Page 25 of A Husband for Esyllt
“Matthew,” Connor called, turning to the corner where his brother was waiting with unusual discretion. “Take Jane to see Siân, then leave, taking the tutor with you. The two of them can get acquainted in private, if my wife agrees.”
Esyllt nodded. Perhaps it was for the best if their daughters found out about one another away from prying eyes. A stronger bond would form that way.If, of course, they found a common ground. That was not guaranteed. In any case, Esyllt congratulated herself for insisting her daughter learn English from the moment she’d been born. She now spoke it without any accent, unlike her, who had learned it much later in life. Teaching her child the invaders’ language had not beena popular decision amongst her friends, but Esyllt had always been of the opinion that one had better be armed to face people who could turn against you when the mood took them. Despising them or hoping they would ignore you did no good. The English were here to stay, only a fool would refuse to accept it.
“Thank you, Father, thank you, my lady.” Jane darted out the door, followed by her smiling uncle. Esyllt arched a brow. Her dour brother-in-law was also a child lover, it seemed. Who would have thought?
Connor turned to his wife, gratitude swelling in his chest. “Thank you for your welcome of Jane.”
He had not mentioned Siân to his daughter before today but his reasons were commendable, he thought. He had not wanted to raise her hopes before everything was finalized, and then he had wanted to see how they would get on. A girl her own age, living under the same roof, and more than just a friend, was what Jane needed to heal.
Having a stepsister could well be a lifesaver for her, which was why he was here.
Left to his own devices, Connor would never have married again but his daughter needed a female presence in her life. Even more pointedly, she needed another child to play with. He had finally surrendered to the king’s entreaty that he marry a Welsh woman purely based on that consideration. Jane’s needs came before his own wishes. He had decided to marry Esyllt when he had been told about her little girl. The other potential candidates had been young, childless virgins or older women with grown sons, neither of which had been what he needed.
“Please,” Esyllt protested. “What else did you want me to do? She is a lovely little girl. I would never treat her in any other way than kindly.” She made a grimace and he braced himself for the accusation he was sure was coming. “Why did you not sayshe was your daughter when I accused you of wanting to bring another women to Castell Esgyrn? How could you do such a cruel thing? You allowed me to assume she was your?—”
“Yes, I did,” he cut in, ruffling his hair with his hand, feeling less than proud of himself. “But perhaps you deserved it for the way you immediately assumed the worst of me. Tell me, do you really think I would be insensitive enough to introduce such a woman under your roof, mere weeks into our marriage?”
She appeared thoroughly chastened by the rebuke, which did little to ease his guilt. It had been cruel to let her torture herself for a week over the idea of him bringing his mistress to Esgyrn Castle, there was no denying it.
“Why did you not say anything? You could have upbraided me in the most stringent terms, and gotten your revenge that way,” she insisted. “Made me pay for thinking the worst of you.”
His mouth twisted. He could have. Most of the men he knew would have done just that, maybe even hit her for daring to speak to him in the way she had. But Connor had never condoned violence against women. “You seemed so certain I was a heartless lecher... I didn’t have the heart to shatter your preconceptions about me.”
She did not let this provocation pass, as he knew she would. Teasing his wife was quickly becoming a favorite pastime of his. “No. I can see why you preferred to make me feel like an ogre in front of the poor child.”
An ogre indeed. He barely repressed a scoff. There was nothing monstrous about the woman in front of him. “Jane thinks nothing of the sort. Or do you not recall she called you beautiful?”
Connor was making light of it, but he had been surprised by his daughter’s reaction to his new wife, and the easy affection Esyllt had shown Jane. Considering she had been convinced shewas about to meet her husband’s mistress, she had recovered from her shock with remarkable alacrity.
“Your brother is not the only one reluctant to pass on relevant information it seems. You failed to mention you had a daughter or had been married, something anyone would agree is worthy of note. Is that because Jane is the product of...” He threw her such a withering look that she did not dare finish her question. But he would not bear to hear that she thought his little girl illegitimate even if, in truth, he understood why she might think it. He had not mentioned a first wife, so she would wonder who Jane’s mother had been.
“She is not a bastard,” he said through gritted teeth. “Her mother and I were married when she was conceived.”
“So you are a widower, then. When did you think to inform me of that fact? Didn’t you think I had the right to know?”
“What difference would it have made for you to know I was a widower or had a child?”
His wife did not seem to think that this was a reasonable question. “None, admittedly, but still, I would have liked to know!”
“Why? We both know our union was never based on anything other than very pragmatic considerations. Our pasts or personalities didn’t have any role to play in the decision. In your case, you weren’t even the one choosing me.”
Icy silence filled the room and Connor regretted his words. What was wrong with him? Why had he felt the need to remind her she had been used as a pawn in a man’s game? As a woman, she’d had even less choice than him.
“I thank you for the reminder,” Esyllt hissed. “But I hadn’t forgotten that fact.”
“Forgive me. That was not kind of me.”
“No. It wasn’t.”
Just when he thought she would storm out of the room, she asked. “How did your wife die?”
Her voice was calm, her anger under control once more. Nevertheless, he found it hard to answer that question, because, if he suspected Esyllt had not really killed her husband, as she claimed, he certainly felt responsible for Helen’s death. Matthew had tried to tell him many a time that it wasn’t the case, but he still wasn’t convinced he was blameless in the whole affair. He might never believe it and carry the guilt to his grave.
“A fever,” he said tersely. That was no lie, but it was not the whole truth either. Still, it was the best he could offer for now. Esyllt, bless her, seemed to sense it and did not press him.
“Jane seems a lovely girl.”
“She is.” Instantly the anxious man was replaced by the proud father. “Thank you again for welcoming her so warmly. She has been through a lot lately.”
