“Nay,” he said. “I did not know she’d married Munstone until my father told me this evening.”
“Yet you did not tell me,” she said. “Just like you did not tell me about Gruffydd. What else have you not told me, Curtis?”
Suddenly, he could see trouble. There was a trust issue now, and the realization cut him to the bone. “Nothing, I swear it,” he said. “I did not tell you about Gruffydd because I needed you tofind some peace with him for the sake of our alliance and for no other reason. If you knew he was coming, I feared it would have clouded your entire evening, and I wanted you to look forward to it. As for Larue, it simply did not occur to me. Had she behaved herself, there would have been no issue, but given what I know about her, I should have anticipated trouble. That is my failing, and I apologize for it.”
Elle didn’t answer right away. He thought she had fallen asleep, and he’d stood up to bolt the door and prepare for bed when she spoke softly.
“Now, that entire group knows our most private secrets,” she muttered. “They knowmyprivate secrets. They know I was not a virgin when you married me. They know I am a widow who fought alongside Welsh rebels. But they will never fully believe you when you told them I was not a whore. They will always think terribly of me.”
He looked at her. “That’s not true.”
“It is.”
“Then what do you want me to do?” he asked in a tone bordering on pleading. “Do you want me to go back to the hall and speak to each one of them? I will if you want me to.”
Her eyes suddenly opened, and she sat up in bed. “And tell them more intimate details of me?” she said. “Of course not. The less they know about me, the better. Your family has been warm and wonderful, Curtis, but your allies are exactly as I imagined the English to be. Petty, nasty, and vile. Do not give them any more information on me. I do not care what they think. But you should have told me about Gruffydd, and you should have told me about Larue. It makes me wonder what else you’ve withheld from me in spite of your denials.”
He went to stand in front of her. “I do not lie,” he said, his voice low. “I will swear to you that there is nothing else I’ve nottold you. If you do not believe that, then we do indeed have a problem.”
She eyed him before lying back down and closing her eyes. “Please leave me alone,” she said. “I want to sleep, and I want to do it alone. Go back to your family, Curtis. They’ve come a long way to see you, so you must not ruin their evening. But I will not go back into the hall as long as your allies are there.”
“I do not blame you,” he said. “But know this—I love you, Ellie. With all that I am, I love you. If I could have prevented what happened tonight, had I known it was coming, then I would have stopped it. I will defend you to the death. I hope you know that.”
The tears began to trickle out of her eyes again. “I know you love me,” she whispered. “I love you also. But love didn’t stop the hurt and humiliation. It didn’t stop you from withholding information from me. I had a right to know what I was facing tonight, and you took that away from me. You left me vulnerable and then tried to protect me after the fact. All I know is that I would have never done such a thing to you.”
Curtis felt as if he’d been hit in the gut. He felt desperation as he’d never felt in his life. She was hurt and she was withdrawing, and the last thing he wanted was for her to return to the woman she was when he met her… guarded and suspicious. Had something been damaged tonight that could not be repaired?
It made him sick to think about it.
A soft knock at the door caught his attention, and he went to open it. He pulled back the panel to reveal Melusine, who was looking at him anxiously.
“I came to see if I could help,” she said softly. “Is Ellie well?”
Curtis looked over to the bed where Elle was huddled up. “I do not know,” he said honestly. “But I think she would rather not have me here right now, so do come in. At least someone will be with her if she needs something.”
Puzzled, Melusine came in while Curtis went out. As he headed down the stairs, she closed the door and threw the bolt, moving toward the bed with hesitation. She peered at her cousin with great concern.
“Elle?” she said timidly. “What did he mean by that?”
Elle’s response was to burst into gut-busting sobs.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
From what he’dheard, the feast had been interesting, to say the least.
The morning after what was supposed to be Curtis’ triumph, all anyone could speak of was how he had berated one of his allies when the man’s wife spread vicious gossip about Curtis’ new Welsh wife. Something about her being a whore and having illegitimate children, or stealing an old man’s wealth when he died. There seemed to be a few versions. The rumors were flying fast and furious, even though Curtis had set his friends and family straight the night before. He’d been in a rage for the rest of the night, becoming blindingly drunk and then trying to fist-fight men who attempted to calm him down. Rumor had it that he actually hit his brother, Myles, right in the face, and the man was sporting a lovely black eye this morning as a result. Whatever the truths were, it sounded like quite an eventful party.
And one that had not accomplished what Curtis had hoped.
Even now, as Amaro hung around the kitchens, carrying wood and pretending to repair broken kitchen implements, he could hear the servants whispering about theterribilis vesperum—the terrible evening. Most of the lesser warlords hadalready left by the time the sun rose, including the Munstone party. The rumor was that Lady Munstone was Curtis’ former lover, and she was the one who had started the trouble. True or not, the party left very quickly as the sun appeared over the horizon, escorted out by several de Lohr soldiers.
Amaro had a grin on his face. He simply couldn’t help it at the thought of Curtis’ failure. He was becoming more and more entrenched in the kitchens and stables of Brython, mostly because they didn’t seem too particular about their help, and also because he was in far less danger of being noticed because he’d stopped shaving and his beard was growing in, red and bushy. He’d smeared a layer of dirt on himself to further conceal his identity, so he wasn’t particularly worried about being recognized any longer.
But he was still lying low, as much as he could.
Since his arrival yesterday, he’d seen Lady Leominster once as she came out of the keep with Dustin de Lohr at her side. She didn’t look at all like the lady he remembered—the skinny, dirty woman who hissed like an angry cat. Two months of being married to Curtis had seen her cleaned up and fattened up and dressed in finery, so she really was quite beautiful when properly adorned and washed. But that was the only time Amaro had seen her, though he’d been told she tended to spend time in the kitchen and yard, helping her cousin. Amaro had seen Miasma, the only name he remembered her by, but he didn’t care much about her.
He only cared about Lady Leominster.
