The Black Storm (De Reyne Domination Book 4)

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Now, Charles had his truth and his suspicions were confirmed. Even though de Reyne had a reputation for being rather reclusive, Charles was starting to think that perhaps it was because the man was simply shy. That was the impression he was getting, at least when discussing a woman.

  It was a most interesting realization.

  “It does not draw my ire,” he said. “In fact, I am glad to hear it. My sister is a sweet, lovely girl, but my mother feels that the way she… well, suffice it to say, my mother has kept her rather sequestered.”

  Ridge’s brow furrowed. “Why would she do that?”

  Charles sighed heavily, looking out to the dance floor where Catherine now had another dance partner other than drunken George, whom she’d apparently chased away. After a moment, he eyed de Reyne.

  “Let me be perfectly truthful with you, my lord,” he said. “If you are interested in speaking with my sister, that means you are interested in her, so you should know the situation before you find yourself knee-deep in it. The truth is that my mother feels that my sister has imperfect speech that makes her sound… childish.”

  Ridge’s eyebrows flew up. “Childish? Her?”

  Charles nodded. “The way she forms certain words,” he said. “Surely you’ve heard it.”

  Ridge was nodding before the words were even out of his mouth. “Aye, I’ve heard her,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong with the way she speaks. I think it sounds quite endearing.”

  Charles dipped his head in thanks. “You are gracious to say so,” he said. “I see nothing wrong with it, nor does anyone else I know, but my mother… she is ashamed of it and that has made her keep my sister somewhat isolated. But she has brought her here to the Durham tournament in the hopes of unloading that shame. In other words, she has brought my sister in the hopes of finding her a husband. So unless you want my mother to latch on to you if she thinks you are interested, you had better say clear of her. For your own sake.”

  Ridge’s gaze moved out to Catherine, dancing with a young man who had a mop of curly, red hair. He watched her for a few moments, his eyes glittering.

  “I see,” he finally said. “And your sister? Does she want a husband?”

  “Probably,” Charles said. “I’m sure she dreams of someone who will not ridicule her for the way she speaks and will cherish her for who she is.”

  “And who is she?”

  “She is bright, compassionate, and fiercely loyal. She will make some man a very fine wife.”

  Ridge simply nodded his head. Charles watched the man, whose focus was on Catherine as she jumped around in rhythm to the music. But he didn’t say anything more, and neither did Charles, so eventually he turned away to collect another cup of wine.

  The music changed to something slower and sweeter just as Charles picked up his cup, noting that Geoffrey was now conversing with the knights of Northwood and a few others. It was a big circle of knights and Charles thought to join them, turning to de Reyne to see if the man wanted to join them as well.

  But de Reyne wasn’t there.

  Charles spied the man out in the middle of the hall, chasing off the red-haired young man as a ballad began to play. As he watched, Ridge and Catherine lifted their hands, palm to palm, and began to dance to the music.

  With a smile, Charles went to join the others.

  *

  “So you do dance, do you?” Catherine asked as she and Ridge danced in a tight circle, their palms pressed together. “You are a man of many talents, my lord.”

  Ridge snorted softly. “Don’t become too excited,” he said. “We’ve only just begun and I’ve not stepped on your feet yet. You may think differently in a few minutes.”

  Catherine grinned. “I am sure that I will not,” she said. “But for a man who has not danced recently, you are quite brave to do it. Your bravery is not only on the tournament field, I see.”

  It was his turn to grin, listening to that sweet lisp with fresh ears. He couldn’t believe the woman’s mother thought that unique feature was a detriment. “A man can be brave in many ways,” he said. “For example, staring down two vicious dogs without kicking them into the river.”

  Catherine started to laugh. “Was that your first instinct?”

  “I had to protect Odin, did I not?”

  “Who is Odin?”

  “My dog.”

  She understood. “He is a very big dog,” she said. “I am sure one big bark from him would have sent my dogs running away in terror.”

