The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe

by Kathryn Le Veque

  But Patrick wasn’t so subtle; he looked at Gilbert pointedly. “You did not have to be so blunt,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “My wife has come here to know of her mother’s fate, not of her grisly end.”

  Gilbert wasn’t intimidated by the big English knight; he simply shrugged. “If she dinna want tae know all of it, then she shouldna have come.”

  There was truth to that but Patrick was too angry to comment. His concern now was to remove Brighton and head for home. Now that she knew the truth, hopefully, her curiosity would be satisfied.

  But Brighton wouldn’t be led away quite so easily. When she realized Patrick was trying to turn her away, she gently pushed from his embrace, wiping at her eyes as she looked at Gilbert again.

  “C-can you really hear her screams?” she asked. “From the tower, I mean. Is it true?”

  Gilbert had to admit that he was feeling some pity for the young woman. He thought he’d lost that ability long ago, but looking at the daughter of his sister and seeing the resemblance, he began to feel compassion for Juliana again. Compassion for a young woman he had been so fond of.

  “Aye,” he told her. “I’ve heard them meself. Juliana was me sister and I… I loved her. She was a good lass but she fell in love with a Dane. She loved him tae the end. That was why she wouldna marry the MacNaughton. Dyin’… it was her only way out.”

  That news tore out Brighton’s heart; her mother had loved Magnus until the end, just as Magnus had repeatedly spoke of his love for Juliana. Two lovers who could never be together, who had produced a daughter with that love. Brighton was coming to understand that she was the product of a love that would never die, something powerful that still lived on. It lived in her and now in little Markus. In that thought, she gave herself comfort.

  True love never dies.

  “I-I know Magnus,” she said. “The Dane you speak of, the one that Juliana loved… I know him. He is a good man and we have been able to establish our family bonds. But it was tragic that he and Juliana could not marry. He never stopped loving her, either.”

  Gilbert’s sympathy was in his features. The kerchief came out again and he began wiping his nose. “Then I will tell her that,” he said quietly. “On the next moonless night, I will tell her that the Dane still loves her. Mayhap that will give her spirit some rest.”

  “I-is she buried close by that I might visit her grave?”

  That question seemed to hit Gilbert particularly hard. “The priests wouldna allow her tae be buried in the church yard,” he said. “We buried her outside the yard beneath an oak tree. The grave was meant tae be unmarked but I went back later and put a big rock atop her grave. If ye turn the rock over, ye’ll see a cross I carved intae it. Even if me da and the priests were willin’ tae forget her, I couldna. She deserved better.”

  Brighton was touched at the length Juliana’s brother went to for her. She could also see how it pained the man to speak on her. Truth was, it was painful for her, too. She wasn’t entirely sure how she was going to tell Magnus what had become of the woman he loved but she would have to think of something. Politely, she thanked Gilbert for the information.

  “Y-you have been kind and gracious to tell me what became of my mother,” she said. “May I ask you one final question?”

  “Aye.”

  “M-my name…,” she began hesitantly. “She told the nuns at Coldingham that my name was Brighton de Favereux. Do you know why she decided upon that name?”

  Gilbert smiled faintly. “Yer birthname was a Northman name and she knew she couldna send ye tae the priory with that name, so she changed it,” he said. “De Favereux is from our Norman grandmother, our mum’s mother. And Brighton… when we were young, our da took us tae the south. He was a bit of a wanderer and felt that we should see somethin’ of the world, so he took us all the way south tae a place called Brighton. It was by the sea. Juliana said it was the most beautiful place she’d ever seen, just like heaven. I suppose that’s why she called ye that – because ye were the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, just like heaven.”

  It was a sweetly poignant explanation of her name and Brighton couldn’t help but smile. Patrick had heard it, too, and he smiled at her, glad to see that something in all of this had given her a small measure of joy. For all of its sorrow, perhaps this trip hadn’t been without a tiny measure of happiness, after all.

