Page 50 of A Husband for Esyllt
Her mind would remain unchanged. From the start she had been unsure she could obey Gruffydd’s foul orders, but now she was certain she would never send a man to his death, even if he had been a despised stranger, and Connor was anything but. How could she betray him after what they had shared the night before? How could she hand him over to bloodthirsty savages when she had finally accepted that they could be happy together, and that he would be a good lord to her people? She wanted to give her marriage a chance and her tenants a good master. Neither of those things would happen if she betrayed Connor.If he died at the hands of the Welshmen, then she would have deprived herself of the husband she wanted and her people of a fair ruler. If he survived, he would never forgive her betrayal.
Either way, she would have lost everything.
“Very well.” Gruffydd planted his gaze into hers. “Let us hope you do not live to regret it, Lady Sheridan.”
She smiled sweetly, not in the least ruffled. Why would she regret making sure Connor would remain by her side instead of being handed over to men who would hurt him? No. She would never regret such a thing.
“Thank you for your visit,” she said, walking him back to the stables. Now that she had made her decision clear, she could not wait to be rid of him. “You need not worry yourself about Castell Esgyrn. It is in good hands. As am I.”
Perhaps the provocative words were unwise but she could not resist them. Her discussion with the stubborn old fool who saw women as pawns to be used in all senses of the word had brought home just how lucky she was to be married to a man like Connor.
As they reached his horse, Gruffydd whispered something to the man on his right then turned to face her.
“My lady, it is raining too heavily for you. Please go back inside, I would hate for you to be inconvenienced.”
Would he really? Rather she would have sworn he’d relished the prospect. “Thank you. I wish you Godspeed.”
If he could lie about worrying about her comfort, then so could she.
Walking back to the great hall and the warmth of the hearth, Esyllt wondered at Gruffydd’s lack of anger at her refusal. Why had he taken it so well to be thwarted by a mere woman, a woman he’d thought to control? Everything she knew of the man indicated that he should be furious. And yet, he’d just leftwithout uttering any threats, save to say that she would regret her decision when they both knew she would not.
She shrugged. It mattered not what he thought. As long as Connor slept inside the castle walls and she did not open the gates, the Welsh rebels would not be able to do anything to hurt him, especially if she warned him about the danger they posed to him. Yes... Perhaps it was time she told her husband what he was up against, and what Gruffydd had in mind. After last night, when they had shared the secrets weighing on their minds and made love so passionately, she did not feel as if she could withhold anything from him.
As she opened the door to the great hall, she came to an abrupt halt.
Matthew was staring at her from the side of the hearth.
All the blood drained from her veins. She’d been right. Someonehadbeen in the solar, spying on her. He had seen, heard everything. Even if, mercifully, he would not have understood a word of the conversation, he would not have missed the hatred in Gruffydd’s voice, or the mention of Lord Sheridan. Simply the fact that they had been involved in a discussion would have raised his suspicion.
“Still not plotting, I assume,” he said quietly, walking forward. His brown eyes were gleaming. “The weather must have been particularly noteworthy of late for you two to raise your voices thus. Why, it sounded positively enthralling. I wish I could have understood what you were saying.”
Esyllt felt herself flush. She knew it would only make her appear guilty but she could not help it. “I hope you will agree that what I discuss with my friends is of no concern of yours,” she managed to say.
“Is that what Gruffydd is then, a friend?”
“Of course, what else do you think he is? My lover? Even you cannot be that deluded. I doubt he has managed to woo asingle woman with those rough manners of his.” She shrugged, choosing to behave as if he were accusing her of adultery instead of treason. At least this charge she could dismiss with total conviction. But he was not so easily fooled.
“Indeed, him bedding you is not what I am most worried about.”
There was no prize for guessing what he was most worried about. The two of them plotting against Englishmen. She gave a swift smile to hide her embarrassment and looked around.
“Where is my husband?” She had better get to him before his brother poisoned him against her.
“Why do you need to know what Connor does during the day? You know where he is at night, that should be sufficient.”
Esyllt flushed further when she remembered that the night before she had definitely known where he was. Over her. Deep inside her. Matthew’s eyes narrowed as he observed her more closely. Could he see that something had changed between them? Probably not. He probably assumed, like everyone else, that Connor was bedding her regularly, had done so for months, ever since they’d gotten married.
“Spare me your useless comments. Do you know where he is or not?” She needed to see him without delay. Being reminded of the role Gruffydd expected her to play had sent her into near panic and his presence would help restore some calm into her.
“Who wants to know? Your ‘friend’?”
Oh God. Matthew was even more suspicious than she had feared. A thought crossed her mind. Did he speak, or at least understand Welsh? Was he only pretending to be ignorant of what had been said? She wouldn’t put it past him to have learned the language in his bid to protect his brother. He was relentless in his loyalty to Connor and he’d been here for months, time enough to gain some knowledge at least.
Fortunately, she had declined to help Gruffydd. She could not imagine how she would have faced Matthew had she just agreed to betray her husband. She was already uncomfortable when she had done nothing wrong.
Just then hooves clattered over the drawbridge, heralding Gruffydd’s men’s departure. Esyllt allowed herself to breathe more freely. She had nothing to blame herself for. The Welsh lord had indeed been plotting to harm Connor but she had refused in no uncertain terms to aid him. If Matthew really understood Welsh, then he would know it. If he did not, he would simply have to take her word for it. Soon enough, he would have to accept that she would never do anything to harm Connor.
When she spoke to her husband and warned him about the plot against him, she would demand he tell his brother to stop considering her as a traitor.
