My Heart Belongs to You (Medieval Romance Trilogy Book 3) (32 page)

Ada gasped. “You have conceived a child?”

Ysabelle bit her bottom lip. “Yes.”

Clapping her hands, Ada smiled widely. “How wonderful. I must be on hand to help you when you give birth. I am much more experienced at birthing babes now. You might have difficulty, like your mother. Oh, your father would be so pleased with this news.”

Jerking around, Ysabelle glared at the woman. “My father would be heartbroken. I don’t believe he knew what a mess this betrothal would become.”

“It’s understandable that you are upset, my lady. But you mustn’t give up hope. It will be well…” Ada’s torso lurched and she went very still. Her eyes widened and she blinked, the blood draining from her face. Her mouth rounded with surprise and she took a faltering step toward Ysabelle.

“Ada? What is wrong?” Walking to her side, Ysabelle took Ada’s hands in her own.

The woman fell forward. Scrambling to catch her, Ysabelle screamed. An arrow protruded from Ada’s back, high up on her right shoulder.

The open window! An English arrow had hit its mark with unerring accuracy.

“Ada! Oh, no,” Ysabelle cried as she lowered the handmaiden to the floor.

“Ysabelle, forgive me, dear one,” the woman whispered, her voice fraught with pain.

“There is nothing to forgive. Lie still and I’ll get help,” Ysabelle reassured with a quavering voice.

Ada clutched folds of Ysabelle’s dress, her hands blotching the linen with blood. “There is much I must tell you. Much I must ask forgiveness for.”

Ysabelle almost had to pry the woman’s hands loose. Panic raced up her throat. “We will talk later.”

Jumping to her feet, Ysabelle dashed to the door, throwing it wide. “Margaret! Genevieve! Help me!”

Several servants came running. Within minutes, Ada was carried to her room and laid on her pallet. The woman groaned, her eyes closed with pain. Terror clawed Ysabelle’s heart. She couldn’t lose Ada, the only mother she’d ever known. Not now. Not when she needed her so much.

Be calm. Think! She must not lose her composure now.

She inspected Ada’s wound, accepting the cloths Margaret handed her to staunch the flow of blood. “You will be all right. I don’t think the wound is lethal.”

She cut the apron and dress from Ada’s torso so she might get a better look. Blood ran between Ysabelle’s fingers as she tugged gently on the arrow to see how tight it was against the bone.

Ada whimpered.

“I’m sorry to hurt you, but it must come out,” Ysabelle said.

Biting her lip, Ada nodded her graying head.

Grasping the shaft in a firm hold, Ysabelle pulled quick and hard. The arrow gave way and Ada’s shrill scream vibrated in the room.

Ada fainted. Ysabelle sighed with relief as Hannah helped her staunch the flow of blood. While Margaret heated water to cleanse the wound, Ysabelle mixed herbs to kill the poisons. Within an hour, Ysabelle had bandaged Ada’s torso. If poison did not set in, Ada would live. Ysabelle would accept nothing else.

“Lord Nicholas has been informed of what has happened,” Hannah told her later when she returned with a cup of broth. “He will come as soon as he can break away from the siege.”

Ysabelle suspected Nicholas’s motives. She knew he didn’t care for Ada. But he wasn’t a cruel man who would desire Ada’s death.

Nodding her thanks, Ysabelle added a pain reliever to the broth and spooned it down Ada’s throat. Ada smiled weakly and Ysabelle kissed her wrinkled brow, swallowing the tears that threatened to fall. She couldn’t lose Ada. Not now. Caressing Ada’s wrinkled cheek, she ignored the tears streaming down her face.

“I should have fought Nicholas to the death,” she whispered with regret. “I should never have let him enter Sutcliffe. I should not have wed him. And yet, even now, I love him. How has he wrapped around my heart so that I can think of nothing but seeing him again?”

Ada shook her head, her silvery eyes dimmed with pain. She reached her bony hand up to caress Ysabelle’s arm. “At one time, I agreed you shouldn’t wed him. But now, I know you did the right thing. Maston wanted both you and Nicholas to hold Sutcliffe together.”

Fury pulsed in Ysabelle’s veins. Her love for Nicholas was a selfish thing. And now, her passion for him might cost Ada her life. “If Nicholas hadn’t come here, you would not be injured. He has no right to be here. I had no right to endanger you by wedding him.”

