Brooke flashed a happy grin, thrilled with her mother’s approval. “What are you going to do now?”
Gray sighed, her amber gaze lingering on the bailey beyond the door in the hope that she might catch a glimpse of her husband with the broom. “Rest, I suppose,” she said. “There isn’t anything for me to do and I feel rather useless.”
Brooke’s smile faded. “You are not useless, mama. Braxton simply doesn’t want you to work. This is my keep now and I should be doing all of the work, anyway.”
Gray smiled faintly at her daughter, stroking the young woman’s blond head before moving to the stairs. Just as she did so, Dallas suddenly came bolting through the keep door with the broom in his hand. He smiled sweetly at his wife, completely ignorant of the fact that his mother-in-law was standing on the stairs just to his left. He had eyes only for Brooke.
“Greetings, Lady Aston,” he said jovially. “I have come to sweep your floor.”
Brooke blushed furiously as Gray chuckled. “Is this the type of strong, young help you had in mind, Brooke?” she asked.
Brooke’s gaze moved between her mother and her husband. “Well… aye, I suppose,” she was growing increasingly embarrassed. She focused on her husband. “You do not have to sweep the floor. I can do it. I thought Braxton was going to have one of his soldiers do it.”
Dallas winked at her. “I am one of his soldiers,” he said, glancing over at Gray on the stairs. “Good morning to you, Lady de Nerra. ’Tis a fine day.”
He was far too cheerful, more so that Gray had ever seen him. The serious young knight had sprouted a lively personality and bright grin in the past few days. She repressed the urge to laugh at his giddiness which she could only assume had been brought on by the appearance of his wife. It was sweet and hilarious. She smiled at the young knight as she continued her trek up the steps.
“Aye, it is,” she replied. “Enjoy sweeping the floor.”
Dallas watched the beautiful woman disappear up the stairs before turning to his wife. She gazed up at him adoringly with her luminous blue eyes.
“You really do not have to sweep,” she said quietly. “I can do it just as well.”
His smile grew warm. “But I want to do it. It gives me an excuse to be close to you.”
She batted her eyelashes sweetly at him and he took her hand, leading her back into the hall which was now completely empty. The dogs were snoring in the corner and the hearth was snapping dully with a low fire. Dallas took her over by the hearth and sat her down on the great table that had been strongly reinforced in the past few days.
“Sit,” he commanded softly as he began to sweep. “Tell me how your day has been so far.”
She sat obediently and watched him sweep. “It has been well enough,” she told him. “The cook and I inventoried the stores this morning. I fear we will be out of white flour in a few days.”
He glanced up at her as he swept the old rushes and food into the hearth. “We must remedy that.”
“Can we go to town?”
He shook his head. “You will stay here,” he said. “I want you here where it is safe.”
She was disappointed, sitting somewhat dejected as he continued to sweep. “It is not that safe here,” she said pointedly. “The walls are falling down and if someone was truly intent on breaching this place, they could.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Have you not seen the grounds lately?” he asked, incredulous. “My soldiers have been repairing night and day. The walls are being rebuilt, madam, along with everything else. Both portcullises are now working. Erith is returning to her former glory as we speak.”
She made a face. “I have not been outside as of late,” she admitted. “I have spent most of my days in the kitchen or here in the hall. Have you seen how nice the keep looks?”
He could see that the rebuilding of the castle didn’t impress her nearly as much as the living space that she was in charge of. He smiled at her. “It is an amazing transformation,” he assured her. “You have done an exceptional job.”
Brooke smiled bashfully. “Do you think so?”
“I do.”
Her smile deepened. “Do you think it would be too much if we were to get some fine chairs for the hall? And perhaps even rugs if we have enough money?”
He nodded. “Perhaps,” he replied, sweeping briskly. “We shall have the finest keep in all of Cumbria someday.”
She looked down at her fingernails, picking at them. “I was hoping that… well, hoping that…”
He looked at her when she didn’t finish. “Hoping what?”
She shrugged, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Well, I was hoping we could go shopping in town together to purchase flour and other fine things for our keep,” she continued picking at her nails. “I do not see much of you while we are at Erith. When we travel, it seems as if I see you a great deal. You always seem to be near me.”
He paused after sweeping a pile of crumbs into the hearth. “I am sorry,” he suddenly didn’t feel like sweeping anymore and went over to sit next to her. “Things are very busy at Erith these days. If I had a choice, I would certainly not spend my time away from you. But it is necessary. The castle and her walls must be fortified.”
She gazed up at him, smiling faintly. “I know.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “We must repair the fortress as much as possible before Gloucester comes.”
She suddenly looked fearful. “Will he really come?”
Dallas shrugged, realizing he didn’t want to frighten her more than she probably already was. “It is entirely possible. In any case, we must be prepared.”
She looked up at him a moment longer before timidly laying her head against his broad shoulder. Dallas dropped the broom and wrapped both arms around her fiercely. He hadn’t even been married to her for a week yet he felt such excitement and contentment when she was in his arms, it was as if he had been dreaming of it all of his life. Brooke’s innocence, her beauty, her sweetness touched him like no one else ever had. The beautiful wild rose he had once imagined her to be was taming admirably. He still had trouble believing it.
