CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Scott found the messenger in the great hall just as he’d been told.
It was rather dark in the hall at this time of day, the hearth having died from the morning blaze and the constant haze of smoke lingering about the level of a man’s head. Scott entered the hall, pulling open the heavy, weathered door, immediately on the hunt for the messenger.
But it wasn’t any royal messenger; the man was a knight. Scott saw that the moment he approached the man who was sitting at one of the big, scrubbed feasting tables with a deck of wooden picture cards, several of them laid out before him. Scott wasn’t looking at the cards, however, even though they were a curiosity that was new to England. He’d only heard about them but he surely didn’t care to inspect them. He was primarily focused on the messenger, who didn’t look up until Scott was nearly on him. Then, he was startled and stood up quickly.
“Well?” the messenger demanded. “Where is de Wolfe? Or are you another one of his men coming to tell me that he is unavailable?”
Scott’s gaze was intense. “I am de Wolfe,” he said in a tone that left no room for doubt. “I understand you have been making demands of me and my men, and I am here to address your behavior.”
The knight’s demeanor changed dramatically when he realized he’d just been disrespectful to the very lord he sought. The arrogant man visibly demurred.
“Lord Bretherdale,” he said, taking a step back so he could bow in formal greeting. “I am Gillis Aston. My apologies for my rudeness, my lord, but since I have arrived, I have been told you were indisposed repeatedly. As much as that is your right, I am under orders from Edward. The king has ordered me to return with an immediate reply to the missive that I delivered to you.”
Scott maintained an expression that would have sent even the most stalwart man cringing. “So you resort to threats and bullying in order to carry out those directives?” he said. “I do not bow to the will of others, Aston, and certainly not to your will.”
“Do you bow to the king’s will, my lord?”
“That is a foolish question.”
Aston knew he was in a bad position and he struggled to maintain his respectful-but-firm demeanor. “I am merely reiterating that I am here on the king’s business and I have my orders.”
Scott’s gaze lingered on the man, not a crack in his stone-hard façade. “As do I, and I am quite certain they are more important than yours,” he said. “You do not make demands at Canaan, Aston. Do you understand?”
“Aye, my lord.”
“That is good. Because I have been told that you have heard the rumors regarding Lady du Rennic and have made mention that you would deliver this rumor straight to Edward in an attempt to leverage my response to his missive.”
Aston could see that Scott was incredibly angry; it was in everything about him. It was an increasing struggle to hold his ground.
“Without any message from you, my lord, I would have little choice but to tell the king what I have heard,” he said evenly. “But your man explained that Lady du Rennic is in no condition to travel because she recently bore a child.”
Scott’s eyes had a deadly gleam to them. “The woman has a newborn infant in addition to two very small children,” he said. “I am liege of Castle Canaan and that includes her occupants. I was also the liege and friend of the lady’s dead husband. I will, therefore, instruct you in this manner. You may tell Edward that Lady du Rennic will not be traveling to London because she is in no condition to do so.”
Aston nodded. “Aye, my lord,” he said. “But Edward will want to know when you feel she will be ready.”
“Not any time soon. Tell him Canaan is under my control and that he should not worry.”
Aston sighed faintly; it was clear that he wasn’t happy with the answer. “My lord, forgive me, but you know that Edward will require more of an answer. He will want to know when the lady will be ready to travel. If you could give me an estimate, I would be grateful.”
Scott pondered the question; the messenger was right. Edward would want more of an answer, especially since he already had a husband selected for the lady.
God Bones… Scott didn’t like that at all.
The more he thought on it, the more he couldn’t stomach the idea of Avrielle in the hands of a Scottish lord who was only out for the riches and political connections of Canaan. A political wife like Avrielle, with three small children as dependents, would be relegated to a life of loneliness and emptiness. She might even be abused, and her children… well, they would not live a pleasant life as their mother’s new husband would more than likely view them as unwanted baggage.
And Avrielle… it wasn’t fair that a woman of such feeling and beauty should be viewed only as property and nothing more.
Nothing more…
An idea occurred to Scott at that moment, so swiftly that it startled him. He told Avrielle that he would delay the king’s directive as long as he could. Certainly, he could tell the king that she wasn’t able to travel, but that would only hold out so long. At some point, she would have to go to London or her potential husband would have to come to Canaan. But… what if he told the king the lady was already married…
… to him?
