WolfeLord: de Wolfe Pack Generations

by Kathryn Le Veque

Ransom.

  It was true that he would not work for his money. He never had. The only thing he had really ever done to earn money was gamble and, at the moment, he had nothing to gamble with. But ransom had always been a way for men to make money, especially knights who tended to ransom their enemies. At tournaments, mass competitions were all about ransoming men who had been defeated, so ransom was a very good idea.

  … but who to ransom?

  There were two very wealthy families at Carlisle at the moment – de Wolfe and de Lohr. De Lohr owned about half of the Welsh Marches while de Wolfe controlled or owned most of the Scottish Marches. There was massive money to be made were he to ransom one of their own.

  The problem was that he wasn’t a good enough warrior and there were only men to ransom.

  … or were there?

  He’d heard that Lady Warenton was in residence, an elderly woman who was the matriarch of the entire de Wolfe empire. She was a possibility, but she also had sons and a husband who controlled thousands of men and he could very well find himself drawn and quartered if he tried to abduct her for ransom.

  Lady Warenton was out.

  The next possibility was his own daughter, but surely they wouldn’t pay for her return and Adria would give him too much of a fight.

  His daughter was out.

  That left him with two weaker possibilities, but they were possibilities that both families would pay handsomely for. Why only ransom to one family when he could ransom to two? There were two children at Carlisle that were of de Wolfe and de Lohr blood, and both of them were sons of the heir to the entire de Wolfe empire and son of a de Lohr daughter. There was Atticus, the older son, but Gar had been watching him for a while and the child was a terror. More than likely, he would make it very difficult for Gar to abduct him and hold on to him. A child like that would make a lot of noise and fight back.

  But there was a second child who couldn’t fight back.

  The newborn.

  Aye, the families would pay well to have the baby returned unharmed.

  Adria had said that she and a wet nurse and Lady Warenton had been tending him, so he knew the child wasn’t well-guarded. But he was in the keep and Gar would have to get in and get out without being seen. He didn’t worry about the women because he could silence them easily enough, but he did worry about the guards at both gatehouses. He’d have to be fully packed, ready to depart, and then abduct the child and put him in one of his saddlebags. It would be a nice, comfortable hiding place for the infant while he rode from the outer gatehouse and to freedom beyond.

  Then, he’d set about ransoming the infant.

  Ten pounds? More like one hundred pounds. If this was his chance to finally make the money that his daughter had denied him, then he was going to make as much as he could.

  The wheels of the plan were in motion.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Marcellus?”

  Seated in the dusty, cluttered armory upon a stool, looking at the floor, Marcellus lifted his head when he heard his name. He blinked because the door was open and the light from outside was shining in, but he could see a silhouette standing in the doorway.

  He knew the voice.

  “My lord,” he said, realizing it was Will. Standing up, he grabbed the nearest weapon, pretending to be busy. “How can I be of service?”

  Will came into the armory, his gaze fixed on the auburn-haired knight. He’d been looking for him for about an hour but no one seemed to know where he was. Usually, Marcellus was at one of the gatehouses, always in command, always vigilant and visible.

  But Will found him hiding in one of the old armories built into the outer wall.

  That wasn’t like him.

  “I’ve not been in here in a long time,” Will said, looking around the dirty, dusty mess. Reaching out, he picked up a spear and looked at the rusty tip. “All of this was left from the previous command. I thought we’d cleaned it all up.”

  Marcellus shook his head. “There are three such armories like this one,” he said. “We’ve been working on the other two because they’re larger. The weapons in this one are mostly crumbling. I’m not sure how much we can improve upon them.”

  Will peered at the rusty head before setting the spear back against the wall. “Hopefully, we can salvage them before the Scots try to take the castle back,” he said in jest, picking up one of the wooden shields only to discover that it was broken. Gingerly, he set it down. “I think some of these things were used by the Romans.”

