Dark Destroyer (38 page)

Gates reached out and grabbed Alexander by both arms, holding him fast, as he looked the man in the face. The expression on Gates’ features spoke of untapped anguish from the depths of his soul. It was agony to simply breathe.

“Alex, listen to me,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I have never done an honorable thing in my life where a woman was concerned. If I run away with your bride, no matter how much I love her, I will be dishonoring myself as well as you and Kathalin. You will be shamed, the House of de Lohr will be shamed, and the House of de Lara will be shamed. I can take Kathalin and go north to Castle Questing, but how do you think my father will react when I tell him what I have done? I am his eldest son but I am not the son he is most proud of. If I take a woman that does not belong to me, I have a feeling he will disown me completely, but more than that, I cannot do that to
you
, my friend. You have shown me what a true and selfless friend you are and I cannot dishonor you in such a way. I have been trying to tell Kathalin this but she does not understand. For once… for once in my life, Alex, I need to do the honorable thing. I do it because of my love and respect for you and for Kathalin. I cannot dishonor the people I love most.”

Alexander was sincerely shocked by Gates’ speech. His eyes widened as he looked at the man, seeing how pale and worn he was. It was then that he began to understand the gist of Gates’ words and what it meant to all of them. He stepped away from Gates, breaking the man’s hold on him.

“I will
not
marry a woman you are in love with,” he said, looking to Kathalin who had turned around to face the men. “I will not
marry her, Gates.”

Gates grabbed at him, clutching him by the shoulder. “If you do not, someone else will,” he said. “Jasper will marry her to someone else and I could not bear it. You promised me that you would marry her if could not, Alex. I will hold you to that vow. To know she is with you… it will ease my mind.”

Alexander was both torn and horrified by Gates’ expectations. He hadn’t expected this reaction from Gates when he’d entered the garden and now, he was disoriented from the path the conversation had taken. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. He exhaled, sharply, an indication of the turmoil in his heart.

“Gates,
please
,” he begged softly. “Take her and go. I beseech you.”

Gates simply shook his head. “I will not,” he said huskily. “I cannot. I have given you my reasons. Please… for once, Alex, let me do the right thing.”

Alexander was stunned. To realize that Gates wasn’t going to take Kathalin and flee was almost more than he could comprehend. But in the same breath, he understood exactly what Gates was saying. To run away with Kathalin, to steal a de Lohr bride, would shame three families- de Lohr, de Lara, and de Wolfe. Gates was selfish, that was true, but for the first time in his life, he wasn’t thinking only of himself. He was thinking of Alexander for his sacrifice and of Kathalin and her honor as a wife. Gates was making the most noble decision he could possibly make.

He was sacrificing himself, and his happiness, to save the honor of three families.

“Oh… God,” Alexander finally muttered, wiping a weary hand over his face. “Are you truly serious, Gates? Is this really what you want?”

Gates, hoping that Alexander was finally understanding the situation from his standpoint, nodded his head.

“It is,” he said quietly. “It is not what my heart wants, but it is what is right. I cannot take Kathalin away, not when it will ruin so many others.”

“Then you will do nothing at all?” Alexander asked, simply to make sure he was understanding all of this correctly.

“I cannot. I
will
not.”

Alexander didn’t know what to say after that. He looked at Kathalin, who was looking at Gates. The abject sorrow on her face spoke volumes to Alexander and he wasn’t quite sure who he felt more pity for – Gates or Kathalin. Or maybe he felt more pity for himself. He was about to marry a woman who was in love with his dearest friend. And along those lines, Alexander felt the need to make something perfectly clear. For his own sake, he had to.

“Very well,” he said, his voice strangely weak. “If that is what you wish, then I will not argue with you. Just know that I gave you the chance to run.”

“I know. And I am ever grateful for it.”