“Do not fret, love,” he murmured into the top of her blond head. “Erith will be strong. Our fortress will not fall.”
She responded by wrapping her arms around his waist, tightly. “I do not care about Erith so much as I care about you,” she whispered. “I have never seen a battle before until the day we returned from Milnthorpe. I am afraid for you.”
He smiled faintly, pulling her closer. “No need,” he said softly. “All will be well.”
She lifted her head and looked up at him. “But how do you know? Those men will be trying to kill you.”
“Men have been trying to kill me for five years. No one has yet succeeded.”
She frowned at him, unhappy. “That does not mean that your luck will hold out forever,” she was sorry she said it even as the words left her mouth. She climbed onto the bench, her knees on the wood and her body pressed up against her husband. While she toyed with his shoulder-length hair, Dallas kept his arms wrapped around her slender torso.
“I just do not want anything to happen to you, ’tis all,” she insisted softly. “I am worried.”
He sighed faintly as he rubbed her back affectionately. “I appreciate that, but you must not worry,” he assured her. “I can do well for myself.”
She smiled timidly, accepting his kiss by throwing her arms around his neck and strangling him. It was becoming quite a habit with her and he laughed softly in his throat even as his lips fused to hers.
“Can I please come to town with you?” she asked, her mouth against his.
“Nay,” he murmured as his lips suckled hers.
“Why not?”
He was becoming upswept in the lust and passion that seemed to explode whenever he took her in his arms. He was in the process of tasting heavily of her when he heard a soft cough behind him. Somewhat startled, he turned around swiftly to see Braxton standing several feet behind him
.
Braxton’s expression was grave, a far cry from the jovial man from just a few minutes prior. “I am sorry to intrude,” he said, looking at Dallas. “You will come with me.”
Simply by the man’s tone, Dallas didn’t ask questions; he went immediately to Braxton’s side, followed by Brooke. But Braxton grasped her by the elbow before she could follow them.
“Nay, lady,” he said softly. “You remain here. I only require your husband.”
Brooke’s big blue eyes followed her husband and Braxton from the keep. When they had quit the keep, she reckoned it would not hurt if she were to go to the door and see where they were going. So she moved to the open entry and stood there, watching them as they disembarked the staircase and headed towards the inner gatehouse.
Brooke watched them move towards a cart that was parked just inside the gatehouse, surrounded by several of Braxton’s men. There was a buzz going about as more men dropped what they were doing to come and view the contents of the cart. As men moved aside to allow Braxton and Dallas access, Brooke suddenly saw what had them so interested.
The cart was full of dismembered body parts: arms, legs, torsos and heads. It was blood and carnage like she had never seen and Brooke’s horror was full blown.
Dallas heard her scream from the keep.
*
“What do you plan to do, Braxton?” Gray’s voice was soft with concern.
Braxton gazed down at his wife and daughter; Brooke was cradled against her mother’s chest, sobbing softly. Gray was composed as she comforted her daughter but there was fear in her expression. She was remaining strong for Brooke’s sake; the young woman was positively distraught and for good reason. Gloucester had sent back the men who had escorted the bodies of Roger and William home back in pieces. The mood surrounding Erith was now dark and somber; bad tidings were in the air. What they had feared was upon them.
“You will not like my answer,” Braxton sighed faintly. “Gloucester sent three of my men back dead but left the fourth man alive to deliver a message. I am not going to sit here and wait for Gloucester to come down around us.”
Gray lowered her gaze, rocking her daughter gently as the great hall filled with pregnant, horrible anticipation in the wake of Braxton’s statement. She could hear men outside shouting and sounding extremely busy; she didn’t want to look outside to see what they were doing. She had a suspicion. Braxton’s reply only increased her anxiety.
“Tell me what you are planning,” she begged quietly.
Braxton heard footfalls entering the hall, glancing to Dallas as the man entered the room in full battle armor. He turned back to his wife.
“I ride for Elswick Castle, the seat of Roger de Clare,” he said quietly. “I will lay siege and take the castle a prize.”
Gray didn’t say anything; she simply closed her eyes and held her daughter tightly. She knew of Elwick Castle, the formidable bastion inhabited by the de Clares. As Dallas reached down to gently pull Brooke from her grasp, Gray stood up to face Braxton.
“Braxton,” she murmured. “I would never dream of interfering in military matters, but you surely know that an attack upon Elswick is a critical undertaking.”
He put his arm around her, leading her away from where Dallas was comforting Brooke. What he needed to say was for her ears alone.
“You must understand something so there is no mistake,” he lowered his voice as they made their way towards the keep entry. “The bodies of those men returned from de Clare were only the beginning. Gloucester plans to attack and he will do to every man and woman at Erith what he did to my soldiers. He will destroy us.”
By this time, Gray had come to a stop, gazing at him with incredible fear. She was struggling to keep the tears at bay. “So you plan to attack them first?” she hissed. “How will attacking Elswick make any difference?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “It will make a difference because I intend to confiscate Elswick and hold the remainder of Roger’s family hostage as a guarantee that Gloucester will leave Erith alone.” As Gray watched, Braxton suddenly turned into the calculating mercenary before her very eyes. She had never seen this side of him, ever. “I might return the wife at some point, but I will keep the children as insurance against de Clare’s good behavior.”
