The de Lohr Dynasty

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  Glennie snatched his elbow and nearly sent him off balance with the force of her grab. Daniel was thinking that it felt very much as if she’d latched on to him forever. He wondered if her fingers were going to burrow into his arm like tree roots so that they would never be separated, and he would be forced to drag the woman around for the rest of his life as she hung off of his elbow like a giant growth. If Lady Glennie had anything to say about it, he was sure he’d never make it out of Netherghyll at all.

  As he’d suspected all along, he knew a hunter when he saw one.

  Daniel waved Gunnar along with them as they headed for the long building with the steeply pitched roof and, in spite of Glennie’s nonstop chatter, Daniel still found himself watching the sway of Liselotte’s hips in front of him. It was seductive, alluring to the point of distraction. But he continued to smile periodically at Glennie as she talked, simply to acknowledge that he was listening to her. She didn’t have his complete attention but it wouldn’t do to insult her since he wanted something from her father this night. Offending Glennie would not aid those plans. Therefore, he tolerated her attempts to flirt with him. He did not, however, flirt back.

  The doors to the hall were open as they approached; great wooden panels with plates of iron bolted to them that had the de Royans coat of arms. It was a three-point shield with an ax emblazoned upon it and very impressive. Following Liselotte and Easton into the rather big room, Daniel was hit in the face with the stale warmth from the blazing hearth. It smelled heavily of rushes and of freshly baked bread, and he looked up as they entered and he could see the enormous crossbeams that stabilized the roof and the slats of thatching across the beams. The big room was well built.

  To his right, a hearth as tall as he was burned furiously, spitting smoke into the room, which gathered up by the thatched ceiling. There were several dogs grouped near the hearth and Gunnar ran straight for them, falling to his knees as many happy dog tongues came out to lick him. As Daniel watched, one very big black dog that weighed more than Gunnar did decided to lie across the boy’s lap and Gunnar crowed with laughter. Daniel couldn’t help but grin at the happy boy, surrounded by equally happy dogs. He was in heaven.

  “Remind me to check the dog pack before we leave to make sure I have not left a boy behind,” he said to Glennie. “I do believe he will be happy there for the evening.”

  Glennie laughed softly at Gunnar, who was now lying on the ground as a dozen dogs licked him and tried to play with him. “They are quite friendly,” she said. “My father and brothers adore dogs, so they are always well-fed and very happy.”

  Brothers, Daniel thought. Like Brighton.

  The return of Brighton threatened to sink his mood again but he fought it, reminding himself that he was here at Netherghyll for a reason. He wanted something. Therefore, he forced himself away from thoughts of Brighton yet again as Glennie pulled him away from the dogs and over to the long scrubbed feasting table where Easton was politely seating Liselotte.

  Daniel immediately noticed that there was already food on the table; several loaves of bread, dried fruits, and two bowls of something that turned out to be pickled onions. Instead of trenchers, there were actual plates of pewter set out as a display of the de Royans’ wealth, meant to impress visitors, and Easton was already helping Liselotte spoon onions onto her plate. Bread, butter, and some kind of stewed fruit were near the bread as well as a silver salt cellar in the shape of an apple.

  It was quite a display of prosperity and Daniel took his seat after courteously helping Glennie into hers. But he came to notice that all of the food was coming at Liselotte first, and rather quickly, and he watched her carefully, wondering how she was going to handle the situation. She’d probably never seen so much food in her entire life.

  Knowing that her family had been facing starvation, Daniel was concerned that Liselotte might be overwhelmed by it all, but so far, she was handling it with grace. Much better than he was handling Glennie, who was now sitting conspicuously close to him. He would scoot over an inch or two, and she would do the same. He was scooting his way right off the bench so, after three or four scoots, he finally came to a halt and began to help himself to the food. There was no use in trying to move away from her, as she wouldn’t be discouraged.

  “You were going to tell us some of the history of Netherghyll, my lord,” Daniel said as he ripped apart a hunk of bread, deliberately not helping Glennie with her meal because he was becoming irritated with her. “I have traveled a good deal in Yorkshire but have never heard of the place. You are somewhat remote.”

