BlackWolfe

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  “Lissy,” he said. “Please go to the keep and tell Edward de Wolfe that we are down by the river. Will you show him the path?”

  Lisbet nodded eagerly and took off, skipping back up through the trees. Cassiopeia looked at her father curiously.

  “Edward de Wolfe?” she repeated. “He is here?”

  Paris nodded, his gaze moving over his youngest daughter. He’d come down to the river looking for her, because the news he bore directly affected her. Edward de Wolfe had arrived not fifteen minutes earlier with a missive from his father, a missive that had Paris scratching his head.

  Edward is agreeable to court Cassiopeia.

  It had been a surprising bit of news. When William had brought it up briefly at The Lyceum, Paris honestly didn’t think the man was serious.

  He was wrong.

  Therefore, Paris honestly wasn’t sure how Cassiopeia was going to take any of this, so all he could do was come out with it.

  “He is,” he said after a moment. “William sent him here with a missive.”

  Cassiopeia nodded in understanding. “I see,” she said. “Good news, I hope?”

  Paris lifted his shoulders. “I am not for certain,” he said. “It was about you.”

  She looked surprised. “Me? What about me?”

  “How would you feel about Edward courting you?”

  Cassiopeia blinked, puzzled by the question. “Edward? Edward who?”

  “Edward de Wolfe.”

  Now, she was taken aback. She stared at her father for a long moment, half-expecting him to admit this was a joke. But no confession was forthcoming. When she realized that this was no jest, her eyes widened dramatically.

  “Papa, are you serious?” she hissed. “Uncle William wants Edward to court me?”

  Paris nodded his head. “And Edward is in agreement, evidently.” He could see her shock and he took a few steps in her direction. “Sweetheart, I know this is unexpected and I further know that you and Edward shared a rather tumultuous relationship as children. It was a family joke, for such a long time. We used to take bets on how long it would take him to finally throttle you. But that is all in the past, I hope. You do not still hate him, do you?”

  You do not still hate him, do you? Those words rang about in Cassiopeia’s head. Still hate? Truth be told, she was never really sure she hated him to begin with. He made an easy target for her aggressions but, more than that, it was simply a way of getting his attention. Edward had been a handsome young man who had grown into a wildly handsome adult. Was it possible that all she’d ever wanted from the man was his attention rather than him being some target for her hatred?

  She wondered.

  “Nay,” she said after a moment, grasping for words. “I… I do not hate him. I never hated him. Papa, are you certain that is what Uncle William said? That he wants Edward to court me?”

  It was the third time she’d asked for clarification and Paris nodded. “I am certain,” he said plainly, so she was clear. “But you must also remember that I gave Daniel de Motte permission to call upon you, too. Have you forgotten?”

  Cassiopeia shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “You told me on the way home from The Lyceum.”

  “And?”

  She shrugged. “And… and I do not know what you want me to say about him,” she said honestly. “I am not sure how I feel about Daniel. He was quite bold at The Lyceum, Papa, always wanting to stand too close to me and ply me with sweet words. He seemed quite aggressive.”

  “It is possible that he was merely eager.”

  “Even so, I did not like the way he pushed.”

  “Daniel is a fine knight and holds a position of power at Deauxville Mount,” Paris said. “Mayhap he simply made a bad first impression. It happens.”

  “Do you advocate him, then?”

  Paris shook his head. “I advocate no man, not for you, but the truth is that you must marry and I must help you make your choice,” he said. “If it is between Eddie and Daniel, I shall choose Eddie without question, but I want you to at least give Daniel the opportunity to make a better impression on you. That way, you can make your best decision.”

  “If you say so, Papa.”

  “You still have not told me how you feel about Eddie courting you.”

  How did she feel? Turning away from Paris, Cassiopeia found herself looking off to the river as her mind produced images of Edward at The Lyceum, a devilishly handsome knight with that adorable crooked smile.

