Soldier of Fortune: The King's Courtesan (Rakes and Rogues of the Retoration Book 2) (30 page)

BOOK: Soldier of Fortune: The King's Courtesan (Rakes and Rogues of the Retoration Book 2)
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“It makes me someone you don’t really want to know.”

She released his arm and leaned back on her elbows. “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

Robert felt so cold inside. As brittle and hollow as the black ice that sometimes coated the river. It was as if the ugly things he kept at bay as he played at house with her had escaped their bonds, stronger than ever. He’d been battling to contain them ever since he’d received the latest missive from de Veres.

She patted the bed beside her. Her voluminous bed gown was loosely fastened, and the flames from the fire seemed to lick her body, dancing along her outstretched leg, her forearms, the curve of her breast. He reached for her and she welcomed him, cradling his head in her arms.

“I had hoped, somehow, that I would never have to tell you. That Charles...this...it would all fade into the past and let us start our lives anew.”

Her hand moved to where his neck and shoulder joined, soothing with a soft caress. They lay quiet and still but for their breathing. It took him a while to speak.

“I am so damned tired of being alone with it, Hope, but I’ve no idea where to begin.”

“You don’t have to be alone. Just talk to me. Begin by telling me why.”

He sighed and rolled over onto his back. “But that, my love, is the hardest part. I have never spoken of it to anyone.”

Hope turned on her side, wrapping her body around him, waiting in silence for him to continue, filled with a powerful conviction as her hand rested on his chest.
I love this man. I know this man. He is good and just and honorable. He would never harm an innocent and I’ve no fear of what he has to say.

Robert sighed and took her hand. “There were five of them. All younger sons. Royal cavaliers...drunken soldiers...who served the first King Charles. They were bored with their country posting and needed money for women and cards. They came here seeking treasure. The treasure of Cressly. They heard talk of it in the village tavern, and knew from the locals that my parents weren’t home.”

He gave a bitter laugh.

“The treasure of Cressly. It’s what my father called my sister. The treasure of Cressly was Caroline.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

 

 

“Oh, dear God!” Hope gasped in horror.

“I should have been at home to guard her. But it was Valentine’s Day. There was a girl in the village. I…. When I got home, Caroline was all alone with them. One of the household guards was murdered and the other had fled. They were convinced she knew where the treasure was and were trying to beat it out of her. She was crying, begging them…hurt and terrified. I went to get my father’s sword.”

“That monstrous one with the wolf’s head?” Her fingers traced his collarbone and she bent to kiss his throat.

He nodded, his eyes bright with pain. She knew in his mind he was back there. Determined to be with him, she pressed closer, resting her chin against his shoulder and wrapping her arm around his chest. “How old were you?” Her voice was gentle.

“Old enough to wield it. And big for my age. I bided my time, waiting an opportunity. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But one of them lost patience when she wouldn’t answer. They didn’t know she couldn’t. They…they tore at her clothes. She was kicking and screaming and one of them decided to silence her with his knife. I charged him and killed him. I don’t think any of them were more surprised than I was. It gave me hope and then….” His breath came in deep racking sighs. “Then she called out to me, telling me to run, and one of them, Harris, threw her hard against the wall. God, Hope! I heard her body breaking.”

“I’m so sorry, Robert,” she murmured, fighting back tears, holding him in a fierce grip.

He took several deep breaths, regaining control. When he spoke his voice was bleak. “I couldn’t move or breath but she managed to look at me. There was something in her eyes, as if she was pleading but I was too stunned to understand. Then I ran. I stopped to look back when I reached the doorway, but her eyes were closed and I knew she was gone.

“ Christ! He hurled his empty glass against the wall. “My sister died before my eyes and I couldn’t save her. I was supposed to be there to protect her but when she needed me I ran. The last thing she saw was my back turned away.”

“No, Robert! It wasn’t your fault. You were a boy. A grown man could not have saved her from five armed soldiers. You said yourself one of your household guard was dead and the others ran away. You
tried
to help her. You even killed one!”

“ I should have stayed.” It was barely a whisper.

“You would have died.”

“Then I should have. She was my sister. I should have died with her so she didn’t die alone. They were cronies of the king and it was soon made clear that justice would never be done. They were called before the court in Westminster Hall where they claimed it was an accident during a stupid drunken ramble. One of them even laughed and suggested she be added to their bill.”

