“I shall go with you,” he said. “I must gloat to Atty that I ate the last of his stew.”
Cassiopeia smiled at the man as they both turned and headed towards the keep, side by side.
She couldn’t remember ever wanting to smile so much in her entire life.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The fact that Cassiopeia and Edward entered the great hall together, and were smiling, told William that old animosities between the pair might very well be dashed.
Call it a father’s intuition.
Perhaps he was reading more into the situation than there was, but there was a large part of him that would very much like to see Edward married to Cassiopeia. Edward had seen twenty-seven years now, and she had seen twenty-two, so they were more than prime marriageable age. He thought they made a rather fine pair, too, with Edward’s dark handsome looks and Cassiopeia’s red-blonde glory. His older sons had married the de Norville daughters, and now he had his sights set on Edward doing the same.
Like an old fishwife, William was going to do some matchmaking.
With his family occupied with the meal at hand, including his wife, William went on the hunt for Paris and found the man just outside the hall on the paved courtyard, speaking to Daniel de Motte.
Remember what Edward had told him about Daniel, William made all due haste to Paris’ side and interrupted the pair, telling Paris that he had an important and private matter to discuss with him. As Daniel politely walked away, William pounced.
“What business do you have with de Motte?” he demanded quietly. “Is it about Cassiopeia?”
Paris frowned. “How did you know that?”
“Because I can read minds, and especially minds of lustful young men. What did de Motte want?”
“He wants to court my daughter.”
Those were words William didn’t want to hear. He shook his head firmly. “Not him,” he said. “He is only interested in her beauty, Paris. Besides, the man likes women and they like him. It is entirely possible he will not be satisfied with one woman and you do not want that for Cassie.”
Paris took a step back, his frown deepening as he glared at his oldest and dearest friend. “What is wrong with you?” he asked. “Why should this concern you so?”
William realized he was sounding a little pushy, so he backed down a bit. “Because it is Cassie,” he said as neutrally as he could. “She is special, Paris. She is not meant for just any man.”
Paris was still eyeing him with some concern. “I know that,” he said. “I did not give Daniel permission to marry her, for Christ’s sake. But I am agreeable for him to call upon her if she is agreeable. William, she is twenty years and two. She is almost too old to marry. At this point, I am grateful for any interest.”
William lifted his eyebrows at that very real fact. “And why is it you did not broker a marriage for her before now?” he asked. “She has been in London for ten years with all manner of eligible men around her. She is a beautiful woman, so why no offers?”
Paris’ irritation faded, replaced by something of regret. “There were offers,” he said quietly. “I never told you that, did I? I have had offers from at least six men over the years, wanting to vie for my daughter’s hand, but the timing was… poor.”
“What do you mean?”
Paris’ mood seemed to dampen. “Three of those offers came a year or two after the passing of Athena and Helene,” he said. “I could not bear it, so I refused. The rest came afterwards but, at that time, my wife was missing her so greatly that she could not stand the thought of Cassie marrying and going far away, never to see her mother again.”
William nodded faintly. “I see,” he said quietly. “And now that she is home, you are realizing that you should have taken any one of those offers because she is so old.”
Paris nodded. “The truth is that even though Callie speaks of marriage for Cassie, I am not entirely sure she means it,” he said. “The years without Athena and Helene have taken their toll on my wife. You know this.”
“I know.”
“She wants a sense of normalcy with Cassie back home, but that means any husband we seek for her must be local. Very local.”
“Like Deauxville Mount.”
Paris’ head bobbed up and down in agreement. “Deauxville is less than twenty miles from Northwood Castle. It is ideal, really.”
William fell silent a moment. “What if I told you that Edward may have interest in her?”
Paris looked at him in surprise. “Eddie?” he repeated. “Not your son, Eddie.”
“My son, Eddie.”
Paris frowned in disbelief. “You cannot be serious, William.”
“Of course I am serious.”
“Did he tell you this?”
William couldn’t lie to him, but he wasn’t too keen on telling him the exact truth, either. “He has… spoken of her,” he said, which wasn’t a lie. Edward had spoken of her, though not entirely favorably. “Whatever de Motte has, Edward has far more. He is an advisor to the king, Paris. He is a great man in London. He has rich lands that border Scott’s and he is titled. My son is Lord Kentmere. He has much more to offer a potential wife.”
Paris was looking at his friend most distastefully. “Except that he hates her,” he said. “In fact, out of all of our children, those two were always the ones to go to blows. Cassie cannot stand Eddie and he cannot stand her.”
William put up a hand to ease him. “That was when they were children, Paris. They have both grown up.”
“And their hatred has grown, too, I am sure. Marrying those two would be like throwing two cocks into the ring. They would battle to the death.”
William cast him a wry expression. “Stop being dramatic,” he said. “If you are so concerned, then ask Cassie what she thinks of a suit from Edward. If she tries to punch you in the face, then you know how she feels and I will not pursue it. But if she does not…”
Paris pursed his lips, conveying the ridiculousness of the situation. “I am about to lose an eye to my own daughter.”
