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Chapter Six

I n the morning, the chance to finally vindicate Christopher presented itself. Even better, Sian didn’t even have to do anything.

While looking for his youngest daughter, Eirlys, during a game of hide and seek, Matthew caught Elsie kissing George, the farrier’s son, at the back of the stables.

During the interrogation that followed, the girl admitted that he, not Christopher, was the father of her unborn child.

The two of them had been seeing one another for a while and had thought to ensure themselves a comfortable future by naming a wealthy nobleman as the baby’s father, knowing the master of Sheridan Manor was too honorable to allow anyone to shirk his responsibility.

Lord Ashton would have been made to provide for the babe, thereby making them rich beyond their wildest dreams.

Sian was enraged at the couple’s perfidy.

They had taken advantage of her uncle’s good nature and gambled on Christopher’s reputation, hoping his past actions would make it impossible for anyone not to believe the worst of him, and unfortunately, they had been proved right.

No one had believed him when he’d claimed not to be the father.

No one had wanted to listen to her when she had taken his defense.

No one had even thought to question Elsie’s claim.

Well, now, they had no choice but to accept that Christopher was not quite the scoundrel they took him for and that he’d been telling the truth.

“I hope you are going to apologize to him?” she asked her uncle.

Matthew looked at his brother, as if to confirm that they were in agreement over what to do. Connor nodded, indicating that they were.

“I will send him a note explaining we have discovered we’ve been misled, but I will not apologize,” he ruled. “He might not have made the girl with child, but he did undoubtedly bed her, so I hardly think there is cause to congratulate him on his actions.”

“I said apologize to him, not congratulate him,” she retorted.

It was not quite the same thing. One was justified, the other ludicrous.

He was deliberately misunderstanding her.

“And he bedded Elsie with her full consent, perhaps even at her instigation. When two people, er … get intimate, the blame for it—if blame there is—is shared. And surely, him making sure she would not have to bear the consequences of their affair proves he’s not quite as debauched as you seem to think? ”

“Not quite as debauched as that doesn’t mean not debauched at all, far from it!” her father snapped, clearly not impressed by the argument. “And what do you know about people getting intimate, as you say? About what Ashton does or doesn’t do to ensure his conquests do not fall with child?”

Oh no. It seemed that in her vehemence, she had unwittingly led Connor to wonder if the man he took for a shameless rogue had not waylaid her, his own daughter. He had not, unfortunately, and she regretted it every moment of every day.

“Have you ever heard of anyone claiming to have birthed his bastard?” she threw back, hoping her faith in Christopher was justified. “If he is as debauched as you say and yet still has no child to show for it, surely, it means he is careful not to?—”

“Enough! We are not here to discuss his dubious morals but Elsie’s scheming. That she lied about the paternity of the child does not make him a saint. She is not the only maid here he’s bedded.”

“Indeed. He had better not show his face at Sheridan Manor ever again,” her uncle added, putting an end to the discussion.

Sian’s whole body sagged.

Although Christopher had been found innocent of the crime he’d been accused of, her family still considered him unsuitable company.

Wasn’t the murmur of the water supposed to be soothing? It was, and Sian had hoped an outing to the river would help distract her, but so far, it had failed to do that. She played with the hem of her dress, wondering what she could do.

“Are you all right?” Jane asked once Gwenllian and Seren had left them to run toward the water like two excitable puppies. “I’ve never seen you so despondent.”

An unladylike snort escaped Sian’s lips.

“How could I not be? The man I love is your enemy. Father despises him, and Uncle Matthew has forbidden him access to Sheridan Manor. Christopher has no idea what I feel or what my intentions are with regard to him, and I cannot see how this is going to change. Half the women in the county have bedded him, and the other half probably dream of doing so. Shall I continue?”

“No.” Her sister sighed. “And he’s not my enemy exactly.”

“But he was once. And you’re only trying to change your opinion about him for my sake.

