Page 80 of The Forsaken (Echoes from the Past #4)

SIXTY-NINE

Kate wasn’t overly worried when she didn’t see Guy for the remainder of the day, but when he hadn’t put in an appearance by the following evening, she grew concerned.

Had he gone for good, hurt and rejected by her refusal to entertain the idea of an annulment?

She went into his room under the pretense of collecting linen in need of washing, but couldn’t tell if he had taken anything with him.

His sword was gone, but he’d been wearing it when she saw him last.

When Kate brought the dirty linen to the kitchen, Joan was shelling peas, her movements efficient and practiced. Walter sat at the table, enjoying a slice of buttered bread and a cup of ale. He made to rise when Kate walked in, but she motioned for him to remain seated.

“Good day, mistress,” Water said as soon as he swallowed the bite he’d been chewing.

“Walter, have you see Master Guy?” Kate tried to sound nonchalant, but her heart raced beneath her calm exterior.

“Not since the day before last,” Walter replied. “He went off somewhere.”

“I see.”

“Were ye needing him for something?” Joan’s hands stilled as she watched Kate with that knowing smirk.

“No. I just wondered, that’s all.”

“He’ll come back when he’s good and ready. That’s Guy’s way,” Joan replied, oozing disapproval as her hands returned to her task.

“I’m sure he will. ”

Kate left the basket of linen and went back to her room. She just wanted to be alone, especially since the nausea was making itself known again and gnawing at her guts as it intensified. She was curled up in the window seat when there was a soft knock on the door.

“Come,” Kate called, hoping it wasn’t Joan. Some days the woman really grated on her.

It was Eleanor. She looked pale and sad, her golden hair hidden beneath a dun-colored veil that matched her plain, serviceable gown. “How do you fare, Kate?” she asked.

“I’m well. Thank you.”

“Won’t you join me in the Lady Chamber? It’s rather quiet without you.

” Eleanor stood awkwardly in the doorway.

She’d never actively sought out Kate’s company, taking for granted that Kate would be there whenever she felt like talking to her.

“I’ve started a new piece of embroidery.

With Adam gone, there’s much less mending to do,” she added wistfully.

Kate had no desire to make small talk with Eleanor, but she felt sorry for the woman. Losing Adam was a big adjustment for her, even if she’d always known the separation would come. “I’m sure Adam is well,” Kate offered as she hauled herself to her feet.

“I worry about him so. He’s so young and vulnerable. What if he gets hurt or falls ill?”

“Eleanor, the earl is a kind man. He looks after his people. Adam will thrive under his tutelage. You’ll see.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, but you will,” Eleanor replied spitefully. “Just wait until your child is torn from you, and it will be, be it a boy or a girl. And that’s if both of you even survive the birth.”

Kate blanched at Eleanor’s words. Was Eleanor hoping she’d miscarry, or die in childbed?

Did she dislike her that much, or was there some other reason for her venom?

She knew Eleanor was unhappy. A widow was about as useful to society as a three-legged horse, unless she could be married off to forge an alliance with another family or expand the family’s holdings, but since Hugh never sought another marriage for Eleanor, she was caught in an unenviable position.

Eleanor was still attractive enough to tempt a man, and fertile enough to bear children, but without the means of getting on with her life, she was left to fade away and turn to dust as time wove its spell and stripped her of her beauty and vitality.

Whatever Eleanor’s reasons, Kate couldn’t bring herself to ignore the barb.

“You know, Eleanor, I feel unwell after all. I think I’ll remain here for a spell, if you don’t mind. Please shut the door on your way out.”

Kate turned away, but not before she saw the flare of resentment in the other woman’s eyes.

Kate remained in her chamber for the rest of the afternoon.

At any other time, she would have gotten lonely and left her room to seek the companionship of other women, but at the moment, she didn’t mind the solitude.

She opened the window and allowed the gentle breeze to caress her face as she looked out over the verdant hills and mist-shrouded valleys.

The Tweed flowed peacefully past, the river rippling and sparkling playfully as it wound into the distance.

Kate wished she could get into a boat with Guy and float away to a place where no one knew them and they could choose their own destiny and live out their days in blissful anonymity.

A knock on the door startled Kate out of her reverie. Perhaps Eleanor had returned, either to demand that Kate join her or to apologize for her thoughtless comment. Or maybe it was Joan, coming to check on Kate and offer unsolicited advice, as she did more and more now that Kate was with child.