She could feel his body vibrating with anger and continued stroking his hair.

“I would have preferred to see them humiliated, hanged, but if there was to be retribution it was clear I needed to see to it myself. I wanted to. I lusted for it. I practiced. I grew. When the war came I joined the Parliamentarian cause. It took me years to understand that Cromwell was no better, no worse, than the king. Men are men. No side lays claim to good or evil. War…killing…it’s a disguise that allows the monster within us to slip loose and roam free.”

“The monster within?”

“From what I’ve seen we all have one. Well…perhaps not you. My view is warped. It’s been my life for so many years.”

“What monster lurks within you?”

“I wanted more than just to kill them. I wanted to make them feel what they did to her. I wanted to make them cry and scream and plead. It was fierce within me. Jagged.”

“And did you?”

He sighed. “No. Other than an extra twist of the sword and telling them they died for Caroline’s murder it was not as I imagined. I had no taste for torture and they didn’t cower. I was little more than a boy and they were king’s cavaliers. They fought and spit and cursed. One laughed in my face before I killed him. We dueled. They died. It was very quick, with a battle raging all around.”

He reached for a drink that wasn’t there and Hope poured him another. “What is it like? To be a soldier and fight battle after battle?”

“Why do you ask these things?”

“Because they are a part of who you are. Because I don’t want to feel lonely, either, and I do when you lock so much of yourself away from me.”
Because I love you.

“I don’t mean to, love.” Robert pushed himself up against the pillows and gathered her in his arms, kissing her throat and eyelids. “It’s not to shut you out it’s to protect you. I’ve seen so many things. Chilling, frozen moments. The kind you keep in your head always. It changes a man. My head is crowded with things I can never get rid of. They hound me and haunt me, one image after the next. I’ve seen women raped, children murdered and people seeking sanctuary in a church be burnt alive. At Naseby…our troops murdered Royalist camp followers defending themselves with cooking pots. At Bolton, Prince Rupert’s troops killed close to two thousand civilians. I couldn’t stop any of it.”

Now the dam was broken he couldn’t stop himself. “You want to know what it’s like? It was shocking at first. One is sickened and horrified, and then one grows accustomed or one dies. Your fellow dies beside you and you’re glad it wasn’t you. You feel guilty for feeling that, and invincible, too. It’s a very strange brew that leaves some men intoxicated, and some…disassembled.”

“What do you mean?”

“Unless a fellow puts blind trust and obedience in his leaders, or else stays drunk, like many do, one’s notions of right and wrong and what’s important and what is not all fall apart. A fellow questions God, his superiors and everything he believes.”

“Was that so for you?”

“I wasn’t there because I was a believer. I was there seeking vengeance. Through it all, I hunted. I took my sword and killed them one by one. All but Harris. When the king was defeated he went into exile. But he’s back in England now. ’Tis he who waits at Farnley Woods.”

“And this has been your business in London.”

“Yes. Now you know it all. Is it what you wanted to hear? Is it better now I’ve told you?”

“I don’t know, Robert. Is it?”

“It’s not something I ever thought to recount or discuss with a lady.”

“But we both know I’m not one.”

“To me you are.” He was silent for a few moments. He didn’t see her smile. “It stirs things I’d rather leave buried, but I’m relieved I suppose. I expected you to react…with disgust and horror.”

“Why? Charles has allowed men to die for him, as his due. He revenged himself upon those who signed his father’s warrant, disguising it as politics. Prince Rupert, I’ve met him. He’s handsome and charming and loved by all. He kills without thinking. To him it’s a contest and the casualties are simply part of the score. Buckingham and Jermyn and many others kill each other over women or wounded pride. You killed armed men in battle seeking justice for you sister. I…I don’t know, Robert. Is it worse to kill a man for personal reasons rather than impersonal ones?”

He was silent for a moment. “I don’t regret killing them, though I feared it might shock you. I do regret what our forces did at Naseby and in Ireland and Scotland. How everywhere we went we seemed to tear England apart. Laying waste to villages, slaughtering civilians. I couldn’t have stopped it. I didn’t participate and I wouldn’t allow it among my men, but in pursuit of my prey I was there.”

