The Dark Lady (11 page)

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Authors: Dawn Chandler

BOOK: The Dark Lady
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Curious she nodded her head for him to continue.


You were a little over a year old and the joy of my life when Patricia caught me with my mistress.”

Van sucked in a shocked breath and he paused.

Her mother had always said they ran on the night she was born. Not a year later. Not trusting herself to speak, she impatiently twirled her fingers at him to continue.


I was drunk and when she dumped the chamber pot on us and then hit me on the head with it I lost control of my anger.” His voice dropped to a dull whisper. “I hit her.”

She clenched her teeth and tightened her fists into hard balls. Honor and understanding warred within her as she listened to his soft voice. Honor bound by pride and held by a deeply rooted set of values meant she could not stand aside and see a woman abused, but understanding caressed her anger and softened it.

She could see the same shame in his face that she felt on the rare occasion that she herself had hit a woman. Her fingers loosened and pain filled her heart.


When I awoke the next day, she and you were gone. I have searched for you for years. It got back to me about four years after she had left me that she had gotten an annulment and remarried. I remarried a year after I found out.” He shook his head and smiled sadly. “I stopped looking for her, but never stopped looking for you.”

Pain filled his eyes and Van could not stop the pity that tightened her chest. She clenched her jaw in anger, but knew she was only angry at herself. She felt not only that she was betraying her mother with her pity for him, but if she believed him then her mother had betrayed her.

Her stomach turned painfully and she clenched her throat tightly against a wave of nausea. That lie was responsible for her entire life, a life that had been full of pain and war. She could not even imagine the kind of woman she would have been if she had lived the soft life of a normal female.

Anger at herself, at him, and at her mother boiled together into a dangerous potion within her stomach. It churned and tightened, sending tendrils of hot rage through her senses and she lashed out. “And now after all these years you think you can just come into my life and all will be well, just because you say you are sorry. Nay, you didn’t even say that, did you?” The fake voice cracked slightly, but she managed to hold it together.


Nay, but I am sorry.” His face darkened with a deep look of sadness. Taking a deep breath that shuddered through him, he shook his head. “I will let my men stay here tonight, first thing in the morning I will take you to your new husband. He is waiting for you.”


Husband? You make it sound as if he has already been wedded to me and is not just my betrothed?” Van could feel the rage radiating from her and her fingers whitened as she gripped the smooth wooden arms of the chair in which she sat. The rage swirled around her and threatened to overpower her. She was losing control. It worried and excited her all at once. She wanted to let her temper loose and release some of the pent up energy that had been plaguing her for days.

She ground her teeth together painfully. The knowledge of what was at stake was all that held her together. She had given her word to her mother and honor would allow nothing less than fulfilling her promise.

Matthew looked at her, but appeared uncertain of how to answer. A deep sense of foreboding settled across her. She clenched her fists tightly and reminded herself of all that was at stake.

Her honor was all she had left to her. Her word had been given, and not just to her mother. If she broke her word to her mother, it would only affect her, but if she broke her word to the women and children she was responsible for, it would devastate their lives. These women had no one to turn to and were dependent on her care.

She glanced around at Amy and sighed. Amy was one more person who was now depending on her. She looked back at her father and cleared her throat. The anger was pushed down, but for how long she was unsure. “Well?” She was sure of one thing. She did not want to hear his answer.

Matthew looked at her and shook his head. “He has, by proxy. I sanctioned the marriage and it is legal. It will be satisfied as soon as it is consummated.”

Her reasons for staying calm faded from her mind like wisps of morning mist under the heat of her anger. She clenched her hands tightly into fists and tried to rise. She felt Amy grasp her shoulder.

Amy tightened her fingers desperately into her flesh. Van dropped back down into the uncomfortable chair, but could not stop the violent shaking that racked her body.


Milady, calm down. You knew he had picked a husband for you.” Amy sounded panicked.


Aye, I fully understand that, but I was under the mistaken impression I would have an ounce of say in the man I was to marry. What if I don’t like him, what if he is mean and cruel? Then what do I do?” She nearly leapt from the chair and began to pace furiously across the small room. She had never felt so out of control in her life. She, the master of all situations, had just been thrust into a situation she had no control over at all.


I am sure he has good qualities or else Earl Thereamong would not have chosen him.” Amy said softly stepping in front of Van to cease her stalking across the floor. Van knew the girl was trying to calm her, but it wasn’t working. Anger still swirled dangerously.

Van turned to the man she had been raised to fear and, feigning a calm she didn’t feel, demanded, “Fine. Why did you choose this man?”


His estates are adjacent to mine. I can see you and the grandchildren whenever I please,” he said in a calm, rational way that made Van want to scream. “He is a good man.”

Van knew there was no use in fighting it, not now. If she didn’t like the man that her father had chosen, she would get the marriage annulled. Her father may want her near him, but that did not mean that she had to stay married to the man he had shackled her to. If she didn’t consummate the marriage, she would be free. If there was too much of a fight, she would just disappear. Even though she was getting too old to be the Dark Knight she would never be found if she didn’t want to be.

Even with that knowledge, she hated the fact that something had been arranged that involved her and she wasn’t in charge of it.

The rage she had been feeling for the last week was on the verge of ripping free from its fragile constraints. Van turned and walked off trying, unsuccessfully, to keep the Dark Knight controlled.

 

CHAPTER 5

 

 

Van squinted against the sharp morning light as the sun breached the horizon behind her father. He huffed and puffed and paced before her, dust billowing with each stomp of his feet. Irritation swirled within her as he ranted about the proprieties of sidesaddles.

