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

by Kathryn Le Veque

  She wasn’t sure how to respond to him. “But you cannot prevent such a thing,” she said softly. “If Edward wishes for me to marry a Scottish lord, then I have no say in it. Nor do you. I would live the rest of my life in terrible guilt if the king were to become angry with you because you tried to protect me. But know that I am deeply grateful for your efforts. You are a kind and gracious man to be so concerned for me.”

  Scott listened to her soft voice, thinking that she didn’t sound so disgusted by his lie as he had originally thought. In fact, she sounded quite grateful for it. Hope blossomed anew in his heart.

  “Concerned, aye,” he muttered. “But in a sense, your situation is my fault. Nathaniel died to save me. It is, therefore, important that I take responsibility for Nathaniel’s family. Edward would not be angry if my lie was not a lie at all.”

  Avrielle cocked her head curiously. “What do you mean?”

  “If we were actually married.”

  Oddly enough, she didn’t react right away. She simply sat there and looked at him. In truth, Avrielle was in a bit of shock; thoughts of marrying Scott were not new to her but she had no idea he felt the same way. God’s Bones… was it really possible? Was he truly amiable to marrying her?

  Avrielle remembered thinking that if she had to marry again, Scott would be an agreeable choice. He was handsome… God, the man was incredibly handsome… but they also had a bond that was difficult to deny. Not only did they share the same grief at the loss of a spouse, but the man had delivered Sorsha. He had cared for both her and her child in a situation that could have been quite devastating.

  Aye, Avrielle was attached to Scott. She could admit it. Did she love him? In truth, she wasn’t entirely sure. She still loved Nathaniel, but the man was never coming back and she was resigned to the fact. It didn’t mean there wasn’t room in her heart for someone she had a great deal in common with, a man she admired greatly.

  A man that, perhaps, she could love someday.

  “Do you feel that we should be married?” she asked after a moment. “I do not want you to feel that you are obligated to do so. You have enough burdens in your life without taking a wife you do not want.”

  Scott looked at her; really looked at her. He didn’t sense she was resistant to the suggestion but it was difficult to tell. He’d never been any good at reading women, anyway.

  “If you are opposed to it, I will not suggest it again,” he said.

  She shook her head. “I did not say I was opposed to it,” she said quietly, looking down at the baby when it began to fuss because her milk was running dry on that breast. “In fact, it would be a great honor. But I do not want you to regret it because you acted on impulse.”

  It was actually a very wise response and Scott considered that as she put the baby on the other breast. He didn’t even look away, now gazing at her full naked breasts as the infant nursed. They were beautiful beyond measure. She was beautiful beyond measure. Unable to maintain his seat, he stood up and, very slowly, headed in her direction.

  He simply couldn’t control himself any longer.

  “I am not impulsive, in any fashion,” he said, his voice low as he came up beside her. “I cannot explain myself, Avrielle. All I know is that I could not stand the thought of you married to anyone else. There; I’ve said it. I do not want you to marry anyone. Edward intends to use you as a pawn in his political games and I could not stand by and watch you marry a lord who would treat you as property. You would never be respected; he might even abuse you. The Scottish lord is a man Edward is attempting to court and he has nothing to lose by raping Canaan for her wealth and leaving you to starve. I simply could not stand by and watch that happen. You deserve better. Mayhap I am foolish to think I am worthy of you, but I was a good husband once before. I would be again. And you would want for nothing.”

  He was standing behind her at this point; Avrielle could feel him. She could feel his heat behind her and her breathing began to come in labored gasps as her heart fluttered wildly with excitement. He was watching her; she knew that, perhaps even looking at her naked flesh and the mere thought made her entire body tremble with anticipation. Both breasts were bare and although her daughter was nursing from one of them, it didn’t erase the fact that she was a virile woman and he was a virile man, of flesh and blood and feeling. A shudder ran through her.

