The Stolen Bride. Susan Spencer Paul

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СКАЧАТЬ and become master of his own land and manor house. But his soul had been too darkened to carry on a life of planting fields and overseeing servants and vassals and pretending that all was well. Too much of him had died during the war to let him live in that manner.

      He had craved solitude and peace, and above all, namelessness—to put his old self away forever and never embrace it again. But becoming unknown had required great sacrifice. He could leave Wirth to visit his friends, but he could not receive their visits in his home. If any of the villagers saw Senet or John or Aric, they would know at once who Kayne was, and what he had once been, and the small measure of peace he’d striven so hard to gain would be lost. He would have to leave Wirth…and Sofia…and begin all over in a new place. If he could find one.

      It had taken months of hard searching to find Wirth, and he’d been especially glad of it for it kept him so close to his friends. Only twenty miles separated him from Senet and Aric, and another ten from John. He did not like to think of being farther away, in case they should ever need him, and because of this, he stood firmly in his determination to keep his friendship with such noblemen—famed warriors all—a secret.

      “Aye, we know,” Senet said more kindly. “My prayer is yet that you will one day come to yourself again, and cease such solitude. If you had gone into a monastery and taken vows, you could be no less cloistered than you are now.”

      It was true. Kayne had even considered taking such vows when he’d first begun to seek peace. He might have done so, if not for the vow of celibacy. He was not a man given to much dallying with women, but neither was he a man to forever deny himself the company of females. Even if he’d been able to conquer outright lust, desire was something he knew he would never vanquish.

      “Kayne,” Senet said, the timbre of his voice changing, growing sober and serious, “there is indeed a certain task that causes us to come to you this night. I’ve had a missive from your father.”

      Kayne looked sharply at his friend. “From my sire, you mean. I have no father, though I might name Sir Justin such, as he was a father to us all when we were boys.”

      “Aye, Sir Justin was truly a father to the fatherless,” John agreed, “but you were more fortunate than the rest of us, Kayne. You knew your parents—both mother and father, even if your father never claimed you as he should have done.”

      “Neither my mother, may God assoil her, or me,” Kayne said tightly, hot anger seeping through every pore. “I’ve tried not to hate the man, but the truth cannot be denied. He used her for his pleasure—a simple serving maid who knew no better than to love her lord—and when she found herself with child, he sent her away with naught but what she could carry.”

      Senet stepped forward. “I know you’re full angered with the man, Kayne, but you must realize that he did the best he could for her. He could have turned her out and left the both of you to suffer, but he sent her to Briarstone, where both she and you could be safe, and he sent money every quarter….”

      “Don’t speak of it!” Kayne shouted furiously, turning away from them. “Money to buy her silence. And to keep the truth of who my father was a secret from one and all.”

      “Nay, that is not why. Even your mother never thought that was so,” John argued gently, speaking with great care. “And when she died, Lord Renfrow sent for you, to bring you back to live with him at Vellaux. He did not want you to be alone, once she was gone. ’Twas your own stubbornness that kept you from going.”

      “I never would have put myself in his grasp,” Kayne muttered with a shake of his head. “By then he was only desperate for an heir. The wife he’d taken after sending my mother away never gave him a child—nor did any of his other women. I only became of import to him when he began to fear that he’d die without a child of his loins to inherit his grand titles and estates. If God had blessed him with other sons—legitimate sons—he would have forgotten me entirely.”

      Senet gave a long, weary sigh. “You are one of the best men on God’s earth, Kayne,” he said. “It grieves me to hear you speak so bitterly, when I know that your heart is above all things gentle and kind—except for the man who gave you life.”

      Kayne rounded on him. “He made my mother a whore, and then abandoned her. She spent her remaining days longing for him—for a man who cared nothing for either her or me.”

      “None of us can claim perfection, Kayne,” John argued. “Has he not tried to make amends? He is ill. He may be dying.”

      The argument on Kayne’s tongue fell away at this. He gazed first at John, then at Senet.

      “Dying? Is this true?”

      Senet nodded. “His physicians have given little hope that he’ll live another twelve months—and will be fortunate to survive but six. His one desire before he greets death is to see you, Kayne.”

      Kayne closed his eyes briefly, staring at the ground when he opened them again. He shook his head. “I cannot.”

      “You must,” Senet pressed, “else you face God’s punishment for letting sinful pride overtake righteous compassion. You’ve never even met the man to judge him so harshly.”

      “And I’ll not meet him,” Kayne said stubbornly. “By the age of ten, I’d known enough of my mother’s tears to vow that I would never crawl to that bastard—for any reason.”

      Senet held out a beseeching hand. “Kayne…”

      “If he’d wanted a son by his side,” Kayne cried, cutting him off, “then he should never have sent my mother away in favor of another.”

      “He may regret that he did so,” John said quietly. “Indeed, I think it must be the greatest regret of his life. But you’ll not know unless you go to him.” John hesitated, clearly considering what he was about to say. “I want to tell you something, Kayne—something I’ve wished to tell you for many years now.”

      Kayne turned his gaze to the smaller man. When he’d been a boy, John had ever spoken first and thought last, the greatest chatterer among them. But as a man, he’d become quieter, more considering, and when he spoke, it was a good thing to attend him. Kayne did so now, asking, “What is it, John?”

      “When we were boys at Briarstone,” John said, “before Sir Justin had taken us to Talwar to train in the ways of battle, I used to watch you with your mother—you and Aric and all the others. ’Tis true that they were all women who’d suffered a great deal, and almost all of them bearing children out of wedlock, but they were alive and loving—and I was tormented with a jealousy that you cannot begin to know. I had neither mother nor father nor any kin to claim me. To have had only a mother, such as you had, would have meant everything in the world. I would have gladly given my life to know but a week of such joy.”

      “I know that, John,” Kayne said with heartfelt sorrow. John had been abandoned as a newborn babe, left to die in a filthy ditch on a dark London night. He’d been rescued by the owner of a nearby tavern, and spent his earliest days living on London’s streets more like an animal than a human. If Sir Justin hadn’t discovered him and brought him to Briarstone—a place of refuge for all the unwanted—he’d surely have died long before reaching his tenth year. “But you did have a family at Briarstone. All of us were kin to one another there.”

      “Aye, and a blessed thing it was, too,” John agreed. “And, yet, for all that I knew of goodness there, I was jealous. Of you more than any other, for you had not only a mother, but also a father СКАЧАТЬ