Avrielle squeezed his hand again, purely to comfort him. “Then using your logic, I am at fault for letting Nat go to his death. I will never get over it, either.”
Scott shook his head, finding himself squeezing her fingers. They were so warm and soft, something he’d not felt in years. “Your situation is different.”
“Why?”
“Because Nathaniel was answering the call to battle. It was not within your power to deny him that obligation.”
She shook her head, pulling her hand away. “I could have,” she insisted. “Had I pleaded with him enough, he would not have gone. I did not try hard enough. Dear God, am I truly going to be like you for the rest of my life? Will I truly live with such guilt that it will separate me from everything I love? And what of this new husband Edward would force me to take? I will look at him and hate him because of that guilt.”
Scott could see that she was becoming distraught. Carefully, he disengaged himself from Stephen, laying the little boy next to his rush castle. Sitting up, Scott moved closer to Avrielle. He could see that her eyes were starting to water so he reached out, grasping her by the arms and forcing her to look at him.
“Listen to me,” he whispered. “This is not your guilt to assume. You know as well as I do that nothing you could have said or done would have prevented Nathaniel from answering the call to duty. Do you know what I see when I look at you? More guilt, because I issued the call and it was because of me that your husband was killed. Don’t you know that when I look at you, I see the pain I have caused you? If I could have taken Nathaniel’s place that day, know that I would happily do it a thousand times over. If I could give him back to you, I would.”
Avrielle looked at Scott, seeing naked sincerity on the man’s face. Everything about him was raw and honest, and she believed him without question. In fact, she saw almost a desperation about him to that regard, as if he thought throwing himself upon his sword would bring Nathaniel back to her, then he would do it. She found herself giving in to the comfort of his big hands, just as she’d once given in to the man’s comfort in the garden the first time she met him.
Something about him touching her… God, it would be so easy to…
“I know you would,” she said quietly. “I believe you would. I suppose… I suppose I see that you have not reconciled your loss even though it has been years and it frightens me that I might do the same thing.”
Scott pondered her words but he didn’t let her go. He rather liked the feel of her, this woman with whom he shared a strange but powerful bond.
“You will not be like me,” he said frankly. “Surely you have better sense than I do.”
Avrielle thought she could see that flicker of warmth back in his eye. “I fear I am exactly like you,” she said. “I loved my husband as you loved your wife. Do you suppose that you shall ever find peace, my lord?”
Scott thought on the sleeping boy next to him and the healing he’d done in the short time he’d been at Canaan. Aye, he’d healed some and that was surprising. He’d probably healed more in just a few days than he had in the past four years. Gazing at Avrielle’s face, he began to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Odd how that realization just came to him; if a broken family could begin healing for him, then perhaps there was hope.
Perhaps in that broken family, there was hope. Staring into Avrielle’s face, a thought occurred to him – why can I not find hope in her?
“I hope so,” he said after a moment. “I do not want to be like this for the rest of my life. Once, I was resigned to it, but now… now, I am not entirely certain.”
Avrielle looked at him curiously, perhaps even anxiously. “Then you do not feel as if you shall feel guilty for the rest of your life?”
He shook his head, dropping his hands from her arms although he was reluctant to do it. He felt that it would be best if he did considering the thoughts he was thinking about the woman even as he looked at her. Bright, beautiful… and widowed. That thought had occurred to him before, but not like this. Never like this. Edward already had a potential husband selected for her.
But what if that potential husband was a de Wolfe?
He wondered.
“I do not know,” he said honestly. “But one can hope for healing. Even speaking with you now, as I have done – do you know I have never told anyone what I told you?”
Her eyes widened. “Never?”
He shook his head. “Not like I did with you,” he said, feeling overwhelmed with what he was thinking, what he was feeling. “It is not something I’ve spoken of since it happened.”
Avrielle could see that he seemed either confused by it or upset by it. Now, he wasn’t looking her in the eye any longer; it appeared he was afraid to. Gently, she put a hand on his arm.
