“Look at them,” he said. “They are greatly interested in her. Greatly. I am surprised they are not down on their knees before her, begging for a lock of her hair. Well?”
The six of them were looking down the table as Cassiopeia and Penelope chatted amiably with the men. They were politely attentive to her, that was true, but Kieran didn’t sense that his sons were rabidly attracted to the woman. He finally shook his head.
“While your daughter is quite lovely and quite eligible, I must take some time to consider this,” he said. “Nathaniel is far too young to marry and Kevin… well, he has his heart set on someone else.”
“Who?” Paris demanded.
All of the women in the group sighed heavily, as if Paris were a complete idiot, but it was Jemma who said what they were all thinking.
“Penny, ye dolt,” she hissed. Jemma and Paris had known each other for thirty years and there was no one else who could insult the man with the same passion that he could insult her. Like antagonistic siblings, they’d been known to have some serious verbal battles. “Ye know that Kevin only has eyes for Penny.”
Paris lifted a condescending eyebrow. “Hush, Banshee,” he said, using the nickname for her that she hated so well. “Penny is far too young to marry. Is that not so, William?”
William nodded. “She is,” he said, glancing at Kieran and Jemma. “I refuse to even speak of a betrothal with Penelope.”
Jemma was fixed on him intently. “But ye will agree tae Kevin, will ye not?” she said. “He’s pined for Penny his entire life, William. Ye canna deny him. It’ll break his heart.”
Paris put up his hands and made hissing noises to get their attention. “This is not about Penny,” he said. “Focus on me. I was speaking of Cassie. William, you also have two eligible sons. What of Eddie or Tommy?”
William rolled his good eye; the other one, with a patch over it, was something he’d lost years ago to a Welsh archer. “This is not the time to speak on such things,” he said firmly. “We’ve come to celebrate Gerard’s marriage to Alys de Royans, not barter marriages for our own children. We shall discuss all of this at a later time.”
Paris was unhappy with the response. “I cannot promise she will remain unmatched until you are ready to discuss it,” he said, pointing between William and Kieran. “If you are too late with your offer, that is your misfortune.”
“We shall take our chances,” William said.
Annoyed, Paris moved around the table and sat down, wine pitcher in hand, as William and Kieran collected their seats. The women sat as well, with Caladora coming to sit between Jemma and Jordan. As the men began to drink and speak loudly of the fact that Paris’ marriage demands were not particularly welcome at the moment, Caladora turned to her cousins.
“He means well,” she said quietly. “I fear he wants tae find her a husband between yer sons because he canna abide her leavin’ him again with a husband that would take her away from us. She’s the only daughter he has.”
It was a sobering point, something Jordan and Jemma weren’t unsympathetic to.
“I’ll work on English,” Jordan said softly, referring to her husband by her nickname for him. “I will see what he feels about Tommy, but not Eddie. As I recall, Cassie and Eddie canna stand the sight of each other.”
But Caladora waved her off. “That was a long time ago,” she said. “Cassie has grown up and so has Eddie. I am certain they have forgotten all about the fact that she would toss cow dung at him and he would yank her hair.”
Jordan wasn’t so sure, but she didn’t argue with Caladora. Much as Jemma and Paris seemed to feed something aggressive in each other, Cassiopeia and Edward used to do the same, once. Years ago, it was the pair that always had trouble getting along. They weren’t siblings but, sometimes, they acted like they were.
Mortal enemies was more like it.
As Caladora and Jemma began to discuss Nathaniel’s qualities as a prospective husband, Jordan couldn’t help but look down the table. She could see Cassiopeia talking to Thomas now, but no Edward. She wondered if Edward had seen the woman and fled, unwilling to engage with a girl who had made his life miserable, once.
Had he outgrown his hatred of her? Jordan suspected that before the night was out, they might very well discover the answer to that burning question.
She wasn’t looking forward to it.
CHAPTER TWO
“Who is that gorgeous creature?”