His eyes bulged in anger and he shook his finger at her. “It is indecent for a properly bred young lady to ride astride.”

Images of her upbringing raced through her mind and she snorted lightly. Properly bred, indeed, she thought.

Van put her hands on her hips. She did not want the extra attention that a scene would cause, but she was not going to ride in that silly contraption they called a saddle.


You did not bring a carriage. I have never used a sidesaddle and I am not going to ride for two days in a saddle that I have never used.” She took a deep breath and tried to control the uneasiness that swarmed around her head like a swarm of gnats.

He came to a halt and stared at her with his mouth agape. “Never ridden a side...How could you never...How could your mother...” His words came in a stuttering rush that boiled her blood.

She clinched her fists until her nails dug into her palms. She stepped toward him, but only managed to get her fist half raised when she felt hands grip her arm. Amy yanked. Van ignored her and stared defiantly at her father. “How dare you question my mother?”

Amy pulled hard at her arm. Van arched one eyebrow as she faced the man she had hated for so many years that she could no longer count them.


Mi
lady.

Amy’s voice was nearly a screech.

Van winced. She would have liked to swat at Amy like a wretched gnat. Unable to ignore her maid any longer, she swung her head around to glare at the short, stubborn woman. “Nay, I will not budge on this, not now,” Van barked at her. She pushed away the smothering guilt as Amy cringed away from her icy stare.

Van turned back toward Matthew and forced her voice back into the high falsetto, the high-pitched tones breaking across the still morning air. “And definitely, not with you.”

Matthew Fordella scowled at her ferociously. Then finally he threw up his arms in apparent surrender and stormed away. He called back to Amy as he stomped off, “Good luck with her, my child. You will need it.”

Relief soothed Van’s nerves as she watched Matthew bark at his men to saddle her horse. Damien swayed from foot to foot as the men approached. Ears pinned to his head he snorted and pawed at the dusty ground.

Van stood calmly as the men closed in on Damien. She was the only one he trusted. This would not end well, but she did not say a word. A little revenge would do her heart some good. Her unease faded and a grin spread.

The first man cursed loudly as he took a bite to the arm. A second man received a bite to the side. The men fled out of Damien’s reach as the huge destrier reared up, slashing the air with his sharp hooves.

Van took a step toward the men and the rearing horse but was stopped by Amy’s soft words. “Milady.”

She took a deep breath, but didn’t look back. “No.” She walked past her father and the men without even glancing at them.

Damien held out his muzzle and nickered softly as she approached. As she watched the tension slip from her steed’s muscles she could feel some of the stresses drain from her as well.

Matthew grumbled something inaudible about stubborn asses as he turned and stomped away. She wondered in amusement if he was talking of her or Damien. Perhaps both, she thought and smiled smugly as she threw a saddle onto the now calm horse.

Soon Van sat proudly on her stallion and watched Amy receive help onto a docile mare. The poor girl clutched at the reins until her knuckles turned white and her hands shook, but she gave Van a weak smile.

Amy had confessed to her over the short time they had spent together that she was terrified of horses. Now to see Amy braving her fears, for her, made Van’s chest tighten. Loyalty from the men assigned to her, men she had proven herself to over the years was expected, but the loyalty this girl showed her was surprising.

The pack horse was loaded with a large trunk that held several newly made dresses, a pile of chain mail, a black helm, a long sword, and a thick chest plate. The men grumbled about the weight and threw glances her way. She was not positive if it was in suspicion or if it was just her guilty conscious that pricked at her.

Van watched her father spur his horse forward and grudgingly followed. She patted Damien’s neck, as much to comfort herself as him, and looked back at the cottage one last time.

She would make arrangements with Verges to fix the thatching on the roof and the windows that needed to be replaced. She had never been close to Dr. Paul and even though she would always make sure he was well taken care of, she didn’t believe she would ever return to see him.

A sudden feeling of loss assaulted her. She would never see this little house again and that disturbed her. Tears welled behind her eyes so she squinted into the sun to conceal them.


We need to discuss your saddle.” Matthew’s irritated voice sounded next to her, pulling her from her reflections.

Van turned to him, grateful for his interruption.


You need to be appropriate when you meet your husband. Come to think of it,” he said staring at Damien. “You just need to be in a carriage, not on that beast.”

Van grinned lopsidedly, patted Damien on his heavily-muscled neck and looked up at her father. She opened her mouth to dispute him but Amy’s soft voice stopped her.


Mi
lady
, your father is correct. No matter what your feelings are, you need to make a good first impression if you plan for any of this to work.”

Matthew looked closely from Van to Amy. Van turned and glowered at the young girl, but held her tongue. After all, Amy was right. If she was going to pull off this charade—and she had to in order to keep her secret—it had to be convincing.

Van turned to her father and conceded that once they arrived at his estate they would take a carriage, with Damien hitched to the rear of it.

Matthew smiled and nodded his head. “Good.” His grin widened. “You can meet my sons and their mother as soon as they return from their visit with her parents.”

Van’s breath hitched at the thought of his sons, the sons he had always wanted, the son that she was supposed to be. Anger boiled beneath the calm façade that she held before her like a shield. The anger didn’t surprise her, but the twinge of jealousy that accompanied it, did.

It was more than jealousy. She admitted, though reluctantly, it was envy. Envy of a life she had secretly dreamed of as a small child. To be the son of a rich lord, to not have to fight for everything she had accomplished.

She pushed away the lost dreams and the envy. She focused instead on the anger, the deep, painful thudding of her heart, and the memory of how good her life had been, despite all the tribulations.

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