Reclaimed by Her Rebel Knight

‘Only a traitor would say so.’

Constance looked nervously between father and son as the elder finally let go of her hand. She couldn’t help but think of a pair of bulls locking horns. Considering what Matthew had told her about not insulting the King in front of his father, he was coming dangerously close to doing it himself. Despite his warning about their relationship, it wasn’t exactly the reunion she’d expected. On the contrary, it was downright hostile, the atmosphere between them thick enough to cut with a knife.

She glanced towards a giant broadsword hanging above the fireplace and shuddered. That ought to do it.

‘Matthew?’

To her immense relief, a new voice emerged from the shadows suddenly, closely followed by its owner. The man was around her own age with a slight build, pale face and dark curls that tumbled over his forehead and into his eyes as if he were trying to hide from the world.

‘Welcome home.’

‘Alan?’ Matthew’s manner altered at once, his combativeness falling away and his expression turning to one of eagerness. He started forward with a smile and then stopped as if constrained by something in the younger man’s face. ‘It’s good to see you, Brother.’ His voice sounded formal again. ‘You’re all grown up.’

‘That tends to happen after five years.’

For a confusing moment, Constance felt as though they were replaying the scene from her aunt’s solar two days before when Matthew had said that she’d changed and she’d retorted just as brusquely. There was the same heavy atmosphere of resentment and bitterness, as if she wasn’t the only one who’d been angry at him for leaving. Here was the younger brother Matthew had told her about and yet his greeting was almost as cold as their father’s. At least with Sir Ralph there was some family resemblance, however. Looking at Alan, it was hard to believe that he and Matthew were actually related. A scowling countenance appeared to be the only similarity.

‘Grown?’ Sir Ralph sounded scornful. ‘He’s hardly grown at all. He’s still as feeble and puny as his mother ever was!’

‘Since I don’t remember her, I can hardly dispute the fact.’ Alan’s tone was acerbic.

‘Well, I do and she was a weakling like you.’

‘Father!’ Matthew made a move to step in between them, but Alan took a few hasty steps forward, deliberately shouldering him aside.

‘I don’t need you to fight my battles any more!’ His voice was more like a hiss. ‘I take care of myself these days.’

‘I wasn’t trying to fi—’

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alan,’ Constance interrupted, doing her best to look and sound as if their behaviour were perfectly natural. ‘And to see you again, of course, Sir Ralph. Matthew’s told me so much about you and Wintercott and...everything.’

‘Indeed?’ Sir Ralph’s expression was blatantly disbelieving. ‘What exactly did he tell?’

‘Well...’ She faltered, looking between each of the men in turn. Matthew’s expression in particular looked rigid. Now that she thought of it, he’d barely told her anything at all, nothing except... ‘You have a new wife!’ The words came out more triumphantly than she’d intended and she adjusted her tone quickly. ‘That is, he told me you’d remarried last year.’

‘I did. Isn’t that so, my dear?’

She blinked, taken aback by the term of endearment spoken in her direction, though surely not to her, before she caught a glimpse of further movement in the shadows and a dark shape seemed to float towards them as if summoned by Sir Ralph’s words

. As she watched, the shape gradually revealed itself to be a young woman, probably just a little older than she was, with a willowy figure and auburn hair coiled into two long plaits. She was dressed in a pale grey gown that gave her the look of some kind of ghostly apparition and she came from the same side of the hall as Alan, as if the pair of them had been banished together from the warmth of the hearth.

‘Oh!’ Constance was too surprised to curtsy. ‘Forgive me, I didn’t see you there.’

The woman didn’t answer, her eyes glassy and mournful-looking as she stared at a point just beyond Constance’s shoulder. For a moment she wondered if she really were looking at an apparition, cold fingers trailing a steady path up and down her spine, chilling her very bones. There was something unsettling, sinister even, about the whole scene. This was her husband’s family—her family now, too—only family didn’t seem quite the right description. None of them seemed pleased by their reunion at all. There wasn’t the slightest hint of love or affection and barely any civility. The only warmth in the room was coming from the fireplace and that seemed out of bounds.

‘This is Adelaide, your new mother.’ Sir Ralph seemed unperturbed by his wife’s strange behaviour, his dark eyes glinting as he spoke.

‘My lady.’ Matthew’s second bow was even stiffer than his first. ‘Forgive me, but it’s been a long day and we’re both tired. We’ll have to delay our introductions until later. Constance?’ He didn’t wait for a response, tugging her towards some steps set beneath an arch in one corner. ‘We’ll go to my old chamber.’

‘You’ll find it’s your brother’s chamber now.’ His father’s voice was as smooth as poisoned honey and positively dripping with malice. ‘Surely you didn’t expect me to keep it empty for five years?’

‘Of course not.’ Matthew drew to a halt beside the steps. ‘In that case, which room should we use?’

‘I’ve given orders for the east chamber to be made ready.’

For a moment, Constance thought she must have misheard and that Sir Ralph had uttered some kind of insult instead. There was no other reason she could think of for the expression of horror that suddenly transformed her husband’s face. It seemed to drain of blood in a matter of seconds.

‘No.’ His tone was implacable. ‘Not there.’