WolfeBlade: de Wolfe Pack Generations

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Now, he knew her name and he knew where she lived, and nothing seemed to have changed with regard to him wanting to speak with her father about courting her. Nothing would make her happier, of course, but she couldn’t let him do it without telling him what had happened last year. Her father seemed so willing to hide what had happened, but she simply wasn’t.

  Not when it came to Andreas.

  The truth was that she never really thought she would get to the point where she would have to tell him. After she’d fled London those months ago, she wasn’t sure she would see him again, so facing this situation was something she had pushed from her mind. Of course, she had always hoped he would find her, and it was a situation she would deal with at the proper time. But the reality was that he was here now and she was going to have to face it head on.

  She thought far too much of Andreas not to be completely honest with him.

  Even if it destroyed her.

  God, this was such a bittersweet moment for her. She was so glad he’d come, yet terrified her joy would be short-lived when he found out the truth of what had happened on that sultry July day last year.

  The nightmare that would be part of her for the rest of her life.

  “My lady?” Jocosa came up behind her, the woman’s face red and sweaty from the bread ovens. “The servants say your father has come to the hall.”

  Shaken from her thoughts of Andreas, Gavriella looked at her in surprise. “He has?” she asked. “He’s not attended a meal in the hall for months.”

  “He’s here now.”

  “Is that woman with him?”

  “She is.”

  Gavriella’s expression darkened. “I suppose it was too much to hope that she would make herself scarce,” she said. “I should join my father. We have guests, after all.”

  Jocosa nodded, taking the apron from Gavriella and shooing her towards the hall.

  But Gavriella was already on the move, swiftly in fact, because her father was unpredictable these days and she wanted to be in the hall if he started to get out of hand. The evenings seemed to be worst for him and, knowing that Andreas and his men were in the hall, she didn’t want her father embarrassing all of Falstone in front of the House of de Wolfe. He might even give Andreas second thoughts about seeking permission to court her purely based on Merek’s erratic behavior.

  Aye, she needed to get into the hall.

  Quickly.

  She wasn’t exactly dressed in something she would have preferred to wear with guests in attendance, but that couldn’t be helped. She was still in the heavy woolen dress she’d been wearing all day. Gavriella crossed the snowy yard and entered the great hall through the servant’s alcove, immediately confronted by a vastly crowded chamber. There was barely room to walk with all of the men seeking shelter from the snow, but she pressed on, finally spying Andreas first as he sat at the table that was close to the southern hearth.

  Her heart began to pound at the sight of him.

  In fact, she had eyes only for him as she approached, trying desperately not to appear as if she were staring at the man, but it was difficult. He was very much worth staring at. As she drew closer, he happened to catch a glimpse of her and she couldn’t help but smile. He smiled in return, though faintly. Not enough to really be noticeable, but it was to her. The warmth in his expression was unmistakable.

  But so was the back of her father’s bald head.

  He was sitting across the table from Andreas and Gavriella only really noticed because the man shifted in his seat and ended up in her line of sight. It was like having cold water thrown on her. The warm feelings she experienced while looking at Andreas had taken a dousing.

  Now, she was looking at her father.

  There was no warmth there.

  “Greetings, Father,” she said. “I did not know that you were coming to the hall tonight. I would have greeted you when you arrived.”

  Merek glanced at her, looking her up and down. “You need not attend,” he said. “Go back to the kitchens where you are useful.”

  It was a nasty insult right away, in front of guests no less, and Gavriella was humiliated. She could feel her cheeks grow hot and it was a struggle not to insult the man in return. As she tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t start a fight, Andreas spoke up.

  “I think not, my lord,” he said. “She brings light and beauty into a hall filled with men. She is needed far more here than in the kitchens. My lady, you are welcome to sit with us. You have been a gracious hostess since our arrival and we appreciate your company.”