  “You cannot know how I have longed to hear this,” she whispered. “Although I adore Nat and I always will, you have been heavily on my mind. There is such pain in you but there is also a strong will to survive. You could have crumbled when your wife and children were killed, but you did not. You fought the only way you knew how, just as I did. Mayhap… mayhap we can understand this new world, together, for it would give me great pride to call you husband. And I would be devoted to you, and only you, until I die.”

  Scott was standing over her, looking down at her head, the infant against her breast, and feeling his heart swell in ways he could hardly comprehend. He came around to the front of her, taking a knee and bringing himself to her eye level. The expression on his face was nothing short of raw as he gazed into her eyes.

  “Swear it to me,” he breathed.

  She nodded fervently. “I swear it.”

  It was all Scott needed to hear. Those three words cemented something into his heart and soul that he would never again lose, cementing faith that he thought he’d lost. Faith that there would be happiness again in his life and faith that there was hope for the future. He thought he’d lost those feelings long ago, but Avrielle had somehow managed to bring them back. The realization nearly overwhelmed him.

  As the babe nursed at her breast, Scott brought his hands up, cupping Avrielle’s sweet face. All he did was stare at her for a moment, feeling her soft flesh beneath his hands, hardly believing this moment was upon him. It didn’t seem real. Yet, Avrielle was very real in his hands, her skin warm and delicate in his palms, and those lips he’d admired from afar were calling to him.

  This time, he answered the call.

  His mouth slanted over hers, warm and gentle, as her scent filled his nostrils, intoxicating him. It was a defining moment for him because it spoke of untold promises, unspoken words, and a future he thought he’d lost. He could taste her sweetness upon his lips and he feasted on her, listening to her soft gasps of pleasure as he suckled her lips.

  His kisses grew bolder, more demanding, but he knew this wasn’t the place for such things. This was only the beginning of what was to come and his mouth left hers, kissing her cheeks, her nose, her eyes, before moving down her neck. Gentle kisses rained over that beautiful neck and onto the swell of her beautiful breasts, feeling the soft and gentle skin against his lips.

  As she quivered beneath his touch, he kissed her right breast, kissing the nipple and tasting her milk upon it, before moving to the left breast and kissing the infant that was latched to her. It was part of her and therefore something precious to him, even if the child wasn’t his. But in a sense, the child did belong to him, and he hoped that Nathaniel would approve that little Sorsha should grow up calling him her father. Somehow, he suspected Nathaniel would give his blessing. For any father, to have a decent man tend the family he left behind was the greatest of blessings, indeed.

  When he lifted his head to say something to Avrielle, there were tears streaming down her cheeks and he paused, his brow furrowing with concern as his big thumbs wiped the tears away.

  “Why do you weep?” he whispered. “Tell me.”

  She smiled through her tears. “They are not tears of sadness,” she murmured. “They are tears of joy. I feel such joy at this moment that I could shout it to the world.”

  A smile played on Scott’s lips. “We shall both shout it to the world soon enough,” he said. Then, he sobered. “For my part, it has been a very long time since I have felt such emotion. You will forgive me if, at times, I cannot adequately express it. I have spent the past four years ignoring any emotion that threatened to surface. It has
been a habit with me to ignore rather than to feel. I hope you will be patient.”

  Gently, Avrielle touched his stubbled cheek, caressing the stubble beneath her fingers. “You will have all of my patience and understanding,” she ensured him. “Mayhap we shall learn to feel things that neither of us has ever felt before. I can dream for such things, you know.”

  His smile broke through and he leaned forward, kissing her forehead before finally standing up. “I like your dreams,” he said. “I will dream for the same.”

  Avrielle smiled up at him, feeling the impact of the moment. It was surreal. But the child at her breast was finally satisfied and she forced herself to focus on the infant, pulling her bodice up even as she put the infant over her shoulder to burp the child.

  All the while, however, Scott watched her with an expression she’d never seen before. It was as if that guard he always had in front of him, that shield wall he’d put there on the day he’d lost his family, was finally lowered.

  For Avrielle, it was gone.

  It was a new day for both of them.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Castle Canaan

  With Scott and Stewart off to Kendal, Milo was in charge of the mighty bastion of Canaan. If was just after the nooning meal as he made his way around the battlements, vigilant as he watched the activity both outside and inside the castle.

