Dark Warrior (de Russe Legacy Book 9)

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Cort smiled and kissed her on the cheek before stepping back, reaching out to bring his wife forward.

  Wrapped up against the cold, with her nose pinched red, Dera had been standing politely by as Cort and his mother reunited, but now Cort was pulling her forward to meet the woman she’d heard so much about. Truth be told, she was a little nervous, but that all vanished when she saw the expression on Remington’s face.

  “Mother,” Cort said softly. “This is Dera, my wife. Other than you, she is the woman I love most in this world.”

  Remington didn’t even hesitate. She opened her arms and embraced Dera tightly, hugging the woman who had changed her son’s world, evidently for the better. He looked so happy and in spite of everything they’d both been through, she’d never seen her son so joyful.

  Content.

  “Dera,” she whispered. “I am so happy to finally know you. Welcome to Deverill.”

  She released her, holding Dera’s hands as she inspected the woman. Even as she stood there and smiled at her, Cort was unwrapping his wife. The weather outside was rough, a freezing rainstorm having descended upon the land early that morning. The scarf around her head came off, revealing reddish-blonde hair.

  “It has been a difficult trip,” Cort said, forcing Remington to release his wife so he could help her with her cloak and the other layers she wore. “The weather has not been good and in Dera’s condition, we had to travel slowly.”

  Remington’s smile vanished. “Condition? What condition?”

  Cort grinned as he shook the water from her cloak. “She is carrying your next grandchild,” he said. “The child is due in the spring.”

  That was cause for motherly tears of joy as Remington gasped and embraced Dera again, feeling her rounded belly now that all of the outer layers were coming off. She was genuinely thrilled.

  “What a blessed event,” Remington said. “Your father will be so happy.”

  Cort was handing his wife’s outer garments and his own to the servants, who were gathering around to collect them and dry them off. At the mention of his father, his smile faded.

  “I’ve not seen him in months,” he said quietly. “How is he?”

  Remington maintained her smile, but it turned into a grimace of sorts. “He is still with us,” she said bravely. “Your brothers and sisters are all here. They are all in his chamber.”

  Cort’s eyebrows lifted. “All of them?”

  Remington nodded. “Aye,” she said. “Trenton summoned them all, but there is room for you. He is waiting, Cort. Go to him.”

  Cort took a deep breath, looking at Dera, who was gazing back at him sympathetically. “He has never met Dera,” he said. “I want him to meet her.”

  Remington nodded. “I know,” she said, turning for the stairs. “Come along.”

  Quickly, the three of them made it up the stairs and down a short corridor to the master’s chambers. As the heavy oak door was quietly pushed open, Dera could see that it was an enormous chamber, filled with people she didn’t know except for Trenton, Boden, and Gage. She could see Trenton over near the head of the bed while the other two lingered in a corner.

  In truth, facing them all was little intimidating.

  The past several months had been a whirlwind of intimidation, uncertainty, and joy, all of it culminating in this moment. Their flight from Ireland had been simple, but once they reached France, the real hardship had begun.

  Dera and Cort had made their way to Chateau Melesse, but the de Russe soldiers were mostly French and didn’t know Cort on sight. They were suspicious of him when he told them he had come to take command for his brother and although they had admitted them into the castle, they never fully trusted Cort, especially when he told them that they were forbidden to send word to Trenton to confirm the appointment.

  It had been an odd existence and not an entirely pleasant one. Dera never had felt at home in France even though the land was beautiful and the people, for the most part, were kind and friendly. When they finally received Trenton’s missive about his discussion with Henry and the king’s pardon of their marriage, that was the only time the soldiers at Melesse finally believed Cort was who he said he was because the missive had Westbury’s seal on it. But it didn’t matter at that point.

  They were leaving.

  But it almost didn’t happen.

  Dera hadn’t been feeling well in the months following their arrival until a midwife diagnosed the pregnancy. It had been tenuous at best because she’d bled and cramped, and even though Cort wanted to leave, he wouldn’t while she was feeling so poorly. Dera tried to convince him to go without her, but he wouldn’t. The man never left her side.

