Page 57 of Never Love a Lord
On her right, Cecily huffed a mirthless laugh. “I scarcely can believe it,” she said, and then hurried to reassure Sybilla by bringing her other hand to her sister’s forearm. “But I do believe you, of course, Sybilla. It’s only, well . . . but I suppose that does explain a lot about Alys’s personality, though, doesn’t it? Forgive me, Piers.”
“No offense taken, Cee,” Piers assured her mildly.
“Me?” Alys screeched. “Me? At least I waited until I was married,SaintCecily!”
Cecily glared at her younger sister for a moment but then looked to Sybilla, her brown eyes heavy with sympathy. “But one would never know it from Sybilla, would they? Completely noble, to her core.”
Sybilla stared at Cecily, willing herself not to weep yet. She opened her mouth, but as usual, Alys began speaking once more.
“Yes. And it’s not as if that gives the king complete grounds to seize Fallstowe, any matter. Nobles marrying commoners might be unusual, but it’s not completely unheard of. And while Mother had no noble blood to speak of, she is no longer the head of Fallstowe—you are, and you are absolutely Papa’s girl. Like him in so many ways.” Sybilla felt the tightening in her chest increase as Alys regarded her with such sweetness. “You always were his favorite.”
Sybilla could not look at either of them, so she dropped her gaze to the tabletop, the tears pushing heavily on her eyes causing the wooden surface to blur and rise toward her.
She felt Cecily’s hand tighten on her arm. “Sybilla? What is it?”
“I—” She tried to begin, but the word came out as a croak, and so she was forced to stop, swallow. She closed her eyes and a tear slipped from beneath her lashes, feeling white-hot against her cheek.
“I’m not Papa’s girl, though,” she said hoarsely, her eyes still closed. “Morys Foxe was not my father.”
Oliver’s voice was hushed with shock. “What?”
“Oh, Lord have mercy,” Cecily whispered.
“Sybilla!” Alys demanded, and shook Sybilla’s hand, prompting Sybilla to look at the stunned woman. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that Mother was pregnant when she arrived in England,” Sybilla said. “My father was a common soldier in Simon de Montfort’s army. So you see”—she pulled her hands away gently to tend to her wet face—“I am actually completely common. And once Edward finds out . . .” She shrugged again.
“That’s why we always thought she favored you,” Alys said wonderingly. “She was readying you for this day.”
Sybilla nodded. “And it’s why she bade me see the pair of you married well. She knew that if the truth was discovered, there would be little recourse for me, but you and Cecily would be safe.”
“That . . . that”—Cecily seemed to struggle to find words for a moment—“that bitch!”
Sybilla turned to look at her usually reverent sister, unusually shocked at the foul accusation toward a woman Cecily had loved very much.
“She may as well have thrown you to the lions!” Cecily accused her, her face a mask of delicate fury unlike anything Sybilla had ever seen from her.
“No,” Alys argued meekly, shaking her head. “No, Mother loved Sybilla best—she would never put her in such jeopardy.”
“Then why didn’t she see that Sybilla wasfirstto marry?” Cecily demanded, and then shot to her feet, as if her anger would no longer allow her to sit. “I will stop praying for that woman’s soul, for surely she resides in hell this day.”
“Cecily,” Oliver said softly, and rose to stand at his wife’s side, turning her into his chest, where she clung and began to weep loudly.
Alys still seemed quite subdued with shock. “But . . . but surely Edward would not punish you for something which you have no control over, not when you’ve done so well by him at Fallstowe.”
Cecily pulled away from Oliver, her anger still pulsing through her tears. “Perhaps not, but he’s pushing the old bone that Mother somehow aided Simon de Montfort at Lewes, isn’t he?”
Sybilla nodded. “Yes,” she said quietly.
“But that’s ridiculous,” Alys insisted. “Papa was killed at Lewes! Mother may have been capable of and done things that none of us thought her able, but she loved Papa. She did not betray the king at Lewes.” Alys turned to Sybilla. “Did she, Sybilla?”
“No,” Sybilla said, even more quietly than before. “No, she did not.”
Piers spoke then. “You’re completely sure of that? You have proof?”
Sybilla nodded, cleared her throat. “I am completely sure.”
“See!” Alys said, triumph in her voice. “I knew it!”