Alexander nodded, addressing his next statement to both Gates and Kathalin. “Then so be it,” he said. “But I will say this here and now to the both of you; I will marry Lady Kathalin and I will take her back to Lioncross Abbey. Gates, you are not welcome there. She will be my wife and I am telling you now to stay away from her. I will not marry a woman who fornicates with another man, love or no love, and if I catch you with her or anywhere near her, I will kill you. I will not be made a fool while you two carry on behind my back.”

Kathalin’s eyes filled with tears again as Gates nodded. “I would not do that to you, my friend,” he said. “My love for her will never end but when she becomes your wife, that is where that love ceases to be spoken or acted upon. I swear to you upon my oath as a knight.”

Alexander believed him. It had been hard thing for him to say, and for Gates to acknowledge, but it was something that needed to be said. He looked at Kathalin.

“Is this understood, my lady?” he asked.

Kathalin closed her eyes and tears spilled down her cheeks. “It is,” she whispered tightly. “I would not dishonor my marriage in such a way, Alex.”

“Swear it.”

“I do.”

Satisfied, but distraught and muddled, Alexander turned away from the pair. He had to get away, to collect his thoughts, and to come to terms with his future. He needed to do it alone. With a heavy sigh, this one of resignation, he headed for the garden gate.

“I have been ordered to stay away from you, Gates,” he said as he lifted the latch on the old iron gate. “Do not tell Jasper that I came to see you. I fear it may cause… issues.”

Gates watched the man as he opened the gate. “I will not tell him,” he said. “And Alex… thank you. For everything you have done, and everything you will do for Kathalin, you have my undying gratitude.”

Alexander didn’t say anything as he continued through the garden gate, letting the thing creak shut behind him. After he was gone, Gates sighed heavily and turned to Kathalin.

They gazed at each other in the growing darkness, a thousand words of sorrow and love and anguish filling the air between them. Neither one of them wanted this moment in time to end, this very space of time that had been carved out for the two of them, but it was impossible to hold back the moments as they ticked away. Time was passing.

They were passing.

It was time to end it.

“I suppose this is the last time I will be able to speak with you alone,” he said quietly. “It seems that things are happening rather quickly and I should not be seen here with you. It would cause you great trouble if we were discovered together.”

His words were like daggers to Kathalin’s heart, poking holes into her, causing her to bleed her emotions out all over the place. She was so drained, physically and emotionally, that it was difficult to stand much less think. But much like Gates, she realized that their time together was at an end. Everything between them was at an end. The pain she felt was unbearable.

“I am not worried about myself,” she said. “But I am worried about you. My father is already angry with you. Finding us alone together would only make it worse.”

Gates nodded, his gaze lingering on her, knowing it would probably be the last time he ever saw her. His heart, so recently awakened with feelings of love for the woman, was shattering into a million pieces. It would take him many lifetimes to collect all of the shards. He didn’t even want to try. He had to get away from her because the longer he lingered, the more painful the separation would be. Taking a few steps in her direction, he grasped her by the arms and planted a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“Be happy,” he whispered, his throat tight with tears. “Be good to Alex. He is a good man.”

Kathalin burst into quiet tears, trying to grasp him but he pulled away from her. “I love you, Gates,” she murmured. “Until the end of time, I will love you.”

Gates had to turn away from her because, for the first time in his adult life, he realized he was fighting off tears. “And I will be true to you and only you until I die,” he said hoarsely. “You are my heart, Kathi. Never forget that.”

He was to the garden gate before Kathalin could say anything more. It seemed as if he were moving very quickly because by the time he reached the gate, he was nearly running. He opened the gate, nearly yanking it off its hinges, before charging through it. He was gone so quickly that that suddenly emptiness left in his wake was startling and painful.
Too
painful.

Kathalin sank to her knees and wept.

“I have come to see Lady Rosamund,” Elreda said. “Is she available?”