  He said it so sweetly. Gavriella looked at him, deeply touched and grateful, as he smiled at her. The bench he sat on was full, and he was at the very end, but he thumped one of the young men with him on the back of the head and instructed him to stand up. The lad did, frowning as he rubbed the spot where Andreas had thumped him, and Andreas scooted down the bench so there was a place for Gavriella to sit down. As she moved to take the spot next to him, Merek spoke.

  “I can see you have met my daughter,” he said. “I am glad she made herself useful to you and your men, but I do not want to see her when I am eating. It is my wish that she return to the kitchen.”

  Gavriella was just about to take a seat but she came to an uncertain pause. Uncertain because she didn’t want to disobey her father in front of their guests. Even if he had shown her great disrespect, she didn’t want to show him the same.

  But even if she was willing to back away, Andreas wasn’t.

  “And it is my wish that she remain,” he said steadily. “As a gracious host, it is expected that you accommodate my wishes, and as a knight who brought a thousand-man army to protect you from rampaging Scots, you owe me that gratitude. I would like for the lady to stay.”

  It was not a request, but a command. He was clearly challenging Merek. Gavriella looked at him in shock, but he was looking at her father. Glaring at him was more like it. Conversation that had been buzzing around the table with the other knights now suddenly came to a halt as there was evidently some kind of disagreement between Merek de Leia and Andreas de Wolfe. As Andreas waited for the next volley, the red-haired woman who had accompanied Merek into the hall, standing behind him, spoke up.

  “This is Lord de Leia’s property, my lord,” she said. “If he does not wish for his daughter to remain, then she will not remain. It would be rude of you to demand otherwise.”

  Andreas’ eyes flicked over to the woman. “I do not normally lower myself to address a servant who has overstepped herself, but I will in this instance,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “Keep your mouth shut unless you are spoken to. This does not concern you.”

  Her head snapped back as if he’d physically struck her and Merek frowned. “By what right do you come to Falstone and make such demands?” he said angrily. “I did not summon your army, de Wolfe. You are here because your father sent you here, not because you were invited. I came to the hall to greet you in a gesture of goodwill, but I’ll not have you insult my companion or countermand my orders. My daughter is better suited to the kitchens and that is where she will go.”

  Something in Andreas’ eyes flickered dangerously. “Why?” he asked simply.

  “Because I wish it.”

  “I will again ask – why?”

  “Because that is where she belongs.”

  As Andreas and the others watched, the redhead poured wine into Merek’s cup from a flask she’d brought herself. Not from the pitchers on the table or from the drink the servants were providing, but from her own personal flask.

  It was most curious.

  But Andreas wasn’t backing down.

  “As I understand it, she is your chatelaine,” he said. “She was most hospitable this afternoon, kind and intelligent. She would be an asset to any house, so I am curious why you will not let her remain and entertain your guests, yet you allow that one to remain.”

  He was pointing a finger at the redhead from the hand that gripped his cup of
hot wine. It was a gesture not meant to be polite. Frustrated, Merek glanced at the knights at this end of the table, Lukas included.

  He focused on him.

  “If my daughter will not leave by her own will, then you will remove her.”

  Lukas, who had remained silent through the odd and strained exchange, looked over at Gavriella. He could see by the look on her face that she knew this situation wasn’t going to end well if she didn’t do as her father told her.

  “It is no trouble,” she said, backing away from the table. “I have plenty to keep me busy in the kitchens, my lord. In fact, there is some fresh bread that was coming out of the ovens when I left. I will bring that to you personally.”

  With that, she scurried away before Andreas could stop her. He watched her rush back through the hall and disappear before turning his attention back to Merek, who was draining his cup.

  Already, he didn’t like the man.

  Truth be told, he didn’t even know him. He’d been sitting across the table from the man for two minutes before Gavriella appeared, so they’d only been introduced when everything happened. Even in that short time, he could see how Merek treated his daughter. The man who sent her to London because he was ashamed to look at her. Maybe he hadn’t really believed Lukas’ assessment until that moment, but he could see very plainly that it was true.