  So, they waited, but not for long.

  Fortunately, it wasn’t long before the bleeding subsided and the cramping stopped, and Dera started feeling better, so they took to the road in a month of unseasonably heavy rainfall, making their way to Cherbourg and across the channel to Bournemouth. From there, it was a mercifully short journey to Winchester to visit the king before reaching Deverill Castle, where they now found themselves.

  In a roomful of people who were beginning to realize Cort was among them.

  The joyful embraces began to come.

  Cort’s sisters, Adeliza and Arica, were mirror images of one another. Tall and lovely, with dark hair and smoky gray eyes, they greeted Cort with hugs and tears. Brother Matthieu, who looked like a shorter version of Cort, was the next one, embracing his brother and kissing his cheek.

  Dera stood by the door, with Remington holding her hand, as Cort was swallowed up by his siblings. Boden and Gage were next, embracing Cort so hard that the man grunted. He also nearly fell over onto the bed and would have had a big blond man not prevented it. Dera realized that was Dane, the Duke of Shrewsbury, who didn’t look anything like his siblings. He, too, embraced Cort, only it was longer than the rest of them.

  It was clear how much Cort was loved.

  Last, but not least, was the youngest daughter, Gilliana. She was petite, like her mother, with beautiful auburn hair and Cort picked her up, giving her a sweet and humorous shake, making her laugh as he did so. He kissed her on the cheek but didn’t say much to her, and Dera would learn later that it was because Gilliana was mostly deaf. But his hugs and expression said more than words ever could have.

  In fact, all Dera could see was how much the entire family adored Cort.

  And then, there was her introduction.

  In truth, Dera wasn’t sure what to expect. She knew that Cort had given up everything for her and she was certain she would meet with disapproval and perhaps even hatred from his siblings, but they were warm and welcoming. Gilliana even came up to her and took her hand, leading her over to the bed where Cort was standing. Cort smiled at his baby sister and put his arm around his wife, pulling her closer to the head of the bed where a big man lay.

  But not just any man.

  Gaston de Russe.

  Even in the large bed, he nearly dwarfed it. He was positively enormous and in that moment, Dera could see where Cort and Trenton got their size. He was propped up on pillows, pale and gray, speaking softly to an older man at the head of the bed, standing next to Trenton. Cort pulled her forward, pushing Trenton aside.

  “Papa,” he said, reaching out to take the man’s hand. He squeezed it tightly. “I have missed you so much. It is so good to see you.”

  Gaston held his son’s hand but he gave it a tug, pulling him down and kissing him on the cheek. For a moment, he gazed into his son’s eyes, looking into the face that he loved so well. It was obvious, even to Dera, how much Gaston de Russe loved his son and how thankful he was that he was finally home.

  “How did you get in here?” he said, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. “I told the gate sentries not to let you in.”

  Cort broke down into soft laughter, releasing Dera long enough to put his arms around his father and hold him tightly.

  “Oh, Papa,” he sighed. “I love you so m
uch. I am sorry… sorry I had to stay away. I hope you will forgive me.”

  Gaston let Cort hug him for a few more seconds before gently pushing him away. But he still held on to his hand as he looked to Trenton.

  “Trenton, clear the chamber,” he said. “I want to talk to Cort alone.”

  Trenton nodded, smiling at Cort, patting Dera kindly on the shoulder, as he and the older blond man began herding everyone out. People begin trickling out, leaving Trenton and Dane and the older blond man standing by the door.

  Gaston flicked a wrist at them.

  “You go also,” he said. “Matt, do not go far. I am not done with you yet.”

  Matt.

  Dera had heard that name, from Cort, assuming that the man was the great and noble Matthew Wellesbourne, Earl of Hereford. When the three men departed and the door shut softly behind them, Gaston looked directly at Dera.

  “Come here,” he rasped.

