When the wagon was empty, Graham helped spread the manure while they waited for the next one.
“We’ve never seen a lord with dirty hands, much less with manure,” Louis said.
“I muck out my horse’s stall. Manure and I have a close relationship.” That made the men laugh.
“You must like your horse,” one of the men said.
“As a lad I had my responsibilities, as did my brothers. The three of us were a merry band. We were and still are the closest of friends, but we differ in our activities. My older brother Hugh enjoyed going to friendly gatherings. My younger brother Donald enjoyed challenging sports. I enjoyed the barn, the horses in particular. They are sleek beauties with muscles that roll underneath their coat, a flowing mane that whips in the wind and hooves that pound the ground as they canter. Their haunches quiver as they rock forward. And their eyes are big and genuine with intelligence. They understand more than you think.”
The wagon came lumbering toward them. “Time for you to use those mucking skills,” Louis said.
They continued for the next four hours. Isabella secured the vines followed by the men spreading the manure.
Finished at last, Louis, Isabella, and Graham leaned against the wagon.
“You have my thanks, Graham. This went much quicker with your help,” Louis said.
Watching him work alongside the others she witnessed how the men, even Louis, deferred to him. He never took over, but assisted Louis. It was not what he said, but what he did and how he responded.
She had the sense that he treated them like he did his brothers with an equal amount of humor and hard work. He worked without stopping and never complained. He encouraged, worked next to the men, was one of them. And there were moments, fleeting ones when their gazes met. In the midst of working with twenty men around them, for a brief moment it was the two of them.
They said au revoir to Louis and his men and started back toward the chateau. It was late afternoon. The sky was darkening, and gusts of cool air blew through the vineyard.
“Don’t stand too close,” he said. “I’m afraid you’ll swoon.”
She sniffed the air. “Manly, hard work. I can tolerate it.”
His laugh was deep, warm, and rich.
“My thanks, but even I cannot tolerate this stench much longer,” he said. “I’ll get some clothes then bathe in the stream.”
“I didn’t expect you to throw yourself into helping Louis. Did you really muck out the stalls?” she asked.
“Yes. Sometimes Hugh and Donald helped. The hard work seemed easier when we did it together.”
“You’re close to your brothers.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I am. Destiny made us brothers; fate made us friends.”
“Did your brothers help with your horse?”
“Absolutely not. I love the dear animal. Why would I let my brothers torment him?”
She threw her head back and they both roared with laughter.
“Do you have a favorite horse?” Charlotte still chuckled.
“I do. After some time away from home, I returned and fell into the comfort of old routines.”
“Mucking out the stalls,” she said.
“You’re quite right. It was four years ago. I was on my way to muck out the stall when the thunder of hooves distracted me. A lone black stallion galloped in the enclosed field next to the barn. I think I loved him the moment I saw him. He flicked his tail. The wind ruffled his long silky mane. I couldn’t take my eyes from him. I stood at the fence as if I was a young lad who had never seen a stallion and enjoyed as he powered across the field.
“My father went into the enclosure with a halter. Like magic, the horse came to him. Father put the halter on him then walked the horse to me. By this time, my mother and brothers stood next to me. I couldn’t move.
“Well, Graham. Now that you’re back home you can’t keep riding your mother’s mare. Do you want to take your horse for a ride?” he said. I couldn’t climb over the fence fast enough. Father handed me the lead. I gave the horse my palm. He sniffed, snorted, and licked it for good measure. I held his halter and we talked the entire time we walked the field.”
“What did he say to you,” she asked with a light chuckle.
“You laugh. I told him I would take care of him. Then I asked him if he would take me for a ride. He nodded his head and I mounted. We cantered around the field. It was wonderful. I hadn’t felt that good in… In a long time.
“When we turned at the far end of the field, I gave his neck a pat and increased the pace. I shifted my weight to my outside hip and dug my heel into his right side, he picked up the lead in perfect rhythm, tucking his head in and bounding towards the fence. I buried my head into his neck and told him to fly. And he did.”
“What did you name him?” Isabella asked.
He turned and stared at her. “Merlin.”
The deliberate choice of the horse’s name interested her. What had happened to Graham that he needed magic to help him through? This strong man with a deep secret. Is that what made him so understanding? From the look in his eye and the way he spoke about the horse, it was apparent the animal was important to him. Isabella wished a man’s eyes would shine for her the way Graham’s did when he spoke of Merlin. Not any man. It was Graham she wanted.
The impact of the truth knocked the air from her lungs. She struggled to inhale, to exhale, to do anything. But she knew what she wanted. How quickly and decisively she glimpsed at her destiny. Graham’s eyes to shine for her.
He got a change of clothes and a linen from Isabella. It didn’t take long to reach the deep fast-moving stream. Boulders in the water created swirls of current.
His body ached from the strenuous work, but he welcomed every twinge. He walked along the bank lined with trees and tall grass. The scent of moss, lichen, and wildflowers rode on the air. He glanced at the sky. More clouds gathered. He best to hurry. He went a bit farther and found a good size pool.
