“You appear whole and uninjured,” Daniel said, looking him up and down. “How did your brothers fare?”
“Perfectly,” Edward said, scratching his cheek as he glanced back at the keep. “They are inside with their wives, unscathed in all things.”
Daniel nodded; his gaze was on the keep as well. “Have you been inside to see to the women yet?”
“Nay. There is no need. My mother and sisters have husbands or brothers already tending to them.”
Daniel looked at him. “Then you do not know.”
“Know what?”
“That the projectiles coming from the keep were shot by the women inside.”
Edward looked at him in surprise. “I thought the soldiers were firing the bolts.”
Daniel shook his head. “Torston told me that your sister, Penelope, Troy’s wife, and Cassiopeia de Norville were doing the shooting. Damned fine shooting. I doubt a man could have done better.”
Edward looked at him in horror. “They were shooting the bolts?”
Daniel nodded, though he didn’t share Edward’s sense of horror. In fact, he laughed at Edward’s reaction.
“Aye, Edward, women were saving our skins,” he said. “Torston told me so. He said they went to the armory on the roof, found the crossbows, and fired from the keep. While I know your sister has been raised among knights, I had no idea that gorgeous de Norville lass had skills like that.”
Edward hissed in exasperation. “They nearly killed Tommy,” he said. “Did you see his face? One those bolts did that to him. Does my father know this?”
“I do not know. If he did not before, he probably does now. He is inside the keep, is he not?”
Edward nodded with annoyance. “And Penny is telling him what great skill she has. I hope my father blisters her arse for what she did.”
“Why are you so angry?”
Edward frowned. “Aren’t you angry? They could have killed us. Women have no place in battle.”
“Spoken by the man who would rather talk his way out of a fight.”
It was clear that Daniel didn’t see eye to eye with him on the matter, so Edward simply let it drop. In fact, Daniel’s words brought back the guilt he had so recently been feeling.
“A lot of good I did,” he muttered. “Kerr attacked anyway.”
Daniel shook his head. “Nothing you could have said would have deterred them,” he said. “Their plan was already set. None of it was your fault.”
“Except that I diverted the attention away from the walls while the Scots mounted them.”
“As I said, their plan was already in motion. It is not your fault.”
Edward wasn’t finding any comfort in that. His gaze moved off to the outer bailey again, now becoming bright as the morning sun cleared the horizon. “Torston is in the outer bailey?”
Daniel glanced at the outer bailey as well. “The last I saw of him,” he said. “He is out there, somewhere. Go and seek him if you must. Meanwhile, I have business to attend to.”
“What business?”
Daniel flashed that white-toothed grin. “I have business with Paris de Norville.”
“What is that?”
Daniel pointed up to the keep. “There is a certain young lady I wish to speak with him about. Mayhap I need a wife who can shoot bolts from windows.”
When Edward realized what he was talking about, he frowned. “A wife?” he repeated. “You mean Cassiopeia?”
Daniel nodded confidently. “A man must marry, after all.”
“Her?”
“She is a wife who could make a man proud.”
Edward was beside himself. He held up his hands as if to physically grasp what he’d just been told. “Daniel, listen to me,” he pleaded. “I could tell you stories about that woman. She is not pleasant by any means. She is frustrating and childish and rude.”
“I have seen no evidence of that.”
“I grew up with her!”
Daniel laughed softly, patting Edward on the shoulder. “She is a woman now, Edward,” he said. “A woman who will know her place with me or suffer the consequences. She would look quite good at my side and make me the envy of all men. In fact, is it possible that you might be a bit envious at the mere thought?”
Edward’s expression screwed up. “God, no,” he said. Then, he jabbed a finger at the keep. “Go, then. Ruin your life. Do not say I did not warn you.”
Daniel winked at him. “I won’t.”
With that, he was off, heading towards the keep, leaving Edward feeling frustrated. In truth, he also felt a bit confused, although he wasn’t sure why.
Perhaps Daniel was right.
Perhaps Cassiopeia really had grown up.
Edward thought back to the last time they’d spoken, when he had come between her and Daniel, and he’d taken her to the dance floor. She hadn’t been happy about his interception, but the moment he’d put his arm around her waist because the dance required it, something had changed.
He’d felt it.
She’d been warm and soft and sweet. God only knew, she’d grown beautiful over the years. He’d noticed that even when he’d seen her in London throughout the time they’d both been there. That skinny, freckled annoyance had, indeed, become a gorgeous creature. Daniel saw it.
Why couldn’t he?
Perhaps he did and that was the problem. He saw the woman’s beauty and he heard her soft, honeyed voice, as she’d been taught to speak articulately. He saw how graceful and elegant she was, completely different from the gangly brat he’d known. And now, he discovered her accomplishments included crossbows but, in truth, that didn’t surprise him in the least. She came from warring stock, with three brothers who were some of the finest knights in England, so clearly, that talent had been bred into her as well.
Was he really angry she’d been shooting bolts from the keep while a skirmish went on down below? Nay, he wasn’t. Now that he’d had time to think about it, he wasn’t angry at all. It was noble that she had wanted to help.