  Their first two short conversations had been somewhat awkward, but the last conversation the morning after the battle had been one of the better conversations Cassiopeia had ever had in her life. He had been charming and the conversation had flowed easily. A window had opened into the man known as Edward de Wolfe, the great advisor to the king, and she peeked into the window to see that he was a man of warmth and charisma. She’d liked what she saw.

  So, that was how she felt.

  She liked him.

  “I am not opposed to it,” she finally said, turning to look at her father. “Edward and I had a few conversations at The Lyceum and they were all pleasant. In fact, I apologized for being such a horror as a child. I asked him if we could be friends.”

  Paris was very interested. “Oh? What did he say?”

  “He said that he would like that.”

  An unexpected smile twitched on Paris’ lips. “I see,” he said, wiping his hand over his mouth so she wouldn’t see that he was fighting off a grin. “Then you are agreeable to him calling on you?”

  “If that is what he wishes, I am agreeable.”

  Paris decided the conversation with Cassiopeia had gone much better than he thought it would. In fact, he was pleasantly surprised. He liked Edward a great deal but he never thought Cassiopeia would be a match for the man, given their history.

  He was glad that he was wrong.

  “Then wait here for him,” he said, turning for the path that led up to the castle. “If I know Lissy, she has run all the way and Edward is probably already on his way here. See if you and he can have more pleasant conversations like the ones at The Lyceum.”

  Cassiopeia nodded. “I shall try, Papa.”

  Winking at her, Paris turned to walk up the path, heading for the trees. Cassiopeia watched him go, anticipating the arrival of Edward more than she thought she would.

  So he was agreeable to courting her, was he? She hadn’t realized that such a simple thing would make her feel so… giddy. Joyful. The great and powerful Edward de Wolfe was agreeable to court her.

  She wondered how the gossips in London would take the news.

  Edward de Wolfe is courting Cassiopeia de Norville! You know their families are as thick as thieves, interbreeding all of their children. I even heard their mothers are sisters!

  Cassiopeia had to laugh at the thought. Their mothers weren’t sisters, in fact, but cousins. Edward courting her would certainly be news in London to all who knew them, and it was certainly news to her, of the best kind. Who knew when she had come home from London that something like this would find her?

  A courtship with Edward de Wolfe.

  But then, there was Daniel de Motte.

  Her mood sank, just a little. Cassiopeia wasn’t sure how she felt about Daniel. Her father had informed her of his discussion with de Motte while traveling home from The Lyceum, and all Cassiopeia could think about was how Daniel had gone out of his way to chase her down, even when she was trying to hide from him. He was well-spoken, and charming, but as she told her father, his attentions were quite bold. It had made her uncomfortable.

  Yet, perhaps her father had been right. Perhaps, it had only been a bad first impression. Now that she knew of Edward’s interest, she wasn’t particularly thrilled by de Motte’s suit, but she’d promised her father she would at least give the man some of her attention. Just so she knew she was making the right decision when she tossed him aside and ran away with Edward de Wolfe.

  The thought made her smile.

&nb
sp; Lady de Wolfe, just as her sisters had been.

  It had a good ring to it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Deauxville Mount Castle

  Near Doddington, Northumberland

  On the rocky hills of Northumberland, where the grass glimmered like emeralds and the rain storms often brought brilliant rainbows in their wakes, the castle known as Deauxville Mount protected the countryside like a lioness protecting her cubs.

  Crouched on a ridge, Deauxville Mount had been built just a few years after the conquest by a knight who had come ashore with the Duke of Normandy and had subsequently been charged with helping tame the north. The castle was built of stone, originally and foremostly, because Sir Julien de Trouville had been an ambitious man who wanted the most powerful bastion in the north, so he built his castle using slave labor from the Danes that lived in Northumberland. The castle had not one but two mottes, one of them a natural hill and one of them a man-made pile of earth forty feet high.