“No!” Ada cried and tried to rise. “He has every right to hold these lands. He is Lord Maston’s…”

“Ada, don’t talk now. You must rest.” Ysabelle pressed the woman back on the pallet. Ada had tried to kill Nicholas, yet now, she was defending the Scotsman. How odd!

“I might not live, child. We must speak now,” Ada said.

Tears filled Ysabelle’s eyes. “You will not die. I forbid it.”

A wan smile curved Ada’s lips. Her pale face gleamed in the shadows, her voice a weak whisper. “I have watched you grow into a woman. Your father would be proud of you. But you must never think Lord Nicholas has no right to rule Sutcliffe.”

Ysabelle was confused. “I thought you hated him. You tried to kill him.”

“You know I regret that. I thought only to protect you from a brutal man. But now, I realize he loves you.”

Ysabelle snorted. “He loves what our union has brought to him. Power and land.”

Ada shook her head. “He has always loved you, even when he didn’t know you. Your father betrothed you to him. You have a right to know why.”

What? Ada was speaking nonsense. She must be delirious. But a coil of curiosity churned into Ysabelle’s stomach. “I have often wondered why father insisted in betrothing me to Nicholas.”

“He knows the truth about your birth.”

Feeling the blood leave her face, Ysabelle fought off the shock. “How could Nicholas know? Why didn’t he tell me?”

Ada turned her face away, wiping her own damp eyes. “There is more, and I regret I must hurt you further. I never wanted to be the one to tell you the truth. I had hoped, if the day ever came when you must know everything, that Lord Nicholas or Father Edward would tell you.”

“Tell me what? Maston of Sutcliffe wasn’t my real father. What more hurt can you deal me?” Ysabelle asked in a croaking whisper.

Ada took a deep breath. “When he discovered that Lady Alys was carrying a child, Lord Maston was determined to raise you as his own. Because he didn’t wish to see you suffer the same fate his son had been forced to endure.”

Ysabelle shook her head. “My father had no son.”

“Yes, he did,” Ada spoke gently as she faced Ysabelle again. “Alys confided in me or I would never have known the truth.”

And suddenly, Ysabelle guessed the truth. She gasped, placing a hand over her mouth. Could it be true?

“Nicholas. He is Maston’s son,” she whispered.

Ada didn’t need to speak and Ysabelle could see the truth shimmering in the woman’s eyes. Ysabelle trembled, her heart aching. No wonder Nicholas was so adamant that he must remain here at Sutcliffe. It was his birthright. It was his home.

Now, she understood why her father had defied the king and betrothed her to a Scotsman. Now, it all made sense.

“Lord Maston was loyal and true, but he was still a man,” Ada told her. “Before he was betrothed to your mother, he had already created Nicholas with a married woman. The affair was fast and furious. After Mary Ramsay found that she was with child, she couldn’t keep it a secret from her husband. Archibald Ramsay was enraged. He’d been away at war and knew he hadn’t fathered the boy. But Mary was the mother of Archibald’s only son, Alexander. The Laird couldn’t put Mary aside. She was beautiful and almost as gentle as your own mother. Even though he hated what she’d done, Archibald loved her still. But he hated Nicholas, her bastard child.”

Ysabelle gave a shuddering sigh. Poor Nicholas. “But father never told me he had a son. Why didn’t he bring Nicholas here, to live at Sutcliffe with us?”

Ada clenched her eyes shut and she took a deep breath before letting out slowly. “That was Mary’s doing. Archibald and Maston had once been great friends and they fought together in numerous battles. Mary made Lord Maston promise never to disclose that he was Nicholas’s true father. Mary feared Archibald might murder Lord Maston if he knew.”

Ysabelle remembered Alex telling her that Mary had died unexpectedly and Nicholas had been sent away to live a life of brutality. “How did my father find out what had happened to Nicholas?”

“On Lord Nicholas’s sixteenth birthday, Father Edward went into Scotland to seek word of the young man. But Lord Nicholas had already been sent away years earlier. Lord Maston went to find the Scots Ram, to bring him home to Sutcliffe, but Nicholas refused to leave his brother and so he stayed with Alex. Instead, Lord Maston visited his son regularly. The two became quite close, a true father and son.”

“But why did father betroth me to Nicholas?” Ysabelle asked with dismay.

Blinking her eyes, Ada sighed deeply. “Because Lord Maston knew you were not related by blood, he wanted to finally unite his family. He hoped to make amends to a son he could never acknowledge while also providing for you, whom he had reared as his own child. He loved you both very much and wished to ensure that you both would remain here at Sutcliffe.”

