Page 6 of A Savior for Branwen (The Welsh Rebels #2)

Chapter Five

“ A nother daughter.” Matthew smiled at the new mother holding her child in her arms. “Didn’t I tell you? My brother can only father girls.”

The said brother would have glared at him for this sally if Esyllt had not placed a soothing hand on his arm and smiled back. “Another girl is just perfect. She’s perfect.”

“She is. All that remains to be seen is if I was right about the color of her eyes.” He had once predicted that the babe would have green eyes, just like her two parents. He was more convinced than ever that it would be the case, but they would have to wait a few months to be sure. “I think the same shade as yours, my lady, would be the most fetching. Connor’s eyes could all too easily be mistaken for a snake’s. Useful to instill fear into your opponents if you’re a knight, but less becoming in a woman, don’t you think?”

“Will you cease your blabbering and give my wife and me a moment’s privacy so we can get acquainted with our new daughter?” Connor growled. The gruffness would take a moment to fade away. He had barely recovered from the shock of being told Esyllt had already been delivered of the child when they’d reached the cottage. Then the relief of seeing that both his girls were doing well had almost floored him.

“Of course. Take all the time you need.”

After one last glance at his new niece, Matthew left the cottage.

Outside, he found Branwen in a most unexpected position. Sitting on the bench next to the vegetable patch, she was hugging herself. He had expected her to be delighted with her friend’s happy deliverance but she looked about to cry. Again. The sight unsettled him. He would never have thought a bold vixen like her would exhibit such vulnerability, but she seemed oddly prone to crying and fainting, like a woman constantly on edge. What was making her so overwrought?

When she saw him, she stiffened, as if caught doing something forbidden. “You’re here,” she said in a flat tone.

He arched a brow. Of course he was. He’d been there only a moment ago. “Where else would I be?”

“England, where you really want to be?” she suggested with no small amount of bitterness.

Mm. He didn’t quite know what to answer to that. Did he really want to be in England? A few months ago, he would have said yes. Now he was not so sure.

“You’ll have to wait a moment to get your home back, I’m afraid,” he informed her, not knowing what to say to this new Branwen. The fearless minx he could handle, but he was at a loss in front of the vulnerable woman. “Connor will want to assure himself all is well before he allows his wife to go anywhere, but I’m sure they would let you stay with her if you wished.”

She stood up, her face hardening. All traces of vulnerability had disappeared, replaced by a cold indifference he guessed she used as a shield. “I’d rather not stay while they’re here. Esyllt will understand. She knows I don’t like to be around babies. But it matters not. I can always find another place to sleep tonight.”

At that, Matthew remembered what had transpired earlier that day. In the drama that had followed, he’d quite forgotten it. But of course, Branwen had been exposed for the wanton she was by the Englishman leaving her cottage still panting from exertion.

He scoffed. She’d said she could find another place for the night, and he could well believe it. She could probably take her pick of men who would offer her shelter, men who would be amply compensated for their generosity when she used her talented mouth on them as a reward. The notion had his blood boiling.

“No, I do not doubt you can find a bed to lie in, even if I’m not sure there will be much sleeping in it. But do you know?” he jeered, “for someone who doesn’t like children, you place yourself at serious risk of carrying your own one day, one whose father’s identity you won’t even know.”

Her lips trembled, betraying the anger simmering under the detached surface, but Matthew knew the accusation was not untoward. Why, in nine months from now she could well give birth to his …

He stopped the thought before it could fully form. Even if she had fallen with child from their encounter in the solar, as he’d said, neither he nor she would know for sure he was the father, since less than two days later she’d bedded one of the Englishmen from town. And it was probably not all. Who knew how many men she had taken to her bed since she’d last bled? Any of them could be the father if she gave birth to a babe at the end of the year. And it was for the best he would never know whether their lovemaking had borne fruit, Matthew reminded himself. He didn’t want a bastard child anyway.

“I see you are still intent on insulting me?” Branwen said through gritted teeth.

“I’m not insulting you. I’m stating facts.” He was not impressed by her outrage. She might not know what Owen and Thomas had revealed about her, but she could not deny having been found moments after having bedded a man. “Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten that when I came to visit earlier, I walked into another man exiting your cottage after?—”

“What we did is none of your concern.”

“It is if he is going to assume I will fuck you while his seed is still inside you,” Matthew snapped back. “Tell me, just so I know how big of a fool I am, did he make you come? Or did you send him on his way before he could, like you did with me?”

