Lady Trent (15 page)

Or so in his sight, anyway. For some reason
he was intrigued by her innocence and found himself wanting her to
stay exactly as she was.

He considered the thing Jacob had confided in
him…that the keeping of her virtue was a choice of her own. But
when Marcus considered how very close they’d became….yes, he
recalled the sight of them laying back in the bed, her snuggled so
close to him, reading to him, laughing with him. Could anyone make
Jacob Trent laugh out loud for pure sport? Jacob Trent never
laughed except in particular events, such as if a noble or commoner
requested something ridiculous of him. This he would laugh
about—never the simple writings in a book. Yes, she’d brought out
an even better side of him. The man would give her a reasonable
amount of his time but still manage to keep all other priorities
straight. He would not abandon them. But she would become his life,
just as she already had. And she…well, Marcus could see she was
already in love with him, that she’d married him for that reason
alone.

He wondered how much time his dear friend had
left. It was an event he dreaded with all his heart…the death of
Jacob Trent which was expected, and would be expected all the more
after the passing of two years. Every man of his bloodline who
survived an older age at all generally died between the ages of
fifty-two and five, all except the one.

He calculated, and frowned to think of the
horrible loss it would be…nobody would truly know how valuable the
man was until he was no longer with them. And Rachel…by then she
would be all the more attached to him. Who would console her? Whose
arms would give her comfort? Whose shoulder would invite her tears?
For some reason, he imagined his own. But he couldn’t help
wonder…who would console him?

He did not deal well with the death of loved
ones. He actually didn’t deal with it at all. He had yet to even
completely grieve the loss of his parents, and twenty years had
passed since he’d been made an orphan. Jacob Trent would be no
exception. But whatever pain he did allow would subside and he
would carry on. What about Rachel?

And the emperor would surely be disappointed,
terribly hurt, at a terrible loss. The man was nearing seventy,
himself, but would outlive Jacob as those of his own bloodline
usually lived to see long life.

When the chance arose he would meet Rachel in
person, and automatically approve of and favor her. She was a
favorable person. Marcus had noted so from the time she’d entered
Harp until now, while he’d studied her searching for a fault. He
discovered none besides the one…only the one. If Rachel Trent
suffered a fault it was an unawareness of her own ability to be
simply human…to indulge in worldly and mortal affairs, especially
those derived from ordinary regard. Rightful affection. She was a
married woman now, a rich one, and well able to indulge in just
whatever.

Lady Trent was blameless except for one
thing. She had an ability to indulge, yet hadn’t a clue it existed.
Those things she had never experienced she would, things of various
sorts, and in the end become a different sort of woman, just as
Westerly was a different sort of place.

The question was, what sort of woman would
she become? Arrogant? Ill-mannered?

He shook his head at the thought of it. She
would not become either of those things or even a horrible person
at all. She would simply become a woman unlike any worldly-wise
woman he’d ever met…perhaps unlike any who’d ever existed. Or so he
imagined, but who was to truly say what would become of her in this
sort of lifestyle? It would mold her, surely, into another
person.

He imagined her and Jacob making love, not
for the first time—and not for the first time quickly did away with
the thought. Just as the night before he wondered why the image
disturbed him so.

The exact same reason he’d confessed to her,
came the answer.

He pulled his satchel from the bed and
carried it along. He would venture away, just as he had last night.
But last night he had closed the door on something other than the
room he was about to close the door upon—observance that he’d
dedicated to this newcomer, Rachel the Elder. It was over. No more
observing her. No more even letting his imagination wander away to
sinful places.