  “Thank you again for your time,” Patrick said, reaching out to take his wife’s hand. “Since you are my wife’s uncle, should you ever need anything, do not hesitate to send word to Berwick Castle. We are family, after all.”

  That thought hadn’t really occurred to Gilbert. His eyebrows lifted in shock. “Me?” he asked. “A kin tae a Sassenach? They’ll run me out of Scotland!”

  He said it in jest and Patrick grinned at the man, gently pulling Brighton away from the entry and back out to the yard where their escort waited. Gilbert was still snorting with laughter as he closed the door. Patrick and Brighton made their way towards little Markus, who quickly recognized his parents. He began to crow in delight and kick his little feet as Brighton reached out to take her son from Colm.

  “Well?” Colm said. “Did you find out what you wanted to know?”

  Patrick eyed Brighton, unsure how to respond, but she was kissing the baby, wiping the drool from his chin. Then, her attention moved inevitably to the manse and the massive towers on one side of it.

  “Atty?” she asked. “Which tower would be the north tower?”

  Patrick looked at the towers, glancing up at the sun and then to the landscape around them. Rolling green hills and bright skies greeted him as he determined their orientation.

  “That one,” he said. “The one closest to us.”

  Brighton craned her neck back to look at the tower, which was at least four stories high and possibly more. She really couldn’t tell. After a split-second of indecision, she began walking towards the tower with the baby still in her arms. Patrick watched her go.

  “Where is she going?” Colm asked. “Did she discover anything about her mother?”

  Patrick nodded, his gaze never leaving his wife. “She did,” he said. “I will tell you about it later. Gather the men, now. We must be ready to leave.”

  As Colm went off to prepare the escort, Patrick continued to stand there and watch Brighton as she walked all the way to the tower and just stood there, looking up at it. He knew why and thought that it would be best if she dealt with this aspect of it alone. In reconciling herself to her mother’s tragic death, that was something she had to do on her own. But he would be here if she needed him.

  He would always be here for her if she needed him.

  And Brighton knew that. She knew Patrick had not come with her to the tower out of respect and she appreciated it. She was intensely curious about the tower her mother threw herself from, even going so far as to inspect the ground at the base of the tower where her mother had undoubtedly landed in a heap. It was intensely heartbreaking to think that she had been cursed to repeat her tragic death every time there was a moonless night, condemned to throw herself from the top of the tower for eternity. Perhaps that was her penitence for her crime. As the baby cooed and chewed on his fingers, Brighton found herself gazing up at the top of the tower.

  “M-Mother?” she said quietly. “’Tis me. ’Tis Brighton. I came here looking for you but was told of your tragic circumstances. I simply wanted to tell you that I forgive you everything. I know you took me to Coldingham because you had no choice. It was not your fault. I did not have a bad life there, in fact. The nuns took care of me. They educated me. Although I did not expect to marry, I have been fortunate enough to have married a man I love deeply. He is the most wonderful man in the entire world and we are very happy together. And look – we have a son. His name is Markus. We let Magnus choose the name. Did you hear me? Magnus, the man you love and my father, chose our son’s name. I hope you can hear me because I want you to know that he never stopped loving you. Even
though he has a wife and children, you are his first love. He comes to visit us regularly and he is a truly remarkable man. I thought you would like to know. We are all happy, Mother. I wish you could be part of this joy but my prayer for you is that you find some peace.”

  The only response was the sound of the wind as it whistled through the stones of the tower. No ghostly motherly appearance, no voice from beyond. Simply silence. But Brighton didn’t mind; she actually found a great deal of comfort in speaking to the last place her mother ever saw alive. Somehow, it was cathartic to her soul.

  “P-please, Mother, find peace,” she said again, more softly now. “I do not want you to be sad or lonely any longer. Although I did not know you, I love you and will only speak fondly of you. My son will grow up knowing the story of his grandmother who loved very deeply. Be happy, my sweet mother, wherever you are.”