Matthew berated himself for insisting thus. Why did he need to know? It was infuriating, and only went to show that he was a fool, but he could not let it go. Why had she denied him the chance to give her the pleasure she was clearly after?

Arglwydd Mawr !

Branwen bristled. How could Matthew be so scathing? Where was the man who’d spoken so tenderly to Esyllt only moments ago and looked at her babe with awe in his eyes? The sight had torn at her heart, because it proved beyond question that he could be kind and loving.

Only he chose not to be with her, because he thought she didn’t deserve it.

With her, he was his arrogant, unbearable self.

“I have no wish to discuss this with you.” Not now, not after having seen her friend give birth, and then present the healthy babe to her beloved, awe-struck husband, not while her skin was still burning from the touch of another man, not when she was so confused about her feelings toward Matthew, not ever.

“But I might wish to discuss it with you,” he said, straightening up to his full, impressive height. “That’s why I came to see you today, to have an explanation. Yesterday I heard two men at the castle talking about you and how you serviced them both at the same time.”

Something died within her. She knew very well to whom he was referring, even if she didn’t know the men’s names. Thankfully, so far, the two guards at Castell Esgyrn had been the only ones demanding to share her in that way. The idea of Matthew hearing about this, thinking that she made a habit of allowing two men to possess her together made her sick. Would there be no end to her humiliation?

“Well, what of it? You thought you were special, is that what it is?” she cried out, deciding the only way she could bear this was to make him feel as bad as she felt. “But you are not the only man I’ve had, far from it. I never lied to you, I told you I was no virgin, didn’t I? Yet you didn’t let it deter you. So don’t come complaining now that I have a past.”

From the way he recoiled, she could tell she had hit a nerve. It spurred her on. Let him get what he deserved for making her feel so wretched. Why should she try to spare him when he was being so cruel toward her?

“Admit it, this is not about me but about you and your pride,” she carried on. “You don’t like to hear that you didn’t give me pleasure because it makes you feel like an inferior lover. You don’t want to hear that I bed other men because it makes it obvious that you are just one of many when you thought you were unique. But tell me, why am I supposed to care about your feelings? You are nothing to me, just another Englishman thinking he can have it all.”

That was her bitterness talking, because in truth she had never thought that of him.

“When have I ever given you the impression I was like that?” he growled, taking her by the elbow. She should have tried to free herself, but oddly, the gesture did not scare her. Enough men had acted aggressively toward her over the years for her to know the difference. Matthew was not about to hurt her, he simply wanted to understand what had happened. “ I was not the one who initiated our first kiss. I did not push you down into the chair to ride you that day in the solar. It seems to me that if one of us takes what they want, it is you .”

He was right. She had acted selfishly, taking what she wanted regardless of his opinion. Not that he had put up much of a fight. Still, she felt in the wrong, because she been the one initiating it—both times.

Shame made her lash out.

“Why are you here? Have you come to insult me or fuck me? I’d like to know, so I can prepare myself.”

The crude word exploded between them. For a moment she feared he would tumble her onto the ground, and plunge deep inside her, just to make her regret the taunt. Had she been too presumptuous in thinking he posed no threat to her? He was a man, and earlier today he had talked about using her in the crudest way.

“I came here to have answers,” Matthew said, releasing Branwen’s elbow as fast as if it had burned him.

Have you come here to fuck me?

Hearing the shocking word in her mouth had made him want to do just that. How could that be? He was mad at her, he should not be thinking of her in that way, not when she had explained he was just one of many, not special in any way, and unable to give her pleasure. He should be humiliated by her tirade, not aroused!

This was all infuriating.

“You want answers? You want explanations?” Branwen snarled. “About what? My inability to come? About the numbers of men I’ve been forced to service? You want to know why I cannot feel pleasure in a man’s arms, is that what it is?”

She sounded like she had never sounded before, and once again, she looked about to cry.

Matthew stilled as white-hot anger was replaced by icy dread. This conversation was taking a turn he had not expected.

“What do you mean?” he asked with deadly calm. Had she just said “men she had been forced to service?” That was what he wanted to know, but when she answered, she focused on the last part of her confession.

“I can’t feel pleasure in a man’s arms because I will not let it happen, that’s why! I cannot. If I do, he will be proven right.”

“Who will be proven right?” The more she talked, the less he understood what she was saying, and the more worried he became.

“He thinks … he said … ‘Listen to you moaning. You like what I’m doing to you, don’t you?’ But I didn’t! I didn’t, do you hear? I swear it, I didn’t like it! I never do.”

