Unbidden (The Evolution Series) (29 page)

S
he’d placed herself in a supremely vulnerable position today. According to Theo, she’d done it in order to preserve their betrothal. He’d considered it from every angle. No matter how he looked at it, her future rested in his hands. Win or lose.

He stirred up the fire against the cold night air as he carefully sorted through his memories of Rochelle expressing affection or regret
. Just two days after she’d sent Gilbert to find Riculf, she’d said
“I have done a foolish thing, David.” 
Rochelle sinking to the ground when he’d said Riculf’s name. Her desperation at the river on his last afternoon at Alda. And the night of Marta’s labor.
“You have burdens of your own, tasks set before you by those you should be able to trust.”  

“What if I hurt you, or disappoint you?”
she had questioned, knowing she’d already done just that.

“Then I would have to forgive you, if you asked.”
  He had said the words easily, never dreaming how pertinent the inquiry had been.

“I do not deserve you,”
she’d replied.

Maybe she did and m
aybe she didn’t. If he forced himself to let go of his resentment, he knew that she honestly regretted her decision to hire Riculf. She’d named the new gelding Regret, and if that wasn’t heartfelt contrition he didn’t know what was.

The real crux of the matter was whether he could trust her in the future
. If he wed Rochelle, he wanted their marriage to realize the potential he foresaw. He wanted to know that expressions of love were motivated by emotion, not manipulation. He wanted a wife who would stand at his shoulder, loyal and firm, no matter what.

Smoke swirled into the mist, one immediately indiscernible from the other
. Ash and vapor floating into the darkness, impossible to grasp, disappearing into the night. He knew the two different particles were there. Could treachery and trust coexist as easily?

Perhaps some questions could not be answered, or some answers could not be known so much as felt.

He rolled away from the fire, still undecided. After the tournament he would talk to her. After the tournament he would decide.

The ground was hard and cold
. He wished for a real bed and a good meal. He would return to Theo’s home late tomorrow. The house was closer to the tournament field, and sleep in a warm bed would be good for his body. He was ready for the battle ahead and ready for this contest to be over. Other decisions would come after.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Rochelle sat by the fire in Theo’s hall Thursday night, alone except for her mother
. The unwilling Damsels had been herded to bed at least an hour before by their chaperones and mothers. Even Theo had retired, obviously exhausted from his dual responsibilities as lord of the town and David’s training partner. Before leaving her and Marian for the night, Theo had offered her the first ray of hope since Sunday.

“If I were David,” he had said quietly before parting with them, “I would want to spend tonight in town, in a warm bed
. Not that I know anything in particular, mind you. Pure speculation.”

Rochelle resolved to sit here all night if necessary
. It was important to her to speak with David before the tournament. While it might be too late to mend her relationship with him, she would at least have him know, before he had won or lost Alda, how she really felt, that her regrets began and ended with him and were not tied to his control of the only home she’d ever known.

Marian broke the silence
. “I know what ye did and it is a piss-poor way to start a marriage.”

Rochelle blinked at her for a minute
. Her mother had been a silent pillar next to her for the entire week, neither prying nor defending, just there. Rochelle had been thankful for her detached support, but a few words of comfort would have been welcome. Comfort did not appear to be foremost in Marian’s mind.

“Did Gilbert tell you, or have you learned it through the rumors like everyone else?”

“Of course Gilbert told me, that very morning. He has worked for me longer than ye, girlie.”

“And you let him go?”

Marian stared at her, exasperated. “I wanted to summon a priest for ye the day David first came to Alda, but ye said ‘Nay’. Theo and I cooked up a plan to save him from this foul tournament, and yer response was a mite more than insulting. Ye seem dead set on plowing your life right into the depths, and every time I guide ye, ye just till it harder.”

Rochelle felt tears prick behind her eyes. “I know, Mother.”  Desperate for any manner of comfort, she knelt in front of the chair, putting her head in her mother’s lap
. “I was stupid and childish. I lashed out in anger because of something I heard him say and I hate myself for it. For the first time in my life, I have made a mistake I cannot fix, or at least make amends for.”

Marian brushed short fingers over Rochelle’s cheek
. “If ye are honest with him, perhaps ye can begin again.”