  “Possibly,” Ridge said. “He has a very loud bark.”

  “Is he a good guard dog?”

  “He is excellent, believe it or not.”

  “You have had him a long time?”

  “Not too long,” he said. “A couple of years, really. I found him wandering in a meadow one day when I was traveling to Birmingham and I adopted him. Or, more correctly, he adopted me. He was very thin and I think he had been beaten, so I took him with me. Now he is so pampered, a king should live so well.”

  Catherine’s features softened. “That was kind of you,” she said. “Mayhap that is why he is so afraid of things.”

  “I think so.”

  “The poor creature,” she said as she turned a circle around him. Then they were face to face again. “I think it takes a special person to be compassionate towards animals. My father always says that a man with kindness towards animals is a man of good character towards men.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “I do,” she said, nodding. “Animals have the ability to tell if a man or woman is kindly or not. They can sense evil, I believe. Do you think so?”

  He was holding her fingers, his arm raised, as she spun around next to him. “I believe I do,” he said. “When I was a child, I had an ugly little dog that was quite protective of me. He hated the local priest who would come to our home and sup with my parents. As it turned out, he saved my mother from an attack from this priest. After that, my father made sure the dog had the finest of everything, always.”

  Catherine was listening with great interest. “You see?” she said firmly. “He knew the priest was evil. But how terrible for your mother. Did she recover?”

  “She did,” he said. They were at the part in the dance where they were rather close to one another and Ridge was having trouble concentrating because she was so near. “But we never set foot in a church again after that. My father did not trust any priest ever again.”

  “I cannot fault him for that,” Catherine said. “Are your parents still alive?”

  “Nay.”

  “Any brothers or sisters?”

  “Unfortunately not. It is just me.”

  “You and your men and a thousand rabid spectators.”

  He started to laugh, but the music ended and they were forced to cut their conversation short while she curtsied to him and he bowed. He was about to suggest they find refreshments, giving him a merciful reprieve from the dancing, but drunken George appeared again before he could speak.

  “Mother wants you to go back to the table, Catie,” he said, grasping her arm. “She wants you to meet someone, but I do not think you should go there. I have come to tell you to stay far away from the table.”

  Catherine frowned. “Why?” she asked. “Who is it?”

  George’s features scrunched up. “Renard de Luzie,” he said distastefully. “The man is a bastard. Everyone hates him. I do not know why she wants you to meet him, but she does.”

  Catherine looked perplexed. “Renard de Luzie?” she repeated. “I do not know that name. Who is it?”

  “A very unscrupulous man,” Ridge answered softly. When she turned to look at him, he continued. “Far be it from me to speak ill of another knight but, in this case, your brother is right. You must stay far away from your mother’s table if de Luzie is there.”

  “Come on,” George said, pulling her by the hand. “I will take you away. We will escape where she cannot find you.”

  “I will go with you,” Ridge sa
id. Somehow, he didn’t trust Catherine’s safety to her drunken brother, especially when de Luzie was involved. “Where is your mother seated?”

  George motioned off towards the eastern side of the hall. “Over there,” he said. “She is sitting with de Luzie.”

  Ridge looked over in that direction, but his view was blocked by dozens of people. “I wonder if he has seen the lady,” he said. “Or is it possible your mother has simply offered the introduction, sight unseen?”

  George shook his head. “I do not know the answers to those questions,” he said. “But I do know that I do not want de Luzie anywhere near my sister. I do not know the man, but I know what he does.”

  “Does your mother know of him?”

  “Doubtful,” George said. “This is the first tournament she has attended where he has been present. She wants to find my sister a husband, but it will not be that bastard.”

  Catherine immediately hung her head, embarrassed that George had spoken of the real reason for her presence in front of Ridge. Somehow, it made her feel unwanted and cheap, as if she were so unworthy that her mother was searching eagerly for a husband, but what she didn’t know was that Charles had already told him.