  There were tears in her eyes as she turned from the tower, carrying the baby back to the escort that was waiting for her. But the tears weren’t completely those of sadness; there were some tears of joy, as well. Joy for a mother who understood what it was to love deeply and completely. Brighton hoped that wherever her mother’s spirit happened to be, that she had heard her.

  That was her prayer.

  And it was a prayer answered. Beginning with the next moonless night, the screams were never heard from again.

  * THE END *

  SHADOWWOLFE

  A Medieval Romance

  Book 4 of the de Wolfe Pack Series

  Sub Series: Sons of de Wolfe

  By Kathryn Le Veque

  The next generation Wolfe Pack

  The Wolfe

  William and Jordan Scott de Wolfe

  Scott (Wife #1 Lady Athena de Norville, issue. Wife #2, Lady Avrielle Huntley du Rennic, issue.)

  Troy (Wife #1 Lady Helene de Norville, has issue. Wife #2 Lady Rhoswyn Johnstone, issue.)

  Patrick (married to Lady Brighton de Favereux, has issue)

  James – Killed in Wales June 1282 (married to Lady Rose Hage, has issue)

  Katheryn (James’ twin) Married Sir Alec Hage, has issue

  Evelyn (married to Sir Hector de Norville, has issue)

  Baby de Wolfe – died same day. Christened Madeleine.

  Edward (married to Lady Cassiopeia de Norville, has issue)

  Thomas

  Penelope (married to Bhrodi de Shera, hereditary King of Anglesey and Earl of Coventry, has issue)

  Kieran and Jemma Scott Hage

  Mary Alys (adopted) married, with issue

  Baby Hage, died same day. Christened Bridget.

  Alec (married to Lady Katheryn de Wolfe, has issue)

  Christian (died Holy Land 1269 A.D.) no issue

  Moira (married to Sir Apollo de Norville, has issue)

  Kevin (married to Lady Annavieve de Ferrers, has issue)

  Rose (widow of Sir James de Wolfe, has issue)

  Nathaniel

  Paris and Caladora Scott de Norville

  Hector (married to Lady Evelyn de Wolfe, has issue)

  Apollo (married to Lady Moira Hage, has issue)

  Helene (married to Sir Troy de Wolfe, has issue)

  Athena (married to Sir Scott de Wolfe, has issue)

  Adonis

  Cassiopeia (married to Sir Edward de Wolfe, has issue)

  Author’s Notes

  What a different and complex tale this is!

  If you’ve read the books where our hero, Scott de Wolfe, appears, then you know from those novels that Scott is the gregarious, congenial, eldest son of William and Jordan de Wolfe. He’s appeared in Nighthawk and Serpent along with his twin, Troy (who will have his own story told in DarkWolfe). But this novel paints a very different picture of the Scott de Wolfe you’ve had a glimpse of.

  This is a tale on how an incident can change a man’s manner, and life, completely.

  This novel had an interesting evolution, actually. Some sharp-eyed readers may remember the first couple of chapters from a collection of half-finished novels I published back in 2013. Readers voted on the books they wanted me to finish and this one was somewhere up near the top, but I just couldn’t get the right “feel” for it. It was the great beginning to a story but I wasn’t sure where I wanted to take it.

  Enter Scott de Wolfe.

  Readers have been clamoring for the stories of William and Jordan’s eldest sons, the twins, Scott and Troy, so the idea struck me to transform these first few chapters into Scott’s story. There is quite a bit of “tweaking” going on to mold it into what I wanted it to be, but I think the end result is a very worthy story for Scott. I will warn you that the opening scene is one of great tragedy, but that was necessary in order for Scott to find out what kind of man he really is.

  Being the eldest son of William de Wolfe (and the older of the twins by fifteen minutes), Scott de Wolfe has quite a legacy to live up to and that is exactly what he ends up doing, only his path isn’t as conventional as he hoped it would be. He had to go through a lot in order to find his Happily Ever After.

