WolfeBlade: de Wolfe Pack Generations

by Kathryn Le Veque

  She eyed him, perhaps appraisingly. “I can see that you have your own strong opinions about things.”

  “My opinions are always right.”

  She was trying not to smile at that. “Come, now,” she scolded softly. “Are you telling me you have never been wrong about anything in your life?”

  “Not that I can recall.”

  “You’re perfect, then?”

  He paused for effect. “Aye.”

  She started laughing. Andreas grinned as well, his free hand coming up to grasp the fingers at clutching his elbow. He squeezed them and she continued to giggle, only now it was because he was fondling her fingers and she was loving it. It was a delightful, flirty moment.

  They were nearing the end of the bridge as it dumped into Southwark. This was a less populated part of the city, but the entire area was owned by the church. There was Southwark Cathedral, a massive place, and other centers and residences that were linked to the church officials, but the one place they didn’t have any jurisdiction over was an area called the Liberty of Winchester, which was an area that combined a low-rent district with merchants and open areas where minstrels and actors would ply their trades.

  They came off the bridge and headed for this area. They could already hear music from the gangs of minstrels and entertainers. It was crowded with people, with children running about and dogs wandering, and people eating and enjoying the entertainment that was going on.

  It was magical.

  Gavriella kept straining to get a look at what was going on. She’d never seen such things in her life and it was all quite exciting. As they were entering the quarter, they passed by a man with a cart that was full of bronze pieces – little statues, jewelry, and even toys. There were also pieces of brass and as Andreas and Gavriella walked past, the man suddenly jumped out in front of them.

  “Your lady needs something beautiful to wear, my lord,” he said. Immediately, he held up a bracelet with red stones and yellow metal. “Look! This matches her dress!”

  He was mostly standing in front of Gavriella and she let go of Andreas and moved to his other side, taking his arm and pulling him away.

  “Come along,” she said firmly.

  Andreas was actually looking at the bracelet. “In a moment,” he said, plucking the bracelet out of the man’s grip. He held it up into the light. “What is this?”

  “Carnelian, my lord,” the man said eagerly, hoping to make a sale. “I’ve set it in brass. It shows off the stone, don’t you think?”

  Gavriella frowned as Andreas looked at the other things on his cart. “Are you a metal worker?”

  The man nodded. He was short, round, with dirty dark hair and several teeth missing. “I used to work for Rothschild the Goldsmith,” he said. “You know the one – there is a large establishment on Thames Street.”

  “But you work there no longer?”

  The man shook his head. “Rothschild’s son took over for his father when the man fell ill,” he said. “He sent many of us along our way. Now I must make my own living with the skills I have been taught.”

  Andreas could see that the man’s work was fine. He evidently couldn’t afford the more expensive metals, but he did a beautiful job with the ones he could afford. But he put the bracelet down.

  “I will not pay for brass or bronze,” he said. “It will turn the skin green.”

  The man held up his hand as if to beg patience as he rushed to the other side of his cart, digging around in the side of it. Quickly, he pulled forth a silk pouch and came back around the cart, unwrapping what was in the pouch. He held it up for Andreas to see.

  “I do have some good pieces, my lord,” he said. “This is gold, very precious, with a red ruby in the middle and two pearls on the end. ’Tis a very fine piece.”

  Andreas took it from the man, inspecting it closely. It was a brooch, about three inches long and about an inch wide. The gold work on it was exquisite filigree, with a round, red ruby in the center of it and two lush pearls on either side. Each corner of it had a rose pattern worked into the metal.

  He’d never seen finer.

  “How much?” he asked.

  The man was working his hands nervously. “Five pounds, my lord.”

  Andreas immediately handed it back. “I can buy a horse for that.”

  He turned for Gavriella, who was standing there with an expression of angst on her face. The man ran after him.

  “Three pounds!” he said. “It was made for your lady, my lord. It will make her beautiful!”

  Andreas came to a halt and turned to him sharply, his eyes narrowing. “She is already beautiful,” he said. “There is nothing you can sell me that will make her any more magnificent than she already is.”

  The man could see that he’d angered the knight, possibly blowing the sale. “I meant… I meant her dress, my lord,” he said, gesturing in Gavriella’s direction. “It would look beautiful upon her dress. It matches.”

  He was right. Andreas considered his offer. “Two pounds.”

  “Three pounds and I include a pearl bracelet to match.”

  That gave Andreas pause. He opened his mouth to reply but Gavriella’s gentle hand grasped him.

  “Please do not buy it for me,” she said softly. “Keep your money, my lord. I do not need such a thing.”

  He looked at her, seeing that angsty expression again, as if fearful he were going to do something she didn’t want him to do. In this case, buy her jewelry. They didn’t even know each other very well and, already, he was considering buying her a very expensive piece of jewelry.

  She was uncomfortable about it.

  He felt a little foolish.

  “Put it away,” he told the man. “Let me think on it. If I want it, I will return before the day is out.”

  The man was disappointed, but not entirely destroyed. With a nod of resignation, he went to put the piece away as Andreas turned to Gavriella, took her hand, and tucked it into his elbow.

