WolfeBlade: de Wolfe Pack Generations

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “That redhead,” he said. “The one feeding him all of the drink. Where in the hell did she go?”

  They all started to look around, realizing that de Leia’s companion had simply vanished. For a woman who had been hovering over him all evening, her sudden absence was odd. And concerning. Andreas had a very uneasy feeling.

  He had to find Gavriella.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Now, he knew.

  That wasn’t exactly the way Gavriella had planned to tell Andreas, but her father had gone on a rampage and spoiled everything. Something he’d kept secret since it happened, he had willingly and recklessly poured out to a table of mostly strangers, Andreas included.

  Now, they all knew.

  Gavriella found herself praying for a hole in the ground to open up and swallow her.

  If her luck held steady, however, no hole would be forthcoming. She would be forced to face her torment, her shame. She’d coming running out into the kitchen yard, blindly, tramping through the snow until she came to the shelter that provided cover for the additional bread ovens, which were warm from having been used this night.

  Standing next to the bread overs, she stood in the shadows and wept.

  Everything was ruined.

  All of the hopes and dreams she’d had for a future with Andreas had just been summarily dashed by her drunkard buffoon of a father. Everyone knew what had happened now. It wasn’t as if Merek could take the words back and force them to forget.

  She desperately wished such a thing was possible.

  But it wasn’t.

  Around her, the snow was falling gently now, having let up since the burst earlier in the evening. There was about a foot of snow on the ground, but the bailey of Falstone, and the yards, were lit by heavily fatted torches and lanterns, the warm glow of light pushing through the darkness.

  But it was darkness that would never leave Gavriella.

  She could feel it right down to her bones.

  Hopelessness.

  The tears wouldn’t stop falling. She’d never be able to face any of those men now and, most importantly, she’d never be able to face Andreas. How could she when he knew her deepest, darkest secrets? That kind, chivalrous knight who had helped her find her way from Gomorrah, the same kind and chivalrous knight who had spent the day with her watching entertainment in the most glorious day of her life.

  The same man who had found her, against all odds, here at her home in Northumberland.

  All of it… gone.

  She’d told him once that she was meant for the veil in an attempt to tell him that she was unmarriageable property. Damaged goods. Now she was thinking that the church might be the only alternative for her. She refused to remain with her father any longer and she certainly couldn’t find a decent husband. She would go to Edenside where her son was and ask if she could remain, taking care of the children in exchange for a roof over her head.

  In exchange for being with her son.

  Perhaps it was the best option she had.

  More tears fell.

  “Gavriella?”

  Andreas’ voice filled the air, soft yet strong, like velvet against steel. He’d startled her so that she gasped aloud, turning to see that he’d essentially boxed her in against the oven she was standing next to. When their eyes met, he smiled gently.

  “I did not mean to startle you,” he said.

  Gavriella opened her mouth to deny it, but she couldn’t quite manage it. She’d already lied to the man enough, or at the very least, withheld truths. There was no reason to protect herself any longer. She had no idea why he’d come to speak to her; perhaps to kindly tell her that he was no longer interested or to show her some kind of pity.

  The mere thought made the bile rise in her throat.

  “It is of little matter,” she said, brushing away tears that were falling faster than she could wipe them. “Now you know everything, Andreas. You know everything I did not tell you. I told you in London that people hide things, and now you know why – there was much for me to hide.”

  He had a pained expression. “Gavriella, I…”

  She held up a hand. “Please,” she said, her voice trembling. “Let me speak of this while I still have courage. Last year, on a lovely day in July, I was in the village of Deadwater. I had gone to seek the merchant who imports fine threads from London. As I was walking to the merchant, four armed men came charging down the avenue. They asked one of the merchants if he knew who I was and the man confirmed that I was Merek de Leia’s daughter. The knights proceeded to abduct me and take me to a livery on the edge of town where I was held down by three of them while the fourth man hit me so hard that I was knocked unconscious. When I awoke, he was on top of me, doing things that a man would do to his wife. I tried to fight him, to scream, but it was me against four big men. I never had a chance. When the man was finished, he rode off and left me there. It was Lukas who found me and brought me home. We determined that it was de Soulis because I saw a brand on one of the horses that Lukas and my father recognized. A child resulted from this attack and he was sent away after he was born and I was sent to London. That is when you met me. And now… now, you know. My life laid open. I am damaged goods, as my father said.”

  Andreas was watching her with a heavy heart. She was pale and shaking, refusing to look at him, and he felt as bad as he possibly could.

  “I already knew,” he said quietly.

  Her head jerked up, her eyes wide. “You… you knew?”

  “I did.”

  She was looking at him in confusion and disbelief. “But… how? How did you know?”

  “De Dere,” he said hoarsely. “He did not tell me to gossip, only to explain the relationship between Falstone and her neighbor to the north, Hell’s Guardhouse. One thing led to another and the situation came out. So, I knew before your father shouted it out for the world to hear.”

  She stared at him a moment before breaking down into tears again. “When we met in London, I tried to discourage you,” she wept. “Do you not recall? I told you that I was not meant for marriage. I led you believe that I was meant for the veil because it was better than telling you the truth. The truth that something horrible happened to me that I shall have to live with for the rest of my life.”

