Adele stirred and shrank away from the hand that shook her gently.
“Lady Adele, wake up!”
It was Druce’s voice, insistent and low. Adele opened her eyes to find him leaning over her, one hand upon her shoulder and the other holding a goblet out to her.
“What is it, Druce?”
“Lor… Master Finan requires a few moments of your time.”
Adele was very still, looking up at him and yet not really seeing him at all.
“What does he want?” Eda’s voice came from beside her.
Druce looked a little lost, as though he was not sure how to answer this question.
“He requires a few moments of Lady Adele’s time,” the boy repeated carefully. “Are you ready, my lady?”
“He wants to talk to us now?” Again it was Eda that answered.
“Yes, my lady, he waits outside.”
Adele rose from the bed hurriedly and moved to where her clothes hung over a chair.
“Tell Finn we will be but a moment, Druce,” instructed Adele.
Druce bowed and fled the room.
“I had thought that on reaching the safety of the camp Finn would have left us to sleep in peace.”
“The fact that he has not is proof that something is very wrong,” returned Adele.
Eda paused in her exertions.
“D-do you think so?” she asked fretfully. “What could be amiss?”
Adele, having completed the complicated task of dressing hurriedly, turned to her friend and began to comb her hair.
“If we wait but a moment Finn will make all plain to us.”
Rafe stood impatiently without. Having made up his mind to tell dele the truth, he wished only that it might be done quickly.
“Finn?”
Adele was at the opening of the tent, gesturing that he was now permitted to enter. He checked on the threshold, pausing as he registered Eda.
“I must speak to Lady Adele alone, Eda.”
Eda looked scandalised.
“Finn, are you out of your senses?” she gasped. Rafe held back the flap of the tent ready for her to pass through.
“Now, Eda.”
Eda hesitated uncomfortably but, on encountering a nod from Adele, moved toward the opening. She stopped as she reached Rafe’s side and looked up at him with a knowledgeable glint in her eyes.
“I hope you know what you are doing, Finn.”
For a second their gazes held and then she was gone. The room was quiet after she had left. Adele surreptitiously regarded Rafe from beneath her lashes and found he looked preoccupied and distant. For a time they remained still, and then Rafe turned to her with an air of a man who had something unpleasant to accomplish.
“Ask me my name, Adele,” he demanded.
“Your pardon, Finn?”
He saw confusion in her eyes, a turmoil of thoughts that caused a slight furrow between her brows.
“Just do as I say.”
Adele hesitated, she might have laughed but he seemed so detached and remote.
“Very well, Finn,” she smiled nervously. “What is your name?”
“Rafe, son of Brogan, Lord of Valrek.”
For a while there was silence, and he could see uncertainty in her eyes, as though she thought this must be some strange jest. Then he saw her gaze turn self conscious and embarrassment flooded her face with colour.
He was Lord Rafe? Adele’s fingers found the softness of her leg and she gave herself a hard pinch, it hurt prodigiously.
So this wasn’t a dream.
That had been the first wild thought to enter her head, that something so perfectly accommodating to her happiness must surely not be real. The second was the feeling of elation that welled up within her, filling her with such relieved bliss that for some moments she was dazed.
By and by she began to notice that all was not well after all. Because Finn, and she could not help but keep thinking of him by that name, was standing staring grimly at the floor.
Rafe was still, uncomfortable within himself. He knew not what to say, how to explain. In his complete absorption in his own thoughts, he completely missed the unrestrained joy that flooded Adele’s face at his tidings. When he did raise his eyes her expression had changed into one of bewilderment that, having missed that which had gone before, he misunderstood.
Adele looked up at him, her huge eyes filled with a sudden and new self-consciousness. She remembered all the things that she had said to Finn, things that had been heard by Lord Rafe. Was that why he was so unhappy? Had she said something that had displeased him?
Her cheeks suddenly blanched; had he known? Had she somehow betrayed her feelings for him? She hung her head, if he knew he would think she had not a loyal bone in her body. She felt suddenly so exposed, knowing that every time she had said or done anything, Finn had been searching her out, testing her. For her he had just been Finn and she had liked him, they had been friends. Yet in a second all that was gone, for her as well as for him.
Rafe felt his stomach tense into an ever tightening knot, he had no way to know what she was thinking. She must be angry, probably hurt, and definitely wishing him gone. The thought of her unhappiness, and the knowledge that he was the cause of it, made him wince.
He wished she would speak, say something that would tell him her thoughts. Yet she only looked up at him stunned and hurt. He felt as though her eyes accused him softly. Rafe turned from her, angered by his own ineptitude. Why could he not think of some way to reach out to her, a way to make things easy between them again?
There had been silence for so long and, as Rafe turned from her, Adele could bear it no longer. She could not bear the distaste in his manner, the frustration she had seen etched in his face. His anger was directed at her, little though she understood it.
