Jemma nodded. “I am comfortable,” she said. “We’re too old tae waste time, I say. Let’s get on with it.”
“My feelings exactly. Why, you could drop dead tomorrow and this will all have been a wasted effort.”
“If anyone is tae drop dead, it will be ye. Ye’re older than I am.”
“Whoever told you that was lying.”
Jemma laughed softly. Paris had lost none of that arrogant nature, though it had been tempered over the years. It was something that had always annoyed her deeply but, at the moment, she found it rather funny.
Endearing, even.
But that warm and sweet moment was abruptly interrupted.
“This is where you went.”
William was suddenly in the doorway leading into the keep. Paris and Jemma looked at him, still holding hands, and as William came towards them, he happened to notice. He pointed.
“None of that,” he hissed. “Do you want to bring Alec and Hector down around your ears? They are not yet asleep, prowling around Castle Questing, and if they come upon you two, it will not end well. Paris, let go of her.”
Paris did, reluctantly. “You certainly know how to kill a mood, William.”
William frowned. “There is no ‘mood’,” he growled. “Get out of my sight, you alley cat. Until we speak with the priests on the morrow, you will observe the proprieties that any suitor would observe. Jemma, I will escort you to your chamber. Come along.”
Jemma sighed sharply, standing up and carefully folding the blanket, which she handed back over to Paris. He smiled at her but William put a hand up in front of his face, blocking him from conveying the sweet gesture to Jemma. As Paris rolled his eyes and turned away, William took Jemma by the elbow and directed her towards the keep entry.
“We will leave at dawn,” he told Paris. “I will see you on the morrow.”
Paris nodded his head, exasperated by William, but it didn’t stop him from waving at Jemma as she headed through the door. She tried to wave back but William grabbed her hand and held it still until he pushed her through the door.
Paris would have been perturbed had it all not been so comical. As it was, he giggled and grinned all the way back to his cell in the knight’s quarters. At his age, he was actually a suitor and actually enjoying it.
He couldn’t recall looking forward to something so eagerly in a very long time.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“You may not go,” William said. “I am the only one going with them into Coldstream. You will remain here until we return.”
It was the following morning and William was facing off against Alec, Nathaniel, Hector, and Adonis. It was a cold morning, with a layer of frost on the ground, and the sun was just starting to peek over the eastern horizon as William stood in the stable with his horse, preparing the animal for the ride to Coldstream. Stable servants had Paris’ horse out, being groomed and prepared, while a small palfrey was being prepared for Jemma.
But those preparations had been interrupted by the sons of Paris and Jemma, all of them dressed in full armor to ride out.
“Uncle William, it is our right to go,” Alec said. “I want to hear what the priest has to say, too.”
William was trying not to become irritated with them. “And you shall,” he said. “From me and from Paris and Jemma. You will hear every word. Do you think we would lie to you about it?”
Alec shook his head. “Of course not,” he said. “But we all have a stake in it.”
He was referring to the men around him and William looked at them, seeing the serious faces. “Do you want to see your parents happy?” he asked.
Four heads bobbed up and down.
“Then trust them,” he said, reaching out to put a hand on Alec’s shoulder. “This is about trust, Alec. Do you trust your mother’s judgment?”
Alec nodded, however reluctantly. “Of course I do.”
William dropped his hand. “Then trust her,” he said. “Trust Paris. He is no fool and I promise you that he would not treat your mother poorly, not ever. This is a matter of trust, good men, so you must trust your parents. Remain here and I will bring them back before nightfall and you can ask them for yourselves what the priest said. With all of this worrying you have been doing, you are making the situation far more stressful than it should be, so stop worrying and trust. That will be better for all of us.”
With that, he led his horse out into the main part of the stable area where the saddles were. As William headed out, it was clear the conversation was over so Alec left the stable, followed by Hector and Adonis and Nathaniel. As they cleared the stable and headed into the frosty bailey, Nathaniel caught up with his brother.
“So that’s it?” he asked. “We are letting them go with only Uncle William as an escort?”
Alec came to a halt, facing his younger brother. “They do not want us to go,” he said. “If we try, it will only irritate them and I suppose Uncle William has a point when he says we must trust them. Truthfully, I am not sure there is much more we can do at this point.”
“We can follow them,” Hector said quietly.
Everyone turned to look at him. “Follow?” Alec said. “You mean stay far enough away that they will not see us?”
“Exactly. We can follow every move they make and stay out of sight. They will not know we are there.”
Nathaniel was nodding eagerly. Alec opened his mouth to reply but the sentries on the wall let up a cry and the great portcullis began to lift. The men would have returned to their conversation had they not recognized the rider as he came through the gatehouse.
“Apollo,” Hector muttered with satisfaction.
Apollo de Norville had arrived at Castle Questing and there wasn’t any doubt as to why he’d come. The man had been sent to Northwood Castle to deliver a missive from Patrick de Wolfe at Berwick, but clearly, he’d been told what had transpired with his father and had come to see for himself. There was no other reason why he should be here. That was Hector’s guess, anyway.
He was fairly certain that he was correct.
