The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe
Page 184
Avrielle looked at her bold son. “As do I,” she said. “He is a worthy legacy to his father.”
Scott’s attention returned to Avrielle, wondering if talk of Nathaniel was about to bring about the throes of grief again, but she seemed to be maintaining her composure with some ease. That was good considering the message he had come to deliver. He didn’t want the woman upset before he even started.
“You have raised fine children,” he told her. Then, simply to keep the conversation pleasant for the moment, he gestured to the squirming baby underneath the blanket. “I hope the infant is well?”
Avrielle nodded. “She thrives,” she said. “I apologize that I have not sent you word on her progress. You helped bring her into this world, after all. I am sure you wished to know.”
Scott shook his head. “Although it was an honor to assist with the child, you have no obligation to inform me of your child’s progress,” he said. “But I am pleased to hear that she thrives. Sometimes with infants, it is hard to know if they will.”
Avrielle watched him as he spoke. His manner, his way of speech, was completely different from the man she’d known since his arrival to Canaan. There was an odd comfort between them, perhaps because of the fact that de Wolfe had helped her in an intimate and dire moment. The birth of a child was something quite sacred and the fact that he had participated in that somehow bonded them together as far as Avrielle was concerned.
Truthfully, this was really only the third contact she’d had with him – both times before had been times of great stress and strife – so now, in this calm moment, she took the time to inspect the man and everything about him. He was stiff in manner, greatly professional, and… cold. No warmth. He also seemed lonely. She remembered what Nathaniel had told her about de Wolfe losing most of his family and, now, she was coming to understand why she saw such loneliness in the man. Any man who lost those he loved would surely be solitary in such grief.
Loneliness beyond imagining.
“My lord, I would like to say something to you,” she said, somewhat hesitantly. “You and I have not had much chance to speak in times that were calm such as it is now, so I would like to say that those of us here at Canaan are not the mad and ungrateful people we appear to be. You must understand that Nathaniel’s death has caused us all… great pain and disorientation. My brother is not a wicked man and I… I am not the madwoman you met at the first. I know it must seem to you that we are all a bit odd, but I assure you that we are quite normal. We have simply suffered through trying circumstances.”
Scott watched her speak, articulate and soft, and he realized she had a bit of a lazy tongue. It was evident in certain words, but he thought it was one of the more attractive things he’d ever heard and he had no idea why he hadn’t noticed it before. Perhaps because they’d never had a calm moment before, as she put it. Something about the woman was endearing and that creature inside of him, the one of feeling that was trying to claw its way out, was getting closer and closer to the surface.
It had been a mistake to see her again. But… he was glad he had.
“I never thought you were mad or ungrateful,” he said. “Grief has a way of making people behave in ways they wouldn’t normally behave.”
She watched him as he spoke, thinking that, perhaps, she saw a flicker of sorrow cross his features. “You say this because you know of such things.”
It wasn’t a question, but a statement, and Scott looked at her curiously. He hadn’t come here to discuss his life; he’d come to tell her of her destiny. His grief and his sorrows were taboo subjects to those around him but, of course, Lady du Rennic wouldn’t know that. As he stared at her, he remembered seeing her in the overgrown and dead garden, thinking he knew her grief well. He knew it so well he’d tried to block it out and alienate everyone who was close to him along the way.
Did he know of such things? Of course he did. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to speak of them, not even to her.
“You could say that,” he said after a moment, torn by the feelings she was stirring in him with the subject matter. “You are not the only one who has suffered such grief, you know. It is not yours exclusively.”
A woman of great empathy and understanding, Avrielle could see the pain in his eyes. But hadn’t Nathaniel said it had been years ago?
He’s still hurting, she thought.
“I know,” she said softly. “But… but how do you overcome such things? I am afraid it is something that will haunt me for the rest of my life. Every time I look at my children, I am reminded of Nat. I wonder if I will be afraid to even look at them in the days and years to come, afraid of being reduced to sorrow by their faces.”
Scott didn’t want to talk about this. God help him, he didn’t. But something about her was drawing him in. He could feel her pain, deeply, mingling with that which he had labored long and hard to bury. He remembered once thinking he’d found a kindred spirit with her, both of them sharing a common grief, so there was a part of him that was willing to speak of his sorrow because she understood it. And from the way she spoke, it was as if she already knew his secrets. As if she could read his mind.
He didn’t like it.
“I would not know,” he said honestly. “You will have to find your own path in such matters, my lady. I cannot help you.”
Avrielle sensed his extreme reluctance to speak on the subject of death and grief, and she felt ashamed that she had pushed the man. She wouldn’t tell him what Nathaniel had told her, at least not at the moment. It didn’t seem right, not when he was clearly quite private about it.
“Forgive me,” she said, averting her gaze. “I did not mean to pry. It is simply that I am, indeed, looking for my own path to take in this process of grief and, mayhap, I am looking for hope that, someday, I will find peace. It does not seem like that now. But I am very sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Now, you said you had something to speak with me about. I am sure you wish to get on with it.”