“’Tis a pleasure to meet you, my lord.” Adele sank into a deep curtsy, feeling very foolish that she could think of nought else to say.
Rafe hesitated, unsure what he should do. She must have felt badly hurt to have retreated behind a façade of distant civility.
“Try to believe, Adele, that there was reason for the deception. I had not meant for it to cause you discomfort,” he spoke stiffly, his uncertainty making the words diffident.
Adele blinked back wretched tears. Even now, when filled with anger for her, he was still trying to be kind. Somehow it made it worse, but she would not cry in front of him. It would be the last indignity.
“Do not regard my foolishness, my lord,” she met his eyes squarely. “You have no need to explain yourself to me.”
Rafe wished to goodness that she hadn’t taken that stance, better if she had asked him to tell her all than to push him away.
“Sit down.”
At his blunt words Adele’s eyes met his with fresh misery in their depths.
Damnation! Could he do nought without making it worse?
Adele walked slowly to one of the chairs placed beside the fire and sank into it, grateful for its support. Rafe had begun pacing around the restricted space of the tent. Adele felt a little easier; this was familiar, this restless impatience. It was something she recognised in the man who suddenly seemed a stranger. However, his face was still darkened by an angry frown.
So this was how it would be.
For so long she had wondered what Lord Rafe would be like; what he would think of her, how he would feel about her. Now she knew. She was an irritant to him. Every line of his posture told of his frustration, his exasperation at the situation he found himself in.
It cut her deeply and she knew an aching and fervent longing for the fort, for Mistress Ardith’s comfort. It had all seemed so simple, so clear when Mistress Ardith had explained to her the circumstances of her betrothal to Lord Rafe, the duties and position she would fill. Everything had been explained so carefully, and in such detail, that Adele had felt well equipped for her new life. Now she felt very young and inadequate, filled with an awkwardness that held her mute before him. She
wished only that he would leave and put an end to the scene between them.
All the while Rafe continued to pace, noticing her silence and the deadened look in her eyes. All his life he had known what to do. Confronted with any situation he had always known what should be done, and had accomplished it. Why must it be that he lost that ability when talking to Adele? Just when he needed it, when it mattered most to him, his confidence faltered.
Then again, how many times had he been called upon to settle any dispute which involved women? He felt suddenly that a whole area of his education had been passed over. He hadn’t the slightest idea what he ought to do to make things better.
“Finan has been hurt.” The words broke from his mouth with little connection to that which had gone before.
“Who is Finan?” asked Adele carefully.
“He was introduced to you as Lord Rafe, I believe.”
“And he was hurt? How?”
“Ambush.” Rafe paused and resumed his pacing. “He was ambushed by someone who thought that he was Lord Rafe. It is why I have told you the truth; I did not wish you to hear it from anyone else.”
Adele was beginning to wish that it had happened like that; anything would have been an improvement so long as it had spared them this awkward discussion. Rafe was watching her carefully, as if looking for some reaction. Gathering what wits she still possessed, she thanked him tonelessly for his thoughtfulness.
Why did he keep staring at her like that?
His eyes were so intent that she felt exposed before him, as though he could see every thought in her head. He was looking at her as though he had sought to find something, but she had been found wanting.
She should be happy to find that the man she cared for, and the man she was betrothed to were one and the same person. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that she would find love in her marriage, it had not been sensible to suppose it was a possibility. Yet here she was before her promised husband, a man she knew to be kind and generous, who had treated her with the warmth of friendship, and who had been willing to give his life for hers. She could hardly keep from weeping at the sadness in her heart, because somehow, somewhere, she had done something wrong and he was angry.
“Adele, I…” Rafe paused trying to marshal his thoughts. “Adele, I am sorry for any pain I have caused you.”
He watched her avert her face hurriedly, and felt his heart sink, he had not known what to say and even to his own ears the words had sounded glib.
“Please send Eda back into me when you leave.”
There could be no mistaking her meaning and Rafe felt the rebuff forcefully. He bowed slightly, stiffly, and was gone. Adele remained so still that she might have been carved in rock.
“Well he is in a black temper, is he not?” demanded Eda, entering the tent a few moments later. “What was so important? It must have been bad to put him in such a foul mood.”
Adele had still not moved, and Eda reached out to take her hand; it was ice cold and trembling.
“Adele, is something amiss?”
Adele looked up, her eyes swimming with unshed tears and a determined smile on her lips.
“Why should anything be amiss?”
She fell into the comfort of her friend’s embrace to cry bitter tears that shook her violently. Eda was by turns alarmed and angry. Alarmed at what must have occurred to cause Adele such distress, and angry that Finn, after wreaking such havoc, had simply walked away.
“Adele, what is it? I cannot remember a time when I have seen you cry so.”