  Easton was being quite solicitous to Liselotte, who seemed unsure of the man’s attention. She kept trying to serve herself but he was doing it for her, making for an awkward situation, but Easton seemed undeterred. He continued to help her whether or not she liked it.

  “Somewhat remote, aye,” he said as he waved over a servant who had just entered the hall carrying a heavy iron pot with a boiled beef knuckle in it. “But we sit near the road to Carlisle, the only such road in the west of England, so we are not too terribly remote. The location of Netherghyll was chosen for that very reason – near the road to Carlisle. The Cononley barony stretches from Eastburn all the way north to Skipton. It borders Shadowmoor’s lands to the south.”

  Daniel was listening with some interest, settling down to his food as Glennie served herself. “Yet you are not allies with Shadowmoor?”

  Easton paused in his attempts to assist Liselotte. “I think that Lady Liselotte can confirm that the Lords of Shadowmoor have always kept to themselves,” he said. “When Glennie told me she had met Lady Liselotte in town and had invited her to sup, you can imagine how surprised I was. I should like very much to know my neighbors to the south, but historically, Netherghyll has never much associated with Shadowmoor.”

  Liselotte could see that the man was attempting to be tactful. “My lord, you need not stand on politeness,” she said. “Shadowmoor has, indeed, always kept to themselves, and has for many years. It has always been thus. I was trying to explain the reasons to Sir Daniel today – my ancestors sided with the Normans when they came and, therefore, became outcasts amongst their neighbors. It is still that way. It has never changed.”

  Easton nodded, relieved that the lady understood the situation. “I always thought the Lords of Shadowmoor simply did not wish to associate with the rest of us.”

  Liselotte looked up at him. “That may have been true in the past, but it is no longer the case,” she said. “Although we have nothing to offer by way of strength in an alliance, I am sure my father would like to come to know his neighbors.”

  Easton smiled at her in such a way that provoked Daniel’s displeasure. Much as he didn’t like the way Glennie was looking at him, he clearly didn’t like the way Easton was looking at Liselotte. He was coming to think he’d come into an entire nest of hungry people, men seeking women and women seeking men. He struggled not to let his expression show it.

  “It is unfortunate that you did not know your neighbors before now,” he said, distracting Easton from Liselotte. “I am sure that Lord l’Audacieux could have used your help four years ago when the persecution of Shadowmoor began.”

  Easton’s brow furrowed curiously. “What persecution is that?”

  Daniel nodded to the servant with the pot of beef, and the man began to slap meat onto Daniel’s plate. “The men who tried to assault your daughter in town today are sworn to a lord who has been making life miserable for Lady Liselotte and her family,” he said. “Have you heard of Lord Bramley?”

  Easton was thoughtful, scratching his forehead. “Is he that man who took possession of Bramley Castle a few years ago?” he asked, watching Daniel nod. “I do believe I heard about him when he first took possession of the lands near Bradford. A traveling merchant, who stayed here one night, mentioned that he had sought shelter at Bramley the night before. He mentioned that the man was a nephew to the king, but other than that, I’ve not seen nor heard of Bramley
since that time.”

  Daniel pursed his lips ironically. “That is because he has spent all of his time harassing Shadowmoor,” he said. “They do not have the means to defend themselves against him and he wants their lands, so much so that he has nearly starved them out. And you say you’ve never met the man?”

  Easton was concerned about what he was hearing. “I have not,” he said. “He has stayed away from me.”

  “That is fortunate. How big is your army, my lord?”

  “I carry nearly nine hundred men.”

  Daniel slapped the table as if to emphasize his point. “That is why,” he said, looking at Liselotte. “It is my suspicion that he is going after Shadowmoor because you do not have the standing army that Netherghyll has. But once he has your property, however, he will have a great deal of land that borders Netherghyll. It is quite possible, at that point, he will begin a campaign of harassment against Netherghyll to confiscate her lands as well.”

  Easton’s concern doubled. “Do you think that is true?” he asked, aghast. “Who is this man? If he is the nephew to the king, then he will summon Henry’s troops to aid him, will he not? And what does that say for me? I am loyal to Henry – would he really send troops to purge me from my own home?”

