Aurelia was hysterical and, by now, the entire house had been alerted. Camilla had come down the stairs, now standing in the doorway and weeping fearfully at the sight of Gavriella and Aurelia fighting.
Gavriella caught sight of Camilla as the guard dragged her away.
“Tell your mother what you do every night, Camilla!” she screamed. “Tell her that you sneak out to that terrible place where men and women fornicate for all to see! Tell her how you let strangers kiss you!”
Camilla let out a cry, her hands to her mouth as she looked at her mother and sister. “She knows?” she wept in a question mostly directed at her sister. “She told Mother everything?”
Aurelia was being helped into a chair by her mother, her hand on her head where Gavriella had yanked the hair out by the roots.
“Tell Mama it is a lie,” Aurelia insisted frantically. “Tell her that Gavriella is lying!”
Camilla had no idea what was going on. She was sweet, and weak-willed, and not particularly bright. “About what?” she said. “About Gomorrah? How does Mama know about it?”
Aurelia could see that her denials were crumbling. Her sister was too stupid to reinforce her claims. Therefore, she did the only thing she could do – she burst into tears.
“It was Gavriella who took us there!” she wept. “I did not want to go, Mama, I swear it, but Gavriella forced us to go. She threatened us if we did not!”
Gavriella was still in the grip of the guard. “I took you there?” she cried in outrage. “How could I take you to a place I did not know about until last night when you took me there?”
“Enough!” Drucilla shouted. The woman was shaken as she looked at her niece. “Gavriella, I have no choice but to send you back to your father. You are a disruptive influence to this house and you must leave immediately. Barnes, take her back to her chamber and lock her in. Then you will summon the men who brought her here. They are to remove her immediately. I am sending her home this very night.”
The guard nodded and began dragging Gavriella away, who realized she was not to be believed at all. The countess was taking her daughters’ side even though it was clear that what Gavriella had said was true.
But that didn’t matter.
Drucilla didn’t want the aggravation or the burden of her niece from the north.
Gavriella de Leia was going home.
When the guard locked Gavriella in the chamber she shared with Camilla, the impact of her aunt’s decision began to weigh heavily on her. It was not the fact that the woman didn’t believe her; nay, that wasn’t the issue. It wasn’t even the fact that Aurelia had it out for her and probably had since the day she had arrived. Clearly, remaining at The Asher would be a battle, every single day, with no peace from Aurelia. Gavriella didn’t even really care about that.
What she did care about was Andreas.
She was supposed to meet him on the morrow, but she wouldn’t be there. Her aunt wanted her removed that very night from The Asher and Gavriella didn’t even know where the man was staying. He’d said it once, but she couldn’t remember. The more she thought about not showing up to The Fox and The Wolf the next morning, the more distraught she became.
It was all her fault that she didn’t even know Andreas’ last name. She’d kept up that guessing game even though he’d asked, more than once, to end it. But she wouldn’t do it. She’d kept up the façade. Perhaps this sudden change in plans was a sign from God, cleaving her relationship with Andreas before it could go any further.
Perhaps this was the end, as it should have been all along.
There would be no more meeting the man in taverns or on the street because she knew, if things had continued between them, she would have eventually told him who she was and where she was from. Perhaps he would have continued to ask to speak to her father and, knowing that she turned to melted butter in the man’s hands, she would have given him permission.
And Andreas would have found out her deepest, darkest secret.
Damaged goods.
The tears began to come.
Perhaps this was for the best, then. Not showing up to the tavern tomorrow morning was the best thing for both of them. As much as it broke her heart, she had to believe that this was, indeed, for the best.
When her guard came to collect her an hour later, she was packed and ready.
The door closed firmly on the best day she’d ever had in her life.
Or ever would have.
Farewell, my sweet Andreas.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“…and then she came flying through the doorway with an iron rod in her hand,” Andreas was saying. “The next thing I realized, she had smacked de Alisal on the head with it. Even after I told her to stop, she hit him twice more before I was able to disarm her. The woman is a savage and I adore everything about that particular trait.”
