Christian brought up the rear.
It made for a very odd parade across the inner bailey as the sun set. They were nearing the stone building just as Tor emerged from the keep, seeing the four of them at a distance and wondering what was going on.
Curious, he began to follow.
But Isalyn didn’t see him. She was focused on Barbara and Lenore, up ahead, as they entered the apartment block. She came in right after them, directing them up the stairs to her chamber. Slowly, the pair made it up the stairs with Isalyn and Christian behind them. Once they reached the door, however, Barbara came to a halt.
“My lady, if you would only stop shouting and tell me what this is about, mayhap there is a logical explanation,” she said. “Surely this is all a great misunderstanding.”
Isalyn wasn’t having any of it. She folded her muddy arms over her chest. “You told me that you have the only key to this chamber, correct?”
“Correct, my lady.”
“And no one else has had the key.”
“Nay, my lady.”
“Then it stands to reason if this door is locked, you did it.”
“I have no reason to do such a thing, my lady.”
“Pull out your keys and unlock this door.”
Barbara sighed heavily. Reaching out, she simply lifted the latch and the door opened wide.
“You see?” she said. “The door is not locked, my lady.”
Isalyn was not appeased in any way. “Then give me your keys.”
Barbara looked at her curiously. “Why?”
Isalyn held out her hand. “Give me your keys,” she said. “I want you to give me your keys, go inside the chamber, and shut the door. If the door is not locked from the inside, then I will apologize profusely.”
Barbara drew in a long, deep breath. She was about to refuse but she caught sight of someone on the stairs behind Christian. Everyone turned to see Tor standing on the top step behind Christian, silently observing the situation.
But he was looking straight at Barbara.
“Do as you are told,” he said in a low, rumbling voice. “Give her the keys and go inside and shut the door.”
Lenore gasped, looking at her sister fearfully. Barbara hesitated a moment before fumbling on her belt and pulling forth a chain that contained a ring of many keys. She unclipped the chain and handed it over to Isalyn before stepping inside the chamber and shutting the door.
“Open it,” Tor said loudly.
Barbara could only rattle the latch because the door was, indeed, locked from the inside. Tor pushed between Christian and Isalyn, lifting the latch and shoving the door open.
“This is warded lock,” he said. “It can be locked from either side, either to keep someone in the chamber or to keep someone out of it. But in order to be locked from the inside, it must be deliberately set.”
“It must have been an accident,” Barbara pleaded as her composure began to fracture. “The servants and I cleaned the room thoroughly, so somehow, the lock must have been set.”
Tor sighed heavily as he looked at her, but he didn’t reply. He looked to Isalyn, standing there muddy and cold.
“Would you be so kind as to tell me what happened, my lady?” he asked softly.
Isalyn’s point had already been proven as far as she was concerned, so she didn’t need to gloat. But she wanted Tor to know how rotten his chatelaines had been to her.
“Barbara brought me to this chamber and left me with a bed but nothing else,” she said. “No food, no fire. She told me those things would come later, but they never did. When I tried to leave the chamber, I discovered that it had been locked. I also discovered one of the shutters had been locked, the one overlooking the yew tree so I could not climb down it and escape. I was forced to make a rope from bed linens to escape, but I ended up falling into the pigsty. That is why I am covered with mud. Had I not tried to escape, I would still be shut up like a prisoner in this chamber and no one would ever know. I suspect that when it would come time to feast tonight, Barbara would tell you that I had decided not to attend.”
Tor looked straight at Barbara. “Did you do this?” he asked, incredulous. “Did you truly shame me so badly in front of Lady Isalyn?”
Barbara was beginning to tremble. “It was an accident, Tor, I swear to you!”
“Nay, it was not.”
The voice came from the stairs. Isabella was coming up the steps, having heard Tor’s voice and Isalyn’s subsequent explanation of what had happened. She had been downstairs in her chamber when she had heard the commotion and followed the voices. She looked right at Barbara as she spoke.