  As always, things to note – playing cards are mention in this book about a hundred years before their first recorded use. As always, timelines like that can’t really be proven because it’s quite possible that cards had made it to England before that but simply weren’t mentioned or popular. Most things in history come to light when they become popular, but for the sake of our story, I have “picture cards” mentioned.

  And with that, please enjoy Scott and Avrielle’s story because it’s really one of growth, not just for the hero and heroine, but for the secondary characters as well. It’s not the destination in this story – it’s the journey.

  Happy Reading!

  Kathryn

  Castle Canaan

  Cumbria

  Norman Shell Design – Built 1190 A.D.

  There are two distinct groups of knights in this novel and, sometimes, you just need a scorecard to keep track of the players….

  De Wolfe knights:

  Stewart Longbow (senior knight)

  Milo Auclair (senior knight)

  Jean-Pierre du Bois

  Stanley Moncrief

  Raymond Montgomery

  Du Rennic knights:

  Jeremy Huntley (Lady Avrielle’s brother)

  Gordon Huntley (Lady Avrielle’s father)

  George de Vahn

  Adam de Ferrar

  Kristoph Barclay

  The Ballad of ShadowWolfe

  *

  Through mists and sunshine, came a knight

  Son of The Wolfe, was he.

  A knight so bold,

  Of honor told,

  A legend in the making to be.

  But o’er his heart, a shadow was cast,

  This Wolfe, so brave and bold.

  His grief would last,

  And as the days passed,

  His soul grew hard and cold.

  When hope was lost,

  This knight so bold,

  Came upon a phantom,

  “Phantom,” said he, “for certain you can see,

  That life is nothing but sorrow.”

  “Dear Wolfe,” said the phantom, “nothing is for certain,

  Least of all your sorrow.

  For when you expect it the least,

  Love will shatter grief,

  And you will find peace upon the morrow.”

  ~ 13th c. Chronicles of the House of de Wolfe

  PROLOGUE

  April, 1270 A.D.

  Castle Questing, Northumberland

  Thump, thump, thump….

  His heart was pounding so hard in his ears that the surging of blood through his veins was all he could hear. It was all he could feel. He’d been riding at a maddening pace since leaving Northwood Castle, several miles to the north, as he headed to the home of his mother and father.

  Castle Questing had always been a place of joy and warmth for him, something that soothed his soul and eased his mind. The entire world could be falling apart around him b
ut, still, he would have Castle Questing and he would have his family. They were his rock in times of trouble, all of them. Nothing else mattered. But if what he’d been told was true, the rock had disintegrated.

  He had nothing left to hold on to.

  He tried not to think of it. He only tried to think of the next breath he would take, the next step the horse would take. Second by second was the only way he could function. He wasn’t a man normally given to panic because that was alien to him, something that wasn’t in his nature. He was a de Wolfe and de Wolfes didn’t crumble. At the moment, however, he was filled with enough of it to crumble him and then some. And his heart – pounding so forcefully – was full of that same panic, reminding him with every painful beat that something had happened, something had gone terribly wrong, and he’d been summoned to Castle Questing by his father.

  William de Wolfe, the great Wolfe of the Border, had called his two eldest sons home. Scott de Wolfe and Troy de Wolfe had been beckoned back to this great castle of warmth and family with a message that had been so ominous that, even now, Scott de Wolfe refused to remember the message. All he knew was that he’d been called home by his father and he was praying that it was all a terrible mistake.

  It had to be a mistake.

  Please, God, let it be a mistake….

  Scott didn’t know if his twin brother, Troy, was on his way home from his outpost of Wark Castle, a garrison of Castle Questing. But Scott assumed he was. The messenger that had come for Scott had mentioned that Troy had been summoned also. In fact, Troy was probably already at Castle Questing because Wark was much closer to the family home than Northwood Castle was, where Scott had been on an errand for his father when he’d received the missive. Just a simple errand.

  Hell, he’d only left Castle Questing just a few hours earlier.

  Now, he was heading home again and dreading it with every fiber in his body.