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With a sigh, Rhun sat on the chair by the hearth.

“The ambush that day back in April was a disaster. Either some traitor had warned the English of our plans or by an extraordinary stroke of luck, they heard us in time to give themselves a fighting chance. Either way, we happened upon a column of men with their swords already drawn and their shields locked together. It was an impenetrable wall. We wasted our energy and weapons trying to get through and once we had been rendered almost helpless, the enemy retaliated. It was a massacre.”

It would have been. But it was hard to sympathize as no one had forced the Welshmen to ambush the retinue. Cadell would have understood a group of men defending their homes and their families. He wasn’t sure he could side with men who attacked people who had not provoked them.

“Ioan was the only one who was able to escape unscathed. When he saw that all was lost, he fled to the woods to warn the others that we might have a traitor in our midst. He came back as night was falling, and found me under a pile of bodies, dead by all accounts. But I was still breathing, even though I had sustained heavy injuries, which must have convinced our attackers I had died as well. Ioan brought me to a nearby farm and saved my life, even if he had to cut my arm at the elbow, as it had become infected.”

Indeed, Cadell had seen the empty sleeve on the left side of Rhun’s body but, too shocked by the man’s reappearance, had not allowed himself to think about the reason behind such a loss.

“It took me weeks to recover. When we finally understood that I was not going to die, I was faced with a choice. During the skirmish, the English had found out who I was, which was what we had tried to avoid all along. But, luckily, they were convinced that I had died in the ambush. Ioan and I agreed it was best to let them believe I was no longer a threat. That way they would not look for me or use anyone to lure me out of my hiding place.”

Yes. A foolproof plan. Except for one thing.

By faking his death, he had allowed his own wife to believe she was a widow, with all that it implied.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The fact that Johanna’s husband was still alive was the one obstacle he could not overcome. Her attack of nerves, he could have kissed away. Her lingering scruples about her suitability as a wife, he could have silenced. Her husband, on the other hand… A husband was the one thing he could not wish away, no matter how hard he tried.

How could Rhun have done that to Johanna? How could he have married her, all the while knowing she would never be accepted by people who had been chosen for their hatred of all things English? Knowing that someone else was ready to offer her marriage? Knowing that he, with his involvement in the Welsh Cause, would never be able to be a proper husband?

But the answer was not so hard to find. Rhun had desired to have the beautiful woman in his bed, as any man would, and he’d done the only thing that would ensure he could enjoy her favors. Make her his wife. Then, after a few years, once his lust had been slaked, he had gone back to his true vocation, leaving her to deal with the pain of the loss of her child and her husband’s rejection. Allowing her to believe herself a widow. Letting her manage Bryn Glas and its hostile people. Making her believe she could have a second chance at a happy marriage. Resurfacing at the worst possible moment.

“You bastard!” Cadell did not bother to keep the anger from his voice. “You abandoned your wife without a word of warning, you allowed her to believe you dead, you force her to fend for herself. You placed her in danger. You broke her heart.”

This was unforgivable.

And now, as if it were not enough, he had also ruined his life.

For some reason, Rhun slipped back to Welsh when he answered. He’d always found it galling to speak the invaders tongue and his accent was very strong, but he’d had no choice but to use it to talk to his wife earlier.

“Alas, I realized too late that marriage was not the path for me and I should never have married Johanna. But I always respected her and⁠—”

“If that is the case, you could start by speaking in a language she understands when in her presence!” Cadell snapped back, keeping to English.

“You’re right,” Rhun conceded, turning to Johanna, his legally wedded wife. He took her hands in his good one. If Cadell had been disposed to fairness—which he was not, considering that his own heart was breaking—he would have thought the man genuinely contrite. “I’m sorry, I should have thought of you, not of my selfish craving for you. I wanted you as soon as I saw you, and I refused to deny myself the pleasure of having you in my bed. I should have taken you as a lover and left you to then choose a husband who could make you happy and give you the attention you deserved.”

Cadell wished Rhun had kept that declaration to himself because every word would be a dagger to Johanna’s heart. She had known that her husband’s heart had never been in this union, that she had always come second in his life, she had told him as much. But to hear that he had only married her so he could bed her, all the while knowing another man was in love with her, hear him assume that she would have agreed to be his mistress, would be awful for her.

It was awful for him.

“I loved you,” she said on a sob.

There was so much regret, so much emotion in that declaration that Cadell almost ran to her and gathered her up in his arms. Then he remembered she was no longer his. Had never truly been. She belonged to her husband, the one who was holding her now. How could Rhun have caused her such humiliation, such pain? He really was a bastard and an appalling husband, for all he was a brave fighter and loyal Welshman.

“I know. And I loved you, in my own way. I still do. Only… It was not my destiny to be a good husband.”

“Then you should have left her to people who actually wanted to offer her the happiness she deserves!” Cadell snarled, unable to stop himself.

He thought that Rhun would take issue with this, possibly launch himself at him, but he only nodded. “I should have. I see that now. But what is done is done.”

Yes, and that was the terrible thing. There would be no changing a situation that made three people unhappy. All the anger left Cadell at the realization. Indeed what was done was done. Johanna was still married to a man who could not give her what she needed and she would never be his.

His brother, Siaspar, had been able to annul his union to an Englishwoman he despised and who had tried to kill him. As a result, he had been able to marry the woman he loved. But this was different. There was no solution. Rhun and Johanna could not claim non-consummation, constraint or consanguinity to free themselves from this marriage. They were well and truly married, until death—real, this time—did them part.

“What do you intend to do?” he asked eventually.

Rhun had said he didn’t want anyone to know he was back and had only intervened to prevent Johanna from doing something that would place her soul into mortal danger. This meant that he would carry on playing dead to avoid retaliation from the English. It made sense, but what did that mean for Johanna? Would she have to carry on playing the role of the widow without ever being able to remarry?