“Ask her.”
“If she blinds me, then I will personally blame you.”
“You will personally blame me, regardless.”
Paris sighed heavily, seeing that William was serious about this. He still couldn’t believe it, but he wouldn’t refuse the man. Truth be told, Edward de Wolfe would be a perfect match for Cassiopeia, if she hadn’t disliked the man so much. But William was right – they had both grown up so, hopefully, as adults they had overcome whatever hatred they had for each other. Perhaps seeing each other again, and coming to know one another on an adult level, had changed things between them.
Paris could only hope.
“Very well,” he said, putting up his hands in surrender. “If you want me to ask her, I will. But you will understand that I have given de Motte permission to speak to her with the intention of wooing her.”
“Then it is quite possible that she will have two suitors.”
“Or one suitor and one dead body.”
William had to chuckle at the man’s dark sense of humor. He pointed at Paris.
“Ask her.”
With that, William turned away and headed back into the keep, following the smells of food and realizing that he was quite hungry. Everyone else was eating but him, including Edward as he now sat with his brothers, laughing at James as the man beat on the tabletop with a knife and a spoon, like a drum, and sang of a woman whose body parts smelled like a fish. Not exactly an appetizing song, but the table was laughing uproariously about it.
Fortunately, the song wasn’t loud enough for Jordan to hear as she sat over at another table with her cousins and daughters. That was always a concern where James was concerned, that he would provoke his mother into an act of violence. But she remained oblivious, and William’s gaze lingered on Edward for a moment, remembering what the man had told him earlier –
I have always felt like the lesser child of a great knight.
It genuin
ely broke William’s heart to hear that but, in a sense, he understood. With four great older brothers, Edward had always had to compete with them, yet he wasn’t like them. He wasn’t a great knight, or a great warrior, nor did he lead armies to victory. What he did was far more complex and difficult, William thought, but he could understand why Edward had always felt different.
He wondered if he would ever be able to change Edward’s mind.
With his thoughts lingering on his fifth son, he turned back for the table of women, wanting to sit with his wife for his meal. And if he didn’t think he’d be overheard, he might just tell her about his conversation with Edward and, ultimately, with Paris.
He was curious to know what Jordan thought of the entire situation.
He had a feeling he already knew.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Castle Questing
Two days later
“Are ye mad, English?”
The way Jordan was looking at him, William was coming to think that perhaps he was. Somehow, holes had been cut into his skull and his brains had drained out, leaving a black void.
That’s what his wife was implying.
The gathering at The Lyceum had broken up and everyone had gone home, including the de Wolfe party, and William had waited two days to tell his wife of his conversation with Paris about a potential betrothal between Edward and Cassiopeia. Now, he was facing his wife who evidently thought her husband had been robbed of his pia mater.
“By the way you are asking that question, mayhap you think that I am,” he said. “But I assure you, I am quite sane.”
Jordan wasn’t so sure. Standing in her husband’s lush solar in the keep of Castle Questing, the truth was that she really wasn’t sure how she felt about any of it. In fact, she had to turn away from him and find someplace to sit down because the very thought of Edward and Cassiopeia – as a couple – had her shocked into unsteady confusion.
The floor of the solar was stone, a rare stone floor, because this part of the keep didn’t have anything beneath it, like a vault. It was on solid ground. The stone was swept daily of the dust and dirt carried in by countless knights and soldiers, activity that kept the solar of one of the greatest knights in the north a busy place.
It was stone that sounded hollow beneath Jordan’s slippered feet as she made her way to a cushioned chair that had been purchased in York. It had a soft, brocade seat and back on it, tied to the frame with small strips of leather, and it was quite comfortable. Planting her slender body on the chair, she simply sat there for a moment before looking up at her husband in disbelief.
“But… Eddie and Cassie?” she said. “Sweet Jesú, even as I say it, I can hardly believe my ears. Ye really spoke tae Paris about a betrothal?”
“I did.”
“And what did he say?”
“Much of what you have said, to be truthful.”
“Have ye spoken tae Eddie about it?”
“Nay,” William said, shaking his head. “That is why you are here. I have sent for him, but I wanted you here when I speak to him. I am going to tell him what I have done and I want you to support my decision.”
Jordan’s eyes opened wide. “Support it?” she gasped. “English, ye want tae bind Eddie tae a lass who has tormented him his entire life?”
William held up a calming hand. “That was when they were both quite young,” he said patiently. “They are adults now, Jordan. Surely they have overcome whatever childhood troubles they have suffered between them. It would be a fine match between them; don’t you see that? And Eddie would be married to Paris and Caladora’s last remaining daughter. It is meant to be.”
Calming now that the initial shock of her husband’s news had washed over her, Jordan was genuinely trying to see the situation logically. Her two eldest sons had married de Norville brides and they’d been quite happy until the tragedy that took the lives of so many. But Edward marrying the youngest, and remaining, de Norville daughter had her uncertain and puzzled.