Scott watched her as she fumbled with the baby beneath the blanket, burping the child against her chest. To give her some privacy, he stood up and moved away, thinking on how to proceed with this conversation. He hadn’t meant to be so cruel in his reply but speaking on what happened four years ago… the prospect was terrifying.
“Actually, what I have come to speak to you about has to do with the peace you may find in your life,” he said, shifting the subject somewhat. “Life moves on and we must move with it. We cannot go back to where we used to be, so it is up to us to find something that gives us not only peace for the future, but joy as well.”
Avrielle had shifted the baby to the other breast and covered herself back up, listening to him with some interest. “That makes a great deal of sense,” she said. “I hope to find both of those things again, someday.”
Scott turned to her now that she was presentable again. “You know that Nathaniel was well loved,” he said. “That means you are well loved also. Edward, our king, is concerned for you, so concerned that he wishes to find someone to take care of you. You are valuable to Edward and he is concerned for you as well as for Castle Canaan. You cannot remain here alone.”
As his words sank in, Avrielle’s features changed. She went from an expression of keen interest to one of disbelief.
“Someone to take care of me?” she repeated. “I do not understand.”
“Another husband.”
That brought a reaction. Her eyes widened. “But… but I do not want another husband.”
Scott nodded. “Not now,” he said. “But that will not last forever. Someday, you must marry again. Think not of yourself, my lady – think of your children. They need a father. And Canaan needs a man to administer her army and her wealth.”
Surprisingly, she didn’t flare. She simply stared at him for a moment before lowering her gaze, looking back to the babe in her arms.
In truth, Avrielle had no idea how to react. She was shocked, and greatly saddened, but she realized that she wasn’t su
rprised. Everything de Wolfe said made perfect sense; Canaan was strategic and it was rich. It wasn’t as if the castle could be without a commander, someone to be in charge of the place even though Jeremy and Gordon were quite capable. They were knights, but they were lesser knights. They weren’t even titled and, therefore, politically and legally inadequate to oversee such a fine bastion.
But the thought of another husband… the mere idea tore her to pieces.
“Must I?” she whispered.
“I am afraid so.”
Avrielle sighed heavily and began to rock the baby, a comforting motion that was probably more for her than it was for the child. “One cannot go against the king,” she said quietly. “But I would have hoped he could have waited a little longer. Nat has only been gone these few months. Must we forget about him so soon?”
Scott could see the tears in her eyes, tears she was desperately trying to blink away. “Who says you must forget him?” he asked, although he’d said nearly the same thing to his men earlier. “You will never forget him. He will always be remembered with great honor. But life moves on, Lady du Rennic, and Edward hopes to reward you with a husband to take care of you. Do you not believe Nathaniel would want you and your children taken care of?”
Avrielle couldn’t even answer him; all she could do was nod. Her throat was so tight with emotion that she didn’t trust herself to speak. There was nothing she could say that would change the situation so it was best not to say anything at all. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she nodded her head after a moment and tried not to burst into tears.
“Thank you for telling me what is to happen,” she said hoarsely. “I appreciate your honestly.”
Scott looked at her lowered head, feeling like a bit of a monster. But he also felt better in the sense that, now, she knew her fate. It was off of his shoulders and onto hers. Was it selfish of him to feel that way? Probably. The more he looked at her, seeing how stoically she had taken the news, the worse he began to feel.
“Be comforted, my lady,” he said. “Edward has already selected a fine lord who will more than likely come to Canaan at some point. You will be able to meet him and see for yourself that Edward only has your best interests at heart.”
Avrielle knew that was a lie. She knew enough about the politics of England to know that the king didn’t care for his vassals; it was all a political game to him, her included. De Wolfe was telling her all of this because he was trying to be of comfort, but Avrielle felt she was being lied to.
“Do you believe that?” she asked, her head coming up. She fixed him in the eye. “Tell me, my lord, if I was one of your daughters, would you truly believe what you just told me? Would you try to make it sound like something exciting and positive?”
Scott could have easily lied to her; it would have been the simple thing to do. But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not even to ease her. He’d done all of the lying he was going to do because she was more astute than he gave her credit for. He respected the fact that she knew the truth – she had no choice in this, no matter how she felt.
“I would tell my daughters what I just told you, if I had daughters,” he said quietly. “What I tell you is the truth; Edward only wants what is best.”
“For me or for him?”
“What would you have me tell you?”
“I would rather that you tell me the truth. Who is this lord Edward has selected for me?”
She seemed strong and ready for the reality of what was to come. He was coming to feel foolish for not having been forthright from the start, but something told him to still tread carefully. Women were amazingly strong creatures, but they could also be amazingly unpredictable.
“I do not know him,” he said. “He is a Scottish lord from Clan Douglas.”
“And you truly believe Edward is doing this out of respect to Nat?”
“He is doing it because Canaan is too valuable to waste. It is a political move.”
It was the meat of the situation. It was what she had asked for. Avrielle took a deep breath and averted her gaze.
