All skill-learning aside, they were having the time of their lives. Cynethryn was actually much more adept at riding her pony than Brencis was, who didn’t quite have the coordination and grace that her sister did. While William, who had forgiven Trenton enough for his humiliation that he was now participating in the pony training, remained with Brencis so the little girl wouldn’t fall off again, Trenton set up a very small barrier and started jumping Cynethryn over it.
For Trenton, it had been bonding time to spend with the little girl who had been quite sullen and standoffish when they’d first met. Since the day he’d purchased the pony for her, he’d watched the child come out of her shell. She was still rather serious at times, but she laughed and talked with him now, whereas before, she wouldn’t. Trenton was coming to think she was simply a serious child in general, but at least now there was a smile on her face from time to time. And she was quite proud of learning how to jump her pony over the little barrier, a pride that grew as Trenton praised her.
“Trenton,” William said as he tended to Brencis. “What say that you and I put up some larger barriers and jump our horses over them? Let us see who can jump the highest.”
Trenton rolled his eyes. “Is everything a contest with you?” he asked. “First the swords, now this. Are you eager to be beaten again, Willie?”
William laughed. “I have three older brothers,” he said. “We are Wellesbournes. Competing with each other for domination is simply something we do. Ask my father.”
Trenton shook his head. “I have never seen your father demand that his sons compete against each other.”
“He does not. In fact, he discourages us. But there is something inside of us that begs us to triumph over one another. Call it the victory spirit!”
“I call it exhausting.”
“Then you will not pit your horse against mine? Afraid you might lose?”
Trenton cast him a wry expression. “My horse is not built for jumping,” he said. “I would not force him to do it. Besides, if that is the only way you can assert dominance over me, then go ahead. I will simply give you the victory.”
“You hurt my feelings, depriving me of my chance to beat you fairly.”
Trenton faced him, balled fists on his hips. “I am going to hurt your body if you do not stop harassing me,” he said. “Go, now. Pay attention to your niece before she falls off and breaks something. And if that happens, know my retribution shall be swift.”
William simply grinned at him, that cheeky gesture that prevented Trenton from truly becoming angry with him, and returned his attention to Brencis. Trenton turned back to Cynethryn, who had stopped her pony and was looking at the pony’s feet. Trenton went to her.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
Cynethryn climbed down from her pony all by herself and crouched down, looking at the pony’s legs. “I think she is hurt.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because she limps.”
Trenton took the pony by the reins and walked her in a circle to see if he could verify Cynethryn’s observations. As soon as the pony started to move, he could see a definitive limp and he pulled the pony to a halt, crouching down beside it and running a practiced hand over the legs. Cynethryn stood next to him, greatly concerned.
“Is she hurt?” she asked. “Did I hurt my pony?”
Trenton could feel a slightly swollen tendon in the right front leg. “She is not used to being ridden so much,” he said. “Her leg is injured, but not badly. She will need to rest it for a few days.”
Cynethryn’s face fell as she went to pet her pony. “I did not mean to hurt her.”
Trenton could see how upset she was. “You did not,” he said kindly. “She simply needs to become accustomed to being ridden again. She will rest and then you will take her out again when she is well, and it should build up her strength.”
Cynethryn nodded, watching her sister as she trotted by on her fat, white pony. “We should take her back to the stable,” she said sadly. “What shall we do for her leg?”
Trenton, with his well-controlled emotions, was having a difficult time not feeling great sympathy for the little girl whose out-of-shape pony had sprained a fetlock. He wasn’t used to showing compassion, in any form, but the introduction of Cynethryn and Brencis, not to mention Lysabel, had tugged at those usually-tight emotions so that they were spilling out all over the place. That heart of his, usually so hard, had numerous cracks in it now that were only growing deeper and wider. Handing the reins over to the child, he started to head for the stable.
“Not to worry, sweetling,” he said quietly. “I will help you tend your pony and while she is mending, we will find you another pony to ride. Would that make you happy?”
Cynethryn looked at him in surprise. “You… you would?”
“Of course,” he said. “Come along, now. Let’s fix your pony.”
Cynethryn was looking at him the same way she had when he’d first bought her the pony – incredulous that a man should go out of his way to be kind to her. She nodded and took her pony’s reins, pulling the animal along.
“You… you are certain she will be well again?” she asked him.
He nodded. “I am certain.”
“I will not lose her?”
He looked at her, feeling his heart tug, just a little more. He could hear the fear of uncertainty in her voice, probably the same uncertainty she’d suffered from her entire life. An unpredictable and violent father had seen to that. He could only imagine how little joy the girl had been given in life, and now that she found it, she was terrified to lose it.
“You will not lose her,” he said. “I promise.”
That seemed to ease Cynethryn considerably. She wanted to trust him and he was slowly building that trust. As the pair resumed their walk towards the stables, Trenton heard someone call his name.
Pausing, he turned to see Matthew heading in his direction. The man had to pass by Brencis and William, and he paused a moment to say a few words to Brencis, which left her smiling. Matthew continued on, his gaze moving between Cynethryn and Trenton.
