘No.’ She jutted her chin out. ‘I don’t have to do anything. You’ve made all of your decisions on your own. I can make my mine, too.’
He took a deep breath, acutely aware of the new sense of restraint between them. Just a week ago, he would have pulled her into his arms, whereas now... Now she was only a few feet away, but it might as well have been miles. The distance seemed impassable somehow.
‘You’re right. I’ve kept too many secrets and made too many decisions without you, but this is the end of it. I’ll be back as soon as this meeting with the King is over and from now on, I’ll consult you on everything, I promise.’
‘You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.’
‘It’s true. I want to make decisions with you, Constance. It’s just that I’ve become used to being on my own, to not sharing my thoughts or feelings. I never even imagined sharing my life with anyone. I didn’t know how to. I didn’t want to come back to England either, but I did and then I met you. Now I want to be married, to live here with you and make decisions together. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need you to give me one last chance and trust me. After this, you can make every decision you want.’
She lowered her chin slightly. ‘You really mean it?’
‘Yes. Only I have to know that you’re safe and that you’ll distance yourself from me if you need to. If it comes to it, you have to forswear me. Please, Constance, promise me.’
‘All right.’ Storm-blue eyes flickered with an expression he didn’t recognise. ‘I will.’