After a soft knock on Rosamund’s chamber door, Rosamund’s maid had opened the panel to find Lady de Lohr standing on the landing outside. The maid remembered Lady de Lohr from visits to Hyssington in the past but she wasn’t sure she should admit her until Rosamund, on her bed, heard the woman’s heavily accented voice.

“Elreda?” she said. “Is that you?”

At the sound of Rosamund’s voice, Elreda pushed into the chamber, nearly shoving the maid out of the way. Clouds of the heavy clove smell greeted her and she rubbed at her nose, avoiding sneezing as Jasper so often did.

“Aye, it ‘tis,” Elreda said, her attention eagerly focused in the direction of Rosamund’s voice, towards her great bed. “Is it you, Rosamund? It has been so long since we last spoke, my dear friend!”

Rosamund hadn’t physically seen Elreda in fifteen years, ever since the symptoms of her disease started becoming apparent. Elreda and Henry had invited her and Jasper to Lioncross, many times, and Elreda and Henry had even come to Hyssington and Trelystan a few times, but in all that time, Rosamund had never made an appearance, pleading illness or some other manner of excuse. But now, Elreda was here, on Rosamund’s doorstep, and there was nothing Rosamund could do but try to stay away from her.

She didn’t want the woman to see the truth.

“It is me, my dearest,” she said, making sure to keep herself covered up and remaining behind her sheers. “Please do not come any closer. I am ill and it is contagious.”

Elreda came to within a foot or so of the bed, seeing her friend, swaddled up like a baby, through the sheer fabric of the curtains. She studied the woman through the wispy material, reacquainting herself with her friend from long ago. From the vivacious dark-haired lass to this bound creature, times had changed, indeed.

“I am sorry to hear it,” she said after a moment. “It is unfortunate that you have been so ill, so often, that you have not come to see me in so many years. I have missed you.”

Rosamund could see her friend through the fabric, as well. Elreda was older in feature, but still as lovely as she remembered from their younger years. In truth, it did her heart good to see the woman.

“I have missed you, as well,” she said. “But my health is very poor. You are looking well, my dearest. How are your children? I hear that we are to be related now. I cannot tell you how happy I am at such joyous news.”

Elreda smiled faintly. She was increasingly curious at Rosamund’s head-to-toe covered appearance, with only her eyes visible through a slit in the fabric covering her face. She wondered what terrible affliction her friend should have that would keep her so tightly wrapped and so utterly secluded. She thought to ask but then she assumed that if Rosamund wanted her to know, she would have told her. Still, she was very curious and concerned.

“I am happy, also,” she said. “At least, I am happy at the prospect of becoming related to you. But that is why I have come, Rosamund. There is much turmoil surrounding this wedding and I am not sure if you know this. Have you been told?”

Rosamund knew immediately what Elreda was referring to. There was little doubt in her mind. “Do you speak of my daughter’s love for another man?” she asked. “If so, I am aware. My daughter came to tell me herself.”

She didn’t sound particularly sympathetic as she spoke and Elreda was surprised. There was something in Rosamund’s statement that suggested coldness. It was strange, considering she had always known Rosamund to be kind and compassionate. Still, perhaps the years had changed her. Having not seen or spoken to Rosamund in many years, it was possible that the woman had changed a great deal. That was a disheartening thought.

“What did your daughter tell you?” Elreda asked.

Rosamond paused before replying, as if contemplating what, exactly, to say. When she spoke, there was a disconnect to her words, as if she didn’t much care for her daughter’s problems. “She told me that she is in love with Gates de Wolfe,” she said. “You know Gates, of course. He has led my husband’s armies for many years. He and Alexander are close friends. My daughter also believes that Gates is in love with her but we know that to be false. Gates de Wolfe is incapable of loving just one woman. It is not in his nature. I am sorry that my daughter believes herself to be in love with the man, but she will get over it. You needn’t worry. She will not shame your son or the House of de Lohr.”