Instead, Guy came in and closed the door softly behind him before joining her at the window. “I’ve come back. ”

“I thought I’d driven you away,” Kate replied, smiling foolishly. The sight of Guy restored her spirits and her heart soared with certainty that he still loved her.

“There was a bit of intelligence I needed to follow up on,” Guy explained.

“What sort of intelligence? Is it to do with Warwick?”

“No, this venture was of a purely personal nature. At the Christmas feast, Amelia Ambrose’s father made several comments about lecherous priests,” he said. “Do you recall?”

Kate shrugged. “I didn’t pay much attention to what he said. He’s a bit of a zealot, isn’t he? He sees sin everywhere.”

“He does, but it got me thinking. So I went to Newcastle to do some digging.”

“Guy, I don’t follow.”

“I spent several days visiting taverns, especially those close to the Cathedral Church of St. Nicholas, which happens to be the seat of the Bishop of Newcastle.”

“What were you hoping to accomplish?”

“Bishop Bridewell is a well-respected member of the diocese. He’s always taken a hard line on sin, particularly carnal sin, preaching eternal damnation, and threatening his parishioners with the fires of hell should they commit the slightest transgression.

He doesn’t believe in repentance or forgiveness, only punishment and the everlasting wrath of a vengeful God. ”

“Sounds like the type of clergyman we should avoid at all cost, given our history.” Kate tried to make a joke, but her voice sounded small and frightened. She was utterly baffled by Guy’s strange errand.

“I was hoping to learn something of the bishop, and I did. It would appear that the very pious Bishop Bridewell, a man of seventy who’s devoted his life to the Church, regularly visits a certain woman at her lodgings, and arrives there sans his clerical robes.”

“Who is she?” Kate asked, intrigued.

“She’s his mistress, and has been for the past decade, during which time she bore the bishop three children. I’ve no doubt there were others before her. He’s sired half the bastards in Newcastle.”

“What’s this to do with us?”

Guy shook his head and smiled at Kate’s naiveté. “Kate, if Hugh agrees to an annulment, it’ll be that much easier to obtain if we have a bishop who’s willing to see it through. And what would make a geriatric bishop cooperate short of a threat to his livelihood and reputation?”

Kate stared at him. This wasn’t the Guy she knew.

This man was ruthless and calculating, ready to exploit someone’s weakness for his own gain.

This was also a man who loved her and was willing to go to any lengths to free her from her marriage to Hugh.

What Guy had done was an act of devotion, and a declaration of love for her and their child.

He would never blackmail someone for money or power, only for love.

“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Deadly. I won’t leave you ever again, Kate.”

Her eyes flew to the door as it opened to reveal Joan holding a basket of clean linen on her hip.

“Guy, I thought I saw ye sneaking about. Come to visit yer devoted sister-in-law, have ye?” Joan gave them both an acid stare before stowing the clean garments in the chest at the foot of the bed and departing.

“Do you think she overheard?” Kate said as the door closed behind Joan .

“Her hearing’s not what it used to be. She’s getting on in years,” Guy observed. He dismissed Joan and returned to the earlier topic. “Kate, I need to know that you agree before I confront Hugh. No sense poking a hornet’s nest and getting stung if you won’t agree to go through with it.”

Kate lowered her eyes, unable to bear the intensity of Guy’s gaze.

Annulling her marriage, which was legal and valid, went against everything she believed in, but it might be her only chance at happiness.

She doubted Hugh would agree, but if he did, she and Guy could marry and be a family.

They could live in love and understanding and raise their children together.

They could be happy. Even thinking along those lines made Kate cringe with guilt.

What right did she have to ask for happiness?

And what would be the price of that happiness?

Hugh would be humiliated and ridiculed, and Kate would have to live with her deceit for the rest of her days.

The world might believe that the marriage hadn’t been valid, but she’d know the truth.

Was she ready to risk her soul for a future that might never be?

Kate’s hand went to her belly. Deep inside, a little person slumbered, waiting to be born, oblivious to all the strife its very existence had caused.

Guy would never have conceived of blackmailing a bishop of the Church if it weren’t for Kate’s pregnancy.

Or perhaps he would. He wasn’t a man to lurk in the shadows and pick crumbs from his brother’s table.

Guy was willing to fight for what he wanted, and he was daring her to be brave and honest and do the same.

“All right. I agree,” Kate whispered, shocked by her own boldness. “When will you speak to Hugh?”

“Tonight.”

“No, please. Not yet. I need a little time to come to terms with what we’re about to do. Wait until after the Feast of Ascension.”

Guy looked disappointed but nodded in agreement. “All right. If that will make it easier for you.”