The Heiress Bride. Susan Paul

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      “Hugo,” he said very softly. He took two more steps and held out his arms.

      “You,” the monk whispered, and with an animal sound launched himself at his brother. Hugh never even knew what hit him, Hugo’s attack was so violent and sudden. A blow to his left cheek sent him sprawling into a nearby stall, and as soon as he landed Hugo leapt upon him, his fists pummeling him again and again.

      Rosaleen was thoroughly stunned. She had never seen such a sight or imagined anything like it. A monk, of all people, brawling like a common knave! She didn’t know what she should do, or what the precedent was for handling the situation. If it had been Hugh and some other common man, she would have dumped a bucketful of the horses’ water on them, but she didn’t know if throwing water on a monk was allowed by the Church, and she had too much consideration for her soul to endanger it by committing a sin in ignorance. Unable to think of anything more helpful, she simply ran around the fighting men, begging them to stop.

      “No, no, Hugh!” she cried when he slugged the priest in the stomach, doubling him over before hitting him again to send him flying into a pile of hay. “He’s a monk! A monk, Hugh! You mustn’t hit him!”

      “I know damned well what he is!” Hugh roared. “Stay out of the way, Rosaleen!”

      He barely got the words out before Hugo slammed into him, sending the both of them sliding across the stable floor. This time Hugo ended up on top and quickly straddled his struggling brother, pinning him down.

      “You rotten bastard!” he shouted. “I’ve been waiting ten years to do this to you, and I’ll not be denied my pleasure!”

      “Oh, oh, oh!” Rosaleen wailed. “Father, your language!”

      “Be quiet!” both brothers shouted at her.

      “Well!” Rosaleen stamped her foot.

      “Do you have any idea how I felt that morn when I woke and found you gone?” Hugo demanded angrily. “Do you?” He shook him. “Sixteen years we were together, never apart, sharing everything, and yet you snuck off in the middle of the night without so much as a word to met Not one damned word!” He lifted a fist and furiously slammed it into Hugh’s face. “You’ll never be able to imagine what that did to me! Never!”

      “I’m sorry,” Hugh mumbled, groaning, shaking his head to clear it. “I’m sorry, Hugo.”

      “Sorry!” Hugo repeated. “Ten years later and you say you’re sorry!”

      “I never meant to hurt you. I never meant that, Hugo, you know that’s true. But I had to go.”

      “You didn’t have to go,” Hugo told him. “You could have stayed and worked through the pain, as I had to do all alone once you deserted me. We could have worked it out together. But instead you chose to run, and you’re running still. Hugh Caldwell!” He spat the word out with disgust. “In all of ten years you never once came home.”

      “No, I didn’t,” Hugh agreed miserably. “But I did write, Hugo, so that no one would ever worry about me.”

      Hugo nodded grimly, shoving at Hugh’s shoulders. “That’s right. You wrote on occasion. And Lillis cried over every single missive, just as she cried her heart out for weeks after you ran away. She blamed herself, and nothing Alex or I or anyone else did or said could make her think otherwise. That’s what you did to her with your selfishness, brother.”

      “Oh God,” Hugh whispered, his voice filled with pain. “I didn’t mean to hurt Lillis.”

      Hugo laughed bitterly. “You didn’t mean to hurt me, and you didn’t mean to hurt Lillis, and I’ll assume you didn’t mean to hurt Alex or Aunt Leta or anyone else, but you did, Hugh. You did.” He moved off his brother at last and slowly stood. “Now, what are you doing here?” he asked coldly. “Why did you bother to come home?”

      “Because of me,” Rosaleen murmured, horrified at what she had made Hugh Caldwell return to.

      Hugo turned to look at her as Hugh lifted himself from the ground.

      “And who, my lady, are you?” “Hugo,” Hugh said, gingerly rubbing his bruised jaw, “please meet Rosaleen. I don’t know her last name, so you’ll have to live without that. Rosaleen, meet my brother, Father Hugo Baldwin. Rosaleen’s in need of help, so I’m taking her to Alex. But I…wanted to see you first…so I thought we might spend the night here. If you want us to go, we will.” When Hugo glanced at him sharply, Hugh added, “I understand, Hugo. It hasn’t been so long that I don’t know your thoughts anymore.”

      Hugo made no reply but turned his gaze once more to Rosaleen, surveying her first with the same anger he had directed at his brother, then with growing curiosity.

      Rosaleen examined him in much the same way, just as angrily and curiously.

      “Why, of course,” she said. “You’re twins. That’s why I mistook you for Hugh.” Unconsciously she inched toward Hugh until she stood beside him. Only then did she make a tiny bow. “Father Hugo,” she greeted dutifully, and stiffly.

      “My lady.” He nodded at her. “If we have you to thank for bringing my brother home, then not only I, but my entire family, will be most grateful.”

      “You don’t seem grateful to see your brother, my lord. Indeed, from your manner and speech I should think you’d rather string me up than thank me.” The words came out of her with surprising tartness.

      Instead of being angry, as he had every right to be, Rosaleen knew, the monk surprised her by lowering his eyes. Slipping his hands into the sleeves of his plain tunic, he looked suddenly meek and defenseless. “I think, then, my lady, that you know nothing about twins. You are wrong when you say that I am not glad to see my brother. His return is the answer to a prayer I have prayed every night since the night I saw him last.”

      “Hugo,” Hugh pleaded, reaching out to his brother once more. Hugo quickly sidestepped him and started for the door.

      “I shall see to your lodgings.” His voice was stern again. “The evening meal will be served in two hours’ time.”

      

      Their dinner passed more easily. Hugh and Hugo had silently agreed to at least be polite to each other, if not friendly. The three of them ate together in a small private chamber off the main dining area, so that they could converse without the restriction of the silence imposed upon the monks during their meals.

      It was strange for Rosaleen to sit between two men who were exact copies, save for their hair and clothing. Even their voices sounded alike, so that she didn’t think she would be able to tell them apart in the dark.

      “You’ve turned into something of a firebrand, Hugh,” Hugo commented. “We often get word of your adventures, even here at the monastery, though I generally hear of them from Alex whenever I visit at Gyer.”

      Pushing his soup aside, Hugh chuckled. “I’ve turned into something of a firebrand? You’re one to speak, brother. Do you not remember all the mischief we got into when we were boys? Being a monk has affected your memory.”

      Hugo laughed in turn. “I remember, Hugh. The brothers here won’t let me forget the time we loosed our dogs in the СКАЧАТЬ