“I have been trying to tell him, almost since the day I sent Gilbert away
. At first I lacked courage, and then, when Riculf arrived, I guess he figured it out himself. Now he will not listen to me. He refuses to even be in the same town with me.”  She sighed. “What if he will not forgive me?  What if he does not want me any more?”

“I doubt ye need worry on that
. Time can heal many things, even betrayal. And I think he will want to forgive ye.”

“I do not think I deserve him any more.”

“Theo says ye were very brave with the emperor. Do not now set yerself down too low. Ye made a mistake, but ye are still a good girl and worthy of him. Do not forget that.”

Rochelle could only nod against her mother’s legs, overwhelmed by the unexpected words of kindness after weeks of lonely self-recrimination and days of blatant derision by everyone except Theo
. Mother and daughter sat for a long time in silence, Rochelle’s mind reviewing for the millionth time exactly what she would say to David if she ever got the chance.

She knew when Magnus lifted his head to give a tiny yip that David had come
. She rose shakily from the floor, her well-rehearsed side of the conversation gone from her head, replaced by a nervous buzzing. She turned to see him filling the kitchen doorway, broad and forbidding in the feeble light of the hall. Marian gave her hand an encouraging squeeze before she trundled up the stairs to the sleeping chamber.

His dark eyes were shadowed, the line of his lips impassive
. He scratched Magnus’s head absently. In spite of his relaxed demeanor, something unholy radiated off of him, and, if possible, he appeared physically bigger than he’d been just a few days ago. The conversation she must have with him suddenly felt like the most daunting task she’d ever assigned herself, but she knew she could not back away from him. Not now.

Unfortunately
, her voice failed her, so she indicated a chair with her hand.

His eyes narrowed at her peremptory gesture.

She dropped her hand and swallowed the lump in her throat before walking to him, the scuffing of her feet echoing in the hall. He stared down at her with no particular acknowledgement. His brown eyes betrayed neither fondness nor anger, or even interest.

“I wish to speak to you,” she pleaded
. “It can be in this doorway or in those chairs or at the kitchen table or in the stable or anywhere you choose. I have been waiting in this hall for five days to talk to you and I will do so or I will run mad. Tonight.”  Her voice quaked with pent up emotion by the end. She did not even try to hide the quivering of her bottom lip.

He frowned
. “Not now. I am focused on the tournament. I do not need any distractions.”

She worked her fingers together nervously
. “It means a great deal to me to talk to you before the tournament.”

“Why?” he asked sharply.

“I want you to know that what I say is not motivated by whether you control Alda or not.”

He considered her reply
for a moment. “I suppose there is some value to that. Let us go outside.”

Lightheaded wi
th relief, she turned to stride across the hall. David opened the door for her. She took a deep, bolstering breath of brisk air. He sat on the top step of the portico, elbows propped on his knees, without inviting her to join him. She decided she would settle next to him, letting only a handspan between them. His warmth tugged at her, but she knew she could not touch him. It felt as if he’d erected an invisible wall between them.

They sat silently for a few moments before Rochelle broached the topic at hand
. “I would like to say what I have to say, even though I know I will be telling you things you already know. Are you willing to listen to me without interruption?”

He turned his palms skyward, the gesture eloquent in its indifference
. He didn’t even want to be here. Why would she think he would actually participate in the conversation?

A physical pain settled in her chest, as though she’d been stabbed by his cruelty
. She took a shallow breath, using every fiber of her determination to speak. “I directed Gilbert to find a competitor for the tournament after overhearing your conversation with Theo. I regretted it the very next day but had given him such vague instructions I did not even know where to send someone to stop him. I kept telling myself it would all be put right somehow. It has only gotten worse. I impetuously betrayed you, a person who has shown nothing but patience and strength and kindness to me.”  Her voice began to break. “Worst of all, when I began to realize what a horrible mistake I had made, who did I want to ask for help and advice?  You. But I did not have the courage to do it, because I knew it would turn you away from me forever. I foolishly hoped you would just win…just win the tournament and never know what I had done. Now you know of it and my betrayal has been talked about in town. I know that must be humiliating to you.”

David listened carefully, not certain she realized tears were trickling down her face
. She spoke methodically between gasping inhalations. She’d obviously put a great deal of careful thought into what she said and now concentrated mightily on getting all the words out in the right order.