She stared at him. “Oh… Braxton,” she sighed heavily, feeling ill and saddened. “You would do this? They are only children, after all.”
“Gloucester would do the same and not give it any thought. The man will know the meaning of what it is to be ruthless before I am finished with him.”
Gray could see the cold-blooded killer in his eyes and it frightened her; she’d only known the man to be sweet, warm, and generous. The transformation was shocking. But upon reflection, she knew that Braxton was the most feared mercenary in England. She was beginning to see why. After a moment, she sighed heavily and looked away.
“I will not tell you how to conduct your business, for these are matters of which I know little,” she said quietly. “But I do ask that you remember the children are innocent in all of this, just as Brooke and I are. War is a man’s domain. I would plead with you to deal mercifully with the children.”
Braxton wasn’t oblivious to the way he sounded; he could see in her expression how fearful and disappointed she was. He was well aware she had never seen this side of him, the battle-hardened and brutal warrior, because he had meant it that way. But now the time had come for her to see what he was capable of. He took a couple of steps towards her, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips.
“I have always considered myself a merciful man when the situation called for it,” he whispered as he kissed her fingers. “I realize this is distasteful to you but you must understand that it is necessary. I will kill, maim and destroy whoever stands in my way in my quest to protect you and Brooke. And that is what this is about, Gray; protection and survival. I intend that Erith and her inhabitants will survive.”
She looked at him, understanding what he was telling her. But understanding brought greater fright. “Then you ride to battle,” she whispered. “This is all so new to me and I am not ashamed to admit that I am terrified for you.”
Braxton could see the tears forming in her eyes. He put his arms around her, holding her tightly and whispering soothingly in her ear.
“Shush,” he murmured, rocking her gently. “Have you so little faith in my military prowess?”
The tears were coming now as she felt his warmth, his strength, against her and struggled not to imagine what it would be like without him.
“Oh, Braxton,” she whispered against his ear. “I have only just found you. I could not bear it if you were taken away so swiftly. I could not live without you.”
He took her face in his hands, kissing her cheeks. “You will not have to,” he assured her softly. “But I must make a preemptive move against Gloucester. I have no choice if we are to know a measure of peace.”
She gazed back at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “If you feel it is the right thing to do, then I trust you,” she whispered. “When must you leave?”
“Before dawn.”
“Then we still have tonight.”
He nodded faintly, thinking ahead to the emotions, joy and sorrow, that the night would bring. “We do indeed.”
She leaned forward, kissing him tenderly, gently suckling on his lower lip before releasing it. “Then perhaps tonight you will give me your son,” she breathed. “A child worthy to bear your name.”
Braxton closed his eyes as she suckled his lower lip again, feeling his chest tighten with the thought of a future he might not see. He remembered looking in Gray’s eyes once and seeing a daughter with her beautiful features and a son with his strength. He wanted with all of his heart to live a long life by her side, raising their children, watching his family grow. He’d never wished such a thing until this very moment. Without another word, he took her upstairs to their chamber.
Back in the great hall, Dallas had
hold of Brooke as she clung fiercely to him. Oddly, she wasn’t crying any longer; she simply wrapped her arms around Dallas’ waist with her head against his chest, eyes tightly closed. He held her close, trying not to jab her with his armor. His mouth and nose were pressed into the top of her head.
“I must make preparations to depart,” he said softly. “I will not see you until late tonight, if at all.”
She craned her neck back, looking up at him. “I do not want you to go,” she breathed. “They will cut you up like they did those other men and send you back to me in pieces.”
The corners of his mouth twitched with a smile. “Not if I cut them into pieces first.”
Her brows drew together and her lips molded into a pout. “You jest with me and I am serious.”
He kissed her forehead. “I am serious as well,” he said. “You worry overly, wife. I will return to you whole.”
“Can you swear this to me?”
“I can.”
Some of the tension seemed to drain from her expression and Dallas took her hand, leading her over to the dining table. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap, all the while thinking of what more he was going to say to her. He’d never faced a situation like this before, leaving someone behind that he deeply cared for. He didn’t want her to worry and he very much wanted to return to her safely. He wasn’t sure how he could explain everything to her so that she would not panic when he left. When he finally looked up at her, he could see that she was studying him intently.
“Why do you stare at me so?” he asked, smiling faintly.
Brooke cocked her head, a gesture she seemed to do quite often. A finger came up, delicately tracing the shape of his eyebrow, his nose, as her expression remained thoughtful. “Because you are not the husband I imagined I would have,” she said softly.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Nor are you the wife I would have imagined to have.”
She stopped tracing the shape of his nose. “What do you mean?”
He could see she was verging on insult and his smile broadened. “I simply meant that I never imagined I would marry such a lovely woman,” he replied. “And the first time I saw you those weeks ago, I certainly never imagined that I would marry you.”
Noble Line of de Nerra Complete Set: A Medieval Romance Bundle Page 79