The old man started to chuckle. “My name is Thaddeus de Motte,” he said. “And I am pleased to hear that your father is still alive.”
De Motte. Edward felt as if he’d been hit in the chest and, for a moment, he stared at the old man as if he could hardly believe what he’d just heard. “De Motte?” he finally said. “Your son is Daniel de Motte of Deauxville Mount?”
Thaddeus took the pitcher on the table and poured some into Edward’s cup before he poured more into his own. “He is my wife’s son,” he said. “Not mine.”
Edward found himself trying to remember everything he’d ever been told about Thaddeus de Motte. God, he wished he’d paid more attention. His father had mentioned that de Motte was Lord Chessington, a title that Daniel would inherit. But Thaddeus’ statement had him greatly confused.
My wife’s son. Not mine.
“I know Daniel,” he said. “You… you are going to visit him?”
“Aye.”
“You are Lord Chessington, are you not?”
Thaddeus nodded before downing more wine. “I am,” he said, smacking his lips. “You say you know Daniel?”
“Deauxville Mount is an ally of my father’s holdings.”
“Then your father knows Daniel?”
“Indeed, he does.”
It was clear that Thaddeus was starting to feel all of the wine he’d just rapidly ingested. His movements were a little more exaggerated and he kept wiping his nose with his hand in another sloppy gesture.
“How is his relationship with Daniel?”
Edward shrugged, somewhat confused by the question. “Decent, I suppose. They are allies.”
“Tell your father to stay away from him.”
“What do you mean?”
Thaddeus sucked in more drink before answering. “Precisely that. Tell your father to stay far away from Daniel.”
The man wasn’t making any sense, but Edward was growing oddly apprehensive. He watched Thaddeus down his fourth cup of wine before pouring himself more from the dregs in the pitcher.
“My lord, why would you say this?” he asked. “I do not understand.”
Thaddeus speared a piece of meat from his pie and shoved it in his mouth. “Then I will explain it to you, young de Wolfe,” he said, chewing with his mouth open. “My wife and Daniel think I do not know any of this, but I do. I know what those two think and what they talk about, because I have heard them. I have heard them speak of The Mount and Baron de Troiu and how William de Wolfe murdered him.”
Edward was trying very hard to follow the man, but he still wasn’t making much sense. “Baron de Troiu?” he said, surprised to hear that name. “He was lord of Deauxville Mount a long time ago. My father told us that he tried to abduct my mother.”
“And what happened?”
“My father killed him.”
Thaddeus was wagging his head back and forth. “Daniel de Troiu deserved killing,” he said, seemingly more drunk by the moment. “I served Henry at the same time your father did and Daniel de Troiu did. That was many years ago. Everyone knew that de Troiu was a rake and a liar and an opportunist, and he would pursue any woman he could. I heard about what happened with your mother, but you must understand that, at the time, your parents were separated. As I recall, your mother was in London while your father was in the north, and de Troiu tried to charm his way into your mother’s bed. When she refused him, he tried to abduct her, and your father killed him. That was all the talk of London at the time. But according to my wife and her son, that was murder.”
“Why should de Troiu’s death concern them?”
“Because my wife’s son is de Troiu’s bastard.”
Edward stared at the man, astonished to the bone. He sat back in his chair, stunned by what he was hearing. “He is?” he finally managed to say. “Daniel de Motte is de Troiu’s son?”
Thaddeus nodded. “He is,” he said. “You see, when I met my wife, she was already pregnant. It was shortly after de Troiu’s death and she charmed her way into my bed and then tried to tell me that I was the father of her unborn child. Not wanting to cause a scandal, I married her, but when the babe was born, it was very clear he was not my son. She finally confessed it to me in a rage one day, one of the many rages she had against me. And as soon as I knew, she made sure to tell her son that I was nothing to him. Daniel grew up only looking to me as someone to provide for him and nothing more.”