  Andreas pondered that a moment. “And you should not have to assume that burden alone,” he said gently. “Gavriella, I am not sure how to say this gracefully so I shall come out with it. Nothing has changed with me. Not my determination to court you nor my desire to marry you. I knew that you were hiding something from the first – it was something we even discussed. But I also knew that you would belong to me, no matter what. Once you were finished being rude to me, there was something about you I could not get away from. I told you before that I see a sunrise in you, a new day, and I do not want to see that sun set. Sometimes, you meet the person who speaks the language of your heart and you just… know.”

  She hadn’t stopped weeping. Her hand was over her mouth as she looked at him and when she spoke, it was through splayed fingers. “You still feel the same way even after… after knowing everything?”

  “After knowing everything.”

  Her hand came away from her mouth. “But after what my father did… everyone will know what happened now,” she said. “This shame we tried to keep secret will be something everyone knows and when they look at me with disgust, they will look upon you with disgust, too. You know that is what is going to happen and it should not. You do not deserve that.”

  He was moving closer to her now. “I am a de Wolfe,” he said, his voice a gentle growl. “I come from the most powerful family in the north, one whose reputation is beyond contestation. I am a knight of the highest order, an elite warrior, and when a de Wolfe chooses a mate, it is for life. There are no regrets. We marry for love and we marry a woman who is worthy of that devotion. I think that you are more than worthy, so if there is any condemnation for something that was beyond your control, I will dare whoever spe
aks of it to cast the first stone. And then I will kill them. Is this in any way unclear?”

  By the time he was done, she wasn’t weeping any longer, but looking at him as if mesmerized. His words were powerful and honest and poignant. It was finally starting to sink in that he hadn’t come to condemn her.

  Quite the contrary.

  “It is clear,” she whispered, hardly daring to hope. “But, Dray… you must know that someday, I intend to reclaim my son. He was an innocent in all of this and I cannot stomach the thought of him being in a foundling home. My father insisted on it, but I did not want to send him there. He is my child, my flesh and blood. I realize it is a lot to ask, but do you think… could you… accept him?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “He is part of you. Of course I could.”

  Her jaw dropped in shock. Although Andreas was already showing an inordinate amount of compassion in her situation, she wasn’t entirely sure that would hold true to the living, breathing result of the horrible attack that had robbed her of everything.

  She could hardly believe it.

  “Oh… Dray,” she breathed, feeling overwhelmed. “Is it true?”

  “All of it.”

  “It seems like a dream.”

  “It is no dream,” he said. “May I prove it?”

  She was nodding, but her eyes were filling with tears again as he took a couple of steps and ended up standing right next to her. Their proximity to one another was intoxicating – painful and frightening and exhilarating.

  “The last time a man was this close to me,” she murmured tightly, “terrible things happened. I am afraid, but I do not want to be afraid of you. When I asked you to prove your words, mayhap I was also asking the same thing of myself. I must prove to myself that a man’s touch – that your touch – is nothing to fear.”

  He could feel her fear, fear she was trying so hard to push aside. It hurt his heart to see her so afraid, but it also filled him with the rage of the devil.

  “You did not shy away from me in the tavern,” he said softly. “I was able to get quite close.”

  She nodded, trembling because he was so close to her. “It is true,” she said. “But that happened so quickly. I did not have time to be afraid.”

  “But now you do.”

  “A little.”

  “Then let me show you how to be fearless,” he muttered. “Try to put aside what you’ve experienced in the past. Let me show you what it is meant to be like. What it will always be like with me. I swear that I will only, and always, be gentle with you. Do you trust me?”

  “I do.”

  Their breaths hung in foggy puffs in the air between them as he gazed into her eyes before reaching out and pulling her against him. She didn’t resist; she was fluid, boneless, a warm mass of fabric and hair, heart and flesh, and his mouth slanted over hers hungrily.

  Prove it, she’d said.

  He did.

  He had to prove it to them both.

  Andreas had never kissed a woman like that in his entire life. A man who kept his emotions at bay, it was as if they were all barreling out now and he couldn’t stop them. He had Gavriella aloft, in his arms, kissing her so deeply that he drove his teeth into her lower lip.

  Tasting the blood, he licked it hungrily.

  It was sheer bliss.

  “Now,” he whispered huskily. “I want you to remember this moment. When I showed you how a kiss can be between a man and a woman. Are you still afraid?”

  Dazed, Gavriella swallowed hard. “Nay.”

  With a smile on his lips, he swooped in for another kiss, this one more deeply than the first one. He rather liked the taste of her, the feel of her in his arms. Certainly he’d kissed women before, but there had been something lacking in each kiss he couldn’t put his finger on.

  There was nothing lacking in this one.

  He was looking forward to many more just like it.

  Over near the kitchen door, servants suddenly appeared, talking about providing stew to men who hadn’t received any yet. They were bickering, back and forth, and Andreas stopped kissing Gavriella and set her to her feet, remaining in the shadows as the servants dished more stew out of the pot in the center of the kitchen yard before disappearing back inside. When they were gone, he turned to her.