Adele gulped, trying to bring her tears under control.
“Eda, Finn is Lord Rafe!”
Eda stared at her, trying to accept the information. Finally she shook her head.
“Finn? Our Finn, is Lord Rafe of Valrek?”
Adele nodded.
“As in the same Lord Rafe of Valrek that you are betrothed to?” continued Eda.
Adele nodded again as fresh tears spilled over her cheeks. Eda rocked back on her heels, her face showing plainly her shock.
“But, you will have to help me, Adele; I still cannot make out why you are crying.”
Adele brushed the back of her hand across her face.
“Because I am so unhappy.”
“Well, I would not say that I would want to marry him, not with a temper like that, but…” She took another look at her friend. “I thought that we liked Finn?”
“He is not Finn, Eda, he is Lord Rafe.” Adele bit her lip trying to fight back her tears. “And the Lord Rafe who spoke to me just a moment ago was nothing like Finn.”
“Come, Adele, this is unlike you!”
“He just stood there, Eda! Glaring at me as though I ought to have been doing something, all silent and cross.”
“I dare say he felt just as awkward as you did,” soothed Eda.
Adele shook her head miserably.
“No, he was in perfect control of himself.” Tears welled up at the memory. “He was so displeased, Eda, what did I do that he should be so angry with me?”
Adele’s voice was quietly pleading. Eda put her arm around her friend’s shoulders and drew her into a comforting embrace. She did not answer the question. Adele was too upset to be reasonable and her time was far better spent trying to sooth her.
“How did you do it, Eda?”
The question came as such a surprise that for a moment Eda was quite devoid of breath.
“Adele, I…” Eda closed her eyes, swallowing painfully, trying to suppress the feeling of hurt that rose within her. “He never said anything…”
“He did not need to, anyone could see that…”
Eda stood abruptly, releasing Adele, and walked the length of the tent, trying to hide her emotions from her friend.
“Adele he was kind to me, to both of us.” She turned, her face set in determined, numb repose. “It was no more than that, we should never have imagined that it was.”
But she had been certain that there was more to it than that. Eda shook her head trying to clear her thoughts. They had been so young, she and Adele; so sheltered and innocent. Randwulf’s visits had seemed so exciting, enlivening their monotonous existence at the fort.
By the time she had reached her fourteenth year he had been a man full grown, and seemed to embody all the mystery and valour of a great hero. He had been so much older than them, to him they were little more than children.
She and Adele had often talked of him, of his handsomeness and the excellence of his person. Yet she had always admired him from afar, it had been Adele he was drawn to. That had caused her some worry, but on the only occasion she had brought the matter into the open between them, Adele had begged her to remember that she was betrothed to Lord Rafe. She had assured her that she was not likely to forget that and all that lord Rafe had done for her, just because a good looking young man seemed to have a predilection for her society. Then she had laughed and said that she rather fancied that Randwulf would not have had her anyway.
Looking back Eda could see that there had never been the least danger of Adele developing romantic feelings for Randwulf. She had always been able to judge him with an accuracy that would have been impossible for someone who had been in love. Eda remembered a conversation in which she and Adele had fallen out badly. Adele had remarked that it was a pity Randwulf’s eyes were so deep set, and Eda had contested such a slur angrily.
Time had passed, and with that time Randwulf’s attitude had changed. He had begun to take more notice of Eda, and his manner had become steadily warmer. They had spent more of his visits in conversation together, and she had felt her admiration grow to become slightly different. It became a much stronger emotion that had burnt most fiercely when Randwulf had been at her side.
She had been a little nervous of the feeling at first. Randwulf had seemed to experience the same intense bond, or at least that is how it had seemed to her. How many times had she thought that there had been something in his eyes?
>
She had been wrong, or maybe he had changed his mind. Perhaps he had only been friendly and then, sensing her attachment, had seen his mistake. Either way, his manner had changed abruptly. He had started to treat her distantly, as though she had been a stranger.
The pain of it had shocked her with its potency. she had felt for the longest time that she must have done something wrong, that somehow she had caused offence. Maybe she had, but it no longer mattered for the end had been the same. The cordiality had disappeared between them and left only coolness behind. Eda was surprised to feel Adele’s hand slip into hers, and she turned to look down into her friend’s conscious stricken eyes.
“Forgive me, Eda, I meant no harm.”
Eda forced a smile.
“I know.” She lifted her free hand to rest upon Adele’s. “Only look at the two of us; we do not play this game of love very well, do we?”
Adele’s eyes widened and she looked away.
“I never said that I loved him, Eda.”
“Come, Adele; if you did not love him you would not feel so wretched.” Eda paused, her expression becoming softly unfocused. “It is the ones we love best in the world that have the greatest power to hurt us.”
Chapter Twenty Three