  They continued on.

  “What makes you think I was buying those things for you?” he said as they entered an area with merchants. “I could be buying it for my mother, you know.”

  She looked at him, horrified that the thought hadn’t occurred to her. “I… I am so very sorry, my lord,” she said. “I did not…”

  He put up a hand to silence her, his gaze warm. “I am jesting with you,” he said. “Of course it was for you. A token of my appreciation that you took the time to spend the day with me.”

  She was relieved, but she was also touched. “You did not have to do that,” she said. “You do me a greater honor by escorting me here. That is gift enough.”

  His gaze lingered on her. “And I still cannot ask you your family name and where you live?”

  She flushed, looking away from him. “I thought we agreed that a little mystery was enjoyable.”

  He grunted, increasingly unhappy about the little game of mystery she wanted to play. He was a man of action, of instant gratification where possible, so he wondered how long he could play this game with her and not take her in his arms and kiss the truth out of her.

  “As you wish,” he said, frowning. “What do I know about you so far? That your name is Gavriella and you are from a small village in the north, but it is not Cumbria or Yorkshire. Then it must be Northumberland.”

  “I suppose it must,” she said. “You?”

  “That is my home, also.”

  They looked at each other. “Then we are neighbors,” she said, pleasure in her tone. “But Northumberland is a very large place. Do you live near Newcastle?”

  “Nay. Do you?”

  “Nay,” she said. “I have been there, however.”

  He was looking off to his left where there was a stall selling food and he was distracted from that line of questions. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  She looked over to where he was pointing. “I could eat something,” she admitted. “I have brought my own money for such things.”

&n
bsp; He looked at her as if she’d gone mad. “Do you think I expected you to pay your own way?”

  Gavriella shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “I know you would want to pay, much as you wanted to purchase something from that peddler back there. I do not expect you to pay, nor do I want you to. It is probably better if I pay for myself.”

  He frowned. “Why?”

  She came to a halt and looked at him. “Because it would be rude of me to expect you to pay for me,” she said, pulling forth her coin purse. “In fact, you paid for a chamber for me to sleep in last night and I must pay you back.”

  “You’ll do no such thing.”

  She looked up from rummaging around in her coin purse. “Why not?”

  “Because you were my responsibility last night,” he said. “Frankly, I’m offended that you should think to pay me in return for something that was naturally my responsibility. And I invited you to come with me to see entertainment – since you are my guest, I shall pay for the excursion. I did not invite you so that you could pay your own way.”

  Gavriella looked at him, closely. Since they had met in front of The Asher, he’d been an utter gentleman, kind and considerate, and she had been completely giddy to be in his company. Truth be told, she was still giddy and the feeling was only growing worse. As much as she wanted to give in to those feelings and tell him everything about her, there was a nagging little part of her that was beginning to tell her that she had no business with this glorious knight.

  He was too good for her.

  What was she? Damaged goods? She seemed to remember her father calling her that after the attack in Deadwater. Her father had been torn between wanting to protect and support his daughter. He had been devastated that she had been violated and was now no longer a viable marital prospect. He had called her damaged goods more than once, in times when he thought she hadn’t heard him.

  But she had.

  Now, as she looked at Andreas, those words were ringing in her mind…

  Damaged goods.

  Andreas didn’t deserve damaged goods and that was why, she realized with great sadness, that she couldn’t let this go any further.

  That meant she would pay for her meal.

  It also meant that she didn’t want him to know much more about her. It was as she had explained it to him – as long as he didn’t know her full name and she didn’t know his, they could imagine what they wanted to about each other. He could imagine that she was a virtuous young lady and perhaps she could imagine that of herself, as well. When she looked at his eyes, she saw that he was interested in her and as much as it thrilled her, it also broke her heart.

  Perhaps the guessing game they had been playing wasn’t such a good idea, after all.

  “I realize you did not invite me to accompany you with the expectation that I should pay my own way,” she said after a long moment. “But we hardly know one another and I feel that I would be taking advantage of you by allowing you to pay for everything. If I was simply another man you had invited along, would you be so quick to pay for him? Or would you let him pay for himself?”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “You are not a man,” he said. “You are a beautiful young woman who, I have come to see, is quite guarded at times and then quite sweet and charming at others. I wish I knew what I did to make you trust me in some instances but not in others.”

  Gavriella could see that he was genuinely becoming upset about her position. That wasn’t what she wanted, but she was torn.

  “Please,” she said softly, putting her hand on his arm. “I am not trying to upset you, I promise. I just do not want you to think me demanding or spoiled should I let you pay for me. I would be a rude woman, indeed, if I did not at least thank you for your efforts and try not to cost you more than necessary. It is really as simple as that.”

  He calmed, a little. He put his big mitt over hers as it rested on his arm. “If I did not want to do this, I wouldn’t,” he said simply. “It has been a very long time since I have been in the company of such a charming lady and allowing me to pay for your meal and entertainment is truly a pleasure. Please do not take that away from me.”

  When he said it so nicely, of course, she couldn’t. After a moment, she sighed, resigned. “As you wish,” she said. “What are we to eat?”