  Marcellus smiled weakly. “I would not be surprised, my lord.”

  Will looked at a broken mace before turning his full attention to Marcellus. “And it would probably also not surprise you that I’ve not come to discuss broken weapons.”

  “My lord?”

  “I came about Lily.”

  Marcellus’ entire expression changed; Will could see it. He couldn’t shut the armory door without shutting out the light and plunging them into darkness, so he went to stand by the opening to make sure no one was around to overhear their conversation.

  Marcellus didn’t give him the opportunity to speak first.

  “You have my deepest sympathies, my lord,” he said, seemingly struggling with his composure. “We all had a great deal of respect for Lady Irthington. I have known her for many years and I know she will be missed.”

  He was prattling on, perhaps nervously, and Will put up a hand to silence him. “Marcellus,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I know. I have always known.”

  Marcellus coughed as if choking on the words that he was preparing to give forth. His head came up and he looked at Will, his eyes wrought with confusion and emotion.

  “Know… know what, my lord?” he said feebly.

  Will kept his hand up to ease the man, who was clearly shaken by the direction the conversation had taken.

  “I know that you offered for Lily’s hand long ago,” he said quietly. “I know that Lily loved you. I know that she continued to love you for the duration of our marriage. Marcellus, I’ve not come to condemn you. In fact, I have always had a great deal of sympathy for you. You and Lily loved one another, but her father demanded she marry me. I had about as much choice in the matter as you and Lily had, so I’ve come to tell you something that I’ve always wanted to say to you.”

  Marcellus looked as if he were about to become ill. “My… my lord?”

  Will took a deep breath. “I wanted to tell you that I am sorry,” he said. “Had I not come along, it is very possible that Chris would have allowed you to marry Lily, but he did not and, for that, I am sorry. I am sorry that I had no voice in the matter. I was young at the time and it didn’t occur to me to refuse. I had my own father to consider, as you know, and refusing a de Lohr marriage would have probably seen him come down on me harder than most. I am sorry that I came between you and Lily.”

  Marcellus’ expression moved from apprehensive to shocked. He stared at Will for several long moments before sinking back onto the stool he’d been sitting on. He seemed rather dazed.

  “I… I do not even know what to say,” he said, his voice quivering. “For you to apologize is… madness. Pure madness. You are Lily’s legal and true husband. If anyone should apologize, it should be me. I should apologize for my less than noble behavior. I should apologize for loving your wife when I had no right to. I thought that I would overcome my feelings for her when she married you, but I never did. They are stronger today than they were when I first fell in love with her. I knew I was doing wrong by carrying on with her in secret, but I loved her. I will never love another.”

  Will could hear the anguish in the man’s voice and it only made him feel guiltier that he’d kept him from the woman he loved. It had been such a terrible and complicated situation for them all.

  “You needn’t apologize,” he said. “I never blamed you. As for carrying on behind my back, you were so careful about it that not even Adria knew and she slept in the same chamber as Lily did for years. How on
earth you conceived both Atticus and the new baby is something I shall never understand.”

  Marcellus closed his eyes tightly and hung his head. “Did Lily tell you that?”

  “Nay.”

  Marcellus sighed heavily. “Then I will not ask how you know,” he said. “But please know that we never enjoyed deceiving you. There was always a great deal of guilt about it, but our love was stronger than our guilt.”

  Will knew that. In times past, perhaps he wouldn’t have understood the strength of love, but since the introduction of Adria and the delicate relationship they were building, there was a glimmer of comprehension there. He couldn’t imagine loving a woman and not being able to be with her. He couldn’t imagine loving Adria only to see her marry another man.

  That was a scenario that Marcellus had to face for many years.

  “Marcellus, none of this was fair, least of all to you and Lily,” he said. “You have given your life to a woman you could never have and that is either an incredibly stupid man or an incredibly selfless one. I choose to believe the latter because you and I have served together for many years. I know you and I know your character. Because none of this was fair to you or to Lily, I am going to ask you a question and I want a completely honest answer. Will you do this for me?”

