I prayed he was unconscious so he’d have blessed relief from his pain. Although I wished I could see him, Eldridge had taken the torch, leaving us in utter darkness.
If I’d loathed my time in Lord Pitt’s dungeons, this was ten times worse. I could do nothing to stop Eldridge from torturing Aldric. I knew it was only a matter of time before Eldridge came back. Next time he’d probably torture Aldric more painfully—perhaps bringing the thumbscrews or foot roaster.
Eldridge was experienced enough to realize when he needed to stop and give his prisoners a break so he didn’t kill them too soon. He was also patient and would keep working until he extracted the information he wanted.
At a soft moan from Aldric’s direction, I scrambled to the bars that separated our cells. “Aldric,” I whispered, fresh trails of tears streaking my cheeks. “I never meant for this to happen.”
From the scraping of hay, I guessed he was attempting to sit up. “Don’t blame yourself, Olivia,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
“If I had stayed on your horse instead of getting down . . .”
“If I had stayed with my men instead of leaving . . .”
We were both silent, letting our regrets settle around us as cold and musty as the air.
“I am overly stubborn and need to listen to reason,” I finally said.
“And I am overly protective and need to stop letting fear run its course.”
“No, Aldric—”
“I let my fears drive Giselle away,” he stated softly.
My protests fell away. If he was ready to share this part of his life with me, I wanted to let him.
“Our families were allies,” he continued. “Giselle and I were friends while growing up. She was delicate and lovely, and I thought I could make her love me the same way I did her.”
At the thought of Aldric loving Giselle, of talking and laughing with her, of wooing her the way he had me, my heart pinched with jealousy. It was irrational and petty, nonetheless I could not prevent it.
“She tried to love me,” he said. “She wanted to. But her feelings never matched mine. The more I tried to make her love me, the more she pulled away. My mother warned me to be patient, but I refused to listen. I thought if we only spent larger amounts of time together, if I tried harder to win her, she’d come to love me.”
“You are difficult to resist,” I said, hoping to ease his inner turmoil. “Your charm knows no bounds, especially when you nearly kill, capture, and chain a woman to your personage.”
“Yes, that kind of charm is very difficult to resist,” he said wryly.
“You are even more appealing when you strike a bargain with your master and give your prisoner one week to wed you or face a hangman’s noose.”
“I’m quite the charmer, am I not?”
“Quite.”
Silence settled again. My thoughts filled with Giselle. If I’d been in her position, I would have worked harder to love Aldric in return, not pulled away from him. Even if he’d been overprotective, like he had with me on the boar hunt, he’d meant well and surely would have learned to let go a little at a time.
“We will all make mistakes,” I said choosing my words carefully. “Some people ignore their mistakes, too proud and unwilling to accept their faults. Others let their mistakes rule over them with an iron fist, becoming a slave to the past. And still others allow their mistakes to push them to change, letting the past strengthen their choices for the future.”
He was quiet.
Had I spoken too forthrightly? As soon as the question entered my mind, I discarded it. If he had opened up to share about his past, then I’d take that as permission to speak candidly in return.
“I’d like to learn from my past mistakes so I don’t repeat them,” he finally said. “But I fear I am a slow learner.”
He expelled a breath that ended in a half-moan that he attempted unsuccessfully to smother. Eldridge had probably broken Aldric’s ribs.
The merest remembrance of Aldric’s torture sent a shudder through my body again along with burning hatred. With every lash across Aldric’s back, my loathing for my father had swelled until it threatened to choke me. “Perhaps I am a slow learner as well in regard to my father.”
Aldric didn’t contradict me. I hadn’t expected him to. He was an honest man and had never attempted to win me with false flattery.
Even so, my words were bitter against my tongue. I hadn’t wanted to admit that Aldric had been right about my father’s selfishness. I wanted to go on believing that even if I was a daughter and not a son, Father still cared about my well-being, loved our family, and wanted what was best for us. But how could I deny his selfishness any longer? “I have not wanted to think ill of my father, but now I cannot think anything but ill.”
Sorrow pushed into my throat, forming a tight lump. I’d hoped my loyalty would cause Father to be proud of me, show him I was worthwhile, make him love me. But he hadn’t reciprocated my loyalty or love. I saw the reality now more clearly than ever before. If he loved me, truly loved me, he would have come after me much sooner and would have paid the ransom for my life no matter how much it cost him. Instead, he’d put me in a dangerous situation and hadn’t cared about what I was experiencing.
As long as I was available to marry Lionel Lacy and seal an alliance with the marquess, then that’s all that mattered. In fact, he’d seen me as dispensable enough to consider forcing Isabelle in my place if I didn’t survive.
No, my father didn’t love me. And he didn’t show any loyalty to me, except for what might benefit himself.
“I’m sorry, Olivia,” Aldric replied as though sensing my grief.
“I just wanted him to love me,” I said.
“I know.”
Our conversation was shortened by the slap of footsteps on stone and the advancing glow of light. Someone was coming, and I prayed it wasn’t Eldridge again. Aldric wouldn’t survive any more torture. I’d have to figure out a way to turn Eldridge upon me. Perhaps if I got him to open my cell door, I could try to overpower him again.
I tensed and used the bars to rise to my feet. As the light brightened, I was able to see Aldric and then wished I hadn’t. The flesh on his torso was red and raw and bleeding in countless places, including the cuts on his legs where my father had sliced him.
A guard approached with the torch. At the sight of Cecil limping behind him, I sagged with relief that we would have a longer reprieve from Eldridge’s torture.
Ignoring Aldric, Cecil approached my cell. He carried a tray which contained a mug along with a piece of coarse bread and a slice of cheese.
“It’s all your father would allow,” he said as he handed the mug through the bars.
“Give it to Aldric.” I pushed the drink back at him. “He needs it more than I do.”
Cecil slipped the bread and cheese through my bars too. His diminutive stature and misshapen limbs belied his strength. If he’d wanted to overpower the guards and free me and Aldric, he could have. Something in his eyes warned me against the possibility.
“Your father only permitted me to give you this small meal because I reminded him you must stay strong and healthy for the marquess’s son.”
I wanted to throw the meal against the wall and send a message back to my father—the message that I no longer planned to marry Lionel Lacy, that I no longer cared about being loyal to our family. How could I be loyal to a man who put his own needs above anyone or anything? Above family. Above the king. Above the country. And perhaps even above God himself.
Loyalty wasn’t a birthright. It was earned. And as much as it pained me to think of cutting myself off from Father, I had to stop living my life to please him and earn his favor. Instead, I had to live in allegiance to God and His ways first.
I’d justified my stealing and sneaking and cheating for my family, for Father. But surely true loyalty wouldn’t require someone to betray their own integrity. Surely true loyalty showed steadfastness, nobility, and goodness.