  Ridge didn’t react other than to take her hand from George.

  “I will take your sister to your eldest brother and explain the situation,” he said. “Surely he will want to return her to your encampment. But in any case, you must return to your mother.”

  “But why?”

  “Because if you do not, she may send someone else out to look for her. You will, therefore, tell your mother than you are still looking for your sister. Delay as much as you can. Mayhap de Luzie will grow weary of waiting and seek entertainment elsewhere. The man has never been known to be patient.”

  George let Catherine go because Ridge took hold of her arm, but he got the gist of the man’s instruction. “Excellent suggestion,” he said. “And mayhap I’ll tell de Luzie just what I think of him while I’m there.”

  Ridge shook his head. “I would not, young de Tuberville, as you still might have to face him during the games,” he said. “You do not want to give the man an excuse to aim for your head.”

  That was true, but the alcohol in George’s veins fueled his bravery. He simply waved him on, staggering off to find his mother again. Ridge had Catherine by the elbow, a polite gesture, as he escorted her towards the area where he’d last seen Charles. The hall was quite crowded now, the heat from hundreds of bodies filling the stale air, making it somewhat cloying, but he spied the eldest de Tuberville brother where he’d left him, now speaking to one of the de Royans knights.

  Ridge headed right for him.

  “My lord,” he said as he came up behind Charles. “There seems to be a situation that requires your attention.”

  Charles was fairly drunk himself by this point, turning to Ridge curiously. “What situation?” he asked, noting Catherine in the man’s grip. “What is wrong?”

  “Mother has found some horrible knight to introduce me to,” Catherine blurted unhappily. “Someone named de Luzie. George and Sir Ridge want me to go back to our encampment.”

  Charles’ eyebrows flew up. “De Luzie?” he repeated with disgust. “God’s Bones, over my dead body will the man be introduced to you. You did the correct thing in taking her away, my lord. You have my thanks.”

  Ridge didn’t exactly want to turn her over, even to her own brother. He wanted very much to be in charge of her safety, especially with de Luzie involved. In fact, he wanted to do more than that. He wanted to stake a claim or, at the very least, express his interest. He barely knew the woman but what he knew, he liked, and if her mother was actively soliciting suitors, he couldn’t delay. If he wanted her, he had to say something.

  He cleared his throat softly.

  “May I have a word with you, my lord?” he asked. “Alone?”

  Charles looked between Catherine and Ridge before nodding his head. Leaving his sister standing awkwardly with Dalton de Royans, a kind but socially inelegant knight, he and Ridge moved a few feet away so they could speak privately.

  “What is it?” Charles asked, concerned. “What did de Luzie really want?”

  Ridge shook his head. “I do not know,” he said. “I’ve not seen him. The message that your mother wished to introduce your sister to him came through George. I’ve sent him back to stall your mother and de Luzie. Hopefully, the man will get tired of waiting and move on to other prey. You know that any association with him, for your sister, would be horrific.”

  Charles nodded slowly. “I can imagine,” he said honestly. “My lord… would you be so kind as to take my sister back to our encampment? I must find Geoff and we must confront my mother and de Luzie. I do not want that man thinking he can sink his claws into my sister.”

  Ridge nodded, his gaze drifting over to Catherine as she listened to the awkward de Royans knight. She was smiling politely at him and the more Ridge looked at her, the more attraction he felt. It was all happening so quickly but, sometimes, life happened quickly. There wasn’t time for deliberation or decisions. One had to act or lose the moment.

  This was one of those times.

  “You said that your mother is looking for a husband for your sister,” he said after a moment. “Tell your mother I am interested.”

  Charles’ eyes widened. “What?” he gasped. “Are you serious?”

  Ridge looked at him then. “Never more serious in my life,” he said. “Tell your mother that I am more than happy to court your sister with the intention of marriage, but that means she must cease her hunt for a husband. Your sister already has an interested party.”