“I will not tell anyone, I swear it,” she said. “I would never tell anyone what you told me.”
He shrugged, feeling her hand on his arm like a searing brand. The woman made his heart race in a way it hadn’t raced in years.
“It is not as if it is a big secret,” he said, rolling to his knees before rising to his feet. “Your brother knew enough of it last night to throw it in my face, so I suppose everyone knows what has happened. It is a tragic tale in a world full of tragic tales; mine is no different.”
Avrielle stood up because he was, but she was looking at him with some displeasure. “My brother spoke of it cruelly to you?” she asked.
Scott nodded. “He did.”
She frowned, outraged. “I cannot believe he would do such a thing,” she said. “I will speak to him immediately. He shall know that I greatly disapprove of such a…”
Scott put up a hand, quieting her because Stephen rolled onto his back, semi-roused by the raised voice of his mother. They both watched the child as he yawned and quickly drifted off to sleep again. Only then did Scott speak.
“It is not necessary,” he said. “He knows what I thought of his disrespect. You do not need to involve yourself.”
Avrielle wasn’t certain about that. She shook her head angrily. “Sometimes, my brother can be most foolish,” she said. “He continues to try my patience, day after day.”
“Then why do you allow him to remain here?”
She looked at him, surprised. “Because… because he is my brother. But that is not a good enough reason, not when he creates such havoc.”
Considering the order Scott had given Stewart the night before, that Jeremy was to be banished from Canaan, he eyed Avrielle as she spoke of her brother, thinking he should probably tell her all of it.
“I suppose I should be honest about your brother,” he said. “Last night, he and I had a falling out. A fight, in fact. I have given orders that he be sent away from Canaan.”
Avrielle went from great disapproval to great shock. “You did?” she gasped.
“I did.”
“And… and my father?”
“He is welcome to stay. Your father is the only reasonable du Rennic man I have met since I came here.”
Avrielle considered what she’d been told. Truthfully, she wasn’t surprised by any of it. But she found herself torn. Jeremy was rash, brutal, and constantly challenging her authority at Canaan, but he was still her brother. He wasn’t truly evil. But he did, indeed, create chaos.
“I suppose it is for the best,” she said. “I am not entirely sure you would ever know a moment’s peace if he remained here.”
Scott could sense that she was, perhaps, saddened by his order. He didn’t like to see her saddened.
“If you do not wish for me to send him away, I will not,” he said quietly.
She looked at him, surprised. “I… I do not understand. I never said…”
“I know you did not. But you have already lost one man you love. If it would pain you to send away your brother, then I would not wish to cause you any more pain.”
It was nearly the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her, much less such words coming from the great and noble Scott de
Wolfe. Her heart began to beat just a little faster, seeing that warmth in Scott’s eyes again but feeling that there was more there this time. There was something deeper going on, a deeper meaning, a deeper feeling, and her heart, so broken as of late, began to feel what their entire conversation, for the most part, had revolved around – hope. Was there hope she wouldn’t feel such pain anymore, such guilt? When she looked into Scott’s eyes, she almost believed that it could happen. He was so very kind to be concerned for her feelings. Impulsively, she reached up and put a soft hand on his scratchy, stubbled cheek.
“You are so very considerate,” she said. “But you must do what is best for you and for Canaan. I know that Jeremy is trouble. He is not wicked, but he is stubborn and headstrong. But you already know that. If you feel you must send him away, then I will not question your decision. And for the thought and consideration you have given me since your arrival at Canaan, you have been more than fair considering the way you have been treated. For everything… thank you.”
Scott found himself looking into that sweet face, feeling her heated palm against his face and resisting an overwhelming urge to pull the woman into his arms. His heart was beating so loudly in his ears that he was certain she could hear it. But she flashed him a warm smile, dropped her hand, and turned away, heading for the chamber door. Scott watched her go, having trouble breathing because he was so swept up in her gentle touch.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked, thinking he sounded husky and breathless.