  Being that Canaan was built as a shell keep, meaning the living quarters, kitchens, and hall were built against the perimeter wall, the battlements were a narrow walk that went around the entire top of the walls. Reached by two sets of spiral stairs, designed to make it very difficult for intruders to mount the battlements, they were also dangerous because the parapet itself was only about three feet high. Men had been known to fall over the side, head first into the moat three stories below. Therefore, Milo was careful as he paced.

  There were sections of the battlements that had fighting platforms jutting out from the walls. These, too, were rather dangerous and narrow, but it gave the defenders more room to work with. Scott and his men had seen that when they’d been locked out of Canaan those weeks ago because those platforms had held men more than willing to prevent them from regaining control of the castle.

  A tactical move that Huntley had been paying for ever since Scott had retaken the castle.

  But the situation was peaceful now for the most part. With the bright blue sky above and the vibrant, green hills surrounding them, it was quite sublime, as if the rebellious du Rennic knights were only a faded memory. As Milo looked over to the south side of the wall walk and relived the beating the du Rennic knights had been given, for it made for some arrogant recollection, footsteps came up behind him. He turned to see Stanley on the approach.

  “Well?” Milo asked, breaking from his thoughts. “Did Jeremy Huntley survive the move from the barracks?”

  Stanley nodded but it was clear he was perturbed which, for Stanley, was his normal state. “He did,” he grunted. “But from the posturing going on with his fellow knights, you would have thought we were sending him to his death. They did not want any of us to move Jeremy; they had to do it, but they are so injured from the beating we gave them that they could hardly move him. It was slow-going the entire time as Gordon tried to keep the peace. The man is a saint, Milo. Jeremy and those wild dogs that call themselves knights do not deserve his loyalty.”

  Milo grinned. “I am sorry I missed it,” he said. “But someone has to keep watch. I’ve got a mix of du Rennic and de Wolfe soldiers on the walls, but you just never know when a fight will break out. The tensions still run deep, even after two weeks.”

  Stanley knew that. He looked around, seeing de Wolfe soldiers in groups on the battlements and then du Rennic soldiers in separate groups. It was like a standoff.

  “Do they not mix at all?” he asked, pointing to the two distinct factions. “God’s Bones, they are both on watch. Do they not know they are supposed to work together?”

  Milo shook his head. “Evidently not,” he said, rubbing at his upper thigh where his groin injury was healing, but slowly. “In truth, I do not know if they will ever mix. There is bad blood here, Stanley. I am not entirely sure de Wolfe is aware of how bad.”

  Stanley leaned on the battlements, his gaze moving out over the brilliant green landscape.

  “Stu knows,” he said. “Surely he has told de Wolfe.”

  Milo shrugged. “I am sure he has, but whether or not de Wolfe is listening is another matter,” he said. “He has had other things on his mind with Edward’s messenger and Lady du Rennic and that whole bloody political situation. I am not entirely sure he has the pulse of the men in his command.”

  Stanley glanced at him. “He always knows what is happening. He is not out of touch.”

  “Nay, not out of touch, but certainly not in the thick of it the way Stewart and I are.”

  Stanley cocked his head. “Do you believe something is coming? A rebellion from the du Rennic men, mayhap? God, not another one.”

  Milo really didn’t know. “It is just a feeling I have,” he said quietly. “I have been a knight many years. I have seen what divisiveness looks like. I fear that Scott has a bigger problem than he realizes.”

  Stanley wasn’t sure what to say to that. Milo began to move down the wall walk towards the eastern side of the wall and he followed.

  “Then Stu should make sure he understands,” Stanley said. “Why hasn’t Stu been more insistent with de Wolfe?”

  “It is a delicate situation.”

  Stanley had less tact than Milo had and spoke what they were both thinking. “Because for the first time since his wife’s death, Scott is showing interest in a woman?” he asked bluntly. “And not just any woman; Nathaniel du Rennic’s widow. Does he not know what the men are saying about him? That he is a following the woman around as if she is a bitch in heat?”