  Upon these two mounds, Julien built two towers, one as a keep and one as a gaol and military quarters for his men, with an enormous moat that encircled both mounds and a vast bailey between them. There was a system of interior walls that ran between the two mottes, clever architectural features that protected the two towers from invaders. Over the years, outbuildings had been constructed in the bailey, including a long apartment block meant for knights and visitors.

  Julien had called this crown jewel Le Mont Deauxville. It became known simply as Deauxville Mount, or The Mount, and Julien’s surname had been Anglicized from de Trouville to de Troiu, because when spoken swiftly, they both sounded much the same.

  Deauxville Mount had been a proud de Troiu property until forty years ago. It was still a proud property, heavily-staffed with troops because the Scots border was so close, and used to help supply crown troops to northern barons or even Castle Questing should de Wolfe require it. There had always been a great working relationship and alliance between the Lord of Deauxville Mount and the House of de Wolfe.

  But once de Motte took back what was rightfully his, that was going to change.

  Daniel had returned from The Lyceum a much more hopeful man. Deauxville Mount welcomed back their captain and, in fact, it had been the former captain of Deauxville Mount, Stephen Brockenhurst, who had been in command while Daniel was away. Stephen was quite old, as old as de Wolfe easily, and had relinquished his active duties long ago. But because Deauxville Mount was his home, and all of his children had been born here, Viscount Wereford had allowed him to remain. Brockenhurst even had his own cottage on the grounds where he and his wife were living out their twilight years.

  In truth, Daniel liked Stephen. He was an amiable man and a wealth of information on Northumberland. The only thing preventing Daniel from drawing close to Stephen was the fact that the man was a close friend of William de Wolfe. That alone caused Daniel to keep Stephen at arm’s length. But on the surface, he was still kind and respectful to the old knight.

  He simply wouldn’t trust him.

  Stephen was there to greet Daniel when he returned home in a light summer rain storm as he rode in through the great gatehouse. The old knight was happy to return command to the young, talented captain, and as Stephen had retreated to his cottage and a warm drink, Daniel had headed to his own cottage at the base of the gaol mound. It was a two-room cottage with a loft where Daniel and his mother were lodged, and Daniel’s mother was standing in the doorway when her son rode in.

  If anyone ever thought it odd that Lady Chessington chose to live with her bachelor son over her own husband at his property down in Sussex, it was never mentioned. Lady Chessington was a doting mother to her son, very devoted to him, and considering he wasn’t married, he needed a woman to tend his house. His mother was more than happy to fill that role.

  As a servant took Daniel’s steed away to the stable, Daniel entered the cottage, ducking his head beneath the door frame and entering the warm, stale room that was both kitchen and dining hall. There was a table and two chairs, plus two other cushioned chairs that were placed before the hearth. It was a cozy cottage and Daniel’s mother rarely ventured from it. This was her world, and Daniel was her sun and moon.

  It was the only place that existed for her.

  As Daniel came off his horse and entered the cottage, the former Lady Miranda le Londe embraced her son, who hugged his mother only because she expected it.

  “Well?” Miranda asked as she shut the cottage door behind him and threw the bolt. “How were the festivities?”

  Daniel began stripping off his things. “Well enough,” he said. “It was boring and uneventful until the night of the feast. There was a skirmish because a spurned suitor of Lady Alys decided to launch a nighttime raid against The Lyceum.”

  Miranda grew serious. “You were not injured, were you?”

  Daniel shook his head as he lifted his Deauxville Mount tunic over his head. “Nay,” he said. “We did not lose anyone, but it kept us busy for the night.”

  “Did you see de Wolfe?”

  “He was there.”

  “And he was not injured?”

  “No one was, Mother.”

  Miranda pondered that as she made her way back over to the hearth where the flame was licking at an iron pot filled with a bubbling stew. Such was her hold on her son that often times, they did not eat in the hall. They ate sup in their cottage, just the two of them, because that was the way she liked it.