Avrielle was nearly to the door, coming to a pause. When she looked at him curiously, he pointed to the child still sleeping on the floor. She grinned.
“If he is bothering you, I will take him with me,” she said.
He shook his head. “He is no trouble,” he replied. “But I must dress. My squires will be here shortly and the noise will awaken him.”
Avrielle’s gaze lingered on her son. “If it is not too much to ask, Stephen loves to watch knights as they dress. Would it be too much to ask if he can watch you?”
“It is not too much to ask.”
Avrielle’s smile warmed his heart. Scott was actually feeling a little faint at the sight of it, such a beautiful gesture from a beautiful woman. But she turned away once more and quit the chamber, leaving him standing there and trying to catch his breath. He was feeling a little foolish, but it was one of the most wonderful feelings he’d experienced in a long while and he’d realized that the creature that had been trying to claw its way out of him had finally accomplished its task. He was feeling emotion and liking it. He’d forgotten that giddiness like that still existed.
Fighting off a grin, he went about preparing for the coming day.
As Avrielle quietly closed Scott’s door and moved swiftly and silently back to her chamber, she caught the attention of a few du Rennic soldiers, who were up in one of the towers and happened to see her leaving de Wolfe’s chamber. Being that it was at dawn, and she was moving quickly and silently from de Wolfe’s room, there was only one conclusion they could come to.
Within an hour, whispers of Lady du Rennic spending the night in de Wolfe’s chamber were running rampant throughout Canaan.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Did you hear the latest?” Stanley grunted.
It was the nooning meal and a storm had settled over the land, bringing heavy rain to the very wet spring. The de Wolfe knights were sharing warmed meat from the previous night when Stanley entered the smoke-filled hall. The wind was blowing the smoke back down the chimney and great, blue clouds of it were billowing out into the chamber. Therefore, the knights were as close to the door as they could possibly be, breathing the fresher air. But Stanley’s words had them looking up from their trenchers.
“Latest on what?” Milo asked.
Stanley grunted heavily as he plopped down onto the warped bench, gesturing to a nearby servant for food. “De Wolfe and Lady du Rennic,” he muttered, eyeing the men at the table. “Gossip is flying throughout the castle that de Wolfe has taken her to his bed. Some du Rennic soldiers saw her leaving his chamber at dawn.”
Milo swallowed the bite in his mouth. “I have heard,” he said, turning back to his food. “It is not our business what de Wolfe does.”
Stanley shook his head. “Nay, it is not, but you know the du Rennic knights are going to be up in arms over it,” he said, agitated. “If we have heard, surely they have heard, and after that battle last night, they are going to be out for blood.”
Milo stopped short of putting food in his mouth as he looked at Stanley. “It is none of their affair, either,” he said, with growing annoyance. “Why are you so worried about them? What de Wolfe and Lady du Rennic do is not their affair.”
“What is not their affair?”
The men at the table turned to see Stewart enter the hall, shaking off the rain from his cloak. In fact, by the time he’d swung the cloak off of his shoulders, he still didn’t have an answer and he looked to the group curiously.
“Answer me. What were you speaking of?”
Milo answered reluctantly. “The rumors that Lady du Rennic was seen leaving de Wolfe’s chamber this morning. Stanley was expressing his concern that the du Rennic knights will be out for blood over it.”
Stewart’s gaze lingered on the knights; Milo, his equal in rank, Stanley the agitator, Raymond the beast, and Jean-Pierre the wise one. Stanley would complain, Raymond would simply do what the others were doing without thinking it through for himself, and Jean-Pierre would stay out of it. Now, they were facing the gossip that had been flying around the castle all morning and they were handling it just the way he thought they would – calmly. Hanging his cloak on a peg near the door to dry off, Stewart approached the table.
“It does not matter how they feel about it for it is not their concern,” he said, sitting down next to Milo. “In fact, it is not your concern, either. De Wolfe is free to do as he wishes with a consenting woman.”