  Charles’ mouth was hanging open in shock, but as he realized Ridge was serious, he closed his mouth and nodded. “And she could not have a finer one,” he said. “My lord, we are greatly honored. May I tell my sister?”

  “Nay, I will. With your permission.”

  Charles nodded, a grin tugging at his lips. “You have it,” he said. “But now that you have made your intentions clear, I should not let you escort her back to our encampment alone. You know this.”

  Ridge knew that. Realizing Charles wasn’t at all averse to his suit had him fighting off his own smile. “I swear that I will not molest her in any way,” he said. “On my oath, I will remain perfectly behaved.”

  “I believe you.”

  “Good.”

  Ridge’s smile broke through, as did Charles’. They grinned at each other, a surprising moment of understanding between them, before Charles pointed to Catherine.

  “Get her out of here,” he said. “I will see to my mother.”

  They separated, Ridge going for Catherine just as the sporadic conversation between her and de Royans was becoming painful. Without a word, he took her by the arm as Charles went in search of Geoffrey. He found his brother over near the food table with some knights from Richmond and he muttered in the man’s ear, giving a brief accounting of what was happening.

  Geoffrey set down his food and followed him back to the table where their mother still sat with Renard. George was already there and he’d clearly said something offensive to Renard, who was on his feet by the time Charles and Geoffrey arrived.

  The evening was about to get more interesting.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “May I ask a question?”

  It was quite dark on this night, with a sliver-moon and a million diamonds glittering against the velvet sky. The Durham officials had plenty of torches on hand to light the paths, the roadways, the tournament field, the lists, the competitors’ encampment, and everything in between. There was a man whose sole job was to make sure those torches remained lit through the night. When Ridge heard Catherine’s soft voice, he turned to look at her.

  “Of course,” he said. “What is it?”

  “Will you tell me what is so terrible about Renard de Luzie that I must be hidden from him?” she asked. “You and my brothers alluded to it, but what has he done that is so awful
?”

  Ridge still had her by the elbow as they walked the road from the castle to the competitors’ encampment. In order to get there, they had to cross a bridge over the River Wear and head into the encampment which was situated against the river on the other side. The camp faced the castle and the great cathedral, which was positioned on a bend in the river. To the north of the encampment was where the lists and tournament field were. Ridge found himself looking at the field in the distance as he pondered an answer.

  “Tournaments are for men who function outside of the normal world, in a sense,” he said. “It is an extremely lucrative life, but it is also a vain one. It is for glory and riches. Men who compete are bachelor knights, men who do not serve a particular lord. Of course, some do, but the professional competitors that follow the circuit from town to town do not.”

  She looked at him with interest. “Why not?”

  He shrugged. “Each man has his own reason,” he said. “Some men simply do not like serving a single master. Some men must make their fortune.”

  “Like you?”

  He nodded, smiling when he looked at her. “Like me.”

  “You have no family to support you?”

  He shook his head. “I am the bastard of a great knight, a man named Ryton de Reyne,” he said. “He served d’Umfraville of Prudhoe Castle and I was born after he died. He never knew about me.”

  The fact that he was of illegitimate birth didn’t seem to bother her, which was a relief to Ridge. That was something he didn’t speak of much but, in this case, he felt he needed to at least bring it up.

  She had to know what kind of man she would eventually be getting.

  “Your mother never told him?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “She was a lady-in-waiting at Hexham Castle,” he said. “They were courting in secret and presumably wanted to marry, but there was a good deal of Scots raiding going on at the time and my father was killed before they could legally wed. He had a brother who inherited everything from him, my Uncle Creed, who was evidently more than surprised when my mother showed up with me shortly after I was born. He hadn’t even known his brother had a woman he was fond of. Even so, my uncle was extremely generous. He gave my mother a place to live and provided her with an income, and he made sure that I was properly trained. I wanted for nothing.”