De Wolfe in Disguise: De Wolfe Pack Connected World

by Jennifer Siddoway

  Lady Maxwell wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to that, and yet, she already knew what he would say.

  “We will seek out a match fer ye elsewhere,” her father said. “The Gordon’s are not the only family that border our lands.”

  “Then it is certain,” Rebekah sighed. “I am to marry. I dinnae expect it to be so soon. I had dared to hope that once the uprising had settled…I would have more time.”

  Laird Maxwell offered her a look of understanding. His eyes looked tired. The strain of losing not only a son but a valuable alliance, had taken a toll on him.

  “Aye, child,” her father stated. “I had wanted that fer ye as well. We will have to arrange a match before Laird Gordon realizes he’ll be without a son-in-law. It will have to be a powerful family, one whose name has the ability to strike fear in the hearts of others.”

  Rebekah balked at his suggestion. “There is nae such family within a hundred miles from here.”

  “Nae on this side of the border.” The man allowed with a wry smile. “But desperate times require a heightened level of thinking.”

  She stared at him in shock, without knowing what to say. “Ye would give me to the English?”

  “I would give ye to a man that is able to provide and take care of ye,” her father said. “The De Wolfe family has protected the border fer centuries and have a long history of joining their family’s lineage with the Scottish. They’re well established and respected on both sides of the border. They alone are capable of offering us the protection we need.”

  She was shocked and horrified he would suggest such a thing. House De Wolfe was the most powerful and respected family in the region. The thought of marrying one of them—becoming Lady De Wolfe—was almost incomprehensible. Never in her wildest dreams did she think that she’d be joined to one of them. It was an enormous honor and an enormous responsibility, the thought of which both thrilled and terrified her.

  “But…”

  “I have nae other choice, my sweet lass. If I could spare ye the pain, I would, but it is time to think about our family’s future as well as yer own. Lord Atticus De Wolfe is a good man. I trust his son would be a good husband and provide the security we need.”

  “I thought their son was already engaged…”

  Laird Maxwell nodded. “Their oldest, Caius, is betrothed to some daughter on the English border. However, they have two other sons that are unmarried. The youngest, Titus, and the other who I’ve only heard referred to as The Viper.”

  Rebekah blanched. “The Viper? What kind of a name is that?”

  “I believe he earned it in battle,” her father muttered. “Something about having a killing strike. It’s quite impressive.”

  Her head was spinning as the weight of reality struck her, that this could be really happening. The ramifications of his suggestion were huge to say the least. Marrying to protect her clan was one thing but having that be a De Wolfe was another. The future of Clan Maxwell rested on her shoulders.

  “But Da, why would they accept such an offer? The De Wolfes have plenty of land and respectability. Why would they accept me instead of a more advantageous match?”

  “Because the key to establishing peace along the border is in the marches, and ye are the rightful heir. Atticus will respect that title and want to pass it to his son.”

  She sat back and thought about it carefully. He made a compelling argument, and any way she looked at his proposal, aligning herself with the De Wolfes was the best decision. Still, that depended on if the De Wolfes were willing to accept her.

  It’s only marriage, she told herself. Ye’ll gain strength for yer people.

  Bitter tears pricked her eyes again and she squared her shoulders with determination. “Very well, I accept yer decision. Send the letter to Lord De Wolfe with the proposal of marriage and then we’ll both await his final decision.”

  He smiled at her weakly and exhaled a tired sigh before pulling out a quill and parchment. “Then there is hope fer us yet. I’ll send a rider to Rule Water Castle right away, telling them of yer brother’s fate and put forth the proposal of marriage. With any luck, we’ll hear back from them in a couple days.”

  Rebekah swallowed the lump rising in her throat as she watched him write. “I heard them say Lord De Wolfe was called the Lion of the North.”

  Laird Maxwell nodded dismissively, without so much as looking up from the parchment. “Atticus was an impressive warrior,” he muttered.

  “What dae ye think it means? A lion? It sounds formidable.”