Frankly, Elreda couldn’t believe the coldness she was hearing from her long-time friend. “But…,” she began, stopped, and then started again. “Rosamund, you know what it is like to be young and in love. Sometimes you do not overcome such things so easily. Alex seems to believe that Gates is, indeed, in love with Lady Kathalin He was in the hall pleading his case not an hour ago. He does not want to marry your daughter because he firmly believes she is in love with Gates and he with her.”

Rosamund looked at her friend, the bright blue eyes piercing through the sheer fabric. “That is of no consequence,” she said. “Alexander is a much better match for my daughter than Gates de Wolfe.”

“Why should you say that?”

“Because she will not be shamed by Alexander’s past,” Rosamund pointed out as if Elreda was a fool. She was beginning to grow annoyed. “Why is my daughter’s misdirected love of such concern to you, Elreda? I told you that she will forget it. Gates will forget whatever he feels for her, too. I am sure he has felt what he thought to be love many times in the past. Knowing him,
too
many times. Jasper is arranging for the wedding to take place as soon as possible so this foolishness will come to an end. You put too much concern in the feelings of the young. They will forget soon enough and realize, in the end, that we knew what was best for them.”

Elreda was speaking with someone she didn’t know. The Rosamund from years ago would never have spoken in such a way about love or emotion. The woman before her was as hard as stone and just as cold. Elreda began to move, to come around the side of the bed, to where Rosamund was sitting. She didn’t like the curtains up between them, shielding Rosamund from her. Shielding the woman she used to know. There was something odd and unfeeling going on here and she was determined to get to the bottom of it.

“You have changed,” Elreda said. “The Rosamund I knew those years ago would not have discounted love so easily. I remember the days when you were very much in love with Jasper and he with you. Has so much changed, Rosamund, that you would forget young love?”

Rosamund could see that Elreda was moving closer and she tried to shrink away. “I have not forgotten it,” she said. “It is wonderful while it lasts but when it ends, there is nothing more brutal. Mayhap, in a way, I am saving Kathalin from knowing such pain.”

“Surely she knows it now.”

Rosamund looked away. “It is for the best,” she said. “Soon it will be but a memory as she comes to know Alexander. He is a likeable young man; mayhap she will even fall in love with him, too.”

Elreda came to a halt, seeing her old friend very close and contemplating her next move. “No one wants Alexander to be married more than I do,” she said. “But to marry a woman we know is in love with someone else… I am not sure that is right, not even in my eagerness for my son to wed. Can you not see this, too, Rosamund? Or have you changed so much that you are hardened to any matters of the heart?”

Rosamund sighed faintly. “I have grown up,” she said. “I have come to realize that love is a fool’s dream, Elreda. If you and Henry still share love at your age, then I commend you. But it is not always so with most people. It is not true with Jasper and me. Marriage can be a prison more than the four walls of this chamber when the love that used to be there is gone.”

Elreda’s features narrowed in concern. “And you would commit your own daughter to such a prison?”

“I am doing it for her own good.”

Elreda shook her head. “Nay, you are not,” she said, yanking back the sheers so she could see Rosamund without any material between them. “What is your motivation for this, Rosamund? Are you somehow punishing her for knowing love when you no longer do? Are you punishing her because she is young and passionate, and you can no longer feel the same way? There is something very wrong here for you to be so cold towards your own child. She loves a man who evidently loves her in return. Are you so bitter and jealous of that love that you would separate them simply because you have the power to do so? That is not the Rosamund I used to know and love. The woman I used to know was generous and compassionate, not petty and cruel. Is that what you have become?”

