makes no sense to me. To be grateful and to tell of your gratitude is not a weakness, Geoffrey,' Elizabeth pointed out in a soft voice. 'And the weak shall inherit the earth,' she quoted from memory, giving support from the Church for her argument.
'Meek!' Geoffrey bellowed. 'It is the meek who shall inherit the earth, woman. I am neither weak nor meek and I do not have any desire to inherit the earth.'
'I did not mean to imply that you were,' Elizabeth protested. 'I merely stated that-'
'Enough! Do not lecture me on what you know nothing about. God's truth, I have run out of patience with you. You have run me in circles since the day I met you and I will not have it. My life is ruled by discipline. Discipline! I know that word is foreign to your nature but I vow it will not be for long. Erratic actions, unplanned responses… these things can be deadly. Had I not happened on you this day, you would most probably be in Rupert's hands now. Have you considered that?' he asked. Yet before Elizabeth could consider her answer, Geoffrey asked another question of her. 'Where would you be now if the soldier holding the other end of your rope had been slain?'
'You wish me to tell you that I have acted most foolish?' Elizabeth asked, her voice low.
'I do not need to hear you voice what I already know,' Geoffrey corrected. 'I'll tell you this, wife. Your action with Roger… it was an act of courage on your part. Yet the other, your decision to be disloyal to me…' Geoffrey shook his head and then added, 'It is unforgivable.'
His voice was flat, and Elizabeth felt as if a sentence had just been pronounced on her future. Confusion clouded her thoughts. If her action was unforgivable, then what future did she have with Geoffrey?
'I have admitted to you that I was going to Rupert but that I changed my mind because it would have been disloyal to you,' Elizabeth responded. 'And you find that action unforgivable?'
'I do,' Geoffrey argued. 'You became disloyal the moment you left Montwright.'
'Perhaps you are right,' Elizabeth answered. 'Though I would not admit it to myself until after the deed was done. Then I turned around and was headed home when you chanced upon me.'
'It makes little difference to me when you acknowledged your disloyalty,' Geoffrey answered, his voice harsh.
'And you cannot find forgiveness in your heart?' Elizabeth asked. She felt shame that she had hurt him, knew that she had, though he would never admit it, and at the same time, nurtured a deep anger that he was so unbending in his reasoning.
'I do not know,' Geoffrey admitted. 'This has never happened before. Few have been disloyal to me and those that have I have killed. I have never allowed a soldier to be in my surroundings after such a foul deed.'
'Then how shall we go on?' she asked, trying to keep her voice as devoid of emotion as her husband.
'The past cannot be changed,' Geoffrey said. 'You will learn your duties as my wife but will not have my council,' he decided. 'Your first duty… aye, your only duty will be to give me sons.'
'Has it not occurred to you that I could have lied to you about my reasons for going to Rupert?' Elizabeth challenged. 'I could have told you that I was going to visit him and offer my comfort.'
'I would have seen through your lies,' Geoffrey answered, frowning.
'By being completely honest with you, I have doomed this marriage,' Elizabeth replied. 'Is that the way of it?'
'I do not know. I must think on this. I do not act in a rash manner like you.'
'While you are thinking, consider this,' Elizabeth said, letting the anger spill out in her voice. 'You have said you cannot forgive me. Now I tell you that I cannot forgive you. I gave you all my love, knowing full well you did not return the affection. I gave you my understanding, when you have exhibited none. I have admitted that my vow of trust to you wavered, but only because of another vow-foolish and vengeful though it was-made before. I gave you my body and my future, my honesty and my heart, and you talk of duty and discipline. You reject all I have to offer and demand what I most lack. Well, from this moment on, you shall have your discipline and your duty. I shall keep my love in my heart and not share the joy of it with you. I do not know if I can keep from loving you, but God's truth, I will try. You are a most unlovable man, Geoffrey, and I will remind myself of that fact in my daily litany.
'So be it,' Geoffrey answered, as angry now as she. 'Give me only what I ask, and we will do well with each other. Save the love and affection for our children. I do not need it.'
The saints were in sympathy, Elizabeth decided, for they nudged Geoffrey from the tent before she began to cry. She did not want him to see how hurt she was, how broken in spirit and motive. Her tears would just show him another weakness, another lack in her character. Until she had met Geoffrey, she had had no idea how many flaws permeated her being. Always she had been taught to look for the good in people, accept the flaws. Geoffrey had obviously been taught just the reverse. Find the flaw and attack… was that his way of thinking? she asked herself. She was too tired to consider her position now, too drained physically and emotionally. She pulled the wet garments from her body and draped them over the rope across the top of the tent while she tried to clear her mind of her torment. Wrapping herself in her cape, she huddled against the pallet and cried herself to sleep.
Chapter Eleven
All was in readiness. The attack on Rupert's holding would take place with the first light of dawn. Elizabeth would be well protected, with twenty men to see to her safety. There wasn't time to take her back to Montwright before confronting her brother-in-law.
Somehow the rebel had heard of Geoffrey's intent, the attack by the edge of the lake proved that theory to Geoffrey, and time was now critical. Rupert was no one's fool. Given enough time, he would muster a sizable army of discontented men to meet the challenge.
By the light of the moon Geoffrey walked around the lake, his hands clasped behind his back, while he thought out his plan of attack. The thought that perhaps Rupert's overlord, Geoffrey's equal in both strength and holdings, warned his vassal of the impending danger briefly entered the warrior's thoughts. Geoffrey considered the idea and then shook his head, denying that possibility. He knew Owen of Davies, admittedly not well, but enough to know that he would not betray Geoffrey's intent. Aye, Geoffrey had sent a messenger to him, explaining not only his intent in the matter, but more important, his reasons for his actions. Owen had responded immediately, stating by way of his messenger that he would not support his rebel vassal and offered to send men to lend Geoffrey a hand. No, Geoffrey thought again, Owen would go himself to confront Rupert had Geoffrey not decided to deal with the issue. Loyalty was as important to him as it was to Geoffrey.
Once Geoffrey had reviewed his plans for tomorrow's battle, his mind turned to his wife. He scowled into the darkness as he reflected on the harsh words he had exchanged with her. He knew he hurt her with his insults and accusations. The pain was there for him to see in her gaze. He had no wish to hurt her, he declared that much to himself, but thought that it was the only way to deal with her. Lord, she had taken chance upon chance without one pure thought to her safety. I would explain, she demanded impatiently. Ha! Geoffrey muttered, explain indeed! She jumped into the water with no inkling of how she would get out, placing all her faith in a single soldier holding the other end of the rope, never once considering that he might have been killed and unable to perform his duty to her, but had a quick speech all prepared if only he would listen. And explain too, she promised with her beguiling wide- eyed innocent gaze, just how she came to be in the middle of nowhere without benefit of his protection! Aye, Geoffrey concluded as he quickened his pace, that was the heart of the matter, the reason anger continued to grip him: she had ignored him, his position, his power, to go off on her own. She wasn't impressed with his might, his strength, his capabilities, so sure was she of her own ability to see her plans through. By all that was holy,
Geoffrey suddenly realized as he came to a stumbling halt, she didn't think she needed him.
The appalling realization gave his ego a stunning blow. Of course she needed him, he muttered to himself, she was puny in strength, innocent in deceit and treachery, and could not last a day by her own skills-except for the time she lived quite on her own, he reminded himself, before he had come to her aid. By God, she needed him now, he growled, she just hadn't realized that fact… yet. Oh, but her schooling was lacking! Would she never learn the way of things?
The frustrations of the day and the clutter filling his mind exhausted him. He resumed his journey around the