Edward couldn’t have been more astonished. “But I still don’t understand why he hates my father,” he said. “Daniel has been at Deauxville Mount for a couple of years and…”
Thaddeus cut him off. “And do you know how he came to The Mount?” he nearly demanded. “It was because of me. I am distantly acquainted with Viscount Wereford and for the past several years, Daniel has been demanding I write to Wereford and ask him to accept his fealty. Wereford had declined, again and again, because he did not wish to take on the additional expense of another knight, but when his old captain finally ceased his active duty, Wereford agreed to take Daniel on. But Daniel only wanted to go to The Mount because he felt it was his due.”
Edward was coming to understand, just the slightest. “Because he is de Troiu’s bastard.”
“Exactly. He wants Deauxville Mount.”
“But the property belongs to Wereford.”
Thaddeus cast Edward a long glance before returning to his drink. “He thinks I do not know,” he muttered. “He and his mother have been plotting since Daniel was old enough to do so. Already, Daniel has removed the knights in the chain of command and the last I had heard, he was now in command of The Mount’s army.”
Edward was starting to feel a great deal of apprehension. “He deliberately injured those knights?”
“Of course he did.” Thaddeus drank the cup down to the dregs and even then, he licked at them before continuing. “And he wants your father dead.”
Edward’s eyes widened. “What?” he hissed. “He has said that?”
Thaddeus nodded. “I have overheard him and his mother talking,” he said. “They believe de Wolfe murdered de Troiu. I am not entirely sure who wants your father dead more – my wife or her son. In fact, my wife harbors resentment towards your mother, too. Something about attacking her in London and shoving her into a fish pond. In any case, they both want your father dead and that much is certain. That is why I was pleased to hear that he was still alive.”
Edward was sickened and enraged by what he was hearing. “And you never thought to send word to my father about this?” he said, incredulous. “And why, in God’s name, did you repeatedly ask Wereford to accept Daniel’s fealty if you knew what he was plotting to do?”
Thaddeus was quite drunk at this point, which was why he was freely giving out information he normally kept quite buried. His half-lidded gaze studied Edward from across the table.
“Because I have spent my life trying to please a lad who could never be pleased,” he muttered, his tone and mood turning bitter. “Trying to please a wife who hated the sight of me. Do you know why I am here? Because I am trying to cling to a family that does not want me. I do not know why I try, only that I do. Daniel wanted me to secure him a position at The Mount and I thought, surely, that would make him respect me. But it has not. So, I go to The Mount to beg my wife to come home with me. She has chosen to live with her son, up here in the wilds. Do not ask me why I have not told others of what my wife and her son are planning; I suppose it was a secret I was keeping. I thought I was supposed to. They are the only family I have, even if they hate me. I do not know why I tell you now, only that I have. Mayhap it is the wine.”
He was an incredibly pathetic figure, beaten down by a hateful wife and vengeful son. But Edward was so shocked and horrified that he couldn’t muster the will to find pity for him. All he could think of was his father, who was completely unsuspecting of de Motte’s true motives when Thaddeus knew of the danger. Even now, his father was at Northwood Castle, and de Motte was more than likely still the
re also, unless Paris had sent him home. But Paris and Adam had been so concerned about maintaining the alliance with Deauxville Mount that it was completely plausible that Daniel was still at Northwood.
With William.
Terror surged through him.
Edward bolted to his feet, digging into his coin purse and throwing enough money on the table to pay for his meal and for Thaddeus’. For what the old man had told him, it was worth far more than the price of the meal.
It was worth the price of a life.
“I must go,” he said quickly. But he bent over, arms braced on the table, as he focused on Thaddeus. “Do not tell Daniel what you told me. He must not know that I know. If he knows, that could put many unsuspecting people in danger. Do you understand me?”
Thaddeus gazed up at him, drunkenly. “It does not matter,” he said. “I will be at The Mount tomorrow and he probably will not even see me.”