Will, Tor, and Theodis were greatly entertained by the tale of Andreas’ visit across the London Bridge. They started laughing at Andreas as he spoke of the “savage” woman he took to see the entertainment across the river, but they’d been laughing steadily since the man returned to Lothbury and tales of his afternoon unfolded.
“And this is the same woman who ran screaming into that alcove at Gomorrah?” Tor asked. “God’s Bones, Dray. How she has changed.”
Andreas was into his third cup of wine since returning home. The sun had set, food was being set out for Edward and his family and their visitors, but all Andreas wanted to do was drink and speak of the woman he’d spent the afternoon with.
It was clear to all that he was quite smitten.
“Changed, indeed,” he said. “She is not the same woman you saw. She’s smart, lively, humorous… a genuine delight. Even so, there’s something about her that is quite mysterious.”
“Like the fact that she will not tell you her name or where she lives?” Will asked, cocking an eyebrow that suggested the woman must have a great deal to hide. “That is not normal, Dray. If you like her and she likes you, then why won’t she tell you where she is from?”
Andreas lifted his shoulders. “It was curious the way she phrased it,” he said. “She said that, much like the rules of Gomorrah, there is an air of mystery about someone when you only know their first name. They could be a prince of Persia or the lowliest peasant, in truth, but as long as you do not know their background, you can imagine they are anyone to suit your particular fantasy.”
As Will shrugged, Tor nodded in agreement. “That makes some sense,” he said. “It does make it a little more exciting, I suppose.”
Andreas took another drink of wine. “That is true,” he said. “But tomorrow she promised to tell me everything I want to know. She has told me that she is meant for the veil, but I am going to speak to her father and ask the man if I can court her. Mayhap I shall bring my father with me. Troy de Wolfe is not a man to be refused, in any case. Besides… a woman like that would be wasted as a nun. God has enough women to serve him. Mayhap he will let me have this one.”
Theodis drained his cup and slammed it to the table, grabbing for the wine pitcher. “Stop telling us all of the unexciting details,” he said, pouring himself more wine. “Tell us the most important things, lad – did you kiss her and was it good?”
Andreas chuckled at his tactless friend. “I did and it was,” he said. “But nothing scandalous or shocking, I assure you. A simple kiss to the hand. And her cheek. I think I kissed her neck, too. Probably her lips.”
Theodis rolled his eyes. “It sounds as if you kept missing the target,” he said. “Dray, you are a fool. Do I need to instruct you on how to kiss a woman?”
“Not now.” Edward joined the table, putting his hand on Theodis’ shoulder and squeezing hard enough to make the man wince. “We are about to be joined by womenfolk, including my wife, and she’ll belt you in the mouth if you say anything offensive in front of her daughters, so please keep the conversation civilized.”
Andreas, Will, and Tor snorted at Theodis, who had to rub his shoulder whe
re Edward squeezed it as the man sat down between him and Andreas.
“Of course, my lord,” Theodis said, eyeing Edward unhappily. “Civilized conversation only, I swear it.”
A smile played on Edward’s lips as he reached for the wine pitcher and poured himself a measure. His wife appeared with their two eldest daughters, Helene and Phoebe, who were now old enough to be allowed to sit at the feasting table with the adults while their younger siblings were fed in their chambers by their nurse.
At twelve and ten years of age, respectively, they were a dark-haired reflection of their father, except for Helene, who had hazel eyes through her mother. Helene sat down next to Andreas, her cousin, and he tended to her quite sweetly, as he always did with his younger female cousins.
All of them loved “Dray” very much.
“Dray?” Edward said softly. “What is it? What are you thinking of?”
Andreas hadn’t realized he was staring at Helene, who had been named for his mother by her only surviving sister, Edward’s wife. He smiled faintly, watching Helene’s delicate profile as she tore up a piece of bread.