  Dera did, without hesitation. She moved to the edge of the bed, next to him, looking down into a face that looked very much like her husband. He studied her just as she studied him, their natural curiosity of each other evident. After a moment, Gaston lifted a hand to her, and she timidly took it.

  “You are Dera,” he said.

  “I am, my lord.”

  “My son was willing to surrender everything for you,” he said. “Tell me why he should do that.”

  Dera faced him without flinching. “Because most men do not find someone to love in their lifetime,” she said. “Men marry, but it is not always for the right reasons.”

  “And you are the right reason?”

  “I would like to think so,” she said. “My lord, I realize you don’t know me and what you do know, you’ve only heard from others. Not knowing what you have heard, I will make my position plain – your son is my everything. He is the sunrise and the sunset. He is the air I breathe. To say I love him is not quite adequate. It is more than that. He is a piece of me as I am a piece of him. I have sworn this to him and now I will swear it to you – I will never shame him, I will never leave him, and I will do all I can to make him happy. I hope that answers any questions you may have, but if not, you only need ask and I will tell you what I can.”

  A faint glimmer came to Gaston’s eyes. “Now, I see it.”

  “See what, my lord?”

  “You are the right reason.”

  A smile tugged at Dera’s lips and Gaston lifted her hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “You have my blessing,” he said, his attention moving to Cort. “And now, I should like to speak to my son.”

  Dera squeezed his hand before letting it go. “Shall I leave, too, my lord?”

  “If your husband does not mind.”

  Cort bent over and kissed her on the head. “My mother is probably right outside that door,” he said. “She will see to you.”

  Dera smiled at him, heading for the door. When she opened it, Remington was indeed standing there, and Cort was comforted by it. As the door shut softly once more, he turned to his father.

  For a moment, he just looked at him, but then the tears started to come. His father looked pale and drawn, hardly able to lift his head or his hands. Cort blinked rapidly, trying to stave off the flow.

  “Do you like her?” he asked.

  Gaston reached out a hand to him. “From what I have seen so far,” he said. “She is very pretty and well-spoken.”

  “She is.”

  “I sense strength.”

  “More than you know.”

  “Are you happy?”

  “More than I have ever been in my life.”

  “Good,” Gaston said. “Come and sit, Cort. I want to speak with you.”

  Cort took his father’s hand and sat down on a small chair next to the head of the bed. He held his father’s big mitt with two hands, contemplating how he was going to start this conversation.

  He’d been planning it for months.

  “I am sorry to cause you stress, Papa,” he finally said. “I sincerely never meant to. But Dera… I do not know how it happened. One moment, I was trying to charm her and in the next, I realized I loved her. It simply… happened.”

  Gaston squeezed his hands weakly. “I know,” he said. “The same could be said for your mother and me. Cort, if anyone understands forbidden love, it is me. You know the story of your mother and me and how we came together so I will not repeat it. I wanted to tell you that I understand all of it, lad. I was never stressed or angry about it, but I was worried for you.”

  “I am sorry for that.”

  “Don’t be. You are my son and I will always worry about you.”

  Cort understood that. “I know,” he said. “But I am home now. Henry granted me Collingbourne, so I will be a short distance away from you now. I will come and see you every day if I can.”

  Gaston smiled faintly. “My son is home,” he murmured. “I can hardly believe it. But there is something I must ask of you.”

  “Anything, Papa.”

  Gaston’s smile faded. “I suspect that soon, I shall no longer be here,” he said. “Trenton will have a good deal to do when he inherits Warminster. He will have armies and properties to administer. I want you to help him however you can.”

  Cort didn’t want to hear about his father’s impending death but he bit his tongue; he wasn’t going to argue with him, not now. “You know I will,” he said. “Whatever Trenton needs, I will do.”

  “I know,” Gaston said. “But I still needed to ask. And your brothers… you must look after them. Matthieu has not yet recovered from the death of his wife and his soul is weak. Please do not forget about your gentle brother.”