“It was not an accident,” she said. “Barbara, I know that you and your sister are capable of such things because I have seen it. I know that you are responsible for Heather d’Umfraville losing teeth when she slipped on oil you put on the ground, and I know you tried to kill Lord Lanchester’s daughter by pushing her down the stairs. There have been others, for I saw them myself when we were fostering at Castle Questing. Anyone who looked at Tor in a manner you did not like fell victim to your treachery. Therefore, I knew you were going to try to do something to Lady Isalyn and that is why I escorted her up here to her chamber. What I did not count on is you locking her in. Admit it was no accident, Barbara, please. You and Lenore have been doing this kind of thing for years and we all know it.”
Lenore burst into tears and Barbara just stood there and trembled. “Isabella,” she gasped. “I thought you were my friend. How can you say such things?”
“Because it is true,” Isabella insisted. “You and your sister are terrifying and wicked, and I have no idea why Tor allows you to do such things. You have hurt so many people and, still, he does nothing. Come with me, Isalyn. You are staying in my chamber tonight. At least I am willing to protect you.”
It was a firm rebuke, an insult directly at Tor. Reaching out, she grasped Isalyn by the muddy hand, pulling her back down the stairs. But Isalyn was looking at Tor, who was watching her go with great sorrow.
Great, great sorrow.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“She could have been killed falling out of that window,” Gilbert said. “Although I do not fault you for Steffan’s death, my daughter’s would be quite another matter. The House of de Wolfe seems to want us all dead.”
An hour after Isalyn’s plunge from the apartment window, Gilbert was in the great hall, furious at what had happened. He was speaking to Tor, but there were others there – Fraser, Christian, Ronan, and Blayth, all of them listening to Gilbert rage about what had happened.
Not that anyone blamed him.
Tor least of all.
Because Gilbert was standing, he was standing. He faced the man’s anger head-on because he deserved it. Whatever happened at his castle was his responsibility, and Barbara and Lenore’s wickedness reflected on him directly. But that was something he’d always known about.
It had been hard for him to admit.
But today, he had to face it.
Oh, he knew the family called the pair The Vipers. He’d known that for years, ever since the bloom of womanhood had come upon them. But something else had come upon them, something jealous and possessive and dark. Tor knew it but he’d tried to be sympathetic. He’d tried to be understanding. No one had actually seen them commit the crimes they’d been accused of and that was why he wouldn’t punish them, but the truth was even deeper than that. Jane’s memory was preventing him from lifting a hand to them. He didn’t want to hurt Jane and he knew that if he punished her sisters, it would have hurt her greatly.
But today, they’d made a great misstep.
They’d gone after Isalyn.
Tor realized he wasn’t afraid to punish them any longer. They’d crossed a line and he’d been forced to act, especially when Isabella had testified against them. He believed his cousin implicitly, for she wasn’t the type to lie.
Therefore, Barbara and Lenore were currently in the same chamber they’d locked Isalyn in, o
nly Tor had sealed up the shutters overlooking the pigsty so they could not escape. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with them, but he wasn’t going to allow them to run free any longer. Seeing Isabella protect Isalyn when she felt he wouldn’t had been like a dagger to his gut.
It was at that moment that he began to see things clearly.
He’d been a fool.
That being the case, facing an enraged Gilbert de Featherstone was something he welcomed. He deserved every last lash of the man’s tongue.
“My lord, let me assure you that we do not want the entire House of de Featherstone dead,” he said. “The offenders are being punished. It will not happen again, I assure you.”
But Gilbert was not assuaged. “What are you doing about this?” he asked. “I discover that your chatelaines have tried to harm my daughter, so I want to know what you intend to do about it. And I hear they have a history of this? Why have you allowed this to go on?”
Tor could feel Blayth and Christian’s eyes upon him. They knew the history. They had probably been wondering the same thing for years. Tor wasn’t oblivious to that. It was time to finally acknowledge that which he had long refused to.
