Brandt thundered into the bailey alongside Dylan and with two other horses following close behind. The first thing he saw as he rode into the bailey was his wife’s carriage near the motte, which both surprised and concerned him. The doors were open and as he drew closer through the crowds of men, he could see two of the female servants near the coach and baggage on the ground. Then, he saw his wife.
Clad in a rich wool surcoat of mustard yellow and wearing a deep blue cloak, she looked magnificent. He allowed himself a moment simply to gaze upon her because she really hadn’t spoken to him since that day she accused him of loving warfare more than he loved her. He had wrestled with her statement for a full day until that morning when he decided to do something about it.
He’d gone to see Lady Catteshall because he knew she could help him. He’d been rather excited to return to Guildford and let Ellowyn in on his decision, but the longer he gazed at her, themore he began to realize that something was amiss. The baggage near the carriage was hers and she had absolutely no interest in making eye contact with him. Spurring his charger through the crowds, he roared up to the coach.
Ellowyn was hit by flying pebbles when Brandt’s steed came to a clumsy halt. Grunting with annoyance, she brushed a few flecks of dirt off her cloak as she turned towards the offender. Realizing it was her husband, she stiffened when their eyes met before swiftly turning away.
“What is all of this?” Brandt demanded as he dismounted his sweaty steed. When his wife kept her back turned to him, he grew irritated. “Ellowyn, I am addressing you. What is all of this?”
She turned to him, a look of defiance and stubbornness on her face. “I am returning to Erith as I said I would,” she told him coldly. “I will find my own escort so you do not have to trouble yourself.”
He just stared at her. Nearly two days of her surly, somber attitude and bouts with the silent treatment had his emotions surging. He was frustrated and he was angry. More than that, he was hurt. He’d never been hurt before. Reaching out, he snatched her by the hand.
“You are coming with me,” he growled.
Ellowyn immediately started to fight him. “Let me go,” she demanded, trying to pull away. “I am not going anywhere with you.”
Brandt didn’t want to hurt her. Her injury was still paining her and he didn’t want to cause her any more agony, but he was genuinely furious. He swooped down on her and picked her up.
“This will end now,” he rumbled.
He carried Ellowyn, kicking and struggling, all the way up to the keep. She beat her hands against his plate armor, demanding he put her down, but he wouldn’t listen to her. By the time he gother into the keep, she had torn her surcoat in her struggles and her carefully braided hair was unraveling. He set her on her feet when they reached his solar.
Ellowyn twisted her way from his grip as he tried to put her down and ended up straining her injured torso. She hissed in pain, pressing a hand against the wound as she staggered away from him.
“What is the matter with you?” she demanded. “How dare you handle me like a common wench!”
He stood by the entry to make sure she couldn’t escape. “How dare you behave like one,” he fired back quietly. “You are the Duchess of Exeter. Your recent behavior does not suit that position.”
Ellowyn scowled. “I do not know what you mean,” she said. “You told me I could return home. I am doing that.”
He faced her, hands on hips, jaw ticking. “Wynny, I am not entirely sure how the mood between us has deteriorated so, but it will end now,” he said, struggling to calm. “I do not like it when you ignore me. I realize the past few days have been disruptive to say the least, but you are taking all of your frustration out on me. Is that fair?”
Ellowyn’s features relaxed, somewhat, as she considered the question. After a moment, she appeared to deflate. Her gaze lowered. Then, she turned away from him, hand resting gingerly on her injured torso.
“You are going to France,” she said with a shrug. “You said yourself that I should go back to Erith.”
“Iaskedyou if you wanted to return to be with your mother and grandmother,” he said. “I never told you to return to Erith. Furthermore, while you have been stomping around like a petulant child and ignoring me at every turn, I have been busy making arrangements for my return to France, the plans of which now include you.”
It took her a moment for his words to sink in. When they did, she whirled to face him, eyes wide with astonishment.
“Me?” she gasped. “I am going with you?”
He put his hands on his hips. “I should just as well leave you here for all of the tantrums you have exhibited over the past few days.”
She could see that his irritation was real. His mood tempered her joy with uncertainty. “Then why did you decide to bring me?”
He lost some of his irritation. “Because… oh, hell, I suppose it is because your words the other day meant something to me,” he said. “You must understand that until recently, all I knew was war. It is in my blood. But somehow, someway, you are in my blood now, too. You have shown me a life I never knew existed, Wynny. You are my wife and you are the most important thing in the world to me. When I return to France, it is because I said I would. It is not because my heart is in it. That particular part of me seems to belong to you.”
All of Ellowyn’s hurt and anger evaporated and she smiled at his sweet confession. “I am sorry if it seemed as if I was being difficult,” she said softly. Then she shrugged awkwardly. “You said you were leaving and all I could think was that I would never see you again. Everything we have now, between us, would be gone forever. I started to think on my father’s words, of how I would always be second in your life behind Prince Edward, and I was deeply hurt by it. Mayhap… mayhap ignoring you was a way of saving my heart. It is so fragile where you are concerned.”
He sighed heavily, his eyes raking over her lovely face. “Being ignored by you for two days has hurt my heart deeply,” he said softly. “I wonder what you will do to make it up to me?”
It was an invitation and a peace offering. Ellowyn didn’t hesitate. She moved to him, putting her arms around his neck as he swallowed her into his enormous embrace. Feeling him in herarms, alive and vibrant, brought her relief and joy. She shoved her face into the crook of his neck, smelling him and feeling the texture of his skin against hers. It was heavenly.
“I will do whatever you wish,” she whispered, squeezing him. “Thank you for taking me with you, Brandt. I swear I will be no trouble at all.”
He kissed her, hard, because he hadn’t kissed her in two days and he found he was fairly starving to taste her. His big hands stroked her face, her hair.
