Page 66 of Suddenly a Bride
He frowned. “You had a suitor?”
“He was as old as my father and felt he could use our noble connections to make his business more prosperous. He even offered money to my family.”
“And the Langstons took this away from you.”
She touched his arm and leaned towards him. “No, Edmund, you misunderstand. I didn’t want to marry him. He only wanted me because of the earl and for my work in his shop and for—” She broke off, knowing she was blushing, but unable to stop herself. “And in his bed,” she continued in a softer voice. “I almost married him for my family.”
“And instead you were forced into a marriage with me.”
“But I chose to accept,” she said, seeing how remote his expression had become. “I was fortunate. That is why I’m asking for your help. If you could see your way to offering a small dowry to each of my sisters, then they, too, might have a chance to have good lives.”
A few minutes passed before he spoke. “Gwyneth, believe me when I say that if I could help, I would.”
She felt her stomach clench, and the last of her hopes began to fade.
“But the only money I have is your dowry, and I have already spent most of it on the castle. The remainder I’ve set aside to help my people survive the winter.”
“But…you’ve had this castle for several years. Why is there no other money?”
His expression hardened. “There was—once. And I trusted my steward with it. I thought he would want what was best for the future of the estate. But while Elizabeth was my wife, unbeknownst to me the Langstons controlled the steward.”
“You mean Martin Fitzjames. You had Geoff replace him.” She was almost afraid to talk, for fear he wouldn’t explain.
He nodded. “Last year they funneled two years’ worth of profits through him to their daughter. They pitied her, since she was married to me. By the time I returned from France, she had already spent it. I was forced to continue my mercenary work to keep the villagers fed after several years of bad harvests. The next time I returned, she was dead.”
“And you were injured.”
“Aye. And now I can do nothing but be a landowner and hope that the harvest is good.”
Another part of the mystery of her husband was revealed, and it frightened her. She looked into his cold face, his remote eyes, saw the way his hands were clenched where they rested on the table. “Do you wish you could still fight?” she whispered, feeling the hatred inside him as a physical presence in the room.
“Every day. ’Tis all I know. ’Tis what I excel at.”
“You’ve done good things here, Edmund,” she said, taking one of his fists between her hands. “And you’ve done it all without violence. You just have to be patient. I know you’ll succeed.”
He looked down at their clasped hands, then back into her face.
“Perhaps your faith is misplaced,” he said. “I cannot help your sisters.”
“Aye, but you are already helping everyone here. Did not Mrs. Haskell and a few of the maids spend the night? ’Tis a good sign.”
“But staying here still put them in danger. Your cousin was found chasing Nell through the castle.”
“Harold? Edmund, you don’t mean—how could he possibly—”
“He claims he thought she was attracted to him. I told him the rules he must abide by, and he apologized to the girl. In fact, since he has not made an appearance, I shall have to roust him out of bed.”
“Perhaps he has already risen and is hard at work.”
He only grunted his response.
She smiled at him, then returned to a thought she’d had earlier. “What about Martin Fitzjames?”
“I asked him to leave, but he claims to have nowhere to go. Where Elizabeth was concerned, he says the Langstons threatened to kill him, so he had no choice but to follow their orders. Now he claims that if he leaves the safety of my lands, they’ll follow through on their threat.”
“You are generous to allow him to stay, even though he seemed angry about losing his steward position to Geoffrey.”
“He was, which seems foolish, considering I could have banished him. But I put him in charge of organizing the foodstuffs and supplies that are already within the castle. Heseemscontent.”