  He flashed a smile at her as he lifted her hand, kissed it, and put it back on his elbow. “I am not sure,” he said. “But it had better be beef.”

  So much for thinking she wasn’t good enough for him, that she couldn’t let this situation go any further. The kiss to her hand erased any sense of determination she’d had about that. She was putty in his hands. He was so sweet and, God only knew, she needed that sweetness. She needed for someone to be kind to her.

  It had been such a long time since anyone had been.

  Andreas ended up leading her over to the stall where a man and woman were serving up big bowls made of bread, hollowed out and filled with boiled beef and peas and carrots in gravy. Andreas paid for three of them – two for him, one for her, and they went over to the shade of a yew tree to eat it with crude wooden spoons that had been provided.

  Gavriella realized she was famished as she plowed into the food, listening to Andreas speak on the meal he’d had in the city of Bath when he had visited there not long ago. There was a great Roman influence in Bath, still with the great hot springs that the ancient Romans had built their big temples around. He’d had eggs drizzled with honey and chicken with a sauce made of fermented fish, honey, and vinegar. It sounded awful but he assured her that it was quite tasty.

  When they’d finished with their meal, including eating the bread bowl, he bought them sweets that were flat rounds of dough that had been fried in fat and basted with honey. They were delicious and as they ate them, they walked along the avenue to their very first entertainment.

  It was taking place on the bed of a large wagon, a movable stage that had a painted wooden backdrop. There were two men on the wagon bed, but six or seven in a group standing next to it. The group of men were singing the plot of the play as the men on the wagon bed acted it out, and Andreas took Gavriella’s hand again as they watched the biblical story of Cain and Abel play out before them.

  The actors portrayed the brothers and when Abel hit Cain over the head, he really brained the man, who fell over the side of the wagon and bloodied his nose. Infuriated, he jumped up on the wagon bed, punched Abel in the face, and a full-scale brawl erupted. That was not part of the play. Gavriella started laughing as Andreas shook his head at the antics and led her away to the next, and hopefully less violent, entertainment.

  The next wagon had a good-sized crowd around it. It was a play about Demeter, the Greek goddess of agriculture, among other things, but in this play she was killing everything that moved. There were three men in this play, each one assuming several characters, and they watched Demeter kill crops, kill a goat and eat it, pull flowers out of the imaginary earth and then throw them to the audience. Andreas, being quite tall, caught one of the flowers, a white rose, and handed it to Gavriella. She held her rose quite happily, watching a play that was very depressing.

  But they watched the entire thing and it had been long. Demeter ended up getting swallowed up by the underworld. When the crowd broke up, looking for the next spot of entertainment, Andreas and Gavriella wandered down the avenue to a stage that had been built from the ground up. There was no wagon here and groups of children surrounded this stage as two actors, made up as a dog and a cat, chased each other around, foiled by a third actor dressed as a rat.

  The cat, the dog, and the rat ran around the stage, biting each other much to the delight of the children. Gavriella thought this play was much more fun than the other two and she laughed right along with the children. The rat was conniving, the dog stupid, and the cat frantic. It was hilarious to watch. At one point, the rat offered the dog a bowl of what was presumably dog food, but the cat smacked the bottom of the bowl and the contents went flying into the audienc
e.

  The children screamed with delight as pieces of hard honey candy rained down on them. Gavriella managed to catch two pieces and she gave one to Andreas. Together, they ate the honey candy that tasted like cinnamon. It was quite delicious. But once the honey candy sprayed out over the audience, the play was apparently finished and they clapped enthusiastically.

  They moved on.

  There was so much to see that time passed swiftly. The day became midafternoon, and soon it was nearing dusk. Andreas and Gavriella had seen several plays, the last one being two men beating each other with padded clubs and anyone else in the audience who strayed too close. It was quite humorous, or so Gavriella thought, but Andreas wasn’t entirely sure it was proper entertainment for a lady. He walked back to the street, trying to coerce her to come with him, but she was enjoying watching the men beat up on each other.

  He finally gave up trying.

  Andreas stood out on the street, watching her as she laughed uproariously at the men on the stage, beating and poking each other and telling terrible jokes. He thought they were terrible, but Gavriella did not. She was enjoying it immensely and he was enjoying her. She laughed so freely that he was coming to think she didn’t do it often enough. It was as if it had all been pent up inside of her and she was letting loose for the first time in a long while. Given what he’d seen last night, he believed that.

  Sometimes you meet people who hide a great deal, she’d said.

  He had a feeling she was hiding more than her share.

  She’d kept an air of mystery about her, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to be with her, to hear her laugh, or to see her eyes when they twinkled at him. Something about the way she looked at him made him feel like the most handsome, vibrant man in the entire world. He’d had plenty of women look at him, but not like that. Never like that.

  No one had ever looked at him like Gavriella did.

  He rather liked it.

  “I thought that was you, de Wolfe.”

  Andreas heard the voice and turned very calmly to see three dirty, rough-looking knights standing there. They were clad in well-used protection, with big swords. He knew who they were on sight and, immediately, he went into battle mode.