Or perhaps he was having some kind of tantrum.
Frantically, she looked around for her brothers, but the mist made it difficult to see if they were around. She didn’t want them to charge Cole because a spectacular fight would result that she didn’t want to witness. No matter what she was feeling, or what he’d done, she didn’t want Cole injured by her angry brothers. But she couldn’t seem to make herself move, frightened into inactivity, as Cole began to pace around near the enormous iron pot that was boiling soiled bandages.
He looked as angry and terrifying as she had ever seen him.
“I want all of you who can hear my voice to listen to me and listen well,” he said. “These rumors that Alastor de Bourne’s daughter has traded her innocence in exchange for the release of the English captives is false. It is a lie perpetuated by small and feeble minds. I want to be perfectly clear about this, so any rumors you now spread will be countered with the truth. Nothing lascivious or untoward happened. But a great sacrifice did. It had to be explained to me before I understood it, so I tell you now that any man I find speaking against the daughters of Alastor de Bourne will meet my wrath. I do not care who you are or where you are – I will find you and I will cut out your offensive tongue.”
Shocked, Corisande began to tremble. She set the broth down on the ground and stood up, having no idea what to make of any of this. Cole was shouting loud enough for the Scots in Edinburgh to hear him, laying open a situation that had, since it happened, been whispered and sneered about.
But he was bringing it all to the forefront.
Corisande made her way out of the shelter, looking at Cole with surprise and apprehension. When he caught sight of her, he turned in her direction, his eyes locking with hers. A thousand unspoken words passed between them, words of sorrow and longing, fear and love, but he didn’t move for her.
Not yet.
He wasn’t finished.
“I have fought in many battles in my lifetime,” he said. “I come from a family of warriors and you all know that. The name de Velt is synonymous with battle. I have seen bravery that has impressed me and I have seen men sacrifice themselves for a cause, but I have never in my life seen more courage than I have seen from Corisande de Bourne. She is a lady of great character and bravery I could only hope to have, and I shamed her greatly by allowing myself to be sucked up into the filth that was being spread about her. But no more. She does not deserve what your dirty minds have cast upon her.”
His voice was echoing off the tents. Men were coming into view now, from all armies, listening to Cole as he bared his soul for all to hear. Corisande would have seen her brothers and father come into view had she not been so focused on Cole.
Here he was, making sure everyone heard him.
Making sure everyone, including Corisande, knew what was on his mind.
Making sure everyone knew what the just and right cause was.
“I will tell you now that it does not matter to me what Lady Corisande did or did not do,” he said. “Those with polluted mind will think what they will, but even if the rumors are true, one must look at the situation as a great and noble sacrifice. In battle, men sacrifice themselves for others. Men die for others. But with women… sometimes, their sacrifices go deeper even than that and they should be commended for it, not scorned. Being a captive of the Scots was a battle – make no mistake – and a woman fought back with whatever she had in order to save others. Be ashamed that any of you thought such a sacrifice was dirty or ruinous. Be ashamed if you looked upon the woman involved as less than noble, for I assure you, she is more noble than you could ever hope to be. I was wrong; anyone spreading such rumors was wrong. We were all wrong. We do not know the meaning of the word sacrifice or honor. But Corisande de Bourne does. She has lived it.”
Tears were pouring down Corisande’s face by the time he was finished. Cole had laid himself bare in the most brutal, beautiful way possible. His guard was down, his pride was gone. He was letting her know, and everyone else, that he had been wrong. That it didn’t matter what Corisande had done or hadn’t done. He loved her still.
And always would.
It was incredibly quiet when he stopped talking as thousands of men stood still, listening to Cole de Velt scold them. For those who spread the rumors, or spoke ill of Lady Corisande, they deserved it.
But for Cole, it was the public apology he needed to make.
Seeing Corisande standing on the other side of the boiling linen pot, several feet beyond it, Cole came around the fire, his eyes riveted to her. He could see the tears streaming down her face. As he looked at her, his eyes filled with tears also.
He didn’t try to stop them.
“Love is a funny thing,” he said, his voice softer now. “It can be the strongest of motivators, like the love between sisters or between husband and wife. But it can also be the cruelest of emotions when abused. I am sorry I abused it, Cori. Although I do not expect you to forgive me, know that I am sorry just the same. I was wrong. I do not care what has happened because my love is not limited to a woman who only does what I think she should do. It is unconditional when it comes to you and I am sorry that my actions, for a short time, proved otherwise.”
Corisande sobbed into her hand. “There is nothing to forgive, Cole,” she said. “But you did not have to champion me in front of the entire army.”
“Aye, I did,” he said, coming closer and lowering his voice even more. “I had to make sure they understood the truth. Surrendering my pride is my penitence for being so selfish and blind that I did not understand that true love is absolute. It knows no limitations, no boundaries. And this is true love, Cori. I will love you, just as I do now, until the end of all things. You are my queen, as you always have been, and I worship you. But I want to know one thing. May I ask?”
Corisande nodded. “Anything.”
“Where is Alexander MacDuff? I understand he was part of the contingent that captured you.”
There was hazard in his tone. Corisande sniffled, finally wiping at her face. “I do not know,” she said honestly. “He was accompanying the wagons as we headed out of camp. He was with us when you ambushed us.”
Cole reflected back to that short, violent event. “We did not leave anyone alive.”
“Then he must be dead.”
Somehow, that eased Cole’s mind considerably. The bastard who had forced that horrible situation upon Corisande and Gaia was dead at the hands of the Executioner Knights.
Perhaps there was a God, after all.
He smiled faintly.
“Now,” he said, “as I was saying, the battle is over and we have a wedding to attend to. I hope. Is this still true?”
She nodded so eagerly that her hair lashed her face. “It is.”
His smile grew. “Would you be opposed to being married in front of thousands of soldiers and about a dozen knights who would dearly like to witness the ceremony, your father and my father included?”
Corisande broke into a radiant smile. “I cannot think of anything more appropriate,” she said. “But are you certain? What about your mother and sisters? Will they not want to attend?”
He shrugged. “We will marry again at Pelinom for their benefit,” he said. “And my mother can throw a wild, lavish party for it. But right now… right now, I want to take you as my wife. I will not wait another moment to begin the rest of my life. With you.”