“I don’t really know,” he said. “I suppose I was wondering how much Helene looks like my mother. Eddie… I can’t even remember what she looked like. Sometimes I see her in my dreams and she is petite and blonde and I can hear that silly giggle she had. Do you remember that?”
Edward nodded faintly, looking at his nephew who never spoke of his mother. “I do,” he said. “I remember Troy slapping his hand over her mouth to quiet her.”
Andreas’ gaze lingered on Helene for a moment before turning back to his wine. “I wish he hadn’t done that,” he said. “He should have let her laugh. He should have let her laugh all she wanted considering that laughter was silenced all too soon. I wonder… I wonder if you can tell me what she looked like. Do you remember?”
Edward’s gaze turned serious. Sad, even. The conversation had taken a swift and unexpected turn, and he could tell that Andreas had imbibed a good deal of wine because the usually quiet man was not only speaking up, he was being emotional about it. Helene was a very touchy subject in the de Wolfe and de Norville households.
But he answered him.
“I remember,” he said. “She was short and had blonde hair and big blue eyes. You inherited your eyes from her, in fact. You favor your mother a great deal.”
Andreas didn’t say anything for a moment as he tried to picture his mother in his mind. “Did you see her after she died?” he asked. “When she had been brought back to Castle Questing after she drowned, I mean. Did you see her then? And my sisters?”
The conversation had taken an even darker turn. It had gone from light and happy to serious and gloomy very quickly. Edward knew that Andreas was drunk, perhaps not terribly, but drunk enough to ask questions he wouldn’t normally ask.
Edward cleared his throat softly.
“We shall speak of it at another time, Dray,” he said quietly. “I want to hear more about this young lady you spent the afternoon with. Was it pleasant?”
“Did you see my mother, Eddie?” he asked, ignoring Edward’s question. “I have never asked you that. I do not know why. I suppose I did not want to know, but that was years ago. You can tell me now.”
Edward pondered the question. On the other side of the table sat Will and Tor, who had lost their mother in the same accident. They, too, were listening to the answer of a question neither one of them had ever asked, either. They had all been young men, off fostering when the accident happened, and their mothers had been buried by the time they made it home to grieve. Perhaps Andreas’ question mattered, perhaps it didn’t, but they were listening nonetheless. Andreas’ focus on young Helene had him thinking about the mother he had lost.
“Dray,” he said quietly. “There are three other people at this table who consider this a sensitive topic, not the least of which is my wife. We’ll discuss this at another time.”
Andreas understood. He sighed faintly, looking at young Helene, who was buttering her bread and oblivious to the conversation the adults were having. As Andreas simply nodded and took another drink of wine, Edward spoke softly.
“Aye, I saw her,” he muttered for Andreas’ ears only. “I helped bring her into the house when the soldiers brought her back from the accident. I helped lay her on the floor of Poppy’s solar. She looked as if she were sleeping, Dray. You needn’t worry.”
Andreas turned to look at him, appreciating that he murmured words that only he could hear. Or so he thought. “I did not mean to ask uncomfortable questions,” he said. “But it just occurred to me that I have met a woman I am interested in and I have no mother to ask questions of. Women know about women, don’t they?”
“You can ask me.”
Both Andreas and Edward looked across the table to Cassiopeia. She was the baby of the de Norville family – she had two older brothers, then her sisters were born, then another brother, and then her. When her eyes met Andreas, she smiled faintly.
“Please, Dray,” she said. “I would consider it an honor. You can ask me what I think about this lady you spent the afternoon with. I think my sister would like it if you did.”
Cassiopeia was actually two years younger than Andreas. He had spent a lot of time with her in his youth because she had been a late baby for her parents, born well after their older brood were young men and women. She really was the closest thing he would ever have to his own mother so he shrugged, suddenly uncertain of what he would even ask.
He had to think a moment.