The question came from Edward’s companion, the captain of Deauxville Mount Castle’s army, Sir Daniel de Motte. Deauxville Mount was a long-time de Wolfe ally, and Daniel was a tall, dark-haired, and blue-eyed knight who had an eye for fine female flesh. Frankly, Edward had no idea who the man was referring to until he saw a curvy redhead with his sister, Penelope. But he thought the man meant his sixteen-year-old sister.
“That is Penny,” he growled. “Remove her from your thoughts, de Motte. She is not meant for the likes of you.”
Daniel looked at him, shocked. “I know who Penelope is,” he said. “As lovely as she is, she is a little young for me. I meant the red-haired temptress with her. Who is that?”
Disinterested, Edward returned his attention to Penelope and her companion. The creature was indeed gorgeous, with flowing golden-red hair and clad in a yellow silk that clung to her delicious figure. She was speaking quite animatedly to Thomas and Nathaniel Hage, and had Edward’s curiosity until he realized just who the woman was.
With a grunt of displeasure, he looked away.
“Bloody Christ,” he muttered. “It’s her.”
De Motte looked at him curiously “Her? Who her?”
Edward cast him a long look. “You may as well forget about her, too,” he said. “That is Cassiopeia de Norville and a more petulant, childish, and annoying woman you will never find. I should know. I grew up with her.”
Daniel’s gaze lingered on Edward a moment before returning his attention to Penelope and Cassiopeia, who were making the rounds at the table filled with de Wolfe and de Norville and Hage young men. He watched her as she shared a laugh with Nathaniel Hage.
“Nat does not seem to think she is petulant, childish, and annoying,” he pointed out. “He seems quite smitten with her.”
“Nat is young and foolish.”
“He may be young, but he is not foolish. And he is a damned good knight, even at his age.”
Edward glanced over at Nathaniel, the youngest child of Kieran and Jemma. While all of the Hage children had variations of brown to nearly black hair, Nathaniel was an anomaly with blond hair and his father’s dark, piercing eyes. He was short as far as men went, perhaps one of the shortest out of the entire crew of young knights, but he had enormous shoulders like his father and a stout, powerful body. He was nothing to be trifled with.
But he was only nineteen years of age and very much in love with women. All women. Edward shook his head.
“Being a good knight has nothing to do with his behavior towards women,” he said. “You know as well as I do that if it wears a gown, Nat will chase it. He is in over his head if he thinks Cassiopeia de Norville is good for him. She will eat him alive.”
He was only succeeding in piquing Daniel’s interest further. “Is that so?” he said, his blue eyes glittering at the lovely young woman several feet away. “I wonder if she will eat me alive, too?”
Edward could hear the lewd inflection. “Hector, Apollo, and Adonis will most certainly chew you up and spit you out if you toy with her,” he said. “If you want to speak to her, you must be on your best behavior. And watch out for Apollo in particular; he will twist your head from your shoulders if he thinks you have any real interest in his youngest sister. Remember, she is the only de Norville daughter left after the deaths of her two older sisters. They are particularly protective over her.”
Daniel cocked an eyebrow at him. “Christ, Eddie, all I want to do is talk to her, not steal her away,” he said, his gaze returning to Cassiopeia. “In fact, I believe I shall h
ave your sister introduce us.”
“Best of luck.”
“I will not need it.”
Edward fought off a grin at his confident friend as the man headed towards the youngest de Norville. It was like watching a hunter stalk prey.
I tried to warn him, Edward thought grimly.
Turning back to his drink and to the room at large, Edward thought on Daniel, a man he’d only known for a few months, ever since he’d come home from London. Daniel was a humorous man, skilled, but quite full of himself. As Daniel told the story, he came to Deauxville Mount not more than two years ago and quickly worked his way up through the ranks after the knights ahead of him suffered a series of misfortunes – battle injuries, sickness, and one of them was even kicked in the head by his own horse.