  That was the way she demanded it.

  “That is unfortunate,” she said as she bent over the stew pot and picked up a wooden spoon to stir it. “But as long as you are uninjured, I am content.”

  He knew she meant that it was unfortunate that William de Wolfe hadn’t been injured, but Daniel didn’t respond to the comment. He continued to strip off his outerwear, unbuckling his sheath, moving to remove his mail coat. He shimmied out of it, but there was an assortment of buckles and ties that he needed to get through in order to shed everything. He eyed the woman.

  “De Wolfe’s entire family was there,” he said.

  Miranda didn’t look up from her stew. “And?”

  Daniel released the garters on his padded hose and they fell to his ankles, leaving his heavy linen hose beneath. “And so was Paris de Norville and Kieran Hage,” he said. “The entire group was there, including their daughters. Paris’ daughter, in particular.”

  His mother did look at him, then. “A de Norville daughter? I thought they were both dead.”

  “He has a third daughter, much younger. She has been in London for several years.”

  The light of curiosity went on in his mother’s eyes. “And?”

  “And I believe she may be useful.”

  Miranda’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. “But how?”

  “By marrying her.”

  Miranda didn’t say anything for a moment. She finished stirring the stew and set the spoon down, wiping her hands off on her apron.

  “I thought we agreed that your goal should be de Wolfe’s youngest daughter, Penelope,” she said.

  Daniel waved her off. “It is not possible,” he said. “I have never really thought so, but I spoke to her brother, Edward, and he tells me that his father has great plans for Penelope, and that does not include the commander of the army of Deauxville Mount. You can put Penelope de Wolfe out of your mind, Mother. She is out of our reach.”

  Arms folded across her sagging breasts, Miranda appeared displeased as she headed over to where her son was now sitting on a stool to remove the rest of his footwear. “You discount her so easily?” she said. “We had plans, Daniel. The plan was to marry into the House of de Wolfe, and Penelope is the only daughter left.”

  Daniel looked up at his mother impatiently. “Did you not hear me? There is no possibility that William de Wolfe will accept my suit. She is the youngest and the most protected.”

  “You are a great knight, Daniel.”

  “I am not a titled lord, Mother. Listen to me.”
<
br />   “But you will be when Thaddeus dies.”

  Daniel waved her off. “God only knows how long that is going to be,” he said. “Lord Chessington is a long way off and, even then, it will not be good enough for the youngest de Wolfe daughter. But I have found someone who could possibly accept a suit from the future Lord Chessington.”

  The light of understanding when on in Miranda’s eyes. “The de Norville daughter?”

  Daniel nodded, pulling off his second boot and tossing it aside. “As I said, she has just returned from London,” he said. “She is beautiful and cultured, and her father is very much looking for a husband for her. I have spoken to him about it and he has agreed to allow me to call upon her. If she approves of me, it is possible that I will be allowed to court her. You know that marrying into the House of de Norville is nearly as good as marrying a de Wolfe. They are all intermarried and interbred, anyway. Don’t you understand? I can get close to them that way.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mother, what did we have planned should I marry a de Wolfe?”

  Miranda stared at him a moment, revisiting their plan, a scheme they’d had ironed out over the years. It was a common scheme, as it had been used before by enemies and traitors, for thousands of years, so their plan was nothing new – but in the context of the vengeance intended against William de Wolfe, and in the interest of destroying the man, it was the best and most logical plan they could come up with.

  A plan to end it all.

  To destroy de Wolfe.

  “I remember what it is,” she said finally. “And it has not changed. If you cannot pursue Penelope, let us speak of the de Norville daughter. What do you intend to do?”

  Daniel shrugged. “It is simple,” he said. “I shall woo Lady Cassiopeia and steal her heart as well as her hand. The hall will then be filled with all of the families on the event of our marriage, and all I need are men willing to create havoc for a price. That is not difficult to come by.”