Chapter Three

History

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I was not so naïve as to think that all families shared the same rapport as my own. Yet the thought of a woman wishing harm on her brother, though not unheard of, was shocking to me.

"Your sister," I repeated faintly. Guy showed no sign of hearing me.

"The Lord knows I have treated her ill," he said, more to himself. Noticing mine and Marie's incredulous looks he composed himself. "I suppose you wish to hear the story. But where to begin?..." His brow furrowed in thought for a moment and I took the opportunity to reclaim my seat on the settle. The tale would be a lengthy one, I was certain, and as difficult to hear as to impart.

"With father away more often than not," began Guy at length. "I took his instruction to protect my mother and sister very seriously. Mother was…" He hesitated, smiling minutely in a way that was both fond and wistful. He suddenly looked very different from the intimidating stranger I had first met only last night. More human. "Mother was a strong, wilful woman, and shrewd. She had little need of my protection. But Isabella… She shared a strong bond with father, becoming subdued during his absences. I think he meant I should care for her in particular. And I did. For many years, I did."

"But then you were orphaned," I supplied, guessing at a turning point when he did not immediately elaborate.

Guy looked at me, startled, as though having forgotten my presence. He then frowned thoughtfully. "I suppose that was the beginning of it. How much do you know of the circumstances of my parents' deaths?"

I searched my memory for second-hand accounts. "Very little. There was a fire?"

"There was." Guy seemed about to say more, but checked himself. I was beginning to grow a little impatient.

"Rest assured, Sir Guy, none of what you say will leave this room."

He paused before sighing. "It was the year before Isabella and I came here. Father had returned from the Holy Land a leper." Guy's expression darkened. "My family's situation was tenuous enough prior to that point, but afterwards… With Bailiff Longthorne sniffing around the estate, I was afraid. But more than that I was angry. Angry at father for leaving us."

"How old were you?"

"Fifteen. And do not say I was too young for that kind of burden," interrupted Guy with a warning glower. "Father was barely a year older when he fought at the Siege of Damascus."

I found it difficult to keep my expression neutral. The truth was I pitied my cousin, and not so much for the weight of responsibility bequeathed to him at such a young age. Rather it was the implication that he had tried to follow his father's example, and failed.

"You said you were angry," I pressed.

Guy settled back in his chair, regarding me with the barest hint of curiosity as though having expected me to argue his point. He said nothing of it, however, his attention suddenly taken up by a loose thread on the sleeve of his tunic. "Meanwhile, mother was set to marry a neighbouring lord." Guy had wound the thread around his forefinger as he spoke, and tugged hard at the last word. The offending cord came away and was dropped disdainfully to the floor, where its vibrant blue colour stood out against the rush-strewn floorboards. "I went to the leper colony and raged at father, calling him a coward, urging him to fight for his wife."

I had to remind myself of what he had said earlier; of how he'd been afraid and angry, but my true feelings, this time, must have shown on my face.

"You disapprove," said Guy evenly.

"I was not there," I responded carefully. "I'm certain you had your reasons."

He made a sound of derision. "What reasons I had were entirely selfish, I know now. But that is of little import. What I'd said had struck a chord with father. He came to the manor, but was seen." Guy reached up a pale hand to knead his forehead. Whether to ease a headache or the pain of the memory, I couldn't be sure. "The rest is a blur. At the end of it, there was nothing left, and we – Isabella and I – had no choice but to leave. Yet I swore that day to take back my father's lands and avenge my parents' deaths."

"Avenge-?"

My intended query was cut short by a knock on the door. I turned to watch Marie go to investigate the disturbance and when my gaze sought Guy out once more, I found him standing before the mantelpiece as though examining the carvings there. His spine was rigid, his hands clasped firmly behind his back, and I knew then I would hear no more of his story today. My questions would have to wait.

The sound of the door shutting drew my attention.

"It was the seamstress' assistant, my lady," said Marie. "You're needed for the final fitting. For the gowns," she added at my puzzled frown. "For the Midsummer festivities."

"Of course," I said, though I had completely forgotten.

It struck me then how inconvenient my cousin's timing was. I would be joining the second of my sisters, Jeanne, at her home in Craon for the festivities, leaving in only a handful of days' time. Guy would either have to join me or remain behind in Mayenne under Jocelyn's supervision. Neither option was particularly appealing.

Marie interrupted my thoughts, informing me she'd directed the seamstress' assistant to bring the gowns to my chambers. I rose from the settle, levelling Guy, who had partly turned from the mantel to watch me, with an apologetic smile that felt strained.

"You'll have to excuse me, cousin. Feel free to remain here, or Guillaume's library is down the hall, last door to the left."

I noticed the hesitation before he bade me good day, and remembered the issue that had led to my being in his company.

"Sir Guy, you did not let me finish earlier. I assure you, my brother's guard is quite capable. You will be safe here."

His answering smile held more than a little bitterness. On leaving the solar, I realised he was doubtful of the guards' competence, and couldn't help but wonder what Isabella de Gisborne was capable of.

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TBC