  Daniel held up a hand because he could see that Easton was growing quite upset. “I do not know, my lord,” he said, “but I intend to find out. I met Bramley on my journey north, in fact. He was chasing young Gunnar across the moors.”

  Both Easton and Glennie turned to look at the boy, who was still happily seated on the floor with the dogs surrounding him. “That child?” Easton was appalled. “Why would he chase him?”

  Daniel cocked an eyebrow. “Part of his campaign of harassment,” he said. “He had abducted the boy and was trying to use him to coerce Lady Liselotte’s father into turning over both the lady and Shadowmoor to him. He wants to marry Lady Liselotte and he wants the fortress quite badly, but the boy escaped his custody and, fortunately, I found him before Bramley did.”

  Now Easton and Glennie were looking at Liselotte. “That is terrible,” Glennie gasped. “Is this really true? Lord Bramley wants to marry you?”

  Liselotte was uncomfortable that the conversation had suddenly turned to her but she fought that discomfort. “Aye,” she said. “He saw me in Bradford four years ago with my father and immediately made an offer of marriage. My father refused, of course, and since then, we’ve known nothing but aggression from Bramley. At first, he tried to woo me, and my father, but when we refused, he turned to starving us out, burning out our villiens and making our lives miserable.”

  Daniel could see that Easton and Glennie were appalled by what they were hearing and he thought that it was perhaps the right time to press his agenda. Now that he had their sympathy for Shadowmoor, he intended to take advantage of it. It was the entire reason he had come to Netherghyll.

  “When I found Gunnar and refused to return him to Bramley, the man tried to bully me, but, of course, his tactics did not work,” he said. “He then proceeded to tell me that he was the nephew of Henry but when I interrogated him, I discovered that it is his sister who is actually John’s bastard, meaning that Lord Bramley, who gave his real name as Roland Fitzroy, is not related to the king at all by blood. In any case, Bramley wants Shadowmoor and it is my intention to send a message to my Uncle Christopher, who is a mere few days’ ride away, and ask for reinforcements for Shadowmoor. I will also ask my uncle to send word to Henry about Bramley, or Fitzroy, or whatever he calls himself, and inform him of the man’s actions against Shadowmoor. I was hoping you could supply me with a messenger who can ride swiftly to the Welsh Marches for this purpose. I hope you can see that by doing this, I may be saving Netherghyll from Bramley’s wicked intentions as well.”

  Easton was nodding before Daniel even finished speaking, obviously in full agreement. “Of course I will,” he said. “Write your missive tonight and I will send the man at dawn for the Marches. This is outrageous. I will send men to reinforce Shadowmoor at once until the de Lohr army arrives.”

  Daniel shook his head. “Nay, my lord,” he cautioned. “That would only turn Bramley’s attention on you. Stay out of the fight for now and protect your property, and that means keeping close watch on your daughter. If Bramley discovers she is from Netherghyll, and if it is really his intention to lay siege to Netherghyll after he has conquered Shadowmoor, then you must protect her. He will try to use her as he has tried to use Lady Liselotte and her siblings.”

  The happy, friendly mood of the meal had now become one of great concern and apprehension, but Daniel was pleased by it. It was exactly what he wanted – to have de Royans as concerned about Bramley’s movements as he was. Easton, his brow furrowed, shook his head with disgust.

  “She will not leave Netherghyll again until this situation is resolved,” he said. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Sir Daniel. It would seem that we owe you a great deal of gratitude, for many reasons. That you should be concerned for people you do not know speaks of your character and chivalry, my lord. It will not be forgotten.”

  Daniel looked at the man, the father of an enemy he had helped to kill, and something within him began to waver. He had wondered what kind of people would have raised a son like Brighton, and he had been apprehensive of this meal all along, but now that he had spent some time with Easton, he couldn’t honestly see any aggression or recklessness in the man. Easton conveyed nothing but gratitude and politeness, and had since the beginning of their association. Daniel wondered if it was merely good behavior for a guest, but he didn’t think so. He didn’t get the impression that this was all an act for their benefit.