  Milo looked at him, sharply. “It was explained to you why Lady du Rennic was seen leaving de Wolfe’s chambers,” he said. “Why are you so willing to believe poorly of de Wolfe? He is your liege, Moncrief. If I were you, I would watch my tongue when it comes to Scott de Wolfe.”

  Stanley backed down. “I am only repeating what I have heard,” he said. “I have not repeated it to anyone. My loyalty is to de Wolfe and always shall be. But there is more going on at this castle than he is aware of.”

  “Make no mistake. De Wolfe is aware.”

  Stanley didn’t say anything more, mostly because he didn’t want to appear as if he were speaking ill of his liege. If that got back to Scott, it would go badly for him. As he thought on something else to say, because a change of subject would have been welcome as far as he was concerned, he caught sight of a horse and rider emerging from the northern gatehouse and heading straight into the heavy line of trees that surrounded the brook just to the north.

  The rider was cloaked, and moving very quickly, disappearing into the winter-dead trees with great stealth. Had Stanley not been looking right at the northern side of the fortress, he surely would have missed it because the rider had moved just that quickly. Blink and he was gone. Curious, Stanley began to wonder if he even saw such a thing.

  “Did you see that?” Milo suddenly hissed.

  Stanley pointed to the trees. “Do you mean the rider?”

  “Aye.”

  Stanley nodded firmly. “I saw it clearly,” he said. “Who do you suppose that was?”

  Milo shook his head, quickly making his way to the tower at the northwest corner of Canaan. The tower had better visibility than where they’d been standing on the battlements and there were two de Wolfe soldiers on the tower, both of them looking to the trees to the north. Milo spoke to one of them.

  “Did you just see a horse and rider bolt from Canaan and disappear in the trees?” he asked.

  The man, an older soldier, nodded. “Aye, my lord,” he said, pointing to the heavy trees that lined the brook, or beck as it was called, all the way up into the hills and disappearing over the summit. “A clo
aked rider on a warhorse.”

  Milo’s eyebrows lifted. “Warhorse?” he repeated. “Are you certain?”

  The soldier nodded. “Aye, my lord,” he replied. “The horse was big and scarred.”

  “Did you recognize it?”

  The soldier shook his head. “Nay, my lord. The horse does not belong to de Wolfe.”

  “How would you know that?”

  The soldier looked at him. “I have been with de Wolfe for fifteen years, my lord,” he said. “I know all of the horses that the knights ride and more besides. It was not one of our horses.”

  Milo’s puzzlement only grew, looking at Stanley, who was baffled as well. Together, the knights and the old soldier moved to the edge of the tower battlements, which protruded slightly. From this position, they could clearly see the exterior of the gatehouse and they could see that the portcullis was closing. It occurred to Milo that there were men who had seen the rider close up, men who were currently lowering the portcullis. Something more occurred to him.

  “The north gatehouse has mostly du Rennic soldiers manning it,” he muttered to Stanley. “And that warhorse did not belong to any of us. That leads me to believe that a du Rennic soldier has just left Canaan and wanted to make very sure he was not seen by quickly losing himself in the trees before he could be identified.”

  Stanley was greatly puzzled. “But why? That makes little sense.”

  “Did you not say that there is still division between the men?”

  Stanley wasn’t quite following him. “Aye, there is, but….”

  “Think,” Milo cut him off. “De Wolfe has overpowered the Canaan soldiers. He has subdued the du Rennic knights. Essentially, they are defeated. What if someone has gone for help against de Wolfe?”

  Stanley’s eyebrows flew up in surprise. “Seeking reinforcements?”

  Milo was starting to feel the burn of battle in his stomach. “I can think of no other reason a lone du Rennic rider would leave Canaan. Can you?”

  Stanley couldn’t. But he knew who had the answers. “I will go down and ask the soldiers on guard who it was,” he said, popping his knuckles in anticipation of having to use his fists on men who would not give him the answers he sought. “I will find out where the rider was going.”