Page 43 of The Forsaken
“In what way? Are you no longer loyal to Henry and Margaret?” Guy demanded.
“Guy, let’s face it, the Lancastrian cause is lost. Margaret is a brave and cunning woman, and if she were a man, she’d make a formidable king, but Harry is weak and ineffectual. Some say that his madness has progressed and he’s barely aware of what’s being done in his name. King Edward is the future, and I would be a fool to pass up the opportunity to switch sides at a time when it won’t be viewed as treason, but rather as good sense.”
“William would not have approved.”
“William is dead and I’m now head of the family,” Hugh reminded Guy, not without anger. “If we are to survive, we must take advantage of this God-given opportunity.”
“And what of the Earl of Stanwyck? He’s our liege lord. We can’t simply change sides,” Guy argued.
“Stanwyck is no fool. He can see for himself which way the wind is blowing. He’s ready to declare for Edward, and that makes our desertion of the Lancastrian cause afait accompli.”
“And what if Kate decides not to marry you and returns to the priory?” Guy asked, hoping Kate would do just that.
“I’ve taken care of that,” Hugh replied with a smirk. “The thought no doubt crossed her mind, so I tumbled her and put an end to that plan. She can never return to the priory now. Her conscience wouldn’t allow it. Besides, she might already be carrying my son,” Hugh added as he got to his feet.
“You forced her?” Guy growled, outraged that the brother he trusted and respected would be capable of such a vile act against a lovely girl who’d been nothing but kind to them.
“Of course not. I’m not some thoughtless brute, Guy,” Hugh retorted, his color rising. “And I am marrying her, so I only took what was rightfully mine.”
“Hugh, youwillmake her happy, or you’ll have to answer to me.” Guy’s tone brooked no argument and he glared at his brother with contempt.
“Happy?” Hugh echoed, looking genuinely puzzled. “What does a woman need to be happy? She’ll have a roof over her head, my affection and protection, children, and expensive gowns. We must appear prosperous if we hope to get ahead and improve our fortunes, so she’ll want for nothing. Of course she’ll be happy.”
“Do you love her?” Guy asked.
Hugh shrugged. “I desire her; that’s enough. I’d like to think that in time I’ll grow to care for her. I’m not like you and William, Guy. I’m not sentimental,” Hugh explained without any rancor.
“Hugh, please, be kind to her,” Guy said, his voice thick with feeling.
“I will be very kind to her, as long as she never gives me a reason not to be, as would any husband. I think I’ll go visit my bride and see how she’s settling in. I have an itch that needs scratching.” Hugh winked at Guy, smiling at his own wit. “Don’t be jealous, little brother. We’ll find you a wife soon. In the meantime, Nurse can give you a hand. I’m sure she’d enjoy it.” Hugh made a lewd gesture, leaving Guy in no doubt of what he meant, laughed uproariously, and left the room. Guy heard his laughter echoing through the empty corridor as he made for the stairs.
It should have been you who died, and not Will, Guy thought bitterly and instantly regretted the sentiment. That was disloyal, and it was God’s will who lived and who died, not his. He would miss Will though, not only as a brother, but as a mentor. William had been an honorable man, loyal to those he cared about and merciful to those he fought against. He had lived by his own code of honor, a code Hugh knew nothing about. Hugh had always been the most cunning and self-serving of the three of them, but William had believed that once Hugh grew into manhood, he’doutgrow the tendency to scheme and manipulate. He had been wrong. Deceit was simply a part of Hugh’s nature, just as decency had been a part of William’s. Guy supposed that some would congratulate Hugh on his quick thinking and finding a way to turn the situation to his own advantage, but when Guy thought of Kate’s sweet face and trusting gaze, he wanted to weep. She was innocent and kind, and not equipped to deal with a man like Hugh, who’d use his connection with her family to further his own ambitions.
Guy pressed his palms to his eyes as a headache began to build, blurring his vision. He was sure Kate had not lain with Hugh willingly. Hugh wouldn’t rape a woman; that wasn’t his way, but he’d surely manipulated the situation to make it easier to take Kate and practically impossible for her to resist. Guy prayed that Hugh hadn’t hurt her and that he would try to be a good husband to her. Hugh hated complications, so it would make his life considerably easier if he had a sweet and compliant wife. He would treat Kate well enough as long as she showed him due respect and fulfilled her wifely obligations, but the idea of Hugh and Kate as a wedded couple still burned Guy’s insides until he felt like he was going to be sick.
He had a brief vision of Kate lying beneath Hugh as he thrust into her again and again, and Guy’s right hand instinctively went for his sword. He cried out in pain, reminded of his injury and the absurdity of his feelings. Kate wasn’t his to protect or defend from her betrothed. Surely, she could have convinced her father to refuse Hugh if she didn’t wish to marry him. Perhaps this was what she wanted, Guy reasoned, as he cradled his aching arm. He hardly knew her, and his desire to protect her was misguided and self-serving. He wanted Kate to see him as her champion, her lord, when in fact, he’d be nothing more than her crippled brother-in-law.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Kate was in the Lady Chamber with Eleanor when Hugh came to find her. She supposed the room’s name would make more sense if there were more ladies, but Eleanor had been the only woman to use the room since Marie de Rosel died nearly twenty years ago. The two women sat companionably as Eleanor mended Adam’s hose, which he was forever snagging, according to her. Adam sat in front of a low table, his father’s chess set before him. He didn’t know how to play, but he enjoyed moving the pieces around the board, acting out a great battle in his imagination.
“Can you teach me how to play, Uncle Hugh?” Adam asked, looking up from his battlefield.
“I don’t see why not,” Hugh replied. “My father taught me to play when I was about your age.”
“Your father taught you?” Adam asked, staring up at Hugh.
“Yes, he did. He was still alive then, as was my mother,” Hugh explained.
“How old was my lord father then?”
“He was ten, but he no longer lived at home because he was a page to a great lord.”
“And Uncle Guy?” Adam asked.
“Uncle Guy was hardly more than a babe in arms. He still wore a gown,” Hugh replied with a wistful smile. “He toddled after me all day long, whining for me to play with him.”
“He played chess?” Adam asked, his eyebrows disappearing into his hair in astonishment.
