Chapter Two
“Are you certain, John? The Crown agrees to this?” Diane asked, looking over at the note he held in his hands.
Haynsworth’s eyes snapped to his wife’s. Annoyance was evident in every line of his face.
“Aye. I had hopes to marry her off to someone, but not a damn Scots bastard,” he said, irritated.
“John, no one would have married Abby. She is not the same as she used to be.”
“Nonsense. She remains a virgin, which is heavily prized, and she still has a substantial dowry. She can bear children. Her mind is broken, Diane, not her body.”
“You talk of her as if she were nothing more than an animal, John,” Diane said hotly.
He turned his full attention on her and she backed down.
“She is of no use here. She has been mute for six years, and walks around without recognizing anything or anyone. Lord Seymour was interested in marrying her.”
“He’s older than what Lord Elliot would be this day, John!”
“Damn those MacPhersons! I would have those two estates on the border if they hadn’t killed Elliot,” he said angrily. “Now she owns all of his property. Elliot had no other family or heirs. Rather than it going to the Crown, she takes the property until she remarries, a concession the Crown made. How convenient,” he spat. “When she marries, her husband will oversee it. Abigail, someone who does not even know what season or year we’re in. And now, a damn Scots bastard will have the property after the marriage.”
Diane’s eyes narrowed and her lips were pinched. Her husband was cold, but she knew that first hand from years of backhanded slaps.
“What does the letter say?”
“It says that the relations between England and Scotland need to be further strengthened through a marriage. Abigail has been chosen because she’s our last remaining unwedded daughter and the Crown has chosen our family. If only Henry were older, these regents would cease to run this damn country into the ground!” John said bitterly.
“When is this wedding to take place?”
“In a month’s time. She’s to marry a Scottish laird, the clan unnamed. For the benefit of the laird, if no heir is produced within the first year of marriage, the marriage will be annulled and another English bride will be chosen.”
“Involuntarily? Not at the request of the laird’s family?”
“No. It will be involuntarily annulled. With any hope, Abigail is barren or the laird is less of a man than he’d like to think that he is.”
“If she’s barren, you cannot barter her off to anyone else, John,” Diane said heatedly.
Haynsworth moved to strike her but abruptly stopped when the door opened. A servant brought Abby in. Her long blond hair was in a messy braid. She was disheveled. Abby looked around her in a daze, not focusing on anything. Her face was bereft of emotion. Her once vibrant green eyes that had been alight with mischief and intelligence, were lifeless and vacant.
“Hello, my baby. How are you?” Diane squatted down next to where Abby now sat.
“She’s as dumb as a hound, Diane. Don’t waste your breath. On second thought, maybe the hound and Abigail aren’t so similar. At least a hound wags its tail when you speak to it.”
“She’s your daughter, John! Have some care.”
“She’s a damn nuisance, especially like this.”
“She wouldn’t have a broken mind if you hadn’t married her off to that vile man!” Diane said forcefully.
He backhanded Diane causing her to lose her balance and fall back. Her eyes flared with anger as she cupped the right side of her face.
“Don’t you speak to me like that, Diane. She learned her insolent behavior from you! It wasn’t Elliot’s fault that this occurred, it was those bastard MacPhersons!”
Abby began rocking herself and humming. She usually reacted in the same fashion in response to any loud noise or fighting.
“Lower your voice. I’ll not have her upset.”
Diane was on her knees passing her hand down Abby’s head. Her fingers caught in the tangles of her hair.
“Have you not wondered why he went to his border home that day? He had told you that his chattels were gone from both holdings. He had no reason to return.”
“I do not know, Diane, and I do not care. I’m leaving. Being in a room with both of you irritates me.” With a sneer, Haynsworth left.
Diane looked at her daughter, who continued to rock herself and hum. She was nothing more than a shell of her old self. There was no more careless laughter and no spark in her green eyes.
“Oh, baby, my sweet baby,” Diane said, brushing a lock back behind Abby’s ear. “I am so sorry.”
Abby stopped rocking herself and stopped humming. It was usual for her to self-soothe when she was near her father, even without raised voices. Diane took notice of that. Somehow, Abby had an awareness of when her father was present.
And he, apparently, scared her.