He stripped off his clothes leaving them on the large boulder at the water’s edge and waded into the stream. As he went farther in, he took handfuls of water and dashed it over his chest. The water was cold, but invigorating. His body accustomed to the cold water, he dove in and swam.
He’d been in Châlons two days. The information he had indicated he should speak to the guild master and arrange for the sale of the winery. That thought didn’t sit well with him. Perhaps he was being rash, too eager to return to England. This decision deserved more thought.
Would staying another week make a difference? Would he find a miracle to restore the grapes? If he stayed longer would it be any easier to leave? No, only more difficult. He had gone far enough down the stream. It was time for him to return.
He swam back toward the pool. Olivier’s thoughts as well as DuClare and Rodigio was that Labatrelle Winery was doing well, better than well. Nolan on the other hand said the winery was on the brink of collapse and that this would be a good time to sell. He even had an interested buyer. What would Nolan gain from the sale? Miles said Nolan had a forty percent interest in the winery. Nolan had nothing to gain if the winery was sold. The new owner might keep him on, but more than likely not as a partner.
He swam stretching and pulling hard against the current. The water was deceptive, the current stronger than he first thought. It was like two different currents. He almost stopped swimming. Two different books. Nolan probably had one for his portion of expenses and income, but why hide the values? Protect Isabella? It would be plain enough if people read Charlotte’s share. Unless. There was a discrepancy.
He needed to return to the winery and look at Nolan’s journals, the one Isabella saw and the one Nolan showed him.
He came up the river and saw the boulder ahead. He waded to the soap wort, pulled some loose and washed himself then his clothes. He got out of the water, dried himself with the linen Isabella gave him and was glad to change into clean clothes. He bundled his wet garments in the l
inen and headed back.
The chateau wasn’t far. He picked up his pace. He wouldn’t be able to resolve the winery issues in a week and he had not even started to look into why the chateau didn’t have enough money. Their expenses weren’t extravagant. It may take him longer to get to the bottom of that problem. He wouldn’t be surprised if he needed to stay an additional week.
Graham entered the kitchen from the courtyard. He had to write to Hugh and tell him what he found and that he would stay on and see it through.
“Why did you let them in?” Isabella asked Jeanne Marie.
“Let who in?” he asked.
“Felix and Hector. They are waiting for you in the salon,” Jeanne Marie said.
He looked at Isabella.
“Grand-mère told me they were here when I returned home.”
“Who are they? What do they want?” He put his bundle on the floor.
“Felix and Hector work at the winery,” Jeanne Marie said. “They wanted to speak to the earl. I told them you would be back soon and could wait in the salon.”
“You didn’t think it odd that they asked for the earl?” Isabella asked.
“I thought perhaps they heard an Englishman was here and didn’t realize it wasn’t the earl. They aren’t strangers,” Jeanne Marie said.
“I didn’t meet a Felix or Hector today,” he said to Isabella.
“They don’t belong here. They’re troublemakers. The other men tolerated them, but none liked either one and were glad when Nolan moved them to working with him in the winery.”
“Do they ever come to the chateau?” he asked.
“Never,” both women answered in unison.
“They acted surprised when I answered the door,” Jeanne Marie said.
“What game are they playing?” he asked.
Isabella started for the salon, but Graham stepped in front of her forcing her to follow.
She tried to disguise her annoyance. It was wasted on Graham. He wasn’t paying attention to her. She fell into step behind him and noticed a different man. His movements were still graceful. But there was something else. Something deadly. Warrior. He went in front of her to protect her. The idea startled her.
At the entrance to the salon she noted his entire body filled the doorway. There was barely enough space for her to see past him.
“Felix is the one going through the journals, Hector the one at the bookcase trying to open a cabinet door without much luck,” she whispered to Graham.
“Isabella, where is—” Felix turned startled.
Hector slammed the small door on the cabinet.
“I’m sure he kept it in here,” Hector said and lifted his head. The man’s jaw dropped.
He had their attention.
“Who the hell are you?” Felix asked.
Isabella began to say something, but Graham reached behind and tugged her skirt.
Graham didn’t answer. Instead, he approached Felix and took the journal away from him, looked at what he had been reading, and placed the book on the desk.
“You’re certainly not here to read the earl’s books although this is quite a collection. You don’t impress me as the type to read.” He’d been reading Maurice’s travel journal, a page about the Holy relics.
He glared at the men in his best highlander fashion, went to the mantel and took down his scabbard. The quiet of the room was disturbed by the hiss of his sword coming out of its sheath. He made it very obvious he was not to be toyed with.
A heavy silence settled over the room, thicker than the uneasy tension of the changing weather. Felix and Hector’s unsettled glances tried to avoid catching his.
“I thought you were a thief.” Felix raised his chin.
Graham smiled. “You came here to see the earl, not because you thought a thief was here. You are the thief, going through the earl’s belongings. That’s an offense even in France.”
“I came to speak to Isabella about the Holy Land relics. The earl told me he wanted to sell them,” Felix said.
The man changed his story more times than he liked. Graham turned and gazed at Isabella. For a heartbeat he feared her involvement but doused that thought. Her mouth hung open. He turned back to the intruders.
