Page 308 of Historical Hotties
With that, she bolted for the nearest lancet window, scrambling into it. The walls were thick, so every window had a wide ledge or even a stone seat. In this case it was a wide ledge, and before Rotri could stop her, she was clinging to the frame of a window that was high above the side of the motte. The plunge below, by the time she hit the ground, would be thirty feet or more. If the fall alone didn’t break her neck, then the roll down the steep motte would surely finish her off.
Rotri could see that quite plainly.
“Nay!” he shouted. “Wait! Callie,wait!”
But Caledonia was pushing herself out of the window, barely holding on to the stone frame. “You will not have anything,” she repeated, the tears returning. “The earldom of Stafford and Tamworth belongs to a de Reyne. It no longer belongs to the House of de Wylde. Therefore, if I die, Tamworth will revert to the Crown and you will be unable to get your filthy hands on it. Stafford belongs to my eldest daughter, but that isn’t something you care about, thank God. You only want Tamworth, and I am going to put it out of your reach for good.”
Rotri knew better than to try to grab her. All she had to do was loosen her grip and she would fall from the window. She would do that rather than let him get a grip on her, he was certain.
The tables were turning.
Now, he was the one panicking.
“Please do not jump,” he pleaded. “Let us speak calmly. If you do not want to marry Cristano, then… then you do not have to. Please, Callie. Let us be reasonable about this.”
The tears were coursing down Caledonia’s face. “There is nothing to discuss,” she said. “My husband is dead. You have told me this. Is it true?”
Reluctantly, Rotri nodded. “I ordered him killed.”
She winced when she heard the words, feeling the shock and pain all over again. “Then you have murdered a good man,” she murmured. “It is true that the king forced us to marry. He did not want to do it, nor did I, and I went through great lengths to prevent it. But once I came to know him a little, I realized that he was a fine man. He was kind and considerate. He was attentive. He was everything I had been missing in my life, making me feel more loved and honored in just the short time we were married than I’ve ever felt in my entire life. I cannot face the prospect of life without him. I do not want to try.”
“Callie,please—”
“Nay, Uncle,” she said, cutting him off. “When you ordered him killed, then you murdered me, too. I will not let you taint his memory with your greed and deceit. Why men like you continue to live and men like Thor are allowed to die is something I must ask God when I see him, for I do not understand any of it. I do not understand why He allows such terrible things to happen. He sent me an angel only to take him away? He will have to explain that to me.”
Rotri had his hands up in a supplicating gesture. “If you jump from the window and kill yourself, you will not be allowed to see God,” he said, trying to use doctrine to get her out of the window. “You will not even be allowed to see Thor. You will suffer in the sulfur lakes for eternity. Think about what you are doing and understand the consequences.”
That brought Caledonia pause. She, too, knew that church doctrine preached against suicide. But this wasn’t suicide, was it? It was vengeance for Thor’s death, punishment for Rotri’s greed. Surely God would understand that.
But then there were her children.
She would be leaving Jane, Janet, and Joan without a mother. Again. And this time, there was no Madam Madonna to look after them, as poorly as the woman did it. She would be leaving her daughters to fend for themselves in a world that would just as soon eat them up like wolves upon lambs. They would end up in a foundling home, treated like rubbish for the rest of their lives.
Déchet, just like their mother.
As Caledonia crouched in the window, debating whether to live or die, she didn’t see her chamber door open. She didn’t see Jane stand in the doorway, observing her mother in the window ledge as a strange man tried to convince her to come away. When Rotri had bolted the door at the top of the stairs to preventanyone from helping Caledonia, he had completely neglected the bedchamber with the young girls inside.
Eight-year-old Jane had heard everything.
Something had awoken her. It wasn’t the screaming. It had been more of a whisper in her ear, telling her to rise.Rise, child,the voice had said. Perhaps it had been a dream, but it had been enough to get her up and hear almost all of the conversation in the next chamber.
Her mother was in trouble.
For a young lass who had been conditioned by a bitter old woman into believing that she had to constantly spread the word of God in order to get to heaven and that the woman who gave birth to her was the embodiment of the devil, the past two weeks had shown her something quite different.
Tenderness…
Understanding…
Love.
Jane had seen all of these things, things she had resisted, but she was resisting no more. Thor had spoken to her about the situation, and so had Darius. They insisted that Madam Madonna had lied about her mother, and the more time passed, the more Jane was coming to understand that. Earlier that day, she’d had the first lesson with her mother as Darius had sat next to her, helping her with her letters. It had been a glimpse into a world where people cared for her and nurtured her. For a child who had only known fear and neglect, it had been a pivotal moment.
But tonight, something bad was happening. Jane had heard the man in her mother’s room speak of Thor being dead, which upset her. He had been so very kind, explaining things in a way she could understand even if she didn’t believe it. One of the things he had told her, repeatedly, was how much her mother loved her. A woman that Jane had never given a chance untilthat afternoon. She didn’t regret it. In fact, she wanted to do it again, but there would be no opportunity if her mother jumped from the window.
That frightened Jane.
She had to help.