It had been a distressing series of tragedies that had seen Daniel eventually take command of the Deauxville Mount army because there simply wasn’t anyone more senior than he was. Fortunately, Daniel was competent and commanding, and the general consensus was that Deauxville Mount was very lucky, indeed, to have him.
Edward looked over his shoulder in time to see Daniel speaking with Penelope and Cassiopeia. He was suave and charming, and although his flirtatious manner bored Penelope a great deal, Edward could see that it was having some effect on Cassiopeia. She was smiling politely at the man, looking every inch the properly-bred young lady as she listened attentively.
Perhaps he’ll be the one to tame that savage beast, Edward thought.
“Pssst! Eddie!”
Someone was trying to gain his attention. Looking around, he could see James and Adonis standing over by one of the big, open doors that led out into the paved courtyard beyond. They were waving him over and, reluctantly, Edward complied. Passing by the big table containing his extended family, he looked around, noting where his parents were and, in particular, where his mother was. She was at the far side of the table with his Aunt Jemma and Aunt Caladora.
As he made his way to the open door where his brother was lingering, he could see that the far end of the table where his mother was sitting was blocked by a massive pylon supporting the roof of the hall. From where James was standing, he couldn’t see the woman, which was confirmed by his question.
“Where is Mother?” James asked, a gleam in his eye. “Is she still furious with me?”
Edward took a drink of his wine, eyeing his brother. “She is focused on other things at the moment,” he said. “Where did you go? I went to find you but could not locate you.”
James threw a thumb in the direction of the kitchen yard and stables. “Far away,” he said, straining to look around Edward. “Where is my wife? Where is Rosie?”
“Somewhere at the table, I suppose. Do you wish for me to summon her?”
James shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “Keep her away from Mother’s wrath. Is Mother’s mood better?”
“I would imagine so.” Edward reached out and grabbed James by the arm. “Come inside and stop hiding. Mother will not assault you in front of witnesses.”
James simply grinned, kissing Edward on the cheek as Edward knew he would. Annoyed, he wiped at his cheek, eyeing his brother, who was very much the amiable sort, so much so that it was difficult to become truly angry with the man. James had a great reputation for being genuinely liked, and he was much like Edward in the sense that he would rather talk through a situation, with reasoning, than fight. He had a silver tongue, as Edward did, something they’d both inherited from their grandfather. But James had an impish streak in him that Edward didn’t possess, as proven earlier that evening.
“You are probably correct,” James said as Edward wiped away the wet kiss. “I am safer here than outside somewhere. Besides, I want to sit with my wife and enjoy the evening.”
“Mother said no more lewd songs,” Edward warned. “If you do, she might, indeed, assault you in front of everyone.”
James turned to his brother, his big teeth flashing in the light of the hall. “Then it shall make this evening quite interesting as she anticipates my next move.”
“You are taking a terrible chance, James.”
“That is what makes life exciting.”
With that, he grabbed Adonis, pulling the man with him as they both entered into the hall to a chorus of greeting from the de Norville – de Wolfe – Hage table. As James and Adonis’ return was met by laughter and cheers, Edward stood in the doorway and shook his head at his older brother. Then, he laughed at the man and headed out into the stone-paved courtyard.
It was cool out here, away from the stale warmth of the hall. The moon was bright, washing the land in a cool, silver glow. The laughter and music from the hall wafted outside, carried by the evening breeze, and Edward paused to gaze up at the stars.
Odd how he suddenly felt so alone.
He shook himself; that wasn’t like him. At twenty-seven years of age, he was far too young for a wife or a companion of any kind. He had so much more in life that he needed to accomplish before he could even think of marriage. When he did marry, it was going to be political and strategic. King Edward, who was also something of a friend, was already speaking of French princesses and duke’s daughters for Edward de Wolfe, a man he’d come to depend on a great deal in the years de Wolfe had spent in London.
And then he’d come home.