It’s not going to work because it is the wrong way to go about it.

Remember when I tried to force myself to like mutton when you arrived at Castell Esgyrn because I knew it was your favorite?

I could never manage it. Years later, it still tastes foul to me. ”

Jane let out a tinkling laugh. Had she been anyone else than her beloved sister, Sian would have resented her for that innate elegance.

Only a moment ago, she had deplored her own lack of grace.

She didn’t giggle; she snorted. She blurted out her inner thoughts, she said words she shouldn’t even know, and she could barely keep her clothes clean.

To her dismay, at that moment, she understood what Christopher had meant.

Jane was always so poised, so graceful, so perfect, one could not help but feel inadequate in front of her.

The thought didn’t help her feel better.

“Come, that is hardly the same, and you know it,” Jane said, taking her hand. “Lord Ashton is nothing like a sheep to be cut into chops.”

“No, perhaps not. But you know what I mean,” Sian mumbled. The attempt at levity had failed.

“I do. And I promise I will try to understand what you see in him. I trust you. If you love him, he must be worthy of it.”

This answer earned Jane a squeeze to the hand. “Thank you.”

Sian let out a sigh. Even if she won Jane over, she would still have the rest of her family to contend with. She had no idea how she would convince her father and uncle, in particular, to see that Christopher was not quite the rogue they took him for.

“I think I’d better go and see what Seren and Gwenllian are doing,” Jane said, glancing over to where the two girls were splashing water at one another by the riverbank. The giggles from earlier had become veritable shrieks, heralding a possible mishap.

Sian knew her sister was only trying to give her a moment’s privacy, but it was probably a good idea to go and prevent a catastrophe.

They had been able to sneak a dripping-wet Seren into Castell Esgyrn and avoid a scolding once last year; she could not imagine how they would be so lucky a second time.

Left alone, Sian took another swig of the flask of ale Avice had placed in the basket of food she’d prepared for the outing and watched the wind play in the tree branches overhead.

She had been so full of hope only days ago, thinking she was making good progress with Christopher, but she was no longer certain.

It was not just that her family was hostile toward him even if that was a problem.

It was also that he still had no idea of her feelings for him.

He probably saw her as a friend. It was no small achievement, considering that not so long before, he could not remember who she was, but she was still a long way from expecting a proposal.

“That is quite a feast for one person. Mind if I join you?”

Sian let out a little squeak when the voice sliced through her thoughts. Where had Christopher come from? And how had she not heard his approach? You would not credit such a large man with the ability to move with the stealthiness of a cat.

He sat next to her before she could tell him he could join her and reached for a slice of hare pie as if he had every right to it. Someone else might have bristled at his arrogance, but she found it endearing because it proved he was at ease with her, as he should have been.

“This is most propitious,” he said once he’d swallowed a few mouthfuls of pie. “Here I was, famished and wondering how long it would take me to walk home, and here you are with more food than you can possibly consume in two days, like a wood nymph waiting to see to my needs.”

To see to my needs.

He had no idea that was exactly what she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

“There’s a simple explanation for all the food,” Sian said quietly, not dwelling on the thought. “I am not here on my own. My sisters are over there by the river.”

Or rather, they had been. Right now, they were out of sight, having no doubt found the perfect spot to dip their toes in the water.

Sian’s heartbeat increased another notch at the realization.

She was alone with Christopher, and they were side by side on the blanket, half-lying down already.

It was a situation rife with possibilities, each more licentious than the last.

“Why did you think you would have to walk home?” she asked before her mind could start imagining some of those possibilities. Warrior, she had noticed, was tethered at the edge of the clearing. Why could he not ride him? “Is your stallion injured?”

“No,” he said, taking another bite of pie. “But I very well could have been. The billets on my saddle broke while I was galloping through the field yonder. Thankfully, I fell on soft ground and managed to roll out of the way of Warrior’s hooves, but …”

Yes.

But.