“Nay, daughter, hush.” His movements feeble, he stroked her cheek. “I already know all that. Have you not been my daughter all your life?”
Della nodded and tears spilled over. She swiped the moisture from her eyes. Her lips curled into a brave smile.
“Now, give me peace. Tell me that the wedding is done. Tell me you are truly man and wife.” Lord Strathfeld coughed again. When she didn’t answer, he groaned and tried to push himself up on his arms.
“Yea, it is done,” Brant answered for her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, “and it will remain so.”
Lord Strathfeld sighed, an expression of peace coming over him as he took his new son at his word. Nodding in satisfaction at his daughter, he hushed, “Good. Good.”
The warmth of her husband’s palm soaked through her gown and she let his hand rest on her, not daring to show distaste in front of her father. She had given him enough grief over the marriage.
“And you, daughter?” Lord Strathfeld narrowed his eyes, as if trying to focus on her in the dim light. “Are you still angry at my choice?”
“Nay, father,” Della reassured him. Edwyn’s gaze caught hers in the dimness and he nodded in understanding. Her friend knew what she was about to do and approved of it. She closed her eyes, begging forgiveness for the lie she was about to tell to put her father at ease. “I’m truly happy in your choice. I did not mean to act ungrateful. I was only nervous about this night and it made me waspish and quick to anger.”
“Nay, Della. You have always been quick to anger.” The ealdorman touched her face. Then, finding the effort too fatiguing, he let it drop once more to the bed. Della made a weak noise, her heart heavy. “But you have naught to fear any longer. Lord Blackwell will make you a fine husband. He will protect you and our people.”
How can you be so sure? Della thought, but she said nothing. Hesitant, she moved her hand to cover Brant’s, stiffly patting it. Lord Strathfeld smiled weakly in approval.
Her flesh was chilled against his fiery touch. He ran his thumb over the side of her finger and she stiffened in response. Knowing her father watched, she pulled on his arm, her gaze imploring him to kneel beside her. Brant looked surprised by the request, but he joined her on the floor.
Dropping his hand, she wrapped her arm around his waist. She stroked the strong muscle of his back through the thin tunic. He returned the embrace, his arm gently winding around her waist, as he brushed his lips across her temple. Della didn’t move, didn’t look at him again. The tender gesture took her by surprise and she drank in his comfort. The ealdorman smiled contentedly, happier than she ever remembered seeing him. Their affection was having a heartening effect on the dying man. He was finally completely at peace over his decision.
I am doing this for my father. I feel naught for him. I feel naught for him. I feel naught…
Della exhaled, soft and long, not wanting to admit she was lying to herself as she leaned helplessly against her husband. She was so confused, so lost. She was losing her father and the one man she was supposed to hate was the one man she found herself drawing comfort from. Brant’s heat warmed her and a strange sensation coursed through her blood at the embrace. It was a sensation that hadn’t anything to do with the one his kiss inspired. It was different, gentler.
Della shuddered as her father closed his eyes. She withdrew her arm from Brant and laid it on Lord Strathfeld’s chest. The declaration of all she wanted to say welled inside her, but she couldn’t speak. Her eyes trained on the rise and fall of his shallow breaths.
The chamber was quiet and even the low fire refused to crackle. Della didn’t know how long she kneeled at her father’s side. After some time passed, Lord Strathfeld covered her hand with his own callused one. She could feel his weakened heart under her palm. He opened his eyes to gaze at her.
“Don’t be sad for me, sweet daughter,” he whispered. “I have lived a good and honest life, and I have lived to see you happily wed. Soon I will see my sweet Evelyn and my son. You remind me a lot of your mother. You have her strength. I love you, Della.”
“I love you,” Della mouthed. After all the years since her mother’s death, his thoughts were of her still. A small smile alighted on her father’s face. She felt the strength of Brant’s arm around her as Lord Strathfeld’s heart stopped beating under her hand. For a stunned moment she waited, willing his chest to rise, willing the thump against her hand, but the ealdorman’s heart did not beat again.
“Nay!” She threw herself onto her father’s chest with a painful sob. “Father, don’t leave me. I cannot bear for you to leave me, too.”