Apollo was his younger brother by eighteen months, a man who looked exactly as their father had in his youth – tall, muscular, and blond. He was very handsome as well, all attributes that made him unbearably conceited and impetuous in his youth, but age and a marriage to levelheaded Moira Hage had seen that part of his personality tempered. He was a man of great wisdom and depth.
Apollo saw the group of knights standing in the cold bailey and directed his horse towards them. Drawing near, he reined his horse to a halt and slid from the saddle, removing his helm in the same motion.
“Good men,” he greeted, his nose pinched red from the cold ride. “Why are you all gathered out here so early?”
“For the same reason you have ridden from Northwood to Castle Questing at dawn,” Hector said. “I assume you were told about Father.”
Apollo nodded, his mood sobering in an instant. “Your wife told me what happened,” he said, his gaze moving to the keep. “I came as soon as I could. She told me that you had to pluck him out of the river.”
Hector nodded. “Aye,” he said. “He did it intentionally.”
Apollo tucked his helm under his arm, his gaze still on the keep. “Christ,” he muttered, pain in his expression. “That’s what she said. Then it is true?”
“It is.”
“But he is well? He did not suffer any ill effects?”
“Nothing.”
Apollo puffed out his cheeks in a gesture of relief. “Then God was merciful,” he said. “Father has not been the same since Mother died, but I did not realize it was so bad.”
“Nor did any of us.”
Apollo’s expression shifted from one of relief to one of curiosity. “Now,” he said. “Tell me about Aunt Jemma.”
Hector cleared his throat softly, glancing at Alec and Nathaniel. “He is lonely, Apollo,” he said. “Cassiopeia thought it would be good for him to have a companion in Aunt Jemma since she is a widow
, also. Papa evidently thought it was a good enough idea to come to Castle Questing and seek Aunt Jemma.”
Apollo looked to the group around him and the various expressions of doubt and bewilderment. He lifted his eyebrows.
“And you lot don’t agree with him?” he asked.
Hector looked at Alec, who lifted his big shoulders. “I don’t know anymore,” Alec said “Yesterday, I was firmly against it.”
“Why?”
“Because my father’s memory must be preserved, Apollo.”
Apollo looked at him as if that was a ridiculous statement. “How is my father keeping company with your mother destroying your father’s memory?” he asked. “That has nothing to do with it.”
That wasn’t what Alec had expected to hear from him. In fact, he was rather shocked. He and Apollo had served together for twenty years at Berwick Castle, closely, and he thought he knew the man as well as he knew himself. Therefore, Apollo’s reaction was quite unexpected.
“Then you are not troubled by this?” he asked, shocked.
Apollo shook his head. “I am not and I will tell you why,” he said. “I was told that my father tried to kill himself because he was so lonely. If courting your mother gives my father a new outlook on life, and it brings your mother some comfort and companionship in her last years, then why in the hell would I be against this? And why are you against it? Would you really feel better knowing your mother was spending her nights cold and alone than knowing she might actually know happiness again? Christ, that’s selfish, Alec. I cannot seriously believe that’s what you would want for your mother. And I know your father wouldn’t.”
Alec stared at him. He felt like he’d just been slapped again, only this time, it was verbally. He had no ally in Apollo de Norville. Truth be told, hearing Apollo telling him what both his mother and Paris had tried to tell him was coming to make sense. Did he want his mother being cold and alone for her final years? Of course not. He wanted her happy.
Perhaps it was finally time to let her be.
“Damn,” he finally muttered, looking away and shaking his head. “I just don’t want to see her hurt. If she’s alone, no one can hurt her.”
“My father will not hurt her,” Apollo said. “You have known him your entire life, Alec. Give the man a chance.”
Alec raked his fingers through his hair, feeling defeated.
Had he been so wrong?
Before he could reply, the keep’s entry door opened and three figures emerged. Paris could be seen, tall and strong and dressed heavily against the cold weather, and then the two small figures of Jordan and Jemma. They were all heading to the stable until Paris looked over and caught sight of all three of his sons. Seeing Apollo was a surprise. As the women continued on to the stable, Paris went to the men.
“My son,” he said, reaching out to embrace Apollo. “When did you arrive?”
“Just now,” Apollo said, smiling at his father and still embracing him. “Where are you off to so early?”
Paris’ smile faded somewhat as he glanced to Hector and Alec. “They did not tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
Paris cleared his throat softly, clearly concerned with what Apollo was going to say to all of this. “Well,” he started slowly, releasing his son. “I came to Castle Questing to…”
“I know why you came to Castle Questing,” Apollo interrupted him. “That is what we were just discussing. I think it is a wonderful thing if you and Aunt Jemma decide to keep company with one another.”
Paris’ eyes widened. “You do?”
Apollo nodded, putting his arm around his father’s shoulders protectively as he faced the other four. “I think it is an excellent idea,” he said, casting an irritated expression to the rest of the group. “These dolts will, too, when I am finished with them. But where are you going so early?”
Paris could hardly believe he actually had an ally in one of his sons. “We are going to St. Helen’s Church,” he said. “Since your brothers… and Jemma’s sons… seem to have concerns, I told them that we would seek the counsel of the priests on how to proceed. If, in fact, the church would approve of such a thing.”