  He sighed. “I cannae say their reasons fer calling him that. I can only assume he earned the name in battle just as his son became The Viper. I’ve never met the man. I’ve only heard about him in stories. Besides, we’re nae in a position to negotiate. If they accept our offer, we’ll be forced to accept their terms, whatever the outcome.”

  “They called him a lion, Da…what if he has a temper?”

  “Ye’re speaking of Atticus and nae his son,” Laird Maxwell reminded her. “It dinnae matter what Lord De Wolfe is like, because that’s nae who we’re proposing marriage to.”

  “But he would still be my father-in-law,” she insisted.

  Her father sighed. “Atticus is a noble man, I highly doubt he would permit a member of his family to be mistreated—they are loyal to each other. I’m sure that once ye’re bound to his child in the eyes of God, he’ll extend that loyalty the same way. As far as his son is concerned, I have heard nothing but good things about all of them. Meet whoever they choose with kindness, and ye’ll quickly win him over with yer charms.”

  Rebekah scoffed and narrowed her eyes at him. “What are ye suggesting, Father?”

  “That ye’re fair to look upon, and that ye have a loving heart which will endear ye to him easily. He would be a fool nae to sweep ye up immediately and make his claim.”

  She was about to speak when Laird Maxwell stopped her. “I understand yer concerns, Rebekah. But I’m sure any one of them will be a good husband.”

  “Who did ye hear that from?” she asked. “I never heard anyone speak of the De Wolfes this way.”

  Laird Maxwell raised an eyebrow. “From yer brother, actually. He had suggested this very match to me.”

  Her mouth fell open in shock. “Henry said that?”

  “He did. They fought together at the battle of Cheviot Hills. He came back singing their praises and begged me to marry ye off to one of them. That was a year ago. I just didn’t have the courage to honor that wish till now.”

  “I see…”

  The laird finished writing and sealed the parchment with a bit of wax. Rebekah swallowed hard as he pulled away the seal, knowing the letter would change her life forever.

  Chapter Three

  Village of Hawick, Scotland

  Leonidus sat at the table next to Caius and Bentley, and lifted the tankard to his lips. It was exactly what he needed after a long day of travel, and his legs were sore from riding. The dark brown ale glided smoothly down his throat and left a bitter flavor on his tongue.

  The door to the tavern opened when some new customers arrived, letting a crisp, autumn breeze sweep through the building. The days were growing cold outside, and Leonidus pulled up the fur cloak around his chin, grateful that he’d brought the extra layer of warmth. It was a heavy, protective material that fell almost to the floor, as it was tattered near the edges.

  No one would have expected one of the members of house De Wolfe to wear such humble clothing. Even so, it allowed him to travel without the constant recognition that came from being of the noble house. The title was useful at times, but for the most part, Leonidus appreciated privacy and discretion.

  He was glad to be finally home after visiting their brother, Titus, and set the cup down heavily on the table. A pretty barmaid was cleaning the table next to them and smiled at him suggestively. She had fair skin and a dimpled smile, with wavy brown hair tied back from her face.

  She was subtly vying for attenti
on by leaning over more than necessary to expose the curve of her breasts. He smiled at her politely but was not interested in what she was offering.

  The girl’s cheeks turned pink as they made eye contact, and she gathered up the plates and returned to the kitchen.

  Caius watched her leave and slammed his tankard down. “Oof, that the stuff.”

  Leo nodded, breaking his concentration on where the girl had gone. “I’ll say.”

  “When did Clara get tits? It must have happened while we were gone, because I do not remember.”

  “Give it a rest, Cai.”

  Caius held up his hands and laughed. “I was merely making an observation.”

  “Good, let’s keep it that way. I’m not in the mood to clean up another one of your messes.”

  Bentley grinned, listening in on their conversation. “Your brother is right, lad. Best to leave the girl alone.”

  Caius grumbled something unintelligible, and Leo went back to enjoying his drink. Every now and then he would overhear bits of conversation from the other patrons, either celebrating with each other or trying to drown their sorrows.