“Even if he does, do not tell him what you have told me. Swear upon your oath, Chessington. Swear you will not tell him.”
Thaddeus was starting to feel emotional and distressed, as he often did when he drank and allowed the horrors of his wife and her son to come to the surface. The horrors of the family he’d always wanted, but had never wanted him in return.
“It is difficult when the lad you raised as your son hates you.”
Edward nodded impatiently. “I know,” he said. “And I am sorry. You deserve better. But you must swear to me that you will not tell him what you have told me.”
“I swear. Where are you going?”
Edward grabbed his saddlebags. “To tell my father what you have told me.”
Thaddeus was still looking up at him, now wiping his eyes. “You love your father, don’t you?”
“With all my heart.”
“You are a good son. I wish Daniel loved me the way you love your father.”
Edward wasn’t sure what to say to him so he simply patted the drunk, weepy old man on the shoulder. Gathering the rest of his things, he stormed out of the tavern and out into the rainy night.
It didn’t matter that it was dark out, or stormy. All that mattered was that he make it back to Northwood Castle and warn his father of Daniel de Motte. He couldn’t even think about anything other than that – not his humiliation of having been beaten, not the disgust that Cassiopeia would feel towards him. None of that mattered now.
Only his father mattered.
His horse was in the livery stable across the road from the inn and saddled by a sleepy young man Edward ended up helping just to move things along. He was very nearly finished when he caught sight of a rider entering the livery, coming in out of the rain. Glancing up, he was surprised to see that it was Thaddeus.
The old man was covered up in an oiled cloak, his red-rimmed eyes fixed on Edward. Bewildered, Edward moved towards him and his soaking horse.
“My lord?” he said hesitantly. “Why are you here?”
Thaddeus sighed heavily before wiping his nose again with his hand. “Because you are a good son,” he said. “Even if my son would do nothing for me, I admire that you would be so concerned for your father. Mayhap… mayhap it is time for me to do something, as you said. I do not know what I can do, but I will go with you. Mayhap it is finally time to help.”
A smile flickered on Edward’s lips. “I will ride fast and hard, my lord. You will have to keep up.”
“I have been riding that way since before you were born, lad.”
With a chuckle, Edward climbed onto his own mount and with Thaddeus in tow, headed out into the stormy night, riding swiftly for Northwood Castle.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Northwood Castle
The next morning
It was a bright morning after a surprisingly stormy night and Cassiopeia stood in the lancet window of her bower overlooking the inner and outer bailey.
She could see both from where she stood, feeling the cool breeze on her face as the sunlight lit up the fields beyond the castle so that they looked like a carpet of emeralds. She couldn’t see the river from where she stood but she could only assume that it was swollen from the rain. Down below, she could see Atreus and Hermes heading out again, moving for the postern gate and the river beyond. They were probably going fishing again and Cassiopeia thought she might just head down to the river, too, to make sure they didn’t try to drown each other.
Those two were a pair.
But following her nephews would have to wait, for thoughts of the river brought about thoughts of Edward. Big, beautiful, proud Edward who had been set upon in the most dishonorable fashion by Daniel, who was still in the knights’ quarters as of last night. He hadn’t supped with the family the night before, a feast that included Uncle William. During the course of the meal, she had asked her father bluntly when Daniel was going to leave.
On the morrow, she’d been assured.
But she hadn’t seen him leave yet.
Her thoughts moved from Daniel to William, who was in the guest quarters in the keep down on the ground level near the solar. She hadn’t had an opportunity to speak to him about Edward last night, mostly because he had spent all of his time with Paris and Adam, but even when she tried to ask him at supper, her father had quickly shut her down. The need to find out how Edward was doing nearly overwhelmed her to the point where she could think of little else. So much about his departure was shrouded in confusion and William, she was certain, was the only one who could help her understand.
She was desperate to speak with him.
A soft rap on her door distracted her from her thoughts and she went to the panel, opening it to find William himself standing outside. He smiled at her.