It was madness, all of it. Perhaps it was impulsive of him, too caught up in the emotions that Avrielle had caused him to feel, emotions he was certain he’d buried long ago. But he’d been wrong… she’d brought something out in him he’d forgotten about, something that was starting to take over his senses. Was it his business that Lady du Rennic was to marry another? Of course it wasn’t. It wasn’t his business in the least.
But he couldn’t stand the thought of it, nonetheless. Why or how, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he couldn’t let her go to someone else.
He knew what he had to do.
“I want you to listen to me and listen carefully,” Scott said. “This is information that will only reach the king and no one else. If I hear you have spoken of it to others, I will find you and I will kill you. Is this in any way unclear?”
Aston shifted a little, nervously. “It is not, my lord.”
Scott took a step towards the man, staring him down with his razor-sharp gaze. “Then listen well,” he growled. “The lady’s husband took an arrow for me four months ago. Were you aware of that?”
Aston shook his head. “I was not, my lord.”
Scott cocked a blonde eyebrow. “The man gave his life for me,” he said. “There is something he spoke to me of on his deathbed that no one knows of, not even Edward. As he lay dying, Nathaniel du Rennic begged me to look after his wife and children. He asked me to marry his wife and take care of her. I have tried to ignore this request, but I find I cannot. I am honor-bound to fulfill it. The rumors of Lady du Rennic emerging from my quarters this morning were true because… because she is now my wife. You will return to Edward and tell him that. Tell him that I will soon come to him and tell him myself, but I have not yet had the time. Tell him that Castle Canaan and the Fawcett Vale are in my hands now, permanently. Now, repeat what I have told you.”
Aston was trying to keep the shock from his face. “That you made a promise to Nathaniel du Rennic upon his deathbed to marry his wife and you have. You will come to Edward when time allows and tell him yourself.”
Scott nodded shortly. “Excellent,” he said. “Now, get out of here. I do not want to see your face again.”
Without another word, the messenger picked up the wooden cards he had strewn about the feasting table and shoved them into his saddlebags. In fact, he couldn’t seem to move fast enough, trying to vacate de Wolfe’s presence before the man let loose on him. He could see the unpredictable nature in de Wolfe’s eyes and he had no desire to be caught up with one of the de Wolfes in defending himself. Especially not against the man known as the Black Adder, the de Wolfe that lived in the shadows.
He knew he would lose.
With his saddlebags in hand, his cloak, and his weapons, Aston pushed past Scott and practically stormed from the great hall. Scott would have felt some relief at his departure had he not seen Stewart standing just inside the door, stepping aside as Aston rushed out. Scott knew simply by looking at Stewart’s expression that the man had heard everything. Now, he was feeling cornered.
Guilty.
He had to think fast.
“How long have you been standing there?” Scott’s question was steady.
Stewart, looking the least bit shocked, was trying not to appear that way as he stepped towards him. “Long enough,” he said, clearly trying to figure out how to speak on what he’d just heard. “I was on the battlements when I saw you cross the bailey into the hall and I knew you were going to speak to the messenger. I came to see if I could help you in any way. I did not come in to eavesdrop, my lord.”
“I would never think that of you.”
“I am glad to hear that.”
An awkward silence followed. In looking at Stewart’s expression, Scott knew he had to explain himself. He motioned the man forward.
“Come here,” he said quietly. “Sit down. We must speak.”
Stewart did as he was instructed, planting himself on one of the splintering benches and looking up at Scott expectantly. Scott scratched his head thoughtfully before sitting down beside him.
“How long have you served me, Stu?” he asked quietly.
Stewart didn’t hesitate. “Nine years this November, my lord.”
Scott nodded faintly, thinking on everything that had happened in those nine years. “That is long enough to know a man,” he muttered. “You were with me when my two younger children were born.”
“Aye, my lord.”
“You were there when I lost them along with my wife.”
“Aye, my lord.”
Scott fell silent a moment as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he pondered where the conversation would go. For some reason, he felt like talking. He felt like telling Stewart everything that was on his mind, as if he couldn’t keep it to himself any longer. It was an extraordinary moment of weakness for him and he knew it, but he also knew Stewart. He knew the man would not judge him, no matter how foolish the conversation became. He glanced at the man.
“Your devotion to me has been admirable,” he finally said. “You remained with me after… after the accident when not every knight in my service did. Why?”
