Reclaimed by Her Rebel Knight

It was a statement, not a question, and she heard herself gasp, shocked by his bluntness. ‘Not exactly. He said that the two of you were close, but he wasn’t sure what else.’

‘Close.’ He seemed to consider the word. ‘I suppose that’s accurate, but we were not, were never, lovers. As my wife, you ought to know that.’

‘Oh.’ She mouthed the sound, too faintly for even her own ears to hear it, vaguely aware of its inadequacy. A thrill of relief coursed through her body at the words, but her head resisted the temptation to let her feel any better. Whether they’d been lovers or not didn’t make any difference, not really, not if they’d still been in love...

‘You don’t believe me.’ His eyes narrowed slightly.

‘It’s not that. I do believe you, only...’

‘I wasn’t in love with her either.’ He seemed to guess her thoughts. ‘We were close, I admit that. Maybe too close for stepmother and stepson, but that’s all we were. There was only a month between us in age and she was so full of life and laughter, unlike anyone I’d ever met before. She liked to flirt, but that’s all it ever was, just flirting.’ He sighed. ‘The east chamber was her room.’

‘Oh.’

‘It’s beautiful, I know, but I couldn’t sleep there. It would remind me too much of her.’

‘So that’s what your father meant about ghosts.’ She took a step towards him. ‘How long was she married to him?’

‘Only two years, but life here came as a terrible shock for her.’

‘Did he treat her so badly?’

Matthew’s jaw tightened. ‘He’s not a man who understands love, but he knows all about its opposite. He understands cruelty and he’s clever about it. He’s been the same with all his wives. He wants their money as much as he resents them for having it in the first place. Only Marthe was experienced enough to know what she was getting into. She wanted a home and position and was prepared to tolerate the rest. She and my father mostly ignored each other, which was the way she preferred it, but Blanche didn’t understand his behaviour and for some reason that made him worse. He belittled and mocked her, not just in private, but in front of guests, too. He made her feel worthless and unloved and hopeless. It was like he drained the life right out of her.’

‘But why? Why would he do that?’

‘Who knows? I don’t know what’s wrong with him. Only there’s a hole where his heart ought to be. Blanche found that out the hard way.’

‘It sounds terrible.’

‘It was. She turned to me for comfort, just comfort because she needed someone to talk to and so I talked to her. Maybe it was naive to think that we could be friends, but I was lonely, too. Unfortunately, my father thought it was more than just friendship. He never accused either of us directly, but I knew what he was thinking. Only I never imagined anyone else thought so, too, especially Alan.’

‘He said that he heard the two of you arguing in your chamber on the night she fell.’

‘Yes.’ He twisted his head from one side to the other as if he were trying to ease some stiffness in his neck. ‘I suppose it was an argument of sorts, although we were both on the same side. That night, she came to my chamber begging me to do something to help her. The problem was that I didn’t know what to do. He was my father and I was still just a youth. I could never have bested him in a fight and I was afraid of what he would do to her if I failed. I tried to comfort her, but she was beyond comfort. The look in her eyes was wild. Finally she asked me to run away with her.’

‘Run away?’ Constance felt herself blanch. ‘So she was in love with you?’

‘No. Maybe she thought that she was, but mostly she wanted a way out. Maybe I should have agreed, but I couldn’t. There was nowhere that we could have gone where my father wouldn’t have found us and I couldn’t bear the thought of abandoning Alan. I told her there had to be another way, but she ran away from me and up here before I could stop her.’

‘So she really was desperate?’

‘Yes. Maybe she wasn’t in her right mind either, but her fall wasn’t intentional. No matter what anyone says

, it was an accident.’

‘I don’t understand...how?’

‘By the time I got up here she was already standing on the edge. I pleaded with her to get down. I said that I’d work out some way to help her, even if it meant fighting my father bare-handed. I meant it, too. I would have fought him to the death to protect her.’ He curled his hands into fists at the words, his voice hoarse with emotion. ‘And it worked. When she looked over her shoulder at me, there were tears running down her cheeks, but the crazed look in her eyes was gone. I reached a hand out to help her down, but we must have made more noise than I’d thought because my father appeared in the stairwell behind me and she was frightened. I saw it in her face. She moved backwards instinctively and lost her footing...’ He cleared his throat as if the words were actually sticking there. ‘I couldn’t grab her in time. I tried.’

‘Matthew...’ Constance let go of the breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.

‘It was over there.’ He gestured behind her. ‘That was the spot.’

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘I dreamt of those few moments every night for a year afterwards. That and the look on my father’s face when I turned to confront him. There was no horror in it, no regret or shame, just a kind of cold anger, as if he blamed me for what had just happened. At that moment, I think we loathed each other equally. If I’d had a weapon, I would have attacked him with it, but I only had my hands.’

‘Did you...?’