“What?” he said. “Is it time for the pony ride to be over already?”
Trenton pointed to the front right leg of the animal. “I am afraid there has been too much activity for Cinny’s pony,” he said. “Her leg is a little swollen. Nothing a few days of rest won’t cure.”
Matthew bent over the pony, feeling up both front legs as Trenton had done. “Ah,” he said as he felt the slight bump in the right fetlock. “I see. Certainly nothing that cannot be healed.”
Now that her grandfather had said the same thing Trenton had, Cynethryn was feeling much better. “Will you help, Grandfather?” she asked.
Matthew nodded. “Of course I will,” he said. “Take the pony into the stable and tell the stable master than you must have a poultice for your pony. He will know what to do. I must speak with Trenton for a moment, but I will be there shortly.”
Happy, Cynethryn led her pony over towards the stables. When she was out of earshot, Matthew turned to Trenton.
“Do you have a moment for me?” he asked. “I wish to speak with you.”
Trenton nodded. “Of course, my lord,” he said. “Would you like to speak here or someplace more private?”
Matthew looked around. “There is no one nearby, save Willie,” he said. “And I can keep an eye on him should he come too close. What I have to say to you is not for his ears.”
“My lord?”
Matthew looked at him, fixing him in the eye. He came right to the point. “Lys came to see me,” he said. “She tells me that you and she wish to have a life together.”
Trenton didn’t change his expression but, inside, he was starting to tense up. He could just see by Matthew’s expression what the man thought about everything.
It wasn’t good.
Trenton and Lysabel had spent the past two days avoiding speaking on the very subject that Matthew had now broached. Trenton
had told her that he would await her decision on the matter, so he didn’t want to pressure her, but he also knew that, at some point, she would speak to Matthew. She had told him she would.
Therefore, he wasn’t particularly surprised by Matthew’s words, but he did brace himself for the man’s reaction. He was prepared for an argument, or worse. The past few days had taught him a good deal about what he felt for Lysabel, and it was something beyond mere attraction.
He realized it was love.
In that respect, he, too, had a good deal to say to Matthew.
“Are you sure you would not like to speak of this someplace more private?” Trenton said.
Matthew shook his head. “If we are out here for all to see, I cannot lose my temper and neither can you,” he said. “This is the perfect place.”
Trenton nodded shortly. “Very well,” he said. “I am prepared to answer any questions you may have.”
Matthew paused, his expression bordering on displeased but he was trying to keep himself from sinking into that pit. He was trying to stay rational.
“Questions,” he muttered. “I have many questions, in fact. Is it true you want my daughter to become your mistress?”
Trenton hesitated. “That is not a term I would use for Lysabel.”
“Oh?” Matthew said with a hint of sarcasm. “Then what would you call her? A courtesan? A concubine? Trenton, I am trying very hard to be understanding here but, unfortunately, my daughter is involved and I cannot be unbiased about this. Just what, exactly, do you have in mind for my daughter?”
The conversation was off to a rocky start and Trenton was starting to feel scolded. “My lord, you know I am married,” he said. “You also know I am married to a woman of my father’s choosing, a woman who cannot stand the sight of me. All she wanted was the de Russe money and titles. She lives at Penleigh Manor and entertains her Breton friends and, I would suspect, lovers if she has a mind to. She views our marriage as a prison, something keeping her trapped, and she makes no secret of her disrespect for it.”
Matthew threw up his hand to prevent him from explaining himself further. “And?” he said, trying not to snap. “You seek solace with my daughter?”
“I have fallen in love with your daughter.”
That brought Matthew to an instant halt. He stared at Trenton a moment before letting out a hissing sigh, closing his eyes as if to ward off those very words.
I am in love with your daughter.
The situation just got more complicated.
“Christ,” he muttered. “Trenton, this cannot be. You cannot love her.”
“Why not? You do.”
Matthew’s head snapped to him. “Because I am her father,” he said. “You do not have the same attachment to her that I do.”
Trenton shrugged. “That does not mean I cannot love her,” he said. “Your daughter is a strong, wise, and beautiful woman. How can I not fall in love with those qualities?”
Matthew’s jaw tightened. As the seconds ticked away, the more rage and despair he was feeling. Reaching out, he grabbed Trenton by the arm.
“I want you to listen to me and listen well,” he rumbled. “You and my daughter are not love-struck children. You are adults, and you know how the world works. Trenton, I know you have a horrible marriage, but just because you have been unlucky in your relationships, do not condemn Lysabel to the same. She’s already suffered through the indignities of Benoit, and now you want her to suffer through the indignities of becoming your whore? And what of Cissy and Cinny? What are you condemning them to? Do you know what people will say? They will call them the children of that mistress, the one who lives openly with the Earl of Westbury. They will accuse my daughter of terrible morals and assume her daughters have the same, so when it comes time for them to marry, not a decent family in England will have them. Is that what you wish for them?”