“So you are awake at this early hour?” he said. “Or did I wake you?”
Cassiopeia was more than relieved to see him and opened the door wider. “Not at all,” she said, the excitement in her voice evident. “Please come in. I have been awake for quite some time. In truth, I do not recall even sleeping last night.”
William entered the chamber, his gaze fixed on her. “You do not look as if you were up all night,” he said. “Surely you must have slept.”
Cassiopeia’s smile faded. “I suppose I did, a little,” she said. “But I will admit that my thoughts were… occupied. Uncle William, I wanted to talk to you about Edward last night but my father would not let me. Can you please tell me how he is? Did he make it back to Castle Questing? I am very concerned about him.”
William could see the distress in her face, which looked very much like the same expression Edward had when speaking of her. Kindred minds, he thought. She also didn’t look or act like a woman who was disgusted that Edward had allowed himself to be defeated in a fight. In fact, quite the contrary. Reaching out, he took her hand and led her over to her bed, gently pushing her down on the mattress.
“He made it back to Questing,” he said. “He has given me a message for you. I did not want to tell you last night for all to hear when I saw you in the great hall, so I came to deliver it this morning in person. I have also come to make a request.”
Cassiopeia looked up at him eagerly as he pulled a chair over from near the hearth. “What is his message?”
William pulled the chair up in front of her and sat down. When he looked at her, it was with warmth in his expression. There was also some humor there.
“You realize that I never expected to be here, giving you a message from Edward unless it was to tell you that he hoped you choked on those pebbles you used to shoot at him,” he said, watching her giggle. “This is an odd moment for me, but a wonderful one.”
She was still giggling. “My father is going through the same strange sense of wonder,” she said. “Please… what did Edward wish to say to me?”
William reached out and took her hand, holding it gently. He had a very soft touch with his daughters and nieces, and they loved him for it.
“He told me to tell you that you will always be his biggest regret.”
Her smile faded and she looked at him with great concern. “But why?” she said. “Do you mean he regrets coming here? He regrets… everything?”
William shook his head quickly, realizing she was taking it the wrong way. “Nay, sweetheart,” he said. “He meant that leaving you behind is his greatest regret. Until the fight with de Motte, I believe he was very much looking forward to asking for your hand.”
His clarification hadn’t given her any comfort. In fact, she started to tear up. “Then why did he leave?” she asked. “I do not understand why he left and did not even tell me that he was going.”
William could see how distressed she was and he squeezed her hand. “Because he was afraid you were ashamed of him,” he said quietly. “Edward was humiliated by de Motte’s licking and he thought you were, too. He felt that it was better to leave and not create an awkward situation for you, but I can see just by looking at you that he was wrong.”
In truth, Cassiopeia appeared completely shocked by the suggestion. “He… he thought I was ashamed of him?”
“That is the gist of it, aye.”
“But why?”
“Because de Motte badly beat him and you saw the entire thing. He was humiliated by it. No man wants to be shamed in front of a woman he is romantically interested in.”
Cassiopeia’s mouth popped open in surprise when she realized the reasons for Edward’s departure were reasons that had never crossed her mind. “I was not humiliated in the least,” she said. “But I am furious with Daniel and I never want to see him again. It is not Daniel I want, Uncle William… it is Edward. Do not ask me why or how this has happened, for I surely do not know. All I know is that I will marry Edward if he will have me. I will have no other.”
William grinned. “So the tormenter adores her victim,” he said, watching her flush. “You are certain of your feelings, Cassie?”
She nodded before the words were even out of his mouth. “I think… I think I have always had a fondness for Edward, but I never knew how to show him,” she said. “Even when I think back to the torture I put him through, the pebbles to the head or the mud in his shoes, or any number of evil acts against him, I think it was only to get his attention. I just wanted his attention because he was handsome and kind. And he has a crooked smile that makes him so very endearing.”
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