Stewart met his eye. “Because you did not need to be abandoned when you needed support the most.”
Scott sat up, rather touched by the statement. “That is a most compassionate attitude,” he said. “I never asked you why you remained with me, not once. I had eleven knights and all but you and Milo fled after Athena’s loss. Even the addition of Jean-Pierre and Stanley and Raymond… they were not my knights. Those were knights my father sent, knights you have mostly dealt with. In these four years, I have hardly had any dealing with them at all.”
Stewart was starting to realize that this was going to be a rather honest conversation, something that surprised him greatly. He hadn’t seen this level of honesty or interest from Scott since before that dark day those years ago. He’d seen a congenial, likable man transform into something that only he and Milo seemed to be able to communicate with. But even in that communication, Scott kept them both at arm’s length. As if there was no memory of the camaraderie before the accident, before the situation turned so terrible.
It was strict professionalism, cold and precise.
“It is the chain of command, my lord,” Stewart said simply. “They are junior knights and they understand their places, but they are loyal to you. We all are.”
Scott could see that Stewart was still maintaining the strict protocol, even in this rather relaxed conversation. That was because Scott always demanded such a thing, but in this moment, Scott didn’t much feel like that strict protocol. His guard was down. Human feelings were on the surface.
“Stu,” he finally said, his voice low. “I will speak on this subject once and then I will never speak of it again. I have never thanked you for staying with me. I have been through four years of hell, darkness as you cannot even comprehend, and there were times when the one constant around me was you. You were something familiar that I could always depend on, but I have never told you that. I do not know why I tell you this now only that it seems appropriate.”
Stewart’s formal manner was wavering. He’d not heard such things from Scott in the past four years and it concerned him. It seemed like a confessional of sorts. “My lord?” he asked hesitantly.
“Aye?”
“May I ask a question?”
“You may.”
“Are you dying?”
Scott looked at him. Then, he broke out into soft laughter, something Stewart hadn’t genuinely seen in years. He was stunned. But Scott shook his head.
“I am not,” he said. “I am not telling you this to clear my conscience. I am telling you this because it is the truth. Stu, you knew me before everything happened. What was I like? And be honest. Please.”
Stewart was torn; should he be honest? There was part of him that was terrified because Scott de Wolfe, since the death of his family, had been a volatile and unpredictable beast. But the Scott he knew before that tragic day… was it actually possible that it was that man who was starting to make a return? Stewart could hardly believe it.
“You were loved by all, my lord,” he said after a moment. “Every man adored you. Every man was your friend. Your father, your brothers, they all adored you. I knew a man of great charisma, of laughter, and of compassion. That was the man I knew.”
“And the man after the accident?”
Stewart lifted his eyebrows, less comfortable talking about that man. “A man who was deeply grieved,” he said, averting his gaze. “A man who was hoping he could erase his past and everything that he held dear.”
Scott’s humor faded. “Is he a hated man?”
Stewart shook his head. “Nay,” he said truthfully. “But he is feared. The Black Adder is to be feared.”
Scott pondered that. These were things he’d never spoken to Stewart about and he found the conversation cathartic. But he also found himself missing the men he had been closest to in life, men he’d run from because he couldn’t deal with his grief… his father… his twin brother… and so many others. Men who meant the world to him but men he couldn’t look in the eye, knowing the pain he’d caused them.
“Thank you for being honest,” he finally said. “I realize how difficult it must have been for you at times, but I wanted you to know that your loyalty has not gone unnoticed. I have pushed everything aside that brought me pain, suppressed memories that caused me to feel, and congratulated myself for my strength of will in such things. But it was more than that, Stu… it was more than erasing my past. It was erasing the memories of the pain in my father’s eye when he told me of my wife’s death and it was erasing the memory of Troy when I saw him collapse over it. Knowing I caused it all… a man cannot live with such guilt and not be changed by it.”
Stewart was listening intently. “But you did not cause any of it, my lord,” he said. “I was there. I saw what happened. I saw your father when he told you what had happened and I saw the grief in his eyes when you ran. My lord, if I may be perfectly frank – when you ran, you caused your father even more grief because not only had he lost grandchildren and daughters, he also lost a son when you left. And – forgive me, my lord – but I was not completely honest when I told you why I had remained with you. Mayhap it is not the right time to tell you this, but I feel I must. I do not want you to feel as if I have betrayed you, for surely, I have not. When you ran and I went with you, your father sent me a missive. He asked me to watch over you for him and should you ever need him, I was to send him word. And he told me that should I ever have the opportunity, I was to give you a message for him.”