  Marcellus looked at him, nodding firmly. “Of course, my lord. I swear it.”

  “Do you wish to return to Lioncross with Chris and take the infant with you to raise as your son?”

  Marcellus gasped as if an unseen hand had hit him in the gut. “What?” he hissed. “You… you want me to take the child?”

  The man’s shock was a palpable thing, causing Will to pity him more than he already did. “It seems only fair to me that you should be allowed to raise your child with the woman you love,” he said. “Atticus is too old, but the infant… he would only know you as his father. You can simply tell everyone that your wife perished in childbirth, which is mostly the truth. I am certain Chris would never say differently.”

  “But what about the people at Carlisle?” Marcellus asked. “They know Lily gave birth to a living child. How would you explain his absence?”

  “Infants are fragile beings. They die frequently. No one would disbelieve the infant died shortly after birth.”

  Marcellus stared at him for a moment before rising to his feet. The emotion was gone from his face, replaced by something strong and appreciative. Will’s understanding of the situation had been like a salve for Marcellus’ grieving heart.

  But his actions, his offer, meant more than words could say.

  “My lord, I have never heard of a more gracious or noble offer in my entire life,” he said, choked with emotion. “To express my gratitude would seem woefully inadequate, but please know that my respect and gratitude for you is endless. However, I must decline. It is enough to know that you asked me.”

  Will frowned. “Why would you decline?”

  Marcellus smiled faintly. “Because the babe was born a de Wolfe,” he said simply. “He will remain a de Wolfe. You can provide him with more than I ever can and he will bear the honorable name of de Wolfe for the rest of his life. Let me be proud from afar, my lord, for I shall be. My son will have a better life in your hands than in mine. Both of them will.”

  Will nodded faintly, understanding a father’s desire to have the very best for his children and Will took that responsibility very seriously.

  “If that is your wish,” he said. “It seems strange that Atticus and the infant should have two fathers who love them, but I suppose that makes them more fortunate than most.”

  Marcellus blinked back tears. “I do not know what to say except that it is unfortunate that men will never know just how generous you have been all these years,” he said. “Lily knew it. She always had the greatest admiration for you.”

  “And I, her,” Will said. “Speaking of Lily, I believe that Chris will want to take her back to Lioncross for burial and you may go with him, if you wish. I think you’d be happier close to Lily than here in the wilds of the north.”

  Marcellus smiled weakly. “That is very understanding of you,” he said. “If Worchester will have me, I shall return to Lioncross.”

  “I am sure he will.”

  With nothing more to say, Will turned for the door, but Marcellus stopped him. “I hope you will tell Atticus and Alec the truth one day,” he said. “Mayhap you’ll tell them of a man who loved their mother, and them, so much that he only wanted the best for them.”

  Will paused by the door, looking at him. “Someday,” he agreed. “I will tell them of their guardian angel who was one of the most selfless men I have ever known.”

  “The same could be said for you, my lord.”

  With a smile on his lips, Will headed off into the sunlit outer bailey. The keep lay before him and, suddenly, he felt as if he could sleep a little. The conversation with Marcellus had lifted a weight off him that he didn’t even know he had.

  But it was gone now.

  Perhaps everything was going to be all right, after all.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Would you like me to watch out for them, my lady?”

  Sitting in the wooden chair beneath the canopy of trees and watching Atticus swing on his rope swing, Adria turned to see Hermes standing a few feet away. The last she’d heard of Hermes, her father had been proposing marriage to him, so she forced a smile at the young knight who had crept up behind her and she hadn’t even noticed.

  “That is kind,” she said, rising from her chair. “Don’t you have duties to attend to?”

  Hermes nodded, seemingly as uncertain and uncomfortable as she was. “A few,” he said. “But there is a new infant and I know you are needed to attend it. I can watch over Atticus and his gang of ruffians for a while. I may even join them.”

