CONFESSIONS
"The audacity of that man! Keeping us locked up here like... like criminals. I can barely believe it! Just wait until Devereux finds out."
Dulcina was furious. She had been pacing the room almost constantly ever since Vaisey had left them imprisoned, and she showed no signs of stopping. Her angry chatter had accompanied her marching for some time as she fought to make sense of their predicament.
Roana, who had made a seat for herself on the floor with her back against the cool stone wall, closed her eyes wearily. While she understood and empathised with Dulcina's displeasure, she didn't have the energy to join the older woman as she railed against the Sheriff. She was tired, hungry, and thirsty, and she wished Allan was there. She longed for nothing more than to eat until she was full before curling up with her head on his chest and his arms tight around her while she dozed. He had the habit of running his fingers through her hair while she lay beside him, gently untangling knots with his fingers and smoothing strands away from her face. Roana found it irresistibly soothing. He made her feel cared for and protected; loved beyond compare. It was a heady sensation, and something she couldn't imagine ever tiring of.
Smiling to herself at thoughts of Allan, she opened her eyes to the draughty tower room, and reality hit her once again. She sighed in exasperation, and Dulcina paused in her pacing and glanced over.
"Is everything alright?"
Her expression was one of such concern that Roana couldn't bring herself to reply with sarcasm, despite the temptation. Instead, she raised her hands to indicate the room and gave a sardonic laugh.
Dulcina responded with a wryly bashful smile. "Well, of course." She shrugged, and then moved to join Roana, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor beside her.
"This isn't much fun, is it?" she commented, despondently, all signs of rage dissipated.
"Not really," Roana confessed. "Although we should have guessed that the Sheriff would find us eventually."
"True," Dulcina said, woefully. She curled her lip, her blue eyes suddenly ablaze with outrage. "Horrible little man. One day, he will get his comeuppance. I'll see to that myself."
"If we ever escape from this room," Roana pointed out, mournfully.
"Oh, we will," Dulcina said with certainty. She reached down to clutch Roana's hand, squeezing it tightly. "My son is coming for us. Your husband is coming for us, and your brother. They won't abandon us."
She spoke so fiercely that Roana was instantly convinced, which shocked her as she hadn't realised she'd been worrying. She drew her knees closer to her chest and wrapped her free arm around them. It was unnecessary to worry; of course it was unnecessary. If Allan didn't find them straight away, he would keep searching until he did. She didn't doubt him; not in the slightest. But her heart was in such a turmoil of emotions just lately, and it was difficult to apply simple logic to anything as a result.
It must be the baby, she thought to herself sagely. It was the only explanation.
"Of course they won't," she said, her tone slightly surprised. "I know that. I just hate waiting. I hate being imprisoned. By God's bones, I've been through enough of this at Vaisey's hands. I want to be free of him."
She made to scramble up but Dulcina gripped her hand more tightly, holding her down.
"Relax for now," she ordered, lightly. "There's no point in wasting energy until we have to." She looked towards the door. "And I'll need plenty when the Sheriff reappears."
Her tone had taken on a sharp edge, and when she turned back to Roana, her eyes had changed, hardened, and an almost zealous light flashed within.
Roana was taken aback, having never seen such quiet fury on the normally deadpan Countess's expression. "You really hate him, don't you? I mean," she shrugged, "I don't like the man one little bit. But for you..."
Dulcina smiled, grimly. "I detest him. He killed my Tom. My baby. He refused to offer him a trial, and instead, hung him like he was... like he was nothing." Her voice had risen along with her anger, and she paused, taking a moment to bring her emotions under control.
When she met Roana's gaze again, the hatred had faded from her blue eyes to be replaced by a deep sorrow.
"I have to avenge my son," she said, simply. She blinked back the emergence of tears. "You'll understand when you are a mother."
Roana took a deep breath and looked away. She already understood, for the baby growing in her stomach was of such importance to her that, at times, she wanted to cry. She couldn't ever imagine discovering that her child had been taken from her, and by such brutal means. Dulcina had not been a mother to either of her sons for many years, but it hadn't diminished her love for them. She had confessed as much to Allan in Scarborough, which he, in turn, had relayed to Roana. Upon learning of Tom's demise, the countess had been devastated, but her grief had transformed into rage upon learning of his fate at the hands of Vaisey, her husband's nephew, who she had always disliked. It stood to reason that she would be keen to exact revenge. Roana was certain she would feel the same way.
"What do you plan to do?"