Quietly, he cleared his throat.
“About seventeen years ago, my wife died in childbirth while I was away in battle,” he said, his voice low. “I returned to a dead wife, a dead child, and my wife’s two younger sisters, who were only children at the time. They became my responsibility and not a welcome one. I suppose… I suppose much of this is my fault. I looked at them and I saw Jane, which meant I did not want to look at them at all. They had no parents, no sister, only a brother-in-law who paid them little attention. What I am trying to say is that they ran amok and I refused to believe it. I denied it, ignored it, and made excuses for it. But no more. Believe me when I say that I will take their offenses very seriously, my lord. I will not let their actions against your daughter go unpunished. You have my word.”
By the time he was finished, Gilbert didn’t look so angry. Tor wasn’t a man for a lot of words, nor was he a great orator. In the short time Gilbert had known him, he had seen that. Therefore, that rather impassioned speech meant something.
He believed him.
“I am sorry for you,” he said. “I did not know you were married.”
“It was a long time ago, my lord.”
Gilbert could feel himself giving in to Tor’s tragic tale, prepared to forgive him completely, but something stopped him. He’d had a plan when he had come to Blackpool and it was the entire reason he had come – to find a husband for his unruly daughter, and now he saw the perfect opportunity to press that agenda.
Tor was a widower. He was eligible and wealthy, and Gilbert wasn’t a fool. He’d seen how his daughter had looked at the man.
Now was the time to strike.
“Be that as it may, my family has suffered devastation at the hands of the House of de Wolfe,” he said. “I understand that my son wronged Lady Isabella and I make no excuses for him, but his death was by your hand. Would you agree?”
Tor nodded. “In order to defend my younger half-brother, it was.”
Gilbert lifted his shoulders. “It is quite possible that, given the proper persuasion, he could have returned to the lady to fulfill his promise. Would you not agree?”
Tor looked at Blayth, who simply shook his head in annoyance. Gilbert was grasping at straws given how Steffan had behaved and they all knew it.
“I suppose it is possible, in theory,” Blayth said, answering for his nephew. “Given that he ran and then fought the men who had come to force him to honor his promise, I would say the possibility of him admitting wrongdoing is very small, but I will concede the fact that it might have been possible.”
Gilbert’s attention turned to Blayth. “That being the case, my lord, you will understand that this betrothal was taken from my family,” he said. “If anyone should feel wronged, it should be me. My son could have married into the House of de Wolfe, but that chance was taken from me. Your men killed my son before he was given a chance to mend his ways.”
Blayth grunted and looked away, wanting to tell the man how ridiculous he was and struggling to refrain.
“I suppose it could be viewed that way,” Blayth said, irritated. “But the reality is that your son ran. He did not have to run in the first place, so do not make this out like he was a noble lad set upon by the de Wolfe pack. He ran and was punished for it.”
Gilbert was fixed on him, unblinking. “But he was never given the chance to mend his ways.”
“He never gave us the chance to speak with him!”
Gilbert’s gaze moved between Blayth and Tor. “A beneficial betrothal was taken from me,” he said. “My son was taken from me. I only have my daughter left and considering everything that has happened at the hands of the House of de Wolfe, I demand satisfaction. You took one betrothal away from me and I demand another.”
Tor frowned, perplexed. “You want another betrothal?”
Gilbert was focused intently on him. “You are the common element in all of this, Tor de Wolfe,” he said. “My son’s death, and now my daughter being set upon by your wards. You owe me.”
Tor’s eyebrows lifted. “Me? I do?”
“I demand a betrothal between you and my daughter. You have much to make up to my family.”
Tor’s mouth popped open, his initial reaction one of outrage. But just as quickly, he shut his mouth. He wasn’t a man given to whims or fits of aggression, so he took a moment to digest what Gilbert had said as Blayth began to condemn Gilbert’s suggestion for being outrageous and idiotic.