Dear God, whom was she taking about? The Englishman from earlier? Had he praised her responsiveness as a lover while he was taking her? But why would it be a problem for her to moan under his caresses? Surely that was normal, even desirable? Flattering? Something was very wrong and he needed to get to the bottom of it.

“Branwen, answer me. What on earth are you talking about?”

He grabbed her by the shoulders, barely resisting the urge to shake her. She seemed not to notice he was here, exactly like that time by the barbican when George and Elena had been fighting. There was a dazed expression on her face, as if she didn’t know where she was. She wavered on her feet, her body losing all of its tension. In a moment she might …

Matthew braced himself, knowing what was coming. A heartbeat later, Branwen fell into his arms, unconscious.

“Thank God. Finally, you’re awake.” Esyllt’s voice, quivering with relief.

“Where am I?” Her own, slightly slurred.

“In your cottage.”

Branwen blinked and looked around, trying to make sense of what had happened. The last thing she remembered was being outside by the vegetable patch with Matthew. She was now inside the cottage, lying on a blanket next to the pallet where Esyllt sat with her daughter in her arms. No doubt Matthew had been the one carrying her there, just like he had the day she had jumped on George. It seemed that for the second time in as many weeks she had fainted in his arms. What would he be thinking?

Did it matter? He already thought her the most shameless whore. After that, it would make little difference if he thought her a pathetic, weak female.

“You’re all right, Branwen, I’m here. You’re safe,” Esyllt told her before lifting her head to the men standing over them, concern etched on their faces. “Would you two please give us a moment?”

Connor glanced at his wife, then at his brother, who was scowling. He nodded and dragged him outside by the elbow. It was obvious Matthew didn’t want to go and was hoping she would ask him to stay, but Branwen kept her gaze on her friend, because she did want him to go. She did not want to see him now.

And preferably never again.

He would only insult her, and cause her to feel worse than anyone had made her feel, maybe faint again. She could not allow it. Whatever he thought, she did not deserve to be treated thus.

“What happened this time?” Esyllt asked when the door had closed. “Did you see the man who attacked you as a child, while you were out there with Matthew? Is that why you fainted?”

Branwen shook her head. She could not tell her friend what had transpired between her and her brother-in-law. Esyllt knew about the kiss, but not what had happened in the solar, or the awful arguments. It was better that way. After months of enmity the two of them had finally reached an agreement, Branwen could not now give her friend reason to think ill of her husband’s brother.

“No. I haven’t seen the man for years, since …”

Not since the assault in the clearing, she meant. At first she had feared he might try to find out where she lived, come to her again, but he had not once approached the village. She would have been relieved had she not concluded it was because he had found other young girls to assault. She had not been special to him, he’d not had any feelings toward her, he’d only wanted to slake his passing lust. He didn’t need her for that, with so many other virgins around. The idea that he must have ruined dozens of lives was sickening.

Esyllt didn’t comment, but she was still waiting for an explanation.

“I haven’t had anything to eat all day, that may be why I fainted,” Branwen said, hoping this would be enough to placate her.

It wasn’t, not if the look in her eyes was any indication, but mercifully, she pretended to believe the explanation.

“I will ask Connor to get some food for us. I could do with eating something myself. While we eat, we will discuss what arrangements can be made for the night. I’m sorry to say that Connor has already told me he would not allow me to go anywhere for the next two days at the very least. And naturally, he will stay by my side.” Esyllt gave a sigh. “So I’m afraid your cottage will?—”

“It’s not an issue. Don’t worry, I had already anticipated I would need to leave for a few days,” Branwen soothed.

Or rather, Matthew had already warned her she would have to find another bed to lie in, and assumed she would entertain a lover in it.

She would have liked to stay, if only to make him regret his untoward accusations but she could not. It would be torture to have to witness the new parents’ delight, to see in their eyes the love they had for their newly born babe and each other.

Branwen gave the sleeping little girl a stroke on the cheek as the familiar pangs of regret tore through her gut. What she wouldn’t give to hold her own child one day. But it was an impossible dream. Women like her didn’t deserve to bear children who would only be mocked and reviled. It would not be fair on them. So she simply had to forget her own desire and needs.

“But this is your home,” Esyllt protested. “Where will you go?”

“To my mother’s. Don’t worry about it. You and little Gwenllian take all the time you need. I’ll be fine.”

Yes. At least that was the hope.