“I suppose I would ask why a woman would be so secretive about her life,” he said. “It is clear that she is attracted to me, and I am attracted to her, so why would she not tell me everything I want to know?”
Cassiopeia grinned. “Because you cannot learn everything about a woman in just a few hours,” she said. “Getting to know someone takes time. She cannot tell you everything about herself all at once. Part of the joy of coming to know someone is the time it takes to do it. It is like unwrapping a gift that keeps going and going… and you keep unwrapping and unwrapping, finding new and delightful things.”
Andreas sighed, thinking she made a great deal of sense. “But she is very secretive,” he said. “As if… as if she is hiding something from me, though she assured me that she is not married nor betrothed. In fact, she says that she is meant for the veil.”
“Then that is why she has been secretive, I am sure,” Edward said. “You have asked uncomfortable questions, ones that are not your right to know. She is meant for the church.”
“But I want to speak with her father.”
Edward scratched his head, looking at his wife to see if she had anything to say about this impetuous man who would not be denied his wants. Cassiopeia took the hint.
“Tread carefully, Dray,” she said. “If the woman is guarded and has already told you that she is meant for the veil, then you do not want to push her too much. It might scare her away. You must be gentle when dealing with a woman you do not know – or even one you do.”
That was probably very true, though Andreas didn’t want to admit it. His aunt and uncle were giving him excellent advice. It was up to him to take it.
“She agreed to meet me tomorrow and tell me what I wish to know,” he said. “All I really want to know is her family name and where she lives so that I may speak with her father. Everything else… I can learn in time, I suppose.”
“A wise attitude,” Edward said as the food began to arrive. “And whatever you do, do not listen to de Velt. Women do not like to be spanked, forced, or otherwise, no matter what he says.”
Theodis had his spoon in his hand, licking his lips at the trencher of roast bird set before him. But he heard Edward and frowned. “That is not true,” he said. “I do not spank or force women. Well, not much. Not unless they want me to. Say, when did I become such a dolt when it comes to women in your eyes? I am not, you know.”
Edward started laughing, pouring his nephews
more wine. “Tay, you are a gorgeous creature and you know it,” he said. “But do not advise Dray to push this lady into giving him what he wants. If she has already been hesitant, that kind of advice will only work against him.”
Theodis shrugged and plowed into his food with gusto. In fact, everyone at the table did except for Andreas.
For once, he couldn’t eat. Thoughts of Gavriella had his stomach tied up in knots, but they were knots of excitement.
He couldn’t wait until the morrow.
Andreas sat with his uncle and cousins long into the night, long after the table was cleared and everyone else went to bed. The conversation flowed, as did the wine, and they ended up speaking more about his mother and dead aunt. Edward spoke mostly of what he remembered about them. Even though he wasn’t much older than Andreas or William, he still remembered Athena and Helene, women that he had essentially grown up with.
When Andreas finally did go to bed, it was with thoughts of his mother on his mind.
He very much wished she was there to advise him.
Sleep did not come easily, however, and when it did, it was heavy. The wine had seen to that and Andreas awoke the next morning with a throbbing head, well after dawn. In a panic, and knowing that Gavriella would be waiting for him, he ignored his aching head and dressed quickly. He flew out of his uncle’s home and rushed through the dusty streets of London until he came to the narrow alleyway where The Fox and The Wolf was located.
Only barely composed, he entered the tavern and fully expected to see Gavriella waiting patiently for him. He knew that she would be annoyed that he was late, but he knew that he could soothe her. He was just excited to see her again, that beautiful woman with the stunning blue eyes. He was excited to sit with her and talk to her almost more than he was excited to finally know her name and where she was from.
In his excitement, he ended up going twice around the common room looking for the table where Gavriella would be waiting for him and by the third turn around the room, it began to occur to him that she wasn’t there. The tavern was full of people eating the very fine food that the tavern produced, but not one of those people was Gavriella, so he found his own table to sit and wait.
WolfeBlade: de Wolfe Pack Generations Page 20