  Bentley stared down into his empty cup and asked, “How long did you want to rest before returning to the castle? Your parents will want to know we’ve come home.”

  Leonidus nodded absentmindedly, taking another drink. “Just let me finish my drink and we can be on our way.”

  The barmaid came back from the kitchen and approached them with a smile. “Can I get ye anything?”

  While she was waiting for a response, her eyes drifted over to Caius.

  “Another refill, please,” Caius told her as he offered her the cup.

  Leo watched the exchange and tried not to laugh at how his brother flirted shamelessly with the women in the village. Before long, Atticus would have to put a stop to it, or he would get them into trouble. Damn him.

  Clara smiled as she took the cup from him. “As ye wish. Anything else fer ye gentlemen?”

  “No, thank you,” he responded crisply.

  Her smile faded slightly before filling his cup and heading off to another table. Caius watched her leave and a smile began to creep across his face.

  “You shouldn’t tease her,” Leo told him. “The poor girl was practically undressing you with her eyes.”

  “Who’s teasing?” Caius quipped. “I like her.”

  “Like hell you do. You just like that she’s pretty and interested. Atticus would never allow it.”

  Caius grinned as he glanced back at him. “Who said anything about Father? I’m just talking about a quick romp in the hay.”

  “You’re engaged,” Bentley reminded.

  “Engaged is not the same as married. You think she’s interested?”

  Bentley downed the rest of his drink while Leo shook his head.

  With a heavy sigh, Bentley rose from his seat, saying, “Come on, we should be heading back.”

  It had been two months since they went to visit Titus at their uncle’s estate. Their younger brother had grown almost a foot since they last saw him, and his training was coming along nicely. Uncle Tertius was an impressive teacher, and Leo was grateful for the opportunity to see him again as well.

  Leonidus nodded as he finished off the cup. He knew Bentley was right, and it was not just Atticus and Isobeau that would be anxious to hear they had returned. Their friend had a wife and child who would also want to see them now that they’d come home from North Umbria.

  The last few dregs of ale lingered pleasantly on Leonidus’s tongue as he set the tankard down and gestured for the barkeep that he would like to pay. He saw the man acknowledge him with a nod, and reached down to the pouch of coins that hung around his belt.

  “That’s a nice set of boots you’ve got on, lad,” one of the patrons told him as he sneered from a nearby table.

  The biting tone caught Leonidus off guard, and he cocked an eyebrow at him suspiciously. “I thank you for the compliment.”

  “Nice shoes,” the man repeated while shaking his head in disgust. “Boots like that could have fed my family for an entire month. You must come from a noble family to be able to afford something like that. I bet you’re one of them De Wolfe warriors. You’ve got some nerve coming down to a shithole like this, dressed in all your finery.”

  So much for being discrete, Leo thought.

  Leonidus’s smile faded, and the others turned with him to look at the man who was taunting them. “And you’ve got quite the wicked tongue, I see,” he responded crisply, dropping a few coins into the barkeep’s hand. “It seems we are both at fault. Me with the shoes, and you with a severe lack of manners. Good day.”

  After his dismissal, Leo and his friend turned to leave. He could hear the men speaking behind them, and one of them hissed, “Let it go, Alfred.”

  “You let it go!” the man snapped. “These nobles come into our village, prancing around like a bunch of peacocks. They’ve got no respect for how the men beneath them live. Why should I have to break my back when people like them take all the gold for themselves?”

  “People like us put our lives at risk to keep your village safe,” Caius responded firmly. “But you wouldn’t know a thing about that. I suggest you show a little more respect, especially when the men you attack have done absolutely nothing to deserve your ire.”

  Thinking their conversation was finished, Caius turned to leave. As he was heading for the door, Leonidus saw the man reach out to grab him, and quickly moved. Leo grabbed him by his forearm and twisted it back against the table.

  “Lay one finger on my brother and I will happily remove that hand,” he threatened through gritted teeth.