That was only six months ago. Edward had come back to Castle Questing, and to his father, because he felt as if he needed to. He wasn’t sure why, only that he felt compelled to come home for a time. It wasn’t permanent, but more of an impulse. He’d spent the past ten years in London with the king, being an integral part of the man’s court and enjoying every moment of it. He’d negotiated deals and treaties and contracts on behalf of the monarch, and he had no intention of lastingly leaving that post.
He was a man with considerably power.
The name Edward de Wolfe stood for reason, for wisdom, and most of all, for honesty. He’d made such a name for himself at the king’s side that the king had gifted him with a barony in Kendal, with lands that bordered his brother, Scott. Truth be told, they were very rich and prestigious lands, but Edward had seen them only twice. He had his own army, given to him by the king, who staffed his castle of Seven Gates and also staffed an outpost in the village of Windermere. He had everything a proud young lord should have and he’d worked hard for it, but he didn’t love it enough to go and live there as the lord of the manor.
To Edward, politics and London would always be his first love.
But it was a lonely life.
Off to his left, some bushes rattled, distracting him from his thoughts. There was a garden out in this courtyard, with flowers and vines and a type of archway that extended over a stone bench. It belonged to the Lady of The Lyceum, the wife of Torston de Royans, who was also the father to young Alys. It was very much a woman’s garden, which is why Edward hadn’t moved towards it, but now, the bushes were shaking as someone moved through them.
A woman suddenly shot out of the bushes, moving rather quickly. As Edward watched, she gathered her skirts and rushed towards him, and he found himself looking at the very person he’d been avoiding.
Cassiopeia de Norville was heading right towards him.
Too quickly, their eyes met and Edward cursed himself for not having turned away sooner. Perhaps he could have pretended he hadn’t heard or seen her, but now, he was looking right at her and she was looking at him. When she realized who it was, she came to an abrupt halt.
For a moment, they simply regarded one another in uneasy silence until Edward dipped his head politely.
“My lady,” he said. “Welcome back to the north.”
Cassiopeia’s gaze lingered on him for a moment. It was clear by her expression that she was surprised to see him, perhaps even more surprised that he’d spoken to her.
“Thank you,” she said after a moment. “I… I did not know that you had returned, too, until I saw you inside the hall.”
He nodded. “I ca
me home about six months ago.”
“Strange I did not hear about it. London is a small world sometimes and gossip flies freely.”
“Indeed, it does.”
The conversation dropped off awkwardly. Edward wasn’t sure what more to say to her, or if there was anything else he wanted to say to her. But to return to his moonlight and wine would have been rude, so he forced himself. He didn’t want it getting back to his mother that he’d been unpleasant to a young woman everyone seemed so glad to see.
“I am sure your parents are very happy that you are home,” he said.
Cassiopeia nodded. “Verily,” she said. “My mother has not left me alone since I arrived home. It makes me sorry that I did not come home sooner than this.”
“Mothers miss their daughters. ’Tis the way of things.”
“Indeed.”
More awkward silence. He was trying not to look at her straight-on, as he wasn’t sure how she would view it. A challenge? Insulting? When it came to her, God only knew what she was thinking where it pertained to him, but he had to admit that the somewhat boyish, skinny girl he’d known those years ago had transformed into something of a lush goddess.
There, he’d said it.
Cassiopeia was round in all the right places, and her freckled face had transformed over the years into something astonishingly beautiful. But Edward pushed those thoughts away. He didn’t want to think anything pleasant about her, even if it was true. But he was coming to think that keeping this conversation going was a chore when a voice back behind the bushes floated upon the night air.
“My lady? Where have you gone?”
It was a male voice, searching, and Cassiopeia’s eyes widened. “Nay!” she hissed. “Not him!”
Before Edward could reply, Cassiopeia gathered her skirts and rushed over to a heavy cluster of vines that were near the wall of the keep. She pushed herself into them, clearly trying to hide herself. Edward watched her curiously as Daniel suddenly appeared from the other side of the bushes.
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