While the others shut their mouths, Milo turned to him. “The woman just had a child,” he muttered. “Do you really think de Wolfe would force her into his bed?”
Stewart shrugged. “If he does, that is his business,” he said. “As for the du Rennic knights, I have been ordered to exile Jeremy Huntley from Canaan. After what happened last night, de Wolfe is finished with the man’s idiocy. He wants him gone.”
It wasn’t a surprising order but it was the first time the collection of de Wolfe knights had heard of it.
“When?” Stanley asked. “More than that, can I help you with it? I would like to see Jeremy’s face as he is thrown out of these walls.”
Stewart reached out for a cup of wine as servants came near the table, bearing trenchers of warmed meat and boiled, mushy vegetables. He waited until the servants moved away before replying.
“Jeremy took a serious beating at the hands of de Wolfe last night and must have time to heal before he is removed,” he said. “That is a decision I have made because Gordon requested it. Jeremy is in no shape to be moved right now, and the others aren’t in much better condition. It seems that we soundly beat all of them last night.”
Across the table, Raymond and Jean-Pierre clinked their cups together in a celebratory fashion. Even Stanley grinned as he turned back to his food. They were all proud of their handiwork but Stewart wasn’t so gleeful. He dug into his food hungrily.
“In any case, none of the knights are well enough to be moved or removed,” he said, shoveling food into his mouth. “So I cannot tell you exactly when Jeremy shall leave. I have a feeling when he leaves, the others will go, which would be foolish of them but there is great loyalty to that bunch.”
“And they are loyal to Lady du Rennic,” Milo said. “I am not entirely sure that even great injuries will keep them confined if they truly intend to seek revenge for de Wolfe bedding Nathaniel’s wife. They would not give up so easily on something they would consider a matter of honor.”
Stewart swallowed the bite in his mouth. “I ag
ree,” he said. “Therefore, all we can do is be vigilant. If the knights cannot exact revenge because of their injuries, there are several hundred du Rennic soldiers they could command to their will.”
That was the truth; the du Rennic soldiers were very loyal to their knights. That had been made obvious.
“Will you at least ask de Wolfe if the rumors are true?” Milo asked. “If we are to be vigilant to protect both ourselves and de Wolfe, then I think we have a right to know.”
Stewart looked at Milo. “I will not ask him anything,” he said flatly. “If he wants me to know, he will tell me. I would not ask a man who has been grieving over the past four years if he is finally coming out of the darkness and into the light. That is his business, gentle knights. It is no concern of mine unless he wants it to be. But I would think…”
He was cut off when another figure entered the hall, an unfamiliar man bearing a red tunic with golden lions on it. The man was dressed from head to toe in mail, heavy plate on his arms, and an oiled-cloth cloak that was expensive and fine. As the de Wolfe knights turned to the man, he zeroed in on Stewart and headed in the man’s direction.
“You,” he said, pointing at Stewart. “Where is de Wolfe?”
Stewart stood up, coming face to face with the king’s messenger, the one who had delivered the missive the day before. He’d seen the man after dawn, breaking his fast, and he’d told the man that de Wolfe wasn’t ready to draft a reply to Edward yet. Therefore, the messenger’s appearance was unexpected. His tone, as he spoke in demands, was even more unexpected.
“He is in his chamber, I believe,” Stewart replied evenly. “I told you that he had not yet written a reply to Edward.”
The messenger was clearly upset over something. He faced Stewart angrily, water from the storm outside dripping off of his nose.
“Mayhap that is because he is busy bedding the Lady of Canaan,” he said in a snide remark. “What do you take me for? A fool? I am not simply a messenger; I am a knight from Edward’s circle. He entrusted this task to me because he felt it was important, so I know what was contained in the missive I delivered. I know that the king has selected a husband for the Lady of Canaan, but now I hear that de Wolfe is bedding her? Is that why he is delaying a reply to the king?”
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 188