Prior to leaving the night before, while the
guests mingled in the courtyard, he’d stood up and beyond on a
balcony overlooking the scene, drinking wine and watching her every
move. She was, he’d again decided, perfect for the position. But
he, himself, was quite imperfect, and in a way he could not decide
what his feelings were. He could only consider the direction those
feelings had led him; for he’d entered into Port Templeton for
three simple causes, and mainly two. The first, claiming documents
to deliver to the emperor, could have waited since it would be some
time before he would actually venture that way. The other two;
getting drunk and bedding an ordinary could not. He thought about
Marie. He’d known her nearly as long as Patrice of Rowan. She was
always available to him. After last night she’d claimed he’d done
more than simply bed her…he’d actually made love to her, something
so far as he knew he’d never really ever truly done.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Four days passed, and Jacob got well all over
again. Just as he’d claimed, he made that unusual, speedy
recovery…and also a remarkable comeback. He dedicated the first two
days to making up to Rachel for lost time concerning the
celebration of their marriage. So they dined together, rode
together in his private carriage, strolled along the sandy shore
hand in hand.

“Have you any complaints?” He at one point
asked.

She actually did have a few secret
distresses. She’d found herself feeling agitated toward the maiden,
Holly. She could’ve complained about Roselyn, for the maiden was
forever peering at her as if she despised her. But she kept quiet
about these things…and prayed for an even greater ability to
tolerate unfavorable people. For some reason she felt bitter toward
both of these, specifically Holly. Her behavior gave the impression
she’d been closer to Jacob at one time than now. Perhaps she’d done
more in the past than merely care for his physical ailments.

But she kept all of this to herself, and
smiling softly at his profile told what she guessed was her first
intentional lie to him. “No,” she claimed, “none at all.”

Their chambers had remained separate, and he
did not so much as mention a consummation. He proved himself a
keeper of his word. She was impressed, and respected him all the
more.

In the days to follow, he was very busy with
meetings amongst other nobles and travels here and there, even
investigating this matter concerning the man “Pearce” whom she’d
yet to meet and whom remained in hiding for some reason unbeknownst
to her. He also took part in Fencing, a sport she’d by now come to
realize was a favorite of his.

“It relieves aggression,” Zaria said one day
as they sat beneath a pavilion watching while man after man took
turns taking on a challenger. Jacob was very skilled…and it was not
likely he won simply because his opponent allowed him to.

“I imagine so,” Rachel said, watching the
fierce movements and expressions upon the faces. The sword of his
challenger clanged to the ground. Rachel smiled at this, and stood
to clap with the other onlookers while Jacob raised his arms in
victory.

“Has he ever challenged Marcus?” She found
herself asking.

“They challenge one another,” Zaria said as
they reclaimed their seats, “And fight till they can move no
longer.”

“So then a winner isn’t called?”

“No, lady, they are equally as strong and
skilled.”

“I would not have guessed it.”

“Then you have yet to see Sir Marcus naked,”
said Zaria.

Rachel’s eyes rounded at her. “I can’t see
that there would be a cause to,” she snapped.

Zaria shrugged a calm shoulder. “I was merely
proving a point, milady,” she said, “not that he and I have slept
together, but I have saw him naked.”

Rachel bit her tongue and nothing more was
said on the subject. She wished at that point she would’ve never
brought it up, but curiosity had gotten the best of her…curiosity
about Marcus that should’ve perhaps not existed.

In the passing of time, Rachel had also been
encouraged to go and visit the manor, which she was now the
sovereign of.

The residents had been notified of the
wedding, and she was told they would await her arrival. According
to heralds and messengers, they were eager and anxious to meet the
new Lady of the Manor.

“There now,” Father Nelson soothed as they
traveled the way. A trail of guards followed before and behind them
and a second carriage transporting Tilly and Zaria and their
belongings. A string of guards also trailed alongside the caravan
on each side—in the case of incident—not what Father Nelson
referred to when he advised, “don’t fear, child. It will be
well.”

She had been staring out the window, studying
the scenery, what little she could see for the guards surrounding
them. She knew she was in good hands. The captain of the Guard, Sir
Edward, had returned and Jacob seemed content to have him conduct
the arrangements concerning her travels.

“I find this a difficult assignment…difficult
to conceive let alone perform.”