  As if on cue, Atticus bellowed as he swung around on the swing, being chased by his friends. Adria did indeed have things she could attend to, so Hermes’ invitation was attractive.

  “I told Will that I would stay with Atticus today to make sure he was not sad about his mother,” she said. “But I think he might like playing with you even more. You’re much more fun than I am.”

  Hermes grinned, embarrassed. “I would not say that, my lady,” he said. “I am certain that you are just as much fun when you have time for recreation.”

  “I do not swing from ropes and yell.”

  “Then I have the advantage.”

  Adria giggled as she stood up from the chair. She looked into Hermes’ freckled face and found the need to come clean with the man in the hopes they wouldn’t be so awkward with each other in the future.

  “Hermes, I am glad you’re here. I’ve been meaning to speak to you about my father,” she said. “I know he offered you a betrothal and I want to apologize. I know it must have been uncomfortable for you.”

  Hermes flushed a little around the ears. “It wasn’t uncomfortable,” he said. “But your father did seem rather eager about it.”

  Adria grunted unhappily. “Eager because he is foolish and greedy,” she said. “You should know that all he wants is access to your money and your family’s money. That is why he is trying so hard to marry me off. It was not something I agreed to or asked him to broker on my behalf. I am just sorry you were caught up in his attempts.”

  Hermes smiled, but not one of humor. Perhaps one of disappointment. “I did not think you had given him permission,” he said. “That is why I’ve not accepted him. I did not think it was what you wanted.”

  Adria could see his disenchantment. “It wasn’t,” she said. “But we can still be friends, can we not?”

  “Of course, my lady.”

  Her smile turned genuine. “Good,” she said. “Thank you for understanding. And thank you for offering to tend to Atticus. Should you need to return to your duties, just send for me.”

  With nothing more to say, Hermes simply grinned, nodded, and moved towards the group of frolicking boys. With Atticus attended to, Ad
ria headed back towards the castle, perhaps more relieved than she cared to admit.

  Relieved that Hermes wasn’t going to push the betrothal offer.

  It was just after the nooning hour and the castle seemed a little more normal than it had that morning, when the fog of grief was as heavy as the morning dew. People seemed a little more lively, going about their business, and she stopped into the kitchen yard to see how the washerwomen were getting along with the infant’s wash. The blankets and swaddling for the baby had been carefully washed with the soapwort and dried in the sun. Gathering the wash, she headed back for the keep.

  The outer bailey was a little more crowded than normal given the de Lohr army had set up an encampment inside the walls. Adria kept an eye out for Will, but she didn’t see him around. She hoped he was somewhere catching up on sleep. When she thought about their heated kiss earlier in the day, a smile came to her lips. It had been such an unexpected thing and, truthfully, the very first kiss she’d ever had from a man. She would be quite open to more such unexpected kisses and she giggled to herself when she thought of actually telling Will that.

  She hoped he wouldn’t think her too bold.

  Crossing through the inner gatehouse, she came face to face with Chris, Becket, and Morgen coming out of the keep. The smile vanished from her face when she saw how upset Chris was, his features ruddy and his eyes watery. But he caught sight of her almost immediately and lifted a hand to her in greeting.

  “Lady Adria,” he said, sounding pleased and relieved. “I was hoping to see you.”

  Adria liked Chris. He was a little loud and could be intimidating, but he’d always been very kind to her. She smiled warmly at him.

  “My lord,” she said, talking a moment to nod to Becket and Morgen. “It is very good to see you all. I hope your journey was pleasant.”

  Chris nodded. “It was uneventful, but then we arrived to… this,” he said, starting to tear up again and trying desperately not to. “My sweet angel is gone.”

  Adria reached out to take the man’s hand, a comforting gesture. “I know,” she said softly. “Lord Irthington told you everything?”