Eighteen
The day of the tournament, just as the sun rose in the sky, Patience watched from the ramparts as Brodee rode across the bridge to partake in a quick hunt before the planned afternoon tournament. A contingent of men—that did not include William—rode behind her husband. She could see William at the other side of the ramparts talking to one of the guards. He had not been in her sights for four days now; it was more like he kept her in his sights. He was her new guard now, apparently assigned by Brodee without Brodee even telling William himself. Her husband had passed his order on to William through Fergus, who could not say or would not say why either of them had been reassigned, just that they had.
She suspected greatly it was because she had asked William to keep the secret that she had seen Brodee and Kinsey standing so intimately in the courtyard, that she’d stared in horrible disbelief as they had gone down the seagate stairs to the dark, rocky shores below. That she’d waited—with a twisting gut and cheeks burning with shame—for them to return, praying it would be quickly. Praying that Brodee would mention something to her, offer explanation and tenderness. But that had not happened in all the days since then.
Hurt roiled inside of her. Not only had he ignored her that night in the great hall when she had entered with Kinsey, who had been wearing that red gown, but he’d held hands with Kinsey, left the castle with Kinsey, and when he had returned, his words had been slurred and his demeanor off. He seemed to have drunk too much wine, which shocked her. For a man who prided himself on control, there had been quite a lack of it. Still, she knew he’d had a long day of training hard. That was forgivable. Or it would have been if not for the rest. And to add insult to injury, he’d apparently that night given Kinsey leave to organize the tournament festivities.
As the lady of the castle, that duty should be Patience’s. She would not have minded sharing it, had he asked her, but he’d not asked. Nor had he even told her that he’d given the responsibility to Kinsey. Jane had been the one to tell her when Kinsey had announced it to all the women she’d gathered the morning after that fateful supper in the great hall. Kinsey had not even told Patience, and when she’d asked her about it, Kinsey had apologized profusely and confessed that Brodee had asked her to walk with him after supper the night Patience had seen them in the courtyard. Brodee had apparently told Kinsey that he wanted her to oversee things because he had been worried Patience could not handle it, given she had no experience as the lady of the castle.
Patience pressed her fingertips to her aching forehead. She was so confused. Had he been trying to help her, or had he decided he no longer had use for her? Or was all this an effort to keep distance between them? Had his attentions turned to Kinsey? From the way Kinsey acted so uncomfortable and embarrassed, she did not seem to want them, yet she had once again taken on the duties of lady of the castle with gusto. Patience felt like an outsider, just as she always had before, as if she did not belong. Except it was worse this time because she hadwantedto belong. Brodee had breached her defenses and had gained her trust, along with a bit of her heart, and now she felt like a fool.
Since that night, he’d not said more than a few polite words of greeting when she had seen him, which had not been much. Between training with the men and hunting to stock the kitchens with meat for the winter, he’d been busy day and night. He had not been in the great hall for supper, nor had he come to her bedchamber to share another night of passion. She now doubted her decision to turn him away the night she’d seen him with Kinsey, but she’d been hurt and angry and she had not wanted him in her bed if he had been with Kinsey.
If what Kinsey had told Patience was to be believed, she and Brodee had simply talked, but it was what Kinsey had been clearly trying not to say that Patience had to pry out of her. She’d finally admitted in tears that it seemed to Kinsey as if Brodee had wanted something from her that night, something of a passionate nature, and that confession had stopped Patience from going to him. No matter how many times Patience went through possible reasons why Brodee had acted as he had, none of the outcomes were good. He wanted Kinsey. He wanted distance from Patience. He held no stock in being faithful. Bad. Terrible. Horrid. Sickening. That’s what all the answers to her confusion seemed to be.
She’d thought she could not feel worse than when Ivan had beaten her, and then she had learned at Silas’s hands that emotional punishment could be more scarring than physical punishment. After that, she’d believed she could never feel anything worse than that, but what she felt now was an utter loss of the joy she had experienced in Brodee’s arms. Had it even been real? She clenched her teeth at her cowardice. She was afraid of the answer, and that was truly why she’d not approached him yet.
She saw William turn her way and stride toward her, so she forced a smile to her face, but the look of pity he gave her let her know he saw through her mask. “Let me tell him what we saw,” William said, repeating the same request he’d put to her for days. “There is surely an explanation, and I dunnae like keeping things from him and avoiding him. I’m certain he kens I am doing so, and frankly, I’m shocked he’s nae come to me and demanded to ken why.”