“So you spent years doing something you didn’t believe in to avenge Caroline. Would she have wanted that? Would you have joined the army if she hadn’t died as she did?”

“I don’t know. As a child I had dreams of glory. What boy doesn’t? My father and his before him were both military men. It was expected—and I had a cool head and a talent for swordplay as a youth.”

“And if there’d been no war?”

“I don’t know what I would have done.” He blinked, looking lost. “What a wretched thing to say. It has swallowed my whole life. If I hadn’t married you I’d probably be off fighting as a mercenary right now.”

“I’m glad you’re not. I don’t think you are any more cold-blooded or detached than I am, and I don’t think that’s very good for a mercenary. And now that it’s over, there is still plenty of time to discover what you were really meant to do.”

“It’s not over. Not yet.”

“Can you not let it go? Has revenge brought you any peace?”

“No. None. You’re the only thing that brings me peace.” He kissed the top of her head and gave her a warm hug.

“But I still hear a woman weeping in my sleep. I failed her once. I won’t do so again. The thing is almost finished. Maybe after Harris I—”

“Robert, you didn’t fail her. You showed great courage as a boy. You charged five armed soldiers and slew one. You tried to rescue her against impossible odds. She knew it. She saw it. She called out for you to go.
That
was the last thing she wanted. The last thing she asked of you. She loved you. Did you ever think that seeing you leave let her feel you were safe and let her die in peace?”

“Then why do I still hear her weeping? Why does she invade my dreams? Why won’t she leave me alone? I told you I don’t believe in ghosts, only memories, but at times I feel her presence here. Late at night. In the gardens. Walking the halls. Real or memory she is restless. She plagues me unmercifully. She has for years.”

Hope shuddered. She, too, had heard similar cries at night, but he had hushed her and told her it was only night owls.

“There are times I almost hate her.”

“Oh, Robert, no!” Her heart was breaking for both of them, the brave young lad valiantly trying to do the impossible, to save his sister from five cruel and hardened soldiers, and the lovely golden-haired child who would never grow up, never have children, never marry or grow old. She struggled to contain her tears and to find words to sooth and comfort.

“It is not the sweet sister that you played with in the garden that plagues you. You torture yourself. She sought to save you just as you sought to save her. I can’t believe she wanted you to be unhappy or to spend your life in mourning or seeking revenge. You are trapped in a prison of your own making, my love. Perhaps it is you who refuses to let
her
go.

His startled gaze caught hers. She pressed on, not knowing if he would ever allow her this close again. “If she
is
here in more than memory, perhaps you keep her here. Perhaps she blames herself for your sorrow and grief. Perhaps she cries for you. You must give her leave to go, Robert. If you allow her death to be your life, the only thing about her you remember, then it’s you who destroys every good and beautiful thing about her. To think of her should make you smile, not be something you dread. No wonder you’ve been so unhappy.”

“Is that what you did with your mother?” His words were harsh, but he didn’t resist when she cuddled close.

“I didn’t have any good memories of her so I made some up. I told you I gave her a lovely service to strike back at those who would mock me, but it was really to thumb my nose at those who mocked her. I arranged a luxurious funeral procession with torches burning brandy, liveried servants—and free beer for all who came to see her on her way. She would have loved it. And now I have a happy memory when I think back on her. I know without a doubt I made her laugh and it makes me laugh, too. I
had
to make my own, Robert. You loved your sister and were very close. You must have many good memories. Can you not share some with me?”

He answered her with silence. To think of Caroline was to invite a jagged soul-wrenching pain. Why did she think he avoided it unless forced? If that was the price for her trust…it was too high
.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

 

 

“I’m sorry if I’ve intruded where I oughtn’t go, Robert,” Hope said as if reading his thoughts. “You said you were tired of being alone with it and I…I wanted to know you. The dark as well as the light. You cannot know how much your acceptance has meant to me. I want to help but I don’t know how.” His big body was cold, and she curled herself around him, passing him her warmth. “But what I want most is to have you right here, next to me. And I
do
know you. I know you’re a good man. A part of me has known and trusted this from the first moment we met. I love you, Robert Nichols, and I don’t need to know anything more than that. I’ll stop asking questions if that’s what you want.”

BOOK: Soldier of Fortune: The King's Courtesan (Rakes and Rogues of the Retoration Book 2)
9.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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