For today, in one, fell swoop, he’d managed to gather all of the sadness and pain Elise had worked so diligently to abandon, and he’d poured it right back into the clear blue innocence of her eyes.
Chapter 12
Catherine watched him go, too stunned at first to say a word. But then something snapped inside of her, and she lunged forward, racing to catch up with him as she called, “Gray, wait!Please!”
He slowed and finally stopped, but he wouldn’t look at her. She felt his muscles clench beneath her palm as she grabbed his arm, tugging him around to face her.
Several villagers and knights who stood nearby struggled not to gape at the strange sight of their lady accosting their lord in public, but Catherine paid no heed. All that mattered right now was making Gray understand that his past meant nothing to her. That it was the man he’d become in the days since his tragedy that made her feel truly happy.
That made her feel loved.
She gripped his arms and looked up at him, trying to make him understand. “I don’t care what you did, Gray, or didn’t do, when you were a boy. Aye, I ache for the loss of your sister and the pain it must have caused you, but I don’t blame you for her death. No one could. Her murder was a horrible deed committed by an evil man who abused women as a way of life. The fault of Gillian’s death lies with him, not with you!”
“’Tis in your nature to be generous,” he said, finally meeting her gaze. “That is why ’tis hard for you to believe that I bear fault in this, Elise. And in truth, these past weeks with you, I’ve felt…”
He stopped and looked away, seeming to subdue his emotions by force before he was able to bring his gaze back to hers. “As much as I’d like to, I cannot change reality. I must accept the fact that I almost allowed myself to forget my part in Gillian’s death.”
“But—”
“Nay, lady,” he said, touching his finger gently to her lips. “Let me finish. Every hour I continue to breathe must be lived to make up for her loss. I vowed that long ago. ’Tis why I never let anything cloud my mind again, be it drink or remedy. ’Tis why I must continue to fight whenever possible as the king’s champion.”
“But how can that honor Gillian’s memory?”
He paused, and she sensed his withdrawal from her, though he didn’t move in a physical sense. “I must curry favor with King Henry,” he continued quietly, “so that he will continue to grant me lands and appoint me to positions of power. Positions like Sheriff of Cheltenham. Only then will I be able to see justice done for others in a way that was denied me. This I vowed on the day that Gillian died, no matter what the personal cost to me, no matter what the pain. I cannot be deterred or distracted from that goal. I cannot forsake it lest I fail Gillian, and myself, again.”
He spoke as if he’d uttered that statement many times before. As if he struggled to remind himself again now of its importance above all else in his life.
A horrible thought took hold of Catherine. She stood facing him, feeling the warmth of his skin under her hand, sensing the powerful play of muscle beneath her fingertips, remembering their lovemaking near the willow field. And understanding struck her with the force of a gale wind, sucking the life from her with its impact.
She’d never considered their marriage from any other point of view but her own. Not until now.
Whatever the cost, whatever the pain…?
“Sweet Jesu, our union was forced upon you, wasn’t it, Gray?” she whispered. “And you endured it, joining yourself to a woman you knew you would hate. Someone whose very presence couldn’t help but remind you of your enemy and your sins every time you looked at her…”
She tried to see into his eyes, needing to read the truth in the one place he couldn’t hide it. She stood on tiptoe, shifting until he could avoid her gaze no longer, and recoiling with almost physical pain when she saw her answer there.
“I’ll not lie to you,” he answered, raggedly. “It was like that at the start. But not now. It hasn’t been so for—” He broke off and clenched his jaw, emotions full in his eyes.
Then he shook his head and seemed to become almost angry, shaking her hands off of him to grip her arms fiercely with his own. “Damn it, don’t you understand? I can’t allow myself to feel like this about you. I can’t let anything cloud my direction or get in the way. Not now. Not ever.” He let his hands drop from her arms as he looked away. “Gilbert de Clare’s accusations today reminded me of that. ’Tis the way it must be.”
“Nay. You only make it so by believing it. If you would just—”
“’Tis not just belief. ’Tis the truth that makes me stay this course—the only truth I’ve known for years.”
The truth. Catherine’s stomach clenched and she felt like screaming aloud. If only he knew the complete and horrible truth. The truth about her lies and her identity. She wanted to tell him right now. She wanted to blurt it out and the rest be damned, but Gray’s next words stopped her as cold as if he’d shot an arrow through her heart.
“I have to leave, Elise. Alban brought a message from King Henry, ordering me to ride immediately to Cheltenham. I’m to take part in a grand assize there to judge a land dispute between a powerful abbot and a prior, both vital for their support to the Crown.”
“What?” Terror shot through her, masking all else for the moment. “But you can’t go now! Please—you must wait a little longer, so that I can—”
“I can’t stay,” he broke in. “’Tis the king’s wish that I settle this problem without delay, and I’ll not risk my appointment to Sheriff by ignoring his command.”
She wanted to say something, anything, to make him stop what he was doing, but she couldn’t get past the grim purpose in his eyes. He looked away. “I’ll return as soon as I can.” Without meeting her gaze again, he stalked away toward his men, who stood clustered, awaiting him by their steeds. She heard him give the order to mount up, saw him swing astride his stallion…
Taking two running steps forward, she started to call out for him. She felt him slipping away, and she wanted to make him stop, even if it meant shrieking out the secret that had been bottled up inside of her for all of these weeks, gnawing at her insides. But the words lodged in her throat.
She swung her head, gazing around in desperation; a hundred eyes of villagers, knights, villeins, and lasses seemed to stare back at her. Curse his soul, but Eduard had done his work well. She imagined suspicion in every gaze. Sly awareness. They were like vipers waiting to strike and destroy her.