Scott looked at Stewart in shock, but in the wave of emotion that rolled over his features came an expression of disbelief followed by something that could have possibly been fear. But he didn’t run and he didn’t become angry; something forced him to stay, to hold his ground against the message Stewart evidently bore.
“You have been my father’s spy?” he asked, attempting to clarify. “He has asked you to watch me for him and report back?”
Stewart shook his head. “Never, my lord,” he said firmly. “He never asked me to spy and he never asked for reports. All he asked of me was to watch over you and send word to him should you ever need him. I swear upon my oath as a knight, that is all he ever asked.”
Scott believed him. He was a bit unnerved knowing the truth, but he believed the knight nonetheless. “What did he ask you to tell me?”
Stewart didn’t hesitate. “That he loves you more than the sun loves the day and the moon loves the night,” he said softly. “You are his firstborn and no matter where you go or what you do, he will wait every day for your return. You are his son, my lord, and there are no words to describe the pride he has in you. He said to tell you that he will wait for you no matter how long it takes.”
Scott stared at him and, as Stewart watched, the man’s eyes filled with tears and spilled over. Quickly, Scott wiped a hand over his face, dashing the tears that continued to fall. He wiped and wiped, turning away from Stewart to compose himself but it was a long time in coming. The more he thought about his father, a man he adored, the more upset he became. Those feelings he’d suppressed for so long, those awakened by Avrielle, were bleeding out of his very pores and he was struggling to control them.
Papa… the great knight William de Wolfe was his father. But in truth, Scott hadn’t known how great his father was until he was a few years old. He had seen the way men behaved around him, with great respect, but to him, William was the man who would get down on the floor and roll around with him and his brothers, pretending to be defeated by their wooden swords.
When he grew older, William was a man of strict discipline but of great affection. Scott always wanted to be like him. But after the death of his wife and children, he realized he had failed miserably at that. Scott had always wanted to be a son his father took pride in. In spite of what Stewart told him, he wondered if that was true.
God, he missed the man.
“I have not been home in three years,” he finally said, taking a deep breath as he blinked away the last of his tears. “I am supposed to be the garrison commander at Wolfe’s Lair but I am sure my father has another commander by now. One cannot command a castle he never visits.”
Stewart knew that. “I am sure whoever is there is only temporary, my lord,” he said. “Rule Water Castle belongs to you.”
Scott nodded faintly, thinking of the rather big, imposing castle on the Scottish Marches that had been captured by his father many years ago. In fact, it had been one of the first battles Scott had ever participated in as a full-fledged knight. His father had taken it from the Scots and had promptly turned it over to his young and excitable son who had been wildly proud to command it.
Scott would never forget the feelings of gratification and delight in his first command. He’d loved the place, so much so that he had raised his family there. But when he’d lost most of his family, he couldn’t stomach returning. The more he thought on Wolfe’s Lair, the more he realized how much he longed to see it again.
Home.
It seemed that there were many feelings returning during this conversation with Stewart, feelings he should have been embarrassed over but he realized that he wasn’t. They made him feel human again. He turned to Stewart.
“Thank you for relaying that message from my father,” he said. “I suppose I understand that you could not do it until now. Until I was ready.”
Stewart nodded slowly. “I am glad you understand that, my lord.”
Scott eyed the man a moment before averting his gaze and wandering back over to the table, plopping his buttocks down on the tabletop near Stewart. Since the entire conversation between them had been bluntly honest, Scott was brought back to the very reason they were here. Something he’d said to Edward’s messenger was now back to the forefront in his mind and he found he needed to explain himself.
“Now,” he said. “There is something you must understand. I am assuming you heard me tell Edward’s messenger that Nathaniel du Rennic asked me, upon his deathbed, to marry his widow.”
Stewart nodded. “Aye, my lord. I heard.”
Scott shook his head. “It was not true,” he said. Then, he sighed heavily. “I do not honestly know why I said that other than the fact that the woman has been through enough since Nathaniel’s death. Understanding grief as I do, the last thing she needs is to be thrown into a marriage with a stranger, someone who will treat her like property. That is no life for a woman like Lady du Rennic. She deserves better than that.”