“I imagine so. Being lady of Orland Manor is
no small matter…more prominent than your previous title, indeed.
But the weight of that title kept you occupied, I am certain. Not
simply because of your obligations, but your dedication to the
people and their needs. Now you must simply take that same
dedication, that energy so-to-speak, and put it into this new role.
Think of the manor’s residents as those of Westerly…in need of
guidance and attendance, someone to simply care for them and their
conditions, to defend and speak for them and their local
causes.”

Quietly examining his words, she felt herself
relax, and a small smile touched her lips, reaching up to her eyes
and bringing a glow to them.

“You are a wise soul, Father Nelson. Your
words have brought me peace.”

“I am an old man,” he reminded her. “During
my many travels I have met and mingled with all sorts of people,
and in every imaginable condition.” He fell into a reminiscent
silence, which he quickly came out of. “This is not so anomalous a
matter as you are making it out to be.”

“An…anomalous?”

“Strange. Unusual. Now, although
overwhelming it
may
be, no doubt you will adjust. You see
how well you have adapted so far…and to the Great City…to your new
position. That is no small feat, child. Although I do not think it
has all completely sunk into that head of yours. But this shall be
no different, only there are issues to be confronted. Seeing as to
how the affairs of the manor have been placed into the hands of the
council, there will likely be issues to remedy. I think you very
capable of handling them.”

“According to Jacob you have travelled there
on occasion to tend to the religious affairs of the community.”

“Ah, yes, yes. Indeed, I have…over the years
on brief occasions. Not very often; my position in the Great City
keeps me quite occupied.”

“I perceive you have been there a long
time…in the Great City.”

“Thirty years have passed since I landed
there. I was present during Jacob’s first and second marriages, and
took very little time overseeing the religious matters of the
manor, only in-between those wives.”

“How did they handle it?”

She hadn’t really thought much on Jacob’s
former wives. Jacob hadn’t said anything about them, nor had anyone
else. But now she found herself curious about them both and the way
they had dealt with their leadership of the manor. Although having
had several weeks to consider it, she still found herself terribly
insecure about the whole thing. Her imagination could not even
fathom what was to come or to be. She could not fathom the idea of
being lady of this place, Orland Manor.

Father Nelson inhaled and exhaled a deep
breath as if dreading to go into it. “The first, Isabelle, was
very, um, hasty to accept the position. After all, it does mean a
great deal to both lord and emperor alike, an honor bestowed only
upon the Higher Nobles. But she wasn’t so prepared as expected,
even having been the daughter of a noble—a Higher Noble, mind you,
raised up and trained for the position. You see, it was an arranged
marriage between Jacob’s father and the former Duke of
Arlington.”

“Such arrangements are common, I’ve
learned.”

“Very common, indeed.”

“Then she was earnest about the position,”
she guessed.

“No, no. Not exactly. In fact, I would say
she took it lightly. The title, seriously, but she had very little
relations with the people and their conditions. They suffered under
her headship. As it is known, Jacob has no dealings with the manor.
Such is placed into the hands of the council and advisors when
necessary, as has been the case for some time now. You shall meet
them. It was they who have kept the people at peace…as best as
possible way back when, when Isabelle had the position. They
avoided distribution of complaints to other nobles and utmost the
emperor, and also thwarted any sort of uprising.”

“Was she beautiful?” She found herself
asking.

“Ah, yes, yes. Indeed she was,” he agreed.
“She grew into a fine young woman, but not near as beautiful as
Lady Arlington, her mother. Now, she was
very
beautiful,
turning heads as she walked about of both men and women, young and
old alike. Isabelle was more beautiful when, um, when adorned with
such ornaments as add to the beauty of a woman. As for her
position…she was not so prepared for it as Jacob or anyone else had
supposed. Truthfully, she wasn’t adequately prepared for the
marriage at all. You see, she considered Jacob’s wealth her own,
and became puffed-up and brazen. The people in Orland Manor
despised her, even to this day.”