The Laird's Captive Wife(51)

‘France,’ he replied.

Her heart sank as an unwelcome possibility suddenly dawned. Had these things belonged to Eloise? Suddenly she was mortified. Why hadn’t such a possibility occurred to her before now?

‘They belonged to my mother,’ he continued. ‘After she died they were put away. I’d almost forgotten about them, but it seems fitting now that they should return to their rightful place.’

She let out the breath she had been holding, feeling almost weak-kneed with relief.

‘Did she die long ago?’

‘Aye, when I was four and ten. My father packed away everything connected with her, including me.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Although I was sent to France rather than the storeroom.’

‘That must have been hard.’

‘Not really. It was a relief in many ways. As I told you, my father and I were never close. He had a quick temper and frequently exercised it on me, whether it was merited or not.’

Although there was nothing remotely self-pitying about the tone of voice Ashlynn sensed the hurt beneath. Sensed it and identified with it.

‘Well, families are strange things, are they not?’

‘Aye, lass, they are.’

‘Children are vulnerable enough without having to contend with the enmity of a parent.’

The tone was even but he caught the wistful expression in her eyes.

‘We play as the dice fall,’ he replied, ‘and perhaps it makes us stronger.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘You are strong in spite of your father,’ he said. ‘Strong and brave.’

There was no hint of mockery in the quiet tone and Ashlynn looked up in surprise. Then she shook her head.

‘My father’s word was reckless.’

‘Then he didn’t know you very well, did he?’

Disconcerted by the unforeseen direction of the conversation, Ashlynn changed tack. ‘Did you have no brothers or sisters?’

‘Three other siblings died in infancy but I have a sister living.’

‘A sister? What is her name?’

‘Jeannie.’

‘Shall I meet her soon?’

‘I doubt it,’ he replied.

‘Oh, she lives some distance away then.’

‘Not so far, but in recent years we have become—estranged.’

Ashlynn took a deep breath. ‘May I ask why?’

‘We quarrelled.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ She paused. ‘Could you not make it up again?’

‘No.’ He sighed. ‘This disagreement admits of no remedy.’ Then seeing her puzzled expression he went on, ‘It concerns Fitzurse.’

‘Fitzurse!’Ashlynn was genuinely astonished. ‘How so?’

‘Jeannie thinks I should give up my quest to find him.’

‘I see.’

‘No, you don’t. You have no idea.’

The tone was unwontedly harsh. She could hear anger and, beneath it, something that sounded more like pain. The expression in his eyes was glacial. One part of her mind quailed, telling her to back off and leave it alone. Yet the stronger part knew she could not. This must be faced. She needed to know, to understand. Instinctively she reached out and laid a gentle hand on his arm.

‘Then will you not tell me?’

For a moment she thought he was going to snub her as he had before, and tell her it was none of her concern. She saw him draw a deep breath as though to steady himself.

‘If anyone has a right to know I suppose it is you,’ he replied.

Her heartbeat quickened and she waited, unwilling to do anything that might break the mood now.

‘I told you that I was married before and that my wife had died,’ he continued. ‘Fitzurse was the man responsible for that.’

Ashlynn stared at him, stunned and appalled together.

‘My father had sent me to France in order to complete my military training. His sister was…is…married to a French nobleman, the Comte de Vaucourt, a man renowned for skill at arms. It was in their house that I met Eloise. She was…most beautiful. I believe I fell in love with her at first sight.’

As she listened Ashlynn kept her face determinedly neutral, hiding the turmoil of thoughts behind.

‘My feelings were reciprocated and, since there were no objections to the match from either of our families, we married. For a while we were very happy. However, I had a jealous rival.’

Ashlynn’s gaze met his for a moment. ‘Fitzurse.’

‘Aye. He had had designs on Eloise himself and took it much amiss that her hand should be granted to one he saw as a foreign interloper. That it was so clearly a love match piqued his pride even further. So, believing himself slighted, he planned his revenge.’

‘What did he do?’