Trenton had stiffened during the course of Matthew’s speech and now stood gazing at the man with a taut expression and ticking jaw. Nothing Matthew said was untrue and he knew that, but to hear it laid out so brutally was difficult for him to swallow. But, still, he held his ground, ground that for all of his tenacity, he could feel slipping away.
All of this was slipping away.
God, please don’t let it slip away!
“Of course I do not,” he said. “And their mother’s lover will be the Duke of Warminster, a prestigious position. I will command the finest husbands for both girls.”
Matthew shook his head, exasperated. “You are not thinking clearly, Trenton,” he said. “Think with your mind, not your heart. I think it is better for her to be the wife of a lowly knight than the concubine of a duke.”
“And I do not.”
“At least marriage will make her honorable, which is something she will not have should she be your kept woman.”
Trenton’s brow furrowed. “You make it sound so dirty, as if I only want her for a possession,” he said. “I told you that I love her and I meant it. Why is it wrong for me to want to be with her?”
“It is not wrong,” he said. “Except that you have a wife. Whether or not your father forced you into marriage is not the issue. The issue is that you are married, whether or not you want to be. You are living in a world of make-believe if you think you can take Lysabel as your concubine and no one will judge either of you for it.”
Trenton was growing increasingly distressed. “I know people will judge,” he said. “They judge me even now. You judge me even now. That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? You share my father’s prejudice against me.”
Matthew dropped his hand from Trenton’s arm. He wasn’t going to lie to the man’s face about it.
“It is true that your duties for the king are not something I would do,” he said. “That does not mean I judge you for it, but you are correct in stating that I do not want an assassin for my daughter. Even if it is you.”
Trenton lifted a dark eyebrow. “I fully intend to resign my post,” he said. “I have other properties I can retire to. I will take Lysabel and the girls, and we shall live there in happiness and love. That is something none of us has ever known.”
“But they will eventually,” Matthew stressed. “They will know the happiness of a family, and with a man who can be a husband and father to them. You cannot be either of those.”
In that statement, Trenton saw an opportunity to press his case even more. Matthew was bringing up another man, any man, who would be both a husband and father to Lysabel and her girls. It was a faceless, nameless man who threatened everything Trenton wanted.
But it wouldn’t just be the three of them at some point; soon, there would be a fourth.
“Any man you find for Lysabel and the girls will be taking on an instant family,” Trenton said. “Lysabel is pregnant; did you know that? The night I killed Benoit was the night her child was conceived. It was conceived in the most brutal way possible. I am more than willing to overlook her pregnancy. I do not care in the least and I will love that child as if it were my very own. Do you really think you can find a decent man to take Lysabel, her two girls, and an infant? It is not as if she doesn’t come with great wealth or titles, you know. She has much to offer, but to a discerning man, her liabilities will outweigh her assets and any other man will simply be desperate for what she has to offer. Is that what you want? Another Benoit who is just looking for an opportunity to dig his claws into the Wellesbourne name?”
Matthew looked at him in shock as he finished what was a rather strong tirade. Lysabel hadn’t told him of the child in her belly and he was not only feeling foolish about it, he was feeling a great deal of astonishment. What Trenton said wasn’t unreasonable; a woman and two small girls was one thing, but now with the added burden of an infant, it would be increasingly difficult to find her a desirable husband. Most men simply weren’t that accepting, and it would be far worse if that baby was a girl. A son, a man could assume as his own, but three girls…
It complicated the s
ituation.
Still, Matthew couldn’t give in to Trenton’s argument.
“Pregnancy or no pregnancy, it does not change the situation,” he said. “Trenton, listen to me. If you love Lysabel as you say you do, then you will not want to condemn her to a world of shame. Of course she has fallen for you; you saved her from Benoit. It is natural that she feels something for you. But when the shock of Benoit’s passing fades away, she will realize that she jumped from one bad situation to another if she goes with you. As her father, I must protect her. Even from you.”
Trenton could see that Matthew was coming to the heart of his opinion on the situation and Trenton could feel everything slipping away from him faster than before. Even the pregnancy revelation hadn’t swayed the man. And if that didn’t do it, nothing would.
He could feel his heart beginning to pound.
“Then what are you saying?” he finally asked. “Are you telling me that there is nothing I can say to change your mind?”
Matthew was firm, but there was sorrow in his eyes as he spoke. This wasn’t any easier for him than it was for Trenton, but he had to do what he felt was right.
“Nay, there is nothing you can say,” he said quietly. “I am asking you to leave, Trenton. I want you to go. Lysabel deserves better than what you are offering her, and I want you to leave and never come back to Wellesbourne as long as she is here. If you do not leave voluntarily, I will have you escorted out.”
Trenton knew he would, too. Rather than rise to the man’s threat, he did something he’d never done before – he began to plead.
“Please do not ask me to do that,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I do not want to leave her or the girls. I love them, Uncle Matthew. I cannot leave behind something I love.”