  “Let tonight be a foretaste, my lady,” he said, a glimmer in his eyes. “I will speak to your father first thing in the morning, providing he does not remember what happened tonight.”

  Gavriella still had a grip on him, holding tightly to his warm, powerful form. “He usually does not,” she said. “In fact, he usually…”

  She suddenly trailed off and he looked at her, noting that she was looking at something over in the stable yard. Andreas turned to see what had her attention. He could see a small figure moving through the snow towards the stables before disappearing inside.

  “What is it?” he asked her. “Who was that?”

  Gavriella cocked her head curiously. “I’ve seen that cloak,” she said. “I think that is Giddy.”

  “Who is that?”

  “The woman who will not leave my father’s side.”

  The light of recognition went on in Andreas’ mind. “The woman with the red hair.”

  “Aye,” Gavriella said. “It is strange that she would be out here on this night.”

  Andreas cocked a disapproving eyebrow. “It seems to me that everything about her is strange,” he said. “After you fled the hall, she disappeared. Your father was on the ground and she was nowhere to be found.”

  Gavriella looked at him. “Why was he on the ground?”

  Andreas looked at her, trying not to appear contrite. “Because I struck him,” he said. “He was speaking of… madness and would not shut his mouth. I struck him to shut him up.”

  She regarded him for a moment. “He was speaking about me, wasn’t he?”

  “Aye.”

  He averted his gaze and Gavriella smiled faintly. “You have made yourself my champion, have you?” she said. “Even against my father?”

  “Especially against your father.”

  She started to chuckle, touched by his actions and words, but was cut short when a horse and rider suddenly thundered from the stable, heading for the gatehouse. It was dark, and a light snow was falling, but still, the rider was heading out of Falstone on a night when travel would have been inadvisable.

  Andreas released Gavriella and tried to peer through the dimly lit bailey as the rider reached the gatehouse.

  “That’s Giddy?” he asked.

  Gavriella could see the distant figure as the gate sentries opened up a small section of gate, a man gate, to allow the figure to pass through.

  “Aye,” she said. “But where in the world is she going? She has not left Falstone since I returned home those months ago and now, abruptly, she must leave? Most peculiar.”

  Andreas didn’t have an answer for her but he knew, instinctively, that it couldn’t be good. As he watched, the horse and rider slipped through the gate and disappeared out into the night.

  He grasped Gavriella by the hand.

  “Come on,” he said.

  She held on to him with one hand, lifting her skirts away from the snow with the other. “Why?” she asked. “Where are we going?”

  Andreas didn’t look at her. He had much on his mind. “To find answers.”

  Gavriella didn’t say anything. She simply went along with him. Whatever he needed to accomplish was fine with her.

  Her champion.

  Something was rotten at Falstone and Andreas was going to find out what it was.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Hell’s Guardhouse

  “Edenside,” Giddy said breathlessly. “The child is at Edenside!”

  She had just burst into John’s bedchamber and the man had been dead asleep, but Giddy’s shrill voice had him sitting up in his bed before he even realized he’d moved. In fact, he nearly pitched himself over the side of his bed as Giddy ran to him, grasping at him.r />
  “Did you hear me?” she said urgently. “The child is at Edenside!”

  John was struggling out of a deep sleep. He rubbed his eyes furiously. “Edenside?” he repeated. “The child of de Leia’s daughter?”

  “Of course,” Giddy said as if he’d just said something foolish. “Who else? God’s Beard… six long months with that… that animal and he finally revealed the whereabouts tonight. I had to come and tell you as soon as I heard!”

  John was more lucid now as he processed what she was telling him, but her shouting had brought Nicholas. He was suddenly in the doorway of his father’s chamber, dressed in smelly, crumpled clothing and rubbing his eyes.

  “What has happened?” he yawned, then realized he was looking at Giddy. “You? What are you doing here?”

  Giddy sauntered up to him. “I found your bastard, my handsome lad,” she said seductively. “All of those months plying the man with wine mixed with that weed called vervain finally came to fruition. The old fool finally revealed that he’d sent the infant to Edenside.”

  Nicholas peered at her in disbelief. “The truth serum actually worked?”

  Giddy nodded. “It must have,” she said. “Whatever the apothecary in Gretna Green sold you as effective in prying the truth out of a man finally worked, but it took six long months for it to have an effect. The child is at a place called Edenside. Have you heard of it?”

  Nicholas hadn’t. He looked at his father, who was sitting on the bed, scratching his head. “Edenside,” John muttered thoughtfully. He looked at Giddy. “And he said no more?”

  Giddy shook her head. “Why should he say more?” she said. “He has revealed where the child is. Now you must go and get it!”

  Nicholas frowned as he stumbled to his father’s bed, eyeing the man. “What is Edenside?”

  John was thinking seriously on that very thing. “The name sounds familiar,” he said, pausing for a moment before continuing. “I seem to remember attending a gathering at Roxburgh Castle a few years ago and they were speaking of… something. A great scandal had happened involving Kelso Abbey. Something about their foundling home selling children. I swear to you that they mentioned Edenside.”