Page 49 of Knight of Chaos
Ingrid nodded. “War will do that to a person. I have seen and done… much.”
“So, you did catch up with the Empress’s army. Hiding your identity must have taken a lot of convincing on your part.”
A blush rushed across her cheeks. “I am afraid my ploy did not last for long. I was seen from the start for that which I am… a woman wielding a sword for a cause.”
“They knew you were a woman and still let you fight beside them?” he asked with wide eyes.
“Aye.”
“And you were not… harmed?” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees whilst waiting for her answer.
Ingrid swallowed hard. “I was given protection.”
“Protection? From whom?” he bellowed, coming to a stand and almost knocking over his chair.
“If you cannot keep your voice down and be civil, Charles, then this conversation will soon be at an end. I am too tired to try to appease the angry jealous thoughts running through your head.” She waited until he growled out a curse and then returned to his seat.
“Then by all means, please continue to tell me who offered you his protection,” he said through clenched teeth.
“His name is Theobald Norwood, Earl of Calbridge…” Her voice trailed off. Ingrid closed her eyes. This had been the first time she had said Theobald’s complete name and title aloud. She was almost disappointed when she opened her eyes once more and his was not the face staring back at her. She gulped before she finished her thoughts. “…and he is my husband.”
Charles’s face appeared as if he were going through a range of emotions from her words. Ingrid could not blame him. ’Twas hardly what he would have been expecting. She did not have long to wait for his anger to erupt.
“Husband? You are gone but a few months and you marry a man who’s practically a stranger even though you knew I was waiting for your return?” Charles shouted and slammed his fists on the arms of his chair. A crack echoed in the room from the force.
“I never asked you to wait for me—and I never gave you cause to believe I would return your affections. You know that I’ve always considered us to be nothing more than friends. I could never come to terms with our relationship becoming anything more than that,” Ingrid said calmly. She knew her friend was hurting and did not wish to rub salt into his wounds, but nor would she indulge his fantasies.
“But I love you!” He stood and began to pace the small room until he went to lean an arm on the mantle of the hearth. His head then rested on his arm.
She rose for her chair and went to him, placing a comforting hand upon his shoulder. When he looked up, his amber eyes were brimming with unshed tears. “Charles… I love you like a brother… nothing more,” she whispered.
“I had such hope for us, and now ’tis all for naught.” He straightened himself up and wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve. “I suppose one of those men you traveled with is this husband of yours?”
Ingrid shook her head. “Nay, he is not here.”
He scowled. “Do you love him?”
“Aye.”
“Then where is he? How could any man leave you to your own devices?”
She tried to think of the best answer. “He will be here soon.”
“You do not sound overly confident, and I believe there is more you are not telling me,” he said with a raised brow.
“My husband and I have much to… reconcile,” she softly stated.
“I will not ask for you to clarify what is going on that would cause you to travel without him.” Charles headed toward the door. “I do not think I can handle more today than what you have already confessed. Mayhap later we can continue this conversation when I have a clearer head. I do not wish to say something I may one day regret.”
Charles did not wait for her reply and instead left her there alone with her thoughts. Aye… there was still much to tell him, and she could only hope that her words that Theobald would be here soon would ring true.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Much of themorn had dwindled away until one of the monks had found Theobald and his men sitting outside beneath a tree. The man recalled Ingrid and the others staying for a night to get out of the rain. He had overheard Ingrid mention that they were heading toward Epping Forest and her farm on the eastern edge. So now Theobold at least had a direction in which to head—though inwardly he cursed knowing he had spent days backtracking when he could have taken the road to the right and arrived there possibly sooner. His gut instinct had failed him but at least now he knew where to go rather than wandering aimlessly. He would find his wife before the day was at an end.
They had wasted little time saddling their horses and getting back to their mission to find his wife. Soon she would be back where she belonged. That is, if he could only convince her of his feelings for her and her alone. She was a stubborn as he was. Clearly, they were made for one another.
The eighteen or so miles it took to travel to Ingrid’s village felt like ’twould take a lifetime. Time passed as it tended to do and soon, Theobald and the men arrived in the tiny farming community. Thatched cottages appeared in his vision, much like those they had already visited. But these seemed different because this time, Theobald knew that this had been Ingrid’s home. She had played here as a child and grown up here into the beautiful young woman she had become. His clear mind after the day before spent in prayer had helped Theobald let go of much of his anger with Ingrid for running from him in the first place. Now he was filled with hope that they could be happily reconciled.