There was something soft in his tone as he said it and it occurred to Stewart that everything he’d suspected about Scott’s feelings towards Lady du Rennic were not, in fact, his imagination. Stewart had first suspected some manner of romance when the missive came from Edward and Scott had refused to obey it. But Scott had made a very good case for his reluctance to turn Lady du Rennic over to Edward and Stewart had believed him. He had no reason not to.
Now, however, Stewart knew beyond a doubt that Scott had feelings for Lady du Rennic. It was written all over the man, in his words and in his manner. Whether or not Scott realized it was another matter entirely, so Stewart was very careful in his response.
“So you have lied to protect her, my lord?” he asked.
There was that word again – protect – and Scott looked at Stewart sharply. He remembered yesterday in the solar when he’d explained to Stewart that he had not, in fact, been inclined to protect Lady du Rennic against Edward’s intentions. He’d given the man a rather believable story about wanting to show Nathaniel respect by allowing his widow to grieve his loss as long as she was able. But in looking at Stewart now, Scott knew the man suspected something. Scott wasn’t inclined to deny it any longer simply because he was tired of lying to himself as well as others. He knew now that he’d been lying for the past four years – lying about no feelings, no emotion, no hint of humanity.
It had all been a lie.
He didn’t want to lie any longer.
“Aye,” he finally said. “I lied to protect her because I do not want her to marry someone of Edward’s choosing.”
Stewart looked at him, curiously. “Then you will choose her husband, as her liege?”
Scott was looking at his hands. He seemed to be mulling over his answer. After a moment, he shook his head and looked away. “I do not know, Stu,” he said in all honesty. “I do not know what I am feeling. All I know is that I cannot stand the thought of that woman with another man. I have had a few conversations with her and she is unlike any woman I have ever known. She is strong and she is compassionate. She is also very beautiful. You suggested once in jest that I marry her and create a vast empire. Mayhap you were not so far wrong. Mayhap I should.”
That seemed fairly close to a confession as far as Stewart was concerned. Perhaps it was as they had all hoped and prayed; perhaps the Scott de Wolfe they had known and loved had not died on that horrible day four years ago. Perhaps he was still there, simply waiting to be reborn. Perhaps all it would take was a sad widow with three small children to make Scott feel alive again. Whatever it was, Stewart approved. In fact, he was vastly relieved.
“Whatever you decide, my lord, know that you have my support,” he said as he stood up. “Thank you for this honest conversation. I will treasure it.”
Scott looked at Stewart, seeing the loyal and stalwart man he’d known all of these years. He felt extremely fortunate to have him. More than that, he felt relieved that the man knew what he was feeling. He wouldn’t have to lie to him about it anymore, and there was comfort in that.
“As will I,” he said as he stood up. “I do not need to say that this conversation shall go no further.”
“You do not, my lord.”
“Good.” Scott began to move for the hall entrance, his eyes stinging from the smoke in the air. When Stewart opened the door, a blast of fresh, cold hair blew away the smoke and he blinked to clear his vision. “Make sure the messenger leaves tonight.”
“I will, my lord.”
Scott paused. “Speaking of leaving tonight, what about Jeremy Huntley? Is the man gone yet?”
Stewart shook his head. “You gave him a sound beating. He cannot even stand, so it will be a few days before he is able to leave.”
Scott grunted, displeased. “Keep him from my sight while he remains.”
“I will, my lord.” He hesitated. “My lord, they are without a physic at Canaan and Huntley’s beating was serious. If I may suggest…”
“I am not going to tend the man.”
“Nay,” Stewart shook his head. “I did not mean to ask you. But we have a surgeon that could see to him. If the man does not heal quickly, he cannot leave quickly.”
He had a point. Scott stepped from the hall and out into the muddy bailey, glancing up at the sky now that dusk was approaching. “Mayhap,” he said. “I will have to think on it. And on a more pleasant note, you will prepare an escort to depart at dawn tomorrow. I will need a wagon and forty armed men, plus you and one other. I do not care who they are, but leave Milo here in command.”
Stewart followed him into the bailey. “Indeed, my lord,” he said. “Where are we going?”
Scott glanced at him, seemingly fighting off a smirk. “To see a man about some flowers.”
With that, he left Stewart standing near the hall, scratching his head. But it didn’t take a genius to figure out that somehow, someway, that command involved Lady du Rennic.
Stewart would have bet money on it.