  Perhaps the de Royans weren’t such a bad family, after all.

  “I am happy to be of service, my lord,” he said. “I would do the same for any respectable lord.”

  “You will stay the night, won’t you?” Glennie asked, interrupting their repartee. “We so rarely have guests and we would love to have your company.”

  Daniel was actually glad for such an invitation because it meant he didn’t have to wander back out in the night and find shelter for him and Liselotte and Gunnar. Now, they could stay under a good roof with good food and a warm fire. He felt comfortable enough with Easton and Glennie to accept the invitation.

  More than that, it would be an opportunity for Liselotte to sleep in a good bed and have all the food she could eat. He was quite certain it had been years since she’d had enough food at her disposal and it was perhaps that reason, more than anything, to accept their hospitality. The poor woman had known enough hardship in her life and his gaze moved to her, lingering on her.

  Liselotte’s head was down as she continued to stuff herself with bread, clearly trying to store up for the days to come when she would be hungry again. It hurt his heart to see that. Daniel wanted her to know prosperity at least once in her life, knowing her next meal would be as plentiful as the last. More than once, if he had anything to say about it. But for tonight, he wanted her to know something wonderful.

  “We are grateful for your hospitality,” he said to Glennie. Then, he turned to Easton. “I will write that missive to my uncle tonight before I retire.”

  Easton nodded. “Excellent,” he said, holding up his pewter chalice so that the nearby servant would fill it with good wine. “Now that the matter is settled, let us speak on something more pleasant for the sake of the women. Surely they do not wish to hear of wicked lords and threats of sieges. Will you tell me where you are from, Sir Daniel? Where does your father now make his home?”

  Now that his purpose at Netherghyll had been satisfied and a messenger would soon be sent south to the Welsh Marches, Daniel relaxed a little. Perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps it really was the company, but he nonetheless felt himself easing. He delved into his succulent beef.

  “My father is the Earl of Canterbury,” he said, taking a bite. “It is a title he inherited from my mother’s father because the man had no male he
irs. It is title I will inherit upon his death.”

  That seemed to impress Easton a great deal. “And your uncle is the Earl of Hereford and Worcester,” he said. “I remember that title from long ago.”

  Daniel nodded as he chewed. “He received that title right before King Richard’s death,” he said. “My uncle has many sons, however, so there is an entire succession of de Lohr offspring in line for that title. My cousins are Curtis, Richard, Myles, Douglas, and Henry.”

  “And you are your father’s only son?”

  “I am the only male, and the youngest, with three older sisters.”

  “Papa, remember that I told you my friend Adalind is Daniel’s niece?” Glennie said to her father. “Lady Adalind de Aston is the daughter of Daniel’s sister.”

  Daniel glanced at the woman as he chewed. “My oldest sister, in fact,” he said. “But her name is no longer Adalind de Aston. It is now Lady du Bois.”

  Glennie was enthusiastic for that married title. “Tell me of her husband,” she said. “You said that she married a knight in your father’s service. Do you know him, then?”

  Daniel nodded as he took another bite of beef. “He is my closest and dearest friend in the world,” he said. “He is a man of great honor and skill and I adore the big clod. Adalind could have done far worse, I assure you. They are quite happy together. Did she never tell you about Maddoc du Bois, Lady Glennie? You and Adalind were such close friends that I am surprised she never told you.”

  Glennie’s eyes widened. “Maddoc?” she repeated in surprise. “She married her Maddoc?”

  Daniel grinned. “So she did tell you of him.”

  Glennie nodded wildly. “She did!” she said. “Her beloved Maddoc! I am sure she mentioned his surname but I did not recall it. I only knew him as Maddoc. He was all she ever spoke of. So she truly married him?”

  “She did.”

  Glennie crowed with delight. “I cannot tell you how thrilled I am to hear this,” she said. Then, she grasped her cup of wine and held it aloft. “I must toast their marriage. A toast to my dear friend Adalind and her handsome Maddoc. I wish them great joy and happiness, always.”