Page 50 of A Second Chance for Carys
For all his determination and muscular physique, Matthew’s efforts at trying to push past James were in vain. The man was immovable. Carys shivered. She had never before noticed how strong he was and the realization made her quiver.
“No! If you go you’ll rip him to shreds. I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve it, but then you’ll get executed for killing the king’s nephew,” he said in growl. “What of your wife then? Your child? You cannot die, Branwen needs her husband and the babe needs his father. SoI’ll go. And I’ll stop him, I swear.” Before he went he threw a glance at her, one that burned a path all the way to her soul. “For the love of God, Carys, make him see that I’m right.”
With those words, he flew toward the great hall.
Carys’ heart lurched to a stop. Hewasright, damn him. If Matthew entered that room, he would prevent his wife’s rape. That was not in doubt. Anyone trying to hurt Branwen wouldn’t stand a chance against a man as strong and irate as he was. The earl would be stopped. But the problem was, Matthew would not leave it at that. He would not be able to stop himself from making the earl pay for all the other men who had assaulted Branwen over the years. By the time he had finished with him, there would be nothing left of the King of England’s precious nephew.
And tomorrow, when Edward arrived, there would be retribution. It didn’t bear thinking about. Her daughter would never survive the loss of her husband.
Carys lifted pleading eyes to Matthew, knowing that if he decided he could not stand idle while his wife was in danger, she would not have the strength to restrain him physically. She needed to appeal to his reason.
“Just wait a moment before going in. James will stop the earl. He promised he would and I trust him. He’s right, it’s the best solution.”
“This is all my fault. I should never have left!” The pain, the powerlessness etched on his face was enough to tear at Carys’ heart. His beloved wife was being assaulted and he could not help her, in the same way she could not help her daughter. It was an awful sensation and she could only sympathize with him. “You know what she suffered…You know why I cannot bear to?—”
“I do. I’m her mother.” Indeed she knew about her daughter’s traumatic past. She had hoped that now that Branwen was happily married, they would be able to put it all behind them. Apparently, it was not that easy. “But I also know she would beg me to stop you from getting into that room. You need to letJames do this, however hard it is, because she would die without you.”
“Of course.” Despite the agreement, he sounded less than convinced.
It was only then that the reality of the situation hit Carys.
When the English king arrived,Jameswould be the one facing royal retribution.
Sitting in the damp, stinky cell, James was cradling his head in his hands.
This had been a disaster. He had feared all along it would end badly for him, but there had been no other choice. Someone had to stop the earl from raping Branwen, and that someone could not be Matthew. No matter what, James would not allow a man who was about to become a father to put himself in danger.
There was, of course, another reason for his intervention.
Guilt.
He had promised Matthew he would safeguard his wife before he went to Wales, and he had failed. The least he could do now was make sure no one but him suffered the consequences of his inability to protect the woman Matthew loved and their child.
When James had burst into the hall, he’d found the earl bent over a deathly pale Branwen. Her bodice had been ripped open and her hands, wrapped around her swollen stomach in a protective gesture, were shaking. The vile man was fumbling at his hose, his intent all too clear.
“You bastard!” James said between his teeth, before rushing over to her. Thankfully, he’d arrived in time, though not early enough to spare Branwen a fright.
She let out a gasp when she saw him. “James.Diolch.”
As soon as the words had left her mouth, she fainted. It was as if after having done her best to hold on to her sanity while she was alone, she was finally allowing the full horror of what was happening to overwhelm her. James could barely imagine what Matthew would have done if he had been the one walking in on the appalling scene. If he, who was not in love with Branwen, had felt his blood shoot straight to his head, her husband would have gone mad.
He fell on the younger man like a rabid dog on its victim. The earl deserved to be torn to shreds for what he’d wanted to do. How dare he assault a woman, and a woman who was married, heavy with child and nearing her term! Had his men not chosen this moment to come get him, he might well be dead right now.
As it was, the king’s nephew had been saved in extremis. Alone against six men, James had had no choice but to surrender.
Once he’d regained the ability to talk, the earl had ordered his attacker be taken to the dungeon, for the king to deal with on the morrow. Matthew, who had rushed into the hall along with the royal guards and run straight to Branwen, had been unable to do anything to prevent his arrest. Too bruised to stand on his own two feet after the beating he’d received, James had been carried to the dank cell where he’d spent the remainder of the day and the whole night pondering what his punishment would be.
Death, obviously.
One did not try to throttle a member of the royal family and live to tell the tale. One was made an example. The only thing he didn’t know washowhe would die. In all probability, it would be both gruesome to watch and excruciating to endure.
Heaven help him, but he didn’t know how he was going to bear it.
The trap door above him creaked open, the sound ominous in the darkness.
His whole body tensed up in dread. Was it dawn yet? Or had the earl and his men decided to come and amuse themselves with him before his execution? They had ruled that the king would be the one to decide his fate but no one had specified that the prisoner should be in a state to hear the judgment pronounced. He could well end up being brought in front of Edward still breathing, but wishing to be dead already.
The yellow light of a torch filled the dark hole above him, then the ladder was lowered down. James screwed his eyes shut, in a vain attempt at keeping calm. The mysterious visitors were actually coming down, which meant they were not going to be satisfied with simply shouting taunts from above. Shackled as he was, weakened by the earlier beating, he would be unable to defend himself. Well, at least he would not give them the pleasure of knowing that he dreaded what was in store for him.