But not Tor.
A marriage to Isalyn.
God help him… as he thought on it, he realized that it wasn’t an unattractive proposal.
“Tor,” Blayth said, interrupting his thoughts. “You had better speak up, lad. Your future is at stake here.”
Tor looked at his uncle a moment before finally looking at Gilbert, who was standing stiffly with his arms folded across his chest. Tor could tell just by looking at him how serious he was. He had stated his position and he was going to dig in against any opposition.
But perhaps there wouldn’t be any.
In fact, Tor was at a sort of crossroads – he had never expected to remarry after Jane’s death, nor had he wanted to. He’d never even considered it and it had never entered his mind where it pertained to Isalyn.
Certainly, he’d responded to her more than any other woman since Jane. In fact, he couldn’t even remember responding this quickly to Jane. His relationship with dear Jane had been something of a slow burn, from the time they met as children until the time they were of marriageable age. He’d had years to warm up to the idea of marrying Jane.
But with Isalyn, it had barely been a few days. He’d just met her and, already, the idea of marriage between them had been brought up, by her father no less. Tor wasn’t one to act impulsively, and he didn’t consider this an impulse, but he had the ability to think about his life in a year, in five years, and even ten years and wonder what it would be without a good woman by his side.
Without Isalyn by his side.
He didn’t like the look of a future without her.
Perhaps he’d only known her a matter of days, but he trusted his gut where she was concerned. He liked the way she’d handled Barbara and Lenore. He liked the way she’d handled herself in the fight in Haltwhistle. He’d seen some life-changing situations with her over the past few days and throughout it all, Isalyn had been composed, thoughtful, and brave.
Very brave.
That was the kind of woman he wanted to be married to.
“My lord,” he finally said, scratching his head thoughtfully. “Your argument about Steffan being given the opportunity to mend his ways is hollow. We all know he never, at any time, would have considered returning to Isabella, so I reject your notion that he could have possibly changed his mind. Had you seen him at The Black Bull in Newcastle, you would have see
n what we all saw – a man running from a commitment. Therefore, what you suggest is not so and I will not be coerced into marriage. However… I do find a betrothal between your daughter and me… intriguing.”
Gilbert, who had been gearing up for a battle, was suddenly slapped in the face with Tor’s interest to his betrothal demand. He had thought for certain that Tor was going to tell him to go jump off a bridge to permanently shut his foolish mouth, but that’s not what Tor said.
The man was actually interested.
… interested?
“She comes with a very large dowry,” Gilbert said eagerly. “She will make you a very rich man. After my death, my merchant business will go to you. It is quite profitable.”
Tor shook his head. “I have wealth,” he said. “Making more of it is of no particular interest to me. But a marriage to her would ensure an alliance with you.”
Gilbert looked somewhat baffled. “But I have no great army.”
Tor nodded. “I know,” he said. “But you have a great manse at Featherstone and I have heard of an even bigger one in Carlisle. If I wanted to keep men at either place…”
“You could. I would pay for their keep.”
“And if I needed more funds to increase my troops…”
Gilbert cut him off. “I would happily provide you with funds for your army.”
Tor passed a glance at Blayth to see how he was reacting to all of this. The de Wolfe uncle seemed to be as intrigued as Tor was with the idea of a wealthy ally, and family member, with funds to funnel into armies and more men. That would be most beneficial to the de Wolfe war machine.
Gilbert de Featherstone was one of the richer merchants in the north, so even if the marriage wasn’t one that provided military support, it would provide excellent financial support. Blayth began to see what his nephew was driving at and it was quite cunning.
He nodded faintly.
That was what Tor wanted to see – approval from someone he trusted. He wanted the man to think he was only in this for the gains and not for the fact that Tor found Isalyn attractive. Nay, more than attractive.
WolfeStrike (de Wolfe Pack Generations Book 2) Page 20