Dulcina looked down into her open palms and then shrugged, eloquently. "I honestly don't know. Just seeing him brought to justice for all of his wrongdoings will be a start. I'm sure the king won't take his treasonous actions lightly."
"He may hang," Roana commented, and Dulcina sniffed noncommittally.
"It seems such an easy way out. But he deserves it."
She seemed downcast, and Roana squeezed her hand gently. "An eye for an eye," she murmured, keeping her tone neutral as the older woman struggled to contain her emotions.
Dulcina gave a bitter laugh, and then returned the pressure on Roana's hand. "It is the least he deserves."
They lapsed into companionable silence, sitting side-by-side on the cold, stone floor, and Roana looked towards the open window. A wind had set up, gusting about the tower, and one of the wooden shutters had begun to rattle against the wall. She wondered if Allan was close, hoping against hope that they would be reunited soon.
Suddenly restless, she rested her chin on her knees and curled her toes. She considered standing up to stretch her legs, but Dulcina was leaning against her and she didn't want to disturb the older woman.
Instead, she turned to her. "Tell me about Tom, and Allan." She needed the conversation to keep her mind occupied, and hopefully pass the time. She was also curious. Allan had told her of his childhood in London, and his father's abusive nature towards his family; she didn't need to hear of it again in that moment. But learning of Allan's nature as a youngster was suddenly paramount in her mind. "Tell me what they were like as children."
"Ah." Dulcina smiled indulgently, and her face was instantly transformed, her blue eyes lightening and a soft smile curving her lips. "My boys. I never forgot them, you know? They were always in my heart, no matter the distance." She rested the back of her head against the wall and turned her gaze upwards, lost to her memories. "Allan. Oh, he was my angel. He took after me, in looks and in personality, and we were close. So close. He was my shadow, constantly by my side. Maybe it was out of love, but later, as he grew older - well, he wanted to protect me too. He could see what was happening." A shadow crossed over her face and she paused for a moment before continuing. "Tom, on the other hand." She let out a peal of laughter, and sighed in bittersweet remembrance. "As soon as he was born, he was trouble. My little rascal. Always getting into scrapes, and noisy too! But he was so loveable, and had the cheekiest of faces." She smiled fondly. "Oh, my baby Tom. If only I'd stayed. Maybe things would have turned out differently."
Roana, who knew of the events that had led to her departure, squeezed her hand again. "Or maybe you'd have been killed."
Dulcina gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Maybe," she said, despondently. "Or maybe he'd have lived."
"You can't think like that," Roana told her, fiercely. "It's all in the past now. You had to leave. Henry gave you no choice."
Dulcina looked at her and gave a small smile. "Allan told you."
It was Roana's turn to give a one-shouldered shrug. "We have no secrets. And he has forgiven you. Maybe it's time you forgave yourself."
"It's true," Dulcina said, faintly. "Henry did leave me with no choice. I waited for the boys, sent word to them to join me. But Henry intercepted the messenger." Her voice was suddenly bitter. "He tracked me down, told me the boys didn't want to see me again. He attacked me, forced me..." Her voice trailed off momentarily as she struggled with her emotions. When she spoke again, her tone was stronger. "He hurt me very badly and left me for dead. It took me months to recover from what he'd done to me. And I stayed away, more from fear than anything else. Fear of what he'd do to me. Fear of hearing the boys tell me themselves that they hated me, as he'd said. I should have known it was all lies."
Her voice trailed off and she looked downwards into her lap, chewing on her bottom lip.
"Well, I think you're very brave," Roana declared, stoutly. "You did what you thought was best at the time, to save yourself. You genuinely believed what Henry had told you. And now, you're making it up to Allan in the best way that you can. And I know he loves you."
Dulcina made a strangled sound, half laugh and half sob, and pushed into Roana with her shoulder, affectionately. "And I'm going to continue making it up to him. He'll never want for anything ever again."
Roana laughed along with her, before remembering William. A chill ran through her as she realised that the moment had come to break the terrible news. She didn't want to, didn't want to ruin the intimacy between the two women, but she couldn't keep it quiet any longer; she had to come clean.
"Actually, Dulcina. There's something I... I really need to tell you." Her tone was hesitant, and imbued with a seriousness that caused Dulcina to immediately stop laughing and stare at her, wide-eyed.
"I—" Roana broke off and withdrew her hand from Dulcina's, cramming it into her lap and clenching it with her other hand. She took a deep breath and started again. "Something awful happened at Dürnstein. Something I regret with all of my heart, but ultimately had to do. I was left with no choice."