“Mayhap he has nae done so because he is guilty. Mayhap he’s avoiding ye,” she said, her voice trembling, “because he kens ye would nae approve.” She swallowed past the sudden tightness of her throat. She had not told William the entirety of what she’d learned about Brodee, but the need to do so now, to have someone to talk to, to analyze it all, spilled out in a rush of words with the hope that William would tell her she was being foolish. That Brodee’s closest friend would reassure her once more that Brodee would never betray her, shame her, make her feel worthless.
Instead, William stared at her openmouthed for a long silent moment, and then he surprised her by stepping toward her and giving her a brotherly hug. “I’m certain it will all sort out,” he said in a tight voice. Yet he didn’tsoundcertain. He sounded angry, as if he believed Brodee had betrayed Patience—or wanted to—and the look of pity he gave her sealed it. She mumbled an excuse about needing to get to the kitchens to help prepare the tournament meals, and then she pulled away from him, quickly leaving before the tears started to fall.
As she made her way down the stairs and out of the castle to go to the kitchens, where she really did need to be helping, she nearly ran straight into Kinsey, who was coming from the woods carrying a basket. They both yelped, and Kinsey dropped the basket, then fell to her knees to gather the herbs that had tumbled out. Patience kneeled down to help. She wanted to hate the woman, but it was not Kinsey’s fault if Brodee was attracted to her.
“I’m sorry,” Patience said. “I did nae see ye.”
Kinsey stilled in gathering the herbs, and her gaze came to Patience. “I’m sorry, too,” she said. The three words sounded heavy with cumbersome regret, as if the two of them nearly running into each other weighed on Kinsey. It was odd.
They both stood. “I was just coming to find ye,” Kinsey said.
Patience frowned. “From the woods?”
Kinsey laughed at that. “Nay. Well, aye. I was planning to come find ye after I gathered the herbs in the woods for Mari.” She set a hand on Patience’s arm. “Brodee came to speak with me before he went hunting with the men.”
Brodee.When had Kinsey started calling Brodee by his given name and not using his title of laird? Her heart squeezed in anguish at the implication.
“Did he?” she managed to say, her voice sounding normal, though pain was flowing through her.
“Aye. I… Well, he thinks it best if I’m the one to sit at his side at the start of the games today.”
“I see,” Patience said, her chest aching.
“’Tis simply because I represent the Kincaide clan and he represents the Blackswell clan, and the tournament represents bringing the two clans together. ’Tis nae anything to be fashed about.”
“Of course nae,” she lied. “If ye’ll excuse me, since I’ll nae be needed at the start of the tournament, I dunnae think I’ll go to the ceremony. I’m awfully tired.” And shamed. And hurt. And something else that was brewing. Something making her hot and shaky.
Kinsey gave her an understanding smile. “Of course, I understand. Go have a rest. The castle will be nice and quiet since we will all be at the tourney, and ye can have a nice long nap.”
Patience nodded and quickly made her way to her bedchamber. She flung open the door and strode in, but then stopped cold. Her bedcovers were rumpled, though she’d left them perfectly made. She was certain of it. It looked as if someone had sat or had lain on her bed. The hairs on the back of her neck stood suddenly on end. Behind her, the door swished shut, and fright swept through her. She reached for the dagger sheathed at her hip, her fingers touching the cold steel, but before she could properly grasp it, pain burst in her head as she was hit from behind with something hard. Bright-white light exploded before her eyes, and then everything went black.
Brodee could not recall a time he’d been so distracted. Every moment awake was filled with thoughts of Patience. He longed to talk to her, to make her laugh, to bring her pleasure. Yet he could do none of that, not without knowing if she and William had betrayed him. Each day that went by with both of them avoiding him made him more certain that they were guilty.
The purpose of the hunt had really been to distract him, but with every animal he killed, he saw William’s face. Brodee knew he would snap if he did not confront William.
As for Patience, he would confront her after he spoke to William. No more waiting. She was his wife, betrayer or not, but he could not imagine keeping her near if she had betrayed him. The thought twisted his gut into a jumble of knots. He refused to analyze why her possible betrayal hurt so much. Instead, he settled on his pride.
As he rode in from the hunt, one of his men, Carrick, was waiting for him in the courtyard. Brodee had appointed Carrick to follow William and report back on his comings and goings. He knew William and Patience had been together. In fact, he purposely made it so to give them an opportunity to show him what they would do, and so far, they’d done nothing more than talk.