God, this was all so confusing.
A few feet away was a broken barrel, over on its side, and the contents of sand for the smithy spilled out into the inner bailey. Edward wandered over to the barrel and planted himself on it, sitting dejectedly, feeling things and thinking things that greatly puzzled him. He was coming to think that returning home had been a big mistake. Perhaps he needed to return to London, where he belonged.
And that was where William found him.
He’d counted all of his sons except for Edward, and it was a surge of panic that drove him out into the morning sunshine, looking for the one son who had been in the midst of the fighting who hadn’t been wearing any manner of protection. He thought he’d kept a fairly good eye on Edward, and he’d made sure his older sons did, too, but somehow, he’d lost track of Edward as the sun rose.
Now, he was on a hunt.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to go far. He spied Edward perched on an overturned barrel and with a sigh of relief, he headed in the man’s direction. Edward caught sight of him and smiled weakly as his father came near.
“No gashes or holes in you, Father?” he asked.
William shook his head, putting a big hand on Edward’s broad shoulder. “Fortunately, not,” he said. “And you?”
“I am fine.”
“Then come inside. We are eating the remains of last night’s feast.”
Edward shook his head, kicking at the dirt. “I think not.”
“Why?”
“Because this is all my fault. I think I’ll remain out here.”
William frowned. “All your fault? Why would you say that?”
“Because it is true.” Edward snorted wryly. “I was duly punished for lying about Alys’ third leg, but in God’s haste to punish me, he punished everyone else, too.”
William smiled faintly, perhaps understanding that guilt somewhat. He sat down on the other end of the barrel, next to his son. “This was not punishment,” he said quiet
ly. “It was Niven Kerr refusing to accept that Torston did not choose his son to marry Alys. Troy is going to deal with this, considering he is married into that clan. This attack will not go unanswered.”
Edward wasn’t comforted. “And I thought I was so grand,” he muttered. “I have spent the past ten years in London with Edward, learning from his finest advisors, coming into my own as an advisor to the king and a negotiator that he could rely on. I have brokered treaties and bartered laws, bigger than this ridiculous skirmish. Bigger than anything you can imagine. And that arrogance made me believe I could fool an ignorant Scotsman, but he fooled me instead.”
William could hear the defeat in his son’s voice. “You are a great man, Eddie,” he said. “I am very proud of you and all you have accomplished.”
Edward looked at him. “Are you?” he asked seriously. “I do not see how that is possible. I am the most worthless de Wolfe of all. I do not lead great armies and I do not have a great reputation as a warrior. I did not marry an heiress like Scott did, or a Scots warrior woman like Troy did, or the daughter of a Dane king like Atty did.”
William patted him on the knee. “You are not worthless. Eddie. You do not seem to realize how proud we are of you. All of us.”
But Edward shook his head. “Do you know why I went to London, Father?” he asked. “I went because I wanted to do something to set me apart from my great brothers. I went because here, I have always felt like the lesser child of a great knight. Scott and Troy and Atty and James, as much as I love them, overwhelm everything. I could never be as great or noble as they are. I went away so I could make something of myself and upon my first opportunity to show you the man I have become, I failed miserably.”
By this time, William’s smile was gone and he was looking at his son rather seriously. “You are not my lesser son, Eddie,” he said quietly. “I have no ‘lesser’ sons. You are named for my father, the greatest man I have ever known. You are a fitting tribute to your grandfather in every way.”
Edward sighed heavily, looking back down at the ground and kicking at it with his boot. “Although I respect my grandfather’s memory, the truth is that I did not know him,” he said. “He died well before I was born. I would rather be a fitting tribute to you and make a name for myself within the de Wolfe clan. I want to be my own man.”
“And you are,” William insisted. “As for your grandfather’s memory, he was a very great man. He died when I was fairly young, too, so my memories of him are from my childhood. Your grandmother was very young when she gave birth to me and your uncles Robert and Jonathan. In fact, she was barely more than a child herself and my father was old enough to be her father. But it was an arranged marriage, you see, and they made the best of it. My father was humorous and kind and attentive. But he was also a disciplinarian. I remember stealing apples when I was very young and unrepentant as I was, he did not beat me. Instead, he made me eat the apples I’d stolen plus several more until I was utterly sick of them. I never stole any more apples after that. I still can hardly look at them even now.”
Edward smiled weakly, his smile broadening when he glanced at his father to see that the man was grinning at the humor of the memory.
“That was a wise thing to do,” Edward said. “He made you hate them.”
“Indeed, he did. But you also have that same gift of reason and creativity. That was what I heard when you told me of Alys’ third leg. As appalling as it was, that would have been something my father might have done.”
In spite of everything, Edward was starting to feel better. His father had always had the ability to soothe him, to make him see the world through his eyes.
“If that is true, then I suppose I should not feel guilty,” he said. “I used the de Wolfe ingenuity.”
“Indeed, you did.”
Edward’s grin broadened and he reached out, grasping his father’s hand and squeezing it tightly. “Thank you, Father,” he said. “Thank you for listening to me when I was in the throes of self-pity. You should know that I do it quite often.”