“I thought so,” she said. “Thank you for being truthful. Was that all you wish to tell me?”
Her manner was clipped, defensive. Not that he blamed her. But he much preferred the warm woman he’d seen over the past several minutes. He didn’t like this hard manner at all, not coming from her. Hardness on Avrielle was grossly unnatural.
“That is all for now,” he said.
“Then do not let me keep you from your duties.”
She was essentially kicking him out. Scott’s gaze lingered on her lowered head a moment before silently turning for the door. He passed Stephen, who was gazing up at him with those big blue eyes, and then Sophia, who hadn’t said a word to him the entire time he’d been in the room. There was also an old woman lingering back in the shadows, but he didn’t pay her any attention. He was looking at the children, both of them staring at him with wide-open gazes and it took him back to the moment he’d first met them near the garden. Those frightened little faces as their mother was half-mad with grief. He hoped they weren’t about to return to that state because of the latest news. He paused at the door, his hand on the latch.
“My lady, if it was up to me, this would not have happened,” he said. “I am your liege but when it comes to the king, I have no say in the matter. All I can do is try to delay Edward’s choice in husbands for as long as I can. The fact that you have just given birth may give us an excuse to keep him away for several months. I will do my best.”
Avrielle wouldn’t look at him; she was more focused on the babe in her arms. Without a reply, Scott lifted the latch but was prevented from opening the door by Avrielle’s soft voice.
“Why?” she asked.
He paused and turned to her. “What do you mean?”
“Why would you delay Edward’s choice in husbands?”
Scott eyed the children a moment, their sweet little faces. “Out of respect to Nathaniel,” he said. “The man was loved. He should be well-mourned before another man comes to take his place.”
Avrielle digested that, but it was clear she was in a great deal of turmoil. Scott could see that she was trembling even from where he stood. When she didn’t say anything more, he tried to open the door again but she stopped him.
“I was told that Nat was killed by an arrow that was meant for you,” she said quietly. “Is that true?”
Scott was hugely reluctant to speak on that but he had no choice. He didn’t think it was the time or the place, given the immediate mood, but he didn’t dodge the question. He answered it.
“It is true.”
“My brother blames you for his death.”
“If I could have taken the arrow in Nathaniel’s place, I would have.”
Avrielle believed him; drawing on what Nathaniel had told her about him, she believed him to be an honorable and truthful man. “I do not blame you for his death now, although at the beginning, I did,” she said, her voice dull and quiet. “Before he left to go on campaign with you, I begged him not to go. He swore it would be his last campaign and that he would return home to watch his children grow. I believe I could have made him stay with me had I begged enough, but I did not. Do you know why?”
Scott shook his head slowly. “I do not. Why?”
The baby was finished nursing, now sleeping against her breast, and she stood up, turning her back to Scott as she covered herself back up and lay the baby carefully in her cradle.
Covering the infant with the swaddling that had been draped over her chest, she made her way over to Scott as he still stood by the door. He was watching her, closely, expecting an answer to his question. She turned her face to him, her gaze meeting his. There was something about the beauty of the woman’s face that made his heart race.
“Because he respected you a great deal,” Avrielle finally said. “He felt you were a fair and just liege. He thought he could help you and I trusted his judgment. But his respect for you cos
t him his life and, because of that, I want you to do something for me.”
Scott knew he shouldn’t ask, but he was compelled to. “What would you have me do, Lady du Rennic?”
She sighed heavily but her intense gaze never left him. “I do not want another husband.”
“I know.”
“Tell Edward I died in childbirth. Tell him I am dead and therefore cannot marry the lord he has chosen for me.”
Scott faltered. “It is with the greatest regret that I must tell you I cannot,” he said. “I cannot lie to the king.”
“My husband died because of you. You owe me something, Black Adder.”
She had progressed beyond her polite address of him and was now becoming more passionate by using a name that was only whispered of. Black Adder. The viper with the deadly strike. It was something his enemies had come up with over the past few years, something Scott didn’t like very much. By addressing him as she had, he was coming to sense she viewed him as an enemy as well. Perhaps he was for bringing her such news. Scott could see such fire in her eyes, such power.
The woman was made of granite.
“I do owe you, but I will not lie to the king,” he said steadily. “Even if I did, what do you think would happen? It is not as if he would leave Canaan alone. He would gift her to a new lord and the man would take over, and where would that leave you and your children?”
“Free.”
Scott was the one to sigh heavily now, although there was some frustration to it. “Nay, it would not,” he said. “Lady du Rennic, I know this is unsavory, but it cannot be changed. Edward has selected a husband for you and if Nathaniel were here, he would tell you to accept this gracefully. It is your duty.”
Her eyes narrowed briefly as her resistance to his words became evident. She turned away from him, then, showing him her shapely backside. Scott was torn between waiting for the next volley from her and letting his gaze roam freely over her curves. God, those curves were delicious. But something told him to be prepared for anything.
“Let me ask you a question,” she finally said. “If the king was demanding you take a new wife when you clearly did not want one, what would you do?”