Apollo’s brow furrowed in disbelief. “You are doing it to placate your children?”
“For everyone’s peace of mind.”
Apollo shook his head. “Papa, whatever you do is your decision,” he said. “Do not listen to your selfish children. Be happy. But if you wish to seek the advice of a priest, by all means, go.”
Paris smiled at his son, feeling a good deal of relief that he had at least one son that supported his intentions. Patting Apollo on the cheek, he turned and headed for the stable.
The five knights watched him go, with Alec and Hector feeling rather ashamed that Apollo had been so accepting and they hadn’t. Apollo turned to them.
“Well?” he said. “Fetch your mounts. We shall ride with them.”
Alec shook his head. “We have been informed by Uncle William that we are not allowed. In fact, we were just discussing disobeying that directive.”
Apollo eyed him dubiously. “Who is riding escort, then?”
“Only Uncle William.”
“So it is my father and Uncle William?”
“And my mother.”
Apollo immediately shook his head. “Ridiculous,” he said. “We are riding escort, only we shall do it at a distance. I am not going to let two elderly knights and one elderly woman ride alone to Coldstream, not when the reivers have been active in the area. Those stubborn old men need protection, whether or not they like it. It is for their own good.”
That was exactly what Hector and Alec wanted to hear from him. Finally, Apollo was on their side.
“Are you going to tell Uncle William that when he catches us?” Hector asked.
“They will not catch us, my fine lad,” Apollo said confidently. “We will be ghosts. He will never see us.”
When Paris, Jemma, and William rode from Castle Questing within the hour, it was without the awareness that they’d picked up several well-meaning shadows.
But it wasn’t just the sons.
Jordan, Cassiopeia, Moira, and Edward were on their tail, too.
It seemed the trip to St. Helen’s was to be a family affair, after all.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Is he still back there?” Jemma asked.
Riding next to her on his big, gray warhorse, Paris glanced over his shoulder. “Aye,” he said. “Our guard dog, twenty paces behind. Far enough not to hear our conversation, but close enough to beat me should I pull you off of your horse and into an amorous embrace.”
Jemma looked at him. “Is that what ye intend tae do?”
Paris shrugged. “I haven’t yet decided,” he said. “I have a feeling your sons would have something to say about it.”
Jemma looked around. “Why would ye say that? They are back at Castle Questing.”
Paris snorted. “Nay, they are not,” he said. “They are following us. We simply cannot see them.”
“How on earth do ye know that?”
“Because I know those young men. They do not give up easily, no matter what we tell them.”
“Does William know?”
“I am sure he does.”
Jemma fell silent a moment, thinking on Alec and Nathaniel. Her middle son, Kevin, lived in Dorset with his wife and child and she missed him dreadfully. Kevin was her shining star, a man who had experienced much more worldly adventures than her other children, who had all remained in the north when Kevin went on his world travels. She wasn’t entirely sure what Kevin would have thought of her considering a suit from Paris, but she hoped he would have been supportive.
But given the reactions of Alec and Nathaniel, perhaps not.
Her boys seemed to be quite protective of her.
“Did ye get any sleep last night?” she asked as they rode along.
He shrugged. “A little,” he said. “I kept having dreams of one-eyed knights stealing women
away from me. How did you sleep?”
She grinned. “Well enough,” she said. “But there was much on my mind, I suppose.”
“I can sympathize with that. Anyone in particular? I mean, anything in particular?”
She looked at him, realizing he was flirting with her. “It is possible,” she said. “I guess… I guess something has been weighing heavily on me. I must ask ye a question.”
“What?”
“If ye dunna want tae tell me, I understand, but I feel as if I need tae know.”
“Need to know what?”
“What Jordie told me, about what happened at Northwood. Did ye really try tae kill yerself?”
Paris was looking out over the landscape, warming under the sun now that the night’s frost had burned off. There was a faint mist off to the west, hovering over a meadow, which would dissipate as the temperature rose. It was a beautiful sight.
He’d almost robbed himself of that sight forever and as he pondered Jemma’s question, he felt the need to be truthful. If he truly wanted to court her, honesty between them was an important factor.
“I do not suppose it was a very good attempt,” he said. “Otherwise, I would have succeeded. I usually do when I set my mind to something.”
“Then why did ye do it?”
He shrugged. “Desperation,” he said. “Fear. Pain. It is difficult to even remember why now.”
“The Paris de Norville I met those years ago wouldna have given in tae those feelings,” she said. “I dinna know he was capable of them.”
“Losing a loved one can drive you to such things.”
Jemma looked at him. “But ye’ve suffered loss before,” she said. “Ye lost yer daughters, Athena and Helene, on the same day. Ye dinna walk intae the river then.”
Paris thought back to that horrible day when his older daughters had drowned in a carriage accident along with four of his grandchildren. In truth, he’d never really gotten over that terrible event and he knew Caladora hadn’t, either. Even thinking about it now made him shudder.
The Best Is Yet To Be Page 13