  And that didn’t sit well with Andreas.

  But something else occurred to him. Careful, man, if you want to ask his permission to court her…

  “I was telling Sir Andreas that our lands have been peaceful for quite some time,” Lukas said, breaking the tense silence. “We’ve not seen any signs of the Scots, fortunately, but it sounds as if they are giving the House of de Wolfe a terrible time. Personally, I’m grateful they’ve come.”

  Merek had drained his cup by then and the woman was filling it back up. After a moment, he snorted.

  “They never come here,” he said. “I have lived here my entire life and we’ve had more trouble from local English lords than the Scots. What makes you think they’re going to come this way?”

  He was looking at Andreas, who was trying very hard to be polite at this point.

  “As I told de Dere, they’ve been all over the borders as of late,” he said. “We just spent six days in close combat with the Scots before finally chasing them back over the border. Our spies told us that they were moving in this direction. Of course, they could pass you by, but my father thought it was prudent to send you reinforcements in case they did not. He does not want to see Falstone fall to the marauding Scots and I suspect you do not, either. It is safer for Falstone if we remain for a time.”

  Merek sucked down whatever the redheaded woman had put in his cup, licking his lips with gusto. “De Wolfe,” he muttered, rolling the name over his tongue. “When my grandfather was a lad, there was no House of de Wolfe in the north. They rose to power rather quickly.”

  Andreas wasn’t sure if there was an insult in that. “My grandfather, William de Wolfe, was the younger brother of the Earl of Wolverhampton,” he said. “He had to earn his way and he did. He was much rewarded by Henry III.”

  Merek was looking at his cup. “My grandfather fought for Henry, too,” he said. “Only he did not receive any rewards for it.”

  Maybe he wasn’t as worthy.

  Oh, how Andreas wanted to say that. It was a struggle to bite his tongue. He wanted something from de Leia and they’d already started off on the wrong foot, so he labored to keep the conversation pleasant.

  More pleasant than it had been, anyway.

  “How did the House of de Leia come by the Falstone property?” he asked.

  Merek wouldn’t look up from his cup, finally holding it up to the woman so she could pour more drink into it.

  “It was built by an ancestor who came to these shores shortly after the Duke of Normandy,” he said. “De Leia is a fine Norman family. There as a time when we held a good portion of the north. Before the de Wolfes and the Grays and the Percys. Before de Vesci claimed everything along the east coast and all we had to worry about were the Scots from the north. Never each other.”

  He downed half the cup in his hand. It was clear that he was quickly becoming inebriated and Andreas caught Lukas’ expression, suggesting the worst was yet to come. Andreas could see that the knight was on-edge.

  “My father says you have been a loyal ally,” Andreas said evenly. “I would not be here if he did not think so. He means to help protect you against the enemy.”

  Merek looked at him, then. “He does not even know who our enemy is,” he said, starting to slur his words. “Our enemy is not the Scots. It’s even worse than that. English in wolf’s clothing and I do not mean the de Wolfes. I mean another, more sinister wolf even than that.”

  Given what Andreas already knew, he suspected who the man meant. “I would wager to say there are few worse than the Scots this far north,” he said, but sought to shift the subject. “How far do de Leia lands go, anyway?”

  Merek pointed in a general northly direction. “Over the border,” he said. “We run all the way to Hell’s Guardhouse. That is the enemy I speak of. With a name like that, of course the devil lives there. That whole family is full of devils. Where has de Wolfe been to protect us from those bastards? You speak of protecting an ally, but where were you when they attacked my daughter?”

  Andreas froze. That wasn’t the subject he wanted to be on, not in the least, especially with Gavriella approaching the table with a big basket of fresh bread. He could see her out of the corners of his eyes. She was trying so hard to be a good chatelaine and an obedient daughter, but she had a fool for a father.

  Andreas could see that quite clearly.

  He could see her moving closer and he wanted to change the subject as swiftly as possible.