  Alfred sneered at him, looking murderous as he struggled to get free.

  Caius didn’t even flinch at the exchange and turned around, looking bored. “Sir, I honestly do not understand why you’re so upset. Your issue is clearly with the local militia and not with us. However, I will advise you that Leo is an expert swordsman, and you should take his warning seriously. It would not be the first time.”

  “Go to hell,” Alfred responded with his arm still twisted back.

  Leonidus pressed him down so that his cheek was flush against the wooden surface. “Choose your next words wisely.”

  The man did not respond, which satisfied Leo for the time being. He released him and stepped back to join his friends. When Alfred stood up, he rubbed his arm and then drew a dirk from his belt.

  Bentley groaned the minute he saw the blade and walked over to block the doorway. “Really? This again?”

  “I want your boots,” Alfred told Leo. “And while you’re at it, I’ll take your friend’s boots as well.”

  Leonidus cracked his neck by rolling it to the side and prepared for the upcoming fight. “Not going to happen.”

  The man’s companions stood and drew their blades, too. Alfred, who had been the one that started the encounter, picked a bottle off the counter and smashed it, arming his other hand.

  The sound of glass shattering silenced all in the tavern. Everyone turned to look at them.

  Leonidus closed his eyes and sighed, knowing there was no easy way to get out of this. He reached up to unhook his clasp beneath his neck and let the fur-lined cloak drop to the floor. As it fell from his shoulders, the sigil of their household became clearly visible on his doublet. The gray face of a wolf on a black and yellow field was easily recognized as De Wolfe nobility. Without the cloak, his shoulders appeared much broader, his arms stronger, and Alfred looked back at him, terrified.

  Amidst the hushed voices, he heard someone in the crowd identify him by the name he’d been called in battle, “The Viper.”

  Leonidus smiled thinly now that his identity had been revealed. His regal countenance shone brighter in all his glory as the son of house De Wolfe. Only a fool would pick a fight with one of them—everyone knew the De Wolfes ran in packs. Caius and Bentley removed their cloaks as well, exposing their own family crests and took their places beside hi
m.

  Alfred was now red in the face with embarrassment and grit his teeth. “You think you can hide behind your name and title, but all I see is a spoiled son who doesn’t deserve to lick my boot.”

  The man’s breath stank from alcohol and it was clear he was not in his right mind.

  Alfred lunged at Leonidus, swinging the dirk clumsily toward his chest. In the man’s current state of inebriation, Leonidus was able to sidestep easily and grab Alfred by the wrist to twist his arm in an unnatural fashion behind his back. The move was so fluid and precise, those witnessing it barely registered what had happened—one moment he was charging him, and the next, he was restrained. The man yowled with pain and swung at his face with the broken bottle but couldn’t reach him. When his friends saw him being restrained, they all jumped in and started to attack.

  Caius swore underneath his breath and took out two by knocking them unconscious. The wooden table splintered under the force of their weight as they fell on top of it. Unfortunately, once the brawl had started, it escalated quickly, and soon the entire tavern was in chaos.

  “Dammit, Leo,” Bentley scolded above the fray. “We couldn’t have a single drink in peace without you getting dragged into another one of these?”

  Leonidus scoffed as Bentley threw one of the attackers back into a nearby table. “How is this my fault?” he demanded. “He’s the one who started it.”

  In truth, Leonidus was beginning to enjoy himself. He rather liked the rush of a fight and the blood pumping through his veins. Caius was just the same, and instigated them much of the time. As much as Bentley liked to mock them for getting into trouble, Leonidus knew the man would follow them into battle or even through the gates of hell if they asked him to. He was loyal to the core.

  The men attacking them were drunk and easy to dispatch, it only took a few blows before they collapsed in a heap on the floor. Many of the patrons looked on in horror as Alfred and his companions barreled through the tavern, destroying tables and knocking dishes to the floor.

  When the final man was unconscious, the tavern owner came out of the kitchen, red in the face. “Get out, you’ve destroyed my tavern.”