“They only just saw each other for the first time in many years at Alys and Gerard’s weddin’,” she said. “I will admit that Cassie has grown a great deal. She is a smart, resourceful young lady. It was her idea tae use the crossbows during the battle. But I didna see her with Eddie any time during the evenin’.”
“I did,” William said. “I saw them speak briefly that night and then the next morning, she brought him food. They were actually smiling at one another that morning, Jordan. To me, that does not speak of hostilities.”
Jordan still wasn’t convinced. “Ye’re seeing what ye want tae see, English,” she said. “Eddie… he’s not like the others. He is married tae his duties for the king. I am not sure a wife fits intae his plans.”
“I intend to ask him.”
“Ask me what?”
Both Jordan and William turned to see Edward entering the solar. Now that he was back home, part of his duties, at least for his duration at Castle Questing, was to handle the patrols that were sent out daily to see to the security of the border. Those patrols also went from castle to castle in the area, gleaning intelligence, which then came back to Edward, who would report it to William.
Although Edward had been far removed from the politics of the north for quite some time, he was educating himself very quickly. Better still, he was taking some of the burden of command off of his elderly father. Edward might not have been an active knight, but he was an excellent commander. He was astute, which meant that the moment he entered the solar, he knew his parents had been speaking of him.
It was just a feeling he had.
“Well?” he said as he came near his mother, who was seated in a cushioned chair. “What do you want to ask me? If you want to know when I will be leaving to return to Seven Gates, all I can tell you is that I plan to go soon. I’ve hardly spent any time at my property and I probably should, but that does not mean I will not be available to you. Seven Gates has five hundred men. Did I tell you that, Father?”
William shook his head. “I do not believe so,” he said. “It has been a while since you have led an army, Eddie.”
Edward’s first reaction was to become defensive with him, just as he had with Daniel, but he held his temper. “I was an excellent knight, once,” he said. “I completed all of the training. I have seen battle, even if it is not nearly as much as you or my brothers.”
William held up a hand. “That was not an insult, Eddie,” he said. “Merely an observation. In fact, since you have returned from London, I have not asked you what your future plans are. I assumed you would tell me when you were ready. I am simply glad to have you home.”
Edward eased up a little, a weak smile creasing his face. “And I am glad to be home,” he said. “I told you when I returned home those months ago that I simply told Edward that I needed to return to the north for a time. I had not seen you or Mother in some time and, for the moment, things are quiet with the king. I took it as an opportunity to come home for a long visit because I felt compelled to. Something was calling me home.”
“Then you do not intend to remain permanently.”
Edward shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “I have a life in London that I am quite fond of, Father. I will return to it eventually. But something compelled me to come home and I do not know what it was. I just felt as if I had to.”
William was disappointed to hear that, but he’d always suspected that was the case. Edward was never content to remain at a lonely outpost on the borders between Scotland and England. He had to be in the middle of the action, in London where the excitement was happening. Much like his namesake, that was the life that attracted Edward.
“And I am glad you did,” William said after a moment. “I can only hope that it will not be so long between visits in the future. Your mother and I are not getting any younger.”
Edward nodded. “I realize that,” he said. “That is why I came home. And I promise it will not be years and years before you see me again. Now that I have property i
n the north, I intend to come as much as I can. In fact, I wanted to speak with you about stationing some de Wolfe troops at Seven Gates. I would also like to have a de Wolfe knight there to ensure my interests are being guarded.”
William considered that. “Who is at Seven Gates now?”
“Crown troops, plus a few left over from the last Lord Kentmere, including the majordomo.”
“What happened to the last Lord Kentmere?”
Edward scratched his head. “He was killed two years ago, in Wales, but his family has held the lands for nearly one hundred years. I get the impression they do not like having a new liege.”
William grunted. “Then when you return to Seven Gates, it will be with two hundred de Wolfe men.”
“And a knight?”
William cocked his head thoughtfully. “I have several younger knights that I have taken on recently,” he said. “Some came from Edward. Did he tell you that?”
Edward shook his head. “He has not.”
“He rotates some of the knights from his service up here to the north to gain experience on the borders,” he said. “They come straight out of Winchester or Kenilworth, the great training grounds. There is a fine young knight named Hayes de Reyne I can send with you. He is at Northwood right now, but he belongs to me.”
Edward cocked a dubious brow. “Do you think he is up to the challenge? He will be in command when I am away, and that will be frequently.”
William nodded. “He is very competent,” he said. “I will make the arrangements. He can command the de Wolfe troops you take to Seven Gates and remain as your commander.”
“Thank you, Father.”
William looked at him, a faint glimmer in his eye. “Father,” he repeated the word, rolling it over on his tongue. “You have always called me Father so formally while the rest of your siblings call me Papa. It seems that calling me ‘Father’ was always reserved only for you.”
Edward grinned, somewhat embarrassed. “It only seems right to call you that,” he said. “I do not know why. I suppose… I suppose it is as if ‘Papa’ is not respectful enough, and you are the man I respect more than anyone else.”
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