  “How far are your lands to the south?” he asked, trying desperately to shift the conversation. “My father told me that you hold a good deal of land up here. What do you do with it? Sheep?”

  “Mostly sheep,” Lukas answered. He could see what Andreas was trying to do. “We do have an entire meadow towards the east that contains cattle but, mostly, it’s sheep. We have massive herds that the Scots and others have pilfered from time to time, but that has been rare. It is a blessing that we’ve been left alone as much as we have.”

  Gavriella had reached the table at that point, setting the basket of bread down. In her other hand, she had a bowl of butter, which she sat down next to it. Andreas dared to look up at her, concern in his expression, and the smile on her face turned into a questioning grimace. She had no idea why he looked so concerned.

  But she would soon find out.

  Merek’s hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist.

  “Here is a victim of the enemy de Wolfe did not protect us from,” he said, quite obviously drunk now. “My only child, my daughter. She is a beautiful woman and should marry into a fine family, but not now. She cannot. De Soulis spoiled her by taking what did not belong to him and no one will want her. He violated her in unspeakable ways. You wonder why she is only good for the kitchen? Because she’s dirty. Dirty, I say!”

  Andreas was prepared to punch the man in the mouth simply to shut him up. “She is nothing of the kind,” he snarled. “Shut your lips, you fool. You are embarrassing yourself in front of everyone.”

  Merek blinked as if he hadn’t realized that. He looked at his daughter, who was already in tears with what he had said, struggling to pull away from him, and he yanked on her hard enough to snap her head back. She gasped and would have fallen onto the table had Andreas not grabbed her.

  But Merek was on a streak. Whatever the redhead had given him had loosened his tongue and he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, stop it. It was Andreas who finally broke his grip on Gavriella, pulling her away as Merek stood up, pointing a finger at her.

  “Every time I look at her, I feel sick,” he said. “She has ruined this family. De Soulis touched her and they bore a child together,
so I should simply give her over to him and be done with it. That is what he wants, you know. He wants her and he wants the child, but like a fool, I sent my daughter to London and the child to Edenside simply to get them away from me. I cannot bear to look at either of them. I… I should have killed her when I was told de Soulis’ seed had taken root. At least I would have saved my family’s honor. But she is damaged goods now. Mayhap I should simply kill her now and be done with it!”

  Andreas lashed out a massive fist and caught Merek in the jaw, knocking him unconscious in an instant. As he went flying backwards, onto the floor, Gavriella yanked herself away from Andreas and went on the run, barreling thorough the hall and heading for the exit. Will, Brodie, Gareth, Corey, and Reed were on their feet, preparing to defend Andreas against an undoubtedly furious Lukas and the rest of the de Leia army, but no one seemed to be moving towards them. In fact, Lukas was still in his seat, looking at Merek on the ground quite unemotionally.

  Andreas had remained at the table only because he was certain he was about to be part of an enormous brawl for striking the lord of Falstone, but no one was moving against him. It took him a moment to realize that.

  He caught Lukas’ eye.

  “He threatened to kill her,” he said, sounding as if he were stumbling over his words. “The man is spewing violence and curses… I cannot allow that to go on. I will apologize for striking him if you think I should, but know that I would not mean it. I am not sorry in the least.”

  Lukas sighed heavily. “You have done what I have wanted to do for quite some time,” he said, clearly distressed. “Have no fear. He will remember nothing in the morning.”

  Andreas was still coiled, still braced for a fight. “What did he mean when he said de Soulis wants his daughter and her child?” he asked. “Has he made an offer of marriage for her?”

  Lukas shrugged. “If he did, I was not made aware of it,” he said. “Lord de Leia used to consult with me on everything, but ever since that… that incident he spoke of, he’s not confided anything in me. I do not know what he means, but I intend to find out.”

  Throwing his leg over the bench, he stood up, looking at his unconscious liege. The disgust on his face was evident. As he bent over to gather de Leia under the arms and drag him out, Will suddenly spoke up.