  “I would never forget about Matty, Papa, I promise.”

  “And Boden and Gage. They are young and ridiculous at times, but each has the heart of a warrior. Guide them as best you can.”

  “I will. If I do not kill them first.”

  That brought a chuckle from Gaston. “And Gilliana,” he said, his smile fading. “She is special, Cort. So very special. I will not have the privilege of seeing her married and that crushes me.”

  Cort could feel the tears again. “You will see it,” he said. “From your perch in heaven. And we will all ensure she marries a man who is worthy of her. I feel sorry for the man, in fact, whoever he is. He will have to get through Trenton, Dane, me, Matty, Boden, and Gage to get to her. He will have to be exceptional for that.”

  Gaston smiled at the thought but fell silent for a moment. He simply held Cort’s hand while his gaze moved to the lancet windows beyond his son’s head.

  “I have lived such a good life,” he finally said. “I married a woman who is the heart that beats within me. My passing will be very hard on your mother, Cort. She has remained strong throughout all of this, but I know how much it hurts her. It hurts me, too. I was always the strongest knight in battle, the man to be feared. I cultivated that reputation. I wanted men to fear me. And now, look at me… felled by something I cannot see and cannot fight. God has never paid much attention to me but, right now, I feel as if He has sorely failed me. He has reduced me to something I wish none of you could see.”

  Cort was trying with all of his strength not to weep. “Mayhap that is what you think, Papa, but it is not true,” he said. “When I look at you, I still see the man I love most in this world, a man of strength and honor. You are a legend, Papa. You are still that big, frightening knight. You are the greatest knight of your generation. Don’t you even know that?”

  “I do not know,” he said honestly. “A man has his pride. When everyone gathers in here and I am left to lay in bed like a weakling, I do not like it. I know Trenton called everyone here because I want to speak to each and every one of you, but I would rather my family not see me as I am, but rather as I was.”

  “We do, Papa, I promise.”

  “There was a time when I could rip a man’s head clean from his shoulders.”

  “So I have heard. You probably still can if you put your mind to
it.”

  He lay his head down on his father’s chest as if to give him a go at it, causing Gaston to laugh. “Idiot,” he said, weakly pushing him away. His eyes glistened with mirth. “But you are my favorite idiot. Surely you know how much I love you, Cort. As long as you were away from me, I could not go. But now that you are returned, I am at peace. I have you returned to me and that is all I can ask.”

  Cort nodded, back to holding his father’s hand. “I have returned, indeed. I will never leave you again.”

  Gaston sighed with contentment. “I am going to ask something of you, Cort.”

  “I will do whatever you wish.”

  “I want you to bid me farewell today,” he said. “I want us to say our farewells while my mind is clear and I can tell you all that is in my heart, because when the time comes, I only want your mother with me. It is her privilege and I want her face to be the last one I ever see. There will be no great gathering of the family at that time. Just her and me. But I want to bid each of my children a farewell now, even if it is not yet my time, because I want the parting to be well-made. Will you do this for me?”

  Cort lost the battle with his tears. They popped from his eyes as he bent over, kissing his father’s hand.

  “I will,” he said tightly. “Papa, I want you to know that I could have no greater privilege than being your son. You are the man I wish I could be, the father and friend I will always aspire to. You have given me so much and I feel as if I have only given you trouble, but know this – my children will come to know you as I do. They will love and respect you as if they had known you. When that moment comes and you take your first step into heaven, I hope you do it knowing how much I loved you. How much we all loved you. And I will miss you terribly.”

  Gaston watched his son’s face crumple. Tears filled his eyes as he reached out, touching the man’s face. “No father could be prouder of a son than I am of you,” he whispered. “Trenton is my glory, Dane is my heart, but you… you are all of me. From the moment I first held you, I knew you were bound for greatness and you have never disappointed me. Everything you do brings me honor, so never doubt that for a moment. I love you dearly, Cortland. Do not forget that.”