Rosamund’s bright eyes flashed as she turned on her friend. “You have no idea what I have become,” she growled. Suddenly, she yanked off the veil across her face, revealing a collapsed, flat nose and lips that were twisted with old scars and new sores. She ripped off the covers on her hands, showing that four of her ten fingers had been lost and stubbed by disease. Her flesh was gnarled and black, and she thrust her hands in Elreda’s face. “
This
is what I have become! A monster, a creature who hides in darkness, a twisted relic who lost the only love she knew long ago because he could not bear to touch this gnarled flesh! Have I become cold and unfeeling? It is very possible considering that, for the last fifteen years, that is all I have known. How dare you come in here and accuse me of being cold and unfeeling, Elreda de Lohr! You live in your beautiful home with a husband who is still attracted to you while I live in the dank depths of a hellish existence. You have no right to judge me!”

Elreda was appalled at what she was seeing; her gorgeous friend was now decayed with a horrible disease that had robbed her of her physical beauty. Tears sprang to her eyes as Rosamund pushed stubby, black fingers into her face, but to her credit, Elreda didn’t back away. She remained in place as Rosamund raged, her heart breaking for the truth behind Rosamund’s years of absence. Now, some things were becoming clear but others were not. Her features were wrought with distress as she spoke.

“My friend,” she murmured. “My dear and true friend. Now I understand why you have been captive in your own home. There is nothing I can say that will heal the scars left by this disease, for you have every right to show your agony. But I will say this – has this disease also robbed you of your good heart? You used to have one. You were so very kind and gentle, but it would seem now your heart is as twisted as your body. How could you become so cold and gnarled? How could you forget about love and blame your daughter because she has experienced it? That is not the Rosamund de Lara I grew to know and love. It is as if your very soul has left you!”

Rosamond sat back on her bed as if she had been struck, as if suddenly realizing she had just exposed her secret to the world.
To her beautiful friend
. Quickly, she lowered her head, struggling to put her veil over her face with fingers that didn’t work correctly any longer. She pulled the sleeves of her robe over her hands, covering them, hiding them from Elreda, her embarrassment and horror filling the room like a cold, gray fog. Even Elreda could feel it, breathing it in, as Rosamund shrank away from her.

“You may go now, Elreda,” she said, her voice sounding strangely weak after her outburst. “It was good to see you again. I pray your good health continues.”

Just like that, Rosamund was shutting her off. No more conversation, conjecture, or the exhibition of pain. A simple shut-down of everything. Elreda stood over her friend as the woman tried desperately to cover herself, her heart breaking for the lovely woman that once was. In spite of everything, she didn’t hate her. She didn’t even dislike her. She felt a good deal of compassion and love for her old friend, now a mere shell of herself. Impulsively, she leaned down and wrapped her arms around the woman, squeezing tightly.

“And I pray you find your heart again,” she whispered, kissing Rosamund on the top of her wimpled head. “No matter what was spoken here today, you are still my friend and I still love you. I pray that you find peace, Rosamund. I pray that you know happiness again. I will pray for many things for you, but most of all, I will pray that you reconsider your stance against your daughter’s happiness. Remember what it was like to be in love with a man, Rosamund. Surely you cannot forget such a thing.”

At the first touch of the embrace, Rosamond stiffened and tried to pull away. It had been fifteen years since anyone had touched her. But the moment she felt the warmth of human contact, and the love of Elreda’s embrace, the tears began to come. She didn’t realize how much she has missed such things, an embrace to tell her that she was still loved in spite of the fact that she had become a slave to the disease that imprisoned her. It was the most simple of gestures yet one of profound power. As Elreda gently squeezed, Rosamund couldn’t help the tears from flowing.

She couldn’t stop them.

The pain, the years of pain, washed down her face, dampening the veil that covered her twisted features. Elreda felt the woman sob beneath her and her tears quietly joined Rosamund’s. She couldn’t help it. Together, the old friends wept for the cruelty life had dealt Rosamund and for the soul she had seemingly lost. Perhaps it was too late to reclaim anything; perhaps not. For the moment, the coldness from Rosamund was gone and, once again, she felt human.

She felt loved.

For the moment, it was simply her and Elreda, and a simple embrace that Rosamund needed so badly.