Page 63 of The Forsaken
“Oh, there is a reason. Hugh will never allow me to take another husband. He’s too shrewd for that. If I marry, my husband will become father to my son and assume control of the de Rosel estate until Adam comes of age. And if anything were to happen to my boy, God preserve us, he would get it all. No, Hugh will keep me here until I shrivel up and die, unless the situation changes.”
Kate was about to protest but saw the truth in Eleanor’s words. Eleanor wasn’t as naïve or trusting as Kate had first assumed, and now that she was out of mourning, her mind had turned to her future and she didn’t like what she saw. But Eleanor wasn’t one to make demands, at least not outright. Bluntness wasn’t the way to influence Hugh. Eleanor never argued or did anything to anger him. She was all feminine frailty when he was around, bringing out his chivalrous side. Hugh was in control of Eleanor’s fate, and she’d do anything to keep him sweet—a skill Kate had yet to learn—but Kate was sure her sister-in-law would get her way in the end. If Lord Dancy died, Hugh would inherit the entire Dancy estate, making it easier for him to let Eleanor go since he would no longer be dependent on the de Rosel lands for survival.
“Hugh should really do something about Guy,” Eleanor continued.
“How do you mean?”
“I mean that Guy is five and twenty, and still unwed. He’s a fine-looking man, if not wealthy in his own right, but if Hugh found him an heiress, that would bolster all our fortunes. Of course, the only way an heiress’s family would consider Guy would be if her reputation were slightly tarnished. Guy could follow Hugh’s example and bag himself a noble lady,” Eleanor said with a sly smile, clearly referring to the circumstances of Kate’s own marriage. She studied Kate’s mutinous expression. “You don’t look pleased with my suggestion. Don’t you think it’s time Guy took a wife? I wager that his giving his affections elsewhere would make you none too happy. I see the way he looks at you. It reminds me of how Hugh looked at me when I first married Will. That’s the thing with brothers, they always want each other’s toys.”
“It’s not my decision whether Guy marries or not, so it matters little if I’m pleased with the idea.”
“No, you don’t get to make any decisions,” Eleanor agreed. She never stopped reminding Kate that she wasn’t the mistress of Castle de Rosel. Of course, Eleanor was mistress in name only, but that seemed to be enough for her. It gave her that small bit of authority that she so desperately needed.
“I don’t want to sew anymore today,” Kate said. “My head is beginning to ache. I think I’ll go rest for a bit.”
“Suit yourself,” Eleanor replied. “I prefer being here to sitting in my room. At least here I’m not completely alone. Lord, I even miss Walter, that impudent little whelp.” She sighed. ‘I think he finds me beautiful.”
“I’ve no doubt he does.” Kate left the Lady Chamber and went to her room. She didn’t really have a headache, but she couldn’t bear Eleanor a moment longer. Normally, she wasn’t this bad, but being cooped up in the castle while the snow fell made her irritable and argumentative.
Kate meant to come down for supper but changed her mind. If Eleanor chose to be waspish, she’d have to dine alone. Kate hoped that Eleanor got the hint and would try to restrain herself in the future.
THIRTY-SEVEN
The following morning, Kate had already finished mending the torn hem of her chemise by the time Eleanor appeared in the Lady Chamber, having broken her fast with Adam. She smiled warmly and took her customary seat by the hearth. “I slept well last night, so I’m in better spirits,” she announced.
Kate lowered her gaze to her work and smiled. She suspected that was about as close as Eleanor would ever come to an apology, but Kate was glad that she realized how spiteful she’d been the day before. With just the two of them together day in and day out, their emotional well-being depended on them getting along, even if they’d never truly be friends.
“I do hope the snow stops soon,” Eleanor said as she glanced toward the window. “Adam’s restless. A young boy needs exercise and fresh air.”
“Why don’t you ask him to give Alf a hand?” Kate suggested. “Alf’s been clearing a path from the kitchen to the stables and kennel every day since it started snowing. He’s got a bad cough and his chilblains are painful. Joan’s been putting ointment on them, but I don’t think it’s working.”
“Why’s Jed not helping him?”
“Jed’s taken to his bed. Aileen is looking after him.”
“Oh, I do hope it’s not catching,” Eleanor gasped. “I must warn Adam to keep away from him.”
“It’s just a chill. He’s on the mend,” Kate explained.
“Well, that’s good then. I’ve told Adam time and again that he’s not to fraternize with that boy, but Adam still seeks him out.”
“Adam doesn’t have anyone to play with.”
“I know.” Eleanor sighed. “Adam should have had brothers and sisters, but God didn’t see fit to bless me with another child. I lost a daughter not long before you arrived. And now with Will gone…”
“I’m sorry, Eleanor. It must be very difficult for you.”
Eleanor’s gaze misted with unshed tears. “I’m just lonely, Kate. I’d been with Will since I was a girl of fifteen, and now I’m all alone. Another few years and Adam will be taken from me. I’ll see him a few times a year, but he’ll no longer be mine. And then he’ll become a squire, and a knight. He’ll be a grown man and I’ll be an old woman. I just can’t accept that nothing of importance will ever happen to me again.”
“You mustn’t think like that. You’re still a young woman. Things might change.”
“I’m three and twenty, Kate. I only have a few good years left in me. And I do so long for more children.”
Kate nodded. At least in this, she and Eleanor were of the same mind. Kate longed for a child. She might not love Hugh as Eleanor had loved Will, but she would love his baby because it’d be her own. The thought of holding an infant to her breast, loving it and rearing it had her nearly bursting with longing. And although every woman wanted to give her husband a son, Kate wished for a daughter because a girl would remain with her for much longer than a boy. She’d have her girl for at least fifteen years.
Kate squinted hard as she tried to thread her needle. She was finding it more and more difficult to see the eye of the needle and sometimes it took a dozen tries to get the job done. Eleanor helped her from time to time, but Kate didn’t like to ask. She finally managed to slide the thread through the tiny hole and was about to return to her mending when she experienced a wave of nausea so strong it took her breath away. Her hand instinctively went to her stomach, which seemed to be in the process of turning itself inside out.
“Kate, you’re as white as a sheet,” Eleanor exclaimed.