Ysabelle understood now. Her father had often traveled into Scotland. She’d never questioned his mission and was always delighted when he returned with a special trinket for her. Now, she realized he must have been visiting his son, Nicholas Ramsay.

Absorbing the shock, Ysabelle closed her eyes for several pounding moments. Why had Nicholas not told her all of this?

She knew without asking. Like her father, Nicholas had sought to protect her. But his efforts had been wasted. And the sadness of it clogged her throat with pain.

Her arms trembled. Laying her head next to Ada’s, Ysabelle buried her tears against the pillows. As she breathed deeply, she caught her husband’s spicy scent and remembered every kiss, every caress, every pleasure they’d shared together. A hoarse gasp tore from her throat.

Ada caressed Ysabelle’s hair. “Don’t cry, dearest. Your father only sought to do what was right. He sought to protect you.”

“How Nicholas must hate me,” Ysabelle whispered. “I was left to enjoy the privilege and happiness of growing up here at Sutcliffe, with a father who showered me with love, While Nicholas suffered unspeakable trials.”

“No,” Ada cried. “Lord Nicholas cannot blame you for what happened. You were as innocent as he was. Your father thought the betrothal would make everything right again.”

Oh, what should she believe? Ysabelle only knew she was sick of war, and sick of lies. How could she face Nicholas now, knowing he belonged here at Sutcliffe while she was the outsider? She didn’t belong anywhere. She should be the one to leave. But she couldn’t. She had her unborn child to think of now.

No wonder Nicholas was determined to wed her at all costs. He was Maston’s true son. It was his right to rule Sutcliffe. If he had so desired, he could have refused to wed her and sent her away. Instead, he’d offered her a choice and taught her how to love.

He had won her heart.

“I’ll get you something warm to drink,” Ysabelle spoke as she stood to her feet. Her legs wobbled and she reached for the wall to steady herself.

Ada’s eyes crinkled with sadness. “Nothing has changed, dear Ysabelle. You are still lady of Sutcliffe and your one true husband is Lord Nicholas. It’s fitting that you give him a legitimate heir and break the curse that has befallen all of you.”

Yes, how appropriate, unless the Pope decreed their child a bastard. A bitter laugh slipped from Ysabelle’s throat. How cruel. A bastard for two bastards. Would none of them be legitimate?

Genevieve entered the room and Ysabelle left her to watch over Ada. Stumbling down the dark passageway, her palm skimmed the wall as she found her footing. As she clutched the rough wood siding, something within her hardened. All her life, she’d believed the blood of her stubborn father pulsed in her own veins. Now, her love for him did not falter. He had kept the truth from her so that she wouldn’t be hurt. To shelter her from a life of misery. She couldn’t fault him for that kindness.

But to find out the truth this way, it was too harsh, too brutal. The pain clawed her heart. She had to tell someone. To confide in them. She longed to run to the one person she felt complete with.

Nicholas.

An insatiable urge to be near him filled her to overflowing. She longed to pour out her heart to him, to be held in his strong arms. She wanted to hear from his own lips that he was Lord Maston’s son and that it didn’t matter that she was a bastard because he loved her, not for what she could bring to him, but because of who she was inside.

She needed to see Nicholas’s face, hear his voice, and smell his warm skin. She longed to feel him holding her close as he placed soft kisses against her temple. Nothing else mattered.

Hurrying, she ran to the lord’s chamber, where she went to the basin of water and washed the tears from her face. Darkness had fallen and she lit a candle so she could brush her long hair, tying it back before covering it with a veil.

She pulled a shawl over her shoulders and left the room. Down in the great hall, she saw the servants had already sought their beds, huddled together beneath warm furs along the wooden benches. The glowing coals in the fireplace winked at her as she padded across the floor. Opening the door, she stepped outside into the bailey. Torches flickered along the castle walls, lighting her way. Crossing the yard, she stepped over rubble left there by the catapults, and paused when she saw Alex leading his saddled horse out of the stable.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

He peered at her through the dark. His brows lowered in a scowl, his gaze angry as it raked her. Then, his expression softened and he pointed at her, then himself. “He is sending us away, you and me. It won’t be long before he must surrender the keep. Now that we know your handmaiden willna die, he has ordered me to depart with you in tow.”

Ysabelle’s breath stilled. “But we have more than enough water.”

“Yes, but we must soon eat our horses. Nicholas willna hesitate to do so, but he wants you gone from this place before it comes to that. He doesn’t want you to see his death. He wants you safe.”