Blinking fiercely, she forced herself to meet Dulcina's gaze and continued bravely. "It's about William."
Dulcina raised her eyebrows, her countenance once more unruffled. "William," she repeated, reflectively. "Is this about his death?"
"You know?" Shocked, Roana scrambled to her feet and moved away, unable to hide the guilty expression on her face. "But you didn't mention anything. I wasn't sure if you were even aware. Please know that I am so, so sorry."
Dulcina followed her suit and rose too, but stayed in place. "You're sorry for what? I have no idea what happened, only that he was killed in action. Devereux is naturally devastated, but neither of us were surprised, in all honesty. The repulsive man probably crossed the wrong person."
From across the room, Roana turned to face her, stricken. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing issued forth, and all she could do was stare at the other woman mutely, her face pale.
"Roana!" Dulcina took a step towards her. "What is it?"
"It was me," Roana said in response, her voice so quiet that, at first, she wasn't sure if Dulcina had heard. She cleared her throat and tried again. "It was me. I did it. I'm so sorry."
She began to cry in huge, wracking sobs as she felt the weight lift from her shoulders at her confession, which had been playing on her mind for such a long time. Relief washed through her, but with it came a sharp edge of regret and trepidation. How would Dulcina react? William had been her stepson, after all. Surely she would be furious.
Roana fought to contain her sorrow, wiping the tears from her eyes. She regarded Dulcina fearfully, waiting dutifully for the consequences of her admission.
But Dulcina surprised her, hurrying to her side, worry etched on her features. She placed a comforting hand on Roana's back and began to rub in soothing circles. It reminded Roana so much of Allan that she burst into fresh tears.
"Oh, my darling. I feared something like this may happen one day. Tell me about it."
And in halting, sorrow-filled words interspersed with deep, wretched sobs, Roana recounted everything that had happened in the tower room in Dürnstein; how awful William had acted, how he and Allan had fought, and that heart-stopping final moment, when she had almost lost Allan forever.
"I had to save Allan. I had to," Roana said, suddenly adamant as she relived the events in Austria in her mind. She dashed the moisture from her blue eyes, and felt the misery suddenly drain from her, leaving her composed. "William didn't suffer. The arrow struck him straight through the heart, and he died instantly." She looked at Dulcina, her emotions once more firmly in check and her voice level. "I'm so sorry. I do regret what I did, but I will always choose Allan over anyone else."
Dulcina was staring at her in amazement, and for a brief moment, Roana faltered, wondering if she'd gone too far. But then, the older woman grabbed her, pulling her into a tight embrace.
"And I'm so glad about that. You brave, brave girl. Allan is so lucky to have you." She drew back, holding Roana at arms length so she could look into her eyes to communicate the sincerity of her words. "Don't you worry about a thing. I'll explain everything to my husband. He'll understand."
"But... but.." Roana was blindsided. Agreeance was the last thing she'd expected. "Devereux's son. His heir!"
"Oh." Dulcina suddenly looked bashful. "That isn't a problem."
She smiled, luminously, and was about to continue when there came the sound of loud voices on the staircase outside the room.
Both women were suddenly alert, their attention focused on the oak door as the voices drew closer. One voice, strident and argumentative, was recognisable.
"Marian," Roana whispered as a key clattered in the keyhole and the door burst open, emitting a furious-looking Marian, who stumbled into the room, having been shoved by the Sheriff. He followed her nonchalantly, and feigned shock at seeing Roana and Dulcina.
"Ah. Lady Roana and the countess. Fancy seeing you here."
"Oh, you..." With what could only be described as a snarl, Dulcina launched herself in Vaisey's direction, but Roana grabbed her arm as two guards appeared in the doorway behind him.
The Sheriff regarded her with mild surprise, a smug grin plastered across his face. "What was that, Countess? "Oh, you"? Would you like to finish that sentence in the presence of my guards? Shut the door and lock it." The latter was snapped over his shoulder at the guards, who obeyed.
"What's happening?" Roana asked Marian.
"Robin's on his way," Marian replied, glaring at Vaisey. "But he wants a safe way out of Nottingham. And we," she gestured at herself, Roana, and Dulcina, "are his hostages. Again."
Dismayed, Roana turned to look at the Sheriff, who strolled into the centre of the room, looking inordinately pleased with himself.
"She's absolutely correct. You ladies are my ticket out of here. And if anybody stands in my way, then you will pay."