She grabbed his hand, kissed the back of it then gripped it tightly between b
oth her own hands. “I want to say that I am sorry for all of that. It is an immense number and magnitude of things to be sorry about, but I am. And the most important thing I want you to know is that I love you. I realized it too late, but I do. I love you and I want to be with you, no matter what happens.”

David
stared at his hand held in a deathgrip. He cleared his throat. “I must confess, the combination of hearing your words and seeing you weep leaves me speechless.”

She released him, her hands wiping at her cheeks in distress
. “ Oh, I did not want to cry!  You will think it is some female trick!”  She began to sob in earnest, dropping her head to her knees.

“Rochelle,” he murmured, putting an arm around her waist to straighten her
. She curled toward him so easily, so naturally, to press her wet face to his neck, spasms of remorse wracking her frame. “Go easy now. Calm yourself.”  He rubbed her back and spoke soft nonsense until she was able to recover.

She held on around his waist
, drinking in his warmth and solidity and familiar scent, in full knowledge that this could be the last time she was this close to him.

“By this time tomorrow, all will be decided,” he said firmly.

She nodded, afraid to ask exactly what his decision would be.

“We will talk again, after the tournament.”

“Oh, David, please,” she cried, “please do not ask me to wait another day!”

“After the tournament,” he said firmly.

“You do mean
tomorrow
after the tournament, not five days after it?” she asked with a sniffle.

He chuckled
. “Yes, tomorrow, as soon as I am able.”

She pulled back from him enough to look at his face, her inhalations jerky and irregular after her storm of tears
. “What do you mean, as soon as you are able?  Are you expecting to be injured?”

“No
. I expect the day to be…hectic.”

“I am afraid for you,” she said, ducking her head back under his chin.

“Do you think I will lose?”

“I do not know what to think
. I have no idea what a tournament even is.”

“I am going to win, Rochelle,” he said calmly as he set her away from him
. “Now, let me get my rest.”

She stood quickly, smoothing her tunic down
. “Can I see you in the morning?”

“I would rather not.”

She took a small, hiccupping breath. “As you wish. I hope you sleep well. I hope you win, for what it is worth now.”  She thought she saw his eyes warm slightly at her words. She waited, reluctant to move, until he walked to the door. They entered the house together. She had reached the bottom of the steps when he called out to her.

“How is Marta’s son?  I wanted to ask you when you arr
ived. Your first night here did not allow for much conversation.”

The question checked her, thoughts of Marta’s grief bringing a pain so real and poignant compared to the dramas of Ribeauville that she felt almost ashamed of her own suffering
. “The baby died,” she replied softly.

He made a slight acknowledging moan in his throat
. “When?”

“The day you left.”

“Were you there?”

“Yes.”

“I am sorry for Marta and Terence.”

“They would like to know that
. Perhaps you can tell them when we go home.”  His expression reverted to the careful blank one he wore to mask his thoughts. Apparently the conversation was over. She wiped a fresh batch of tears off her cheeks as she climbed the steps.

Marian waited for her in the darkness
. She patted the mattress, inviting Rochelle to sit down.

“I do not hold out much hope,” Rochelle whispered
. “He listened. He was distant, though kind.”

“He faces a difficult challenge tomorrow.”

“Yes, that is what he said. He is focused on the tournament. I have no idea what to expect tomorrow. Do you?”

“I have never seen pretend combat
. The real kind is brutal,” Marian said with a shudder.

“I will take my healing kit.”

Marian searched her face. “How did ye leave things with him?” 

“He said all will be decided by tomorrow at this time
. He did not give me any assurances at all.”

Mari
an squeezed her fingers sharply. “His mind is where it need be tonight. Ye must keep your thoughts right, too. He is not lost to ye yet. Do not give up.”

Rochelle straightened
her spine. “You are right,” she answered. “Until he says otherwise, I am still his betrothed. Tomorrow, I will act like it.”  She went to bed, and though she was unable to sleep, at least the burden of secrecy had been lifted. Her future rested entirely in David’s hands. He had asked her many times to trust him, so now she must do just that.

At least she’d gotten the chance to speak with him
. She had revealed all the emotions in her heart. Perhaps his side of the conversation had not matched her imaginings of forgiveness and renewed pledges of undying love, but his compassionate response proved he was worth losing everything for.