William reached out and grabbed his boy by the neck, kissing him on the forehead before releasing him. Wearily, he stood up.
“No need,” he said. “You are my son, the gifted diplomat, and I am very proud of you. Now, will you please come inside and eat something? There is a good deal of food and I am famished.”
Edward wasn’t sure he was ready to go inside yet. “I will come in a moment,” he said. “I simply want to sit by myself for a few moments. It has been years since I have been in a battle, you know. I think I need to sit and collect my thoughts.”
William’s lips twitched with a smile. “You did a fine job, even if you do not go to battle regularly. Even Paris said so; he saw you at one point, but he also said that he saw you beating on Daniel de Motte. What happened?”
Edward thought back to that moment when the battle was first starting. “Ah… that,” he said evasively. “Daniel made me… angry. It was over quickly.”
“Good,” William said. “Daniel is an excellent knight. Keep that in mind the next time you try to beat him down.”
As he turned away to head to the keep, Edward stopped him. “Speaking of Daniel and Uncle Paris, there is something you should know,” he said. “Daniel is going to speak to Uncle Paris about courting Cassiopeia.”
William paused, interested. “Oh? He told you this?”
Edward nodded. “He did,” he said. “Father… I’ve not known Daniel very long, merely since I have been returned home to Castle Questing, but there is something about him that I cannot put my finger on.”
“What do you mean?”
Edward rose wearily from the barrel, stretching out his stiffening muscles. “I am not sure,” he said. “It is my job to read people. It is something I have a talent for, and my take on Daniel is that he likes women, and they like him, and I do not believe that is the type of husband Uncle Paris would want for Cassiopeia.”
“Do you believe Daniel will be untrue to her, then?”
Edward nodded. “It is possible,” he said. “I cannot really say, but I do not think he takes marriage very seriously. It is simply a feeling I have about him. All he sees in Cassiopeia is that she is young and beautiful. He is impressed because she was firing the crossbow over our heads last night. But his interest seems… superficial. There is no substance to it.”
William scratched his head thoughtfully. “I see,” he said. “Daniel comes from excellent stock. His father is Thaddeus de Motte, who was a decorated knight for King Henry. He is Lord Chessington and has property in Berkshire, granted to him by Henry. Daniel will inherit that title from his father.”
“Do you know his father, then?”
“I have fought with him before, but he is no more than an acquaintance.”
Edward thought on that. “Even so, I am not sure what it is about Daniel that makes me hesitant to wholly support his quest of Cassiopeia, but there is something in his eyes that tells me his pursuit may not be altruistic.”
“You think he has an ulterior motive?”
“I do not know. But I would tell Uncle Paris to proceed with caution where he is concerned.”
William respected his son’s opinion. “I will be sure to tell him. It is not as if Cassiopeia has any other offers for her hand and I know that Paris is most anxious to find her a husband.”
“He should not panic and take the first one who comes along, especially if it is Daniel.”
William eyed him. “I wonder who else might be interested in her. Do you know of anyone?”
“Me? Nay.”
William turned away, casually mulling over the situation. “She would make a fine wife for the right man.”
“So it seems.”
“She is lovely and accomplished.”
“I have heard that.”
“If you have heard that, and it seems as if she would make a fine wife, then why not make her your wife?”
Edward looked at his father, his eyes wide with a
stonishment. He realized that his father had been leading up to that suggestion all along. “Me?” he gasped. “The woman hates me! She throws rocks at me!”
“That was over ten years ago, Edward.”
Edward grunted, his displeasure quite obvious, but as he opened his mouth to protest further, he couldn’t seem to do it. At least, not do it effectively.
“Father, how can you say that?” he said. “You know we have never gotten along.”
William’s expression was flickering with amusement. “And what about last night? Did she throw rocks at you?”
“Nay.”
“Did you speak with her?”
“A little, but…”
“I saw you dance with her.”
“That does not mean I want to marry her!”
William’s grin broke through and he chuckled, turning for the keep once more. “Think about it,” he said. “I would much rather see you married to Cassie than de Motte, and I am sure Paris would, too, but he is desperate because she is past prime marriageable age. I fear he will take the first offer that comes along, so do not delay in your consideration, Eddie. I would hate to see you miss out on a fine wife.”
With that, he continued on towards the keep, leaving Edward standing there, torn between the outrage of his father’s suggestion and the inherent interest. Cassiopeia de Norville his wife? The mere thought was ludicrous. Preposterous!
… intriguing?
Perhaps he’d better find the woman and talk to her a little more, just to confirm how ridiculous his father’s suggestion was.
With that thought, he watched his father wander into the fragrant, warm keep.
In spite of the fact that she’d been up all night, Cassiopeia wasn’t tired in the least. In fact, she felt rather alert and happy.
The feast that never took place the night before was taking place now as the sun rose, with warmed over dishes from the kitchens that had been meant for the previous night. Beef several different ways, with almonds and cinnamon, or baked with currants, plus different types of fowl, all of it reheated and smelling delicious to the weary, beaten guests.
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