“Isabella? Why her? She has no control over anything here.”
He heard Isabella’s swift intake of breath. He put matters so bluntly that he was aware he hurt her pride. But there was no help for it. He had to establish that he was the only person who made decisions for all the earl’s interests.
“Without the earl here, I am the only one who controls the chateau. That includes the Holy Land relics. Are we clear on that?”
Felix gave a quick nod.
“A wise decision. The artifacts are not for sale. I will tell the earl of your interest. Is there anything else you would like to discuss?”
“No.” Felix glanced at Hector.
“Then that will be all,” he said, a friendly tone to his voice. Felix and Hector headed for the door.
“I have one other item.” The men turned and faced Graham.
Graham stood boldly holding the sword with every intention of intimidating the intruders. Neither one of them could miss Graham’s air of authority or his demand for instant obedience.
“I don’t expect to see you here, inside the chateau unless you are invited.” His playful tone gone the two men snuck out like thieves.
Graham replaced his sword in his scabbard, went to the cabinet, and tried to open the door Hector had difficulty with.
Isabella turned to him. “You didn’t have to be so threatening.”
“Indeed I did.” He glanced at Isabella. “You and your grandmother told me these men never come here, yet here they are searching the room. First they say they want to see the earl, then they were concerned about a thief, and finally they came to discuss the Holy Land relics. Why were they really here? I made sure they knew that they will not be tolerated. They’re lucky they left with their lives.”
Isabella felt like a bucket of water had been thrown on her. He was right. They didn’t belong inside the chateau, nor searching through the earl’s things.
“Why wouldn’t you reprimand them?” Graham asked her. “Because you know them? I didn’t get the impression that you trusted either one of them”
“You’re right. Whenever I had issues with either of them, Nolan always came to their defense, explained it away,” Isabella said.
“He taught you to accept their behavior. Nolan is more devious than you think.”
She looked at Graham in a new way. Maybe warrior was too narrow a title for him.
Once again, Graham tried to open the cabinet. It wouldn’t budge. “What’s in here?” he asked Jeanne Marie.
Jean Marie stood frozen at the doorway nervously twisting the hem of her apron.
“Isabella, I’ve upset your grandmother. Perhaps you’ll tell me what’s in here.”
Isabella walked over and hit the furniture in an odd corner. The cabinet door sprung open.
Graham reached in and took out three bundles wrapped in cloth. He brought them to the desk and opened them with care. He found a piece of cloth, a tooth, and leather strapping. There were also several pieces of silver.
“What are these?” he asked the women.
“They are old things Maurice brought back from the Crusades,” Jeanne Marie said.
“Why does this upset you?” he asked Jeanne Marie.
“These were important to Maurice. He cared for them. Crusaders who died carried these items. He didn’t want them in the hands of the non-believers and brought them back to France.”
“I’m not sure we can confirm these items are genuine. Miles mentioned he wanted to return them to the families of the owners. Why would Felix and Hector want them?”
“Those two do not do anything on their own,” Isabella said.
“Not smart enough?” he asked.
“They do whatever Nolan tells them to do,” Jeanne Marie said.
�
��That is good to know. Why would Nolan have his men search the chateau?”
“There are times Nolan acts as if he owns the winery and the chateau.”
He studied Jeanne Marie for a moment. Whether Nolan betrayed Charlotte and Hugh or took his position as the commander seriously amidst an absent lord he had yet to decide. The woman did not like the man. Nevertheless, her insight was worth remembering.
“Miles told me Maurice had a written agreement with LaBarge. Do either of you know where the document would be?”
“He kept most of his important documents here,” Isabella said.
Graham sat down. His elbows on the table, he rested his head in his hands.
“Tired?” Isabella asked.
He started to object, but smiled instead. “A little.”
“Come, Bella, let him rest.” Jeanne Marie shooed her granddaughter out of the room and closed the door quietly behind them.
The manuscripts, codices and scrolls on the shelves were well organized. He found the bookcase across from him was divided into sections that contained Greek and Roman history, science, geography, and literature. The extent of the library surprised him and he wished he had time to explore the works more deeply, but that would have to wait for another time. For now, he moved on to the bookcase behind the desk. Here he found manorial rolls and business tallies. The last document, rights and duties was the most promising. He examined the document carefully.
No agreement.
Discouraged, he picked up Maurice’s travel journal Felix was reading. He spoke French better than he read it, but he pieced together that the page was about a trésor au-delà de toute mesure, a “treasure beyond measure” from the Holy Lands. Where had he heard that term before? The question crossed his mind when the answer came to him, DuClare and Rodigio. They had used the same term.
He looked at the tooth, fabric, and leather. None of these items appeared priceless, not even the coins.
“Graham.” He looked up at Isabella. Some of his tiredness washed away. “Come eat. It’s always better to tackle a problem on a full stomach.”
They ate in the cozy servants’ solar, the three of them sat at the far end of the long table. The fragrant aroma of the chicken and fennel in a garlicky sauce with roasted vegetables, crusty warm bread, and wine made him feel at home.
Graham: Pirates of Britannia Connected World (Sons of Sagamore Book 2) Page 6
