Alfred nodded. “I thank you, my lord. I will stay.” He then left.
As soon as he was gone, Kendran muttered, “The bastards. Ainsworths run from nothing and no one.”
“Yes, yes, that is true, brother,” Benedict agreed, sitting back down. “We will not run, and ‘tis surely a coward’s thought that we would ever do so. But we must think about what we should do. We have the other occupants of the keep to consider in open war. Not to mention our own loved ones—Sabina, Genevieve…Lily.”
Tristan raked a hand though his hair. “This would explain why the army has made no real attempt at attack. Those first halfhearted volleys could have well been meant as nothing more than a display to distract us from the fact that they have done nothing.”
Benedict nodded. “I believe you are right there. I think we must take all this information to heart.” He scowled deeply, his black eyebrows meeting over his straight nose. “It is so very like Harcourt to attack from behind.”
“What are we to do then?” asked Marcel, who had kept his own counsel until this moment. His resentful glance was directed to Tristan. “This threat has been brought to all we hold dear without our even knowing it was coming. Like the rest of you, I have no doubt that we are well able to counter it. But at what loss, Tristan?”
Benedict interjected before Tristan could. “Do not quarrel with Tristan now. We are best served by making a united front as we always have, Marcel.”
Obviously these words broke the dam of feeling within Marcel, for he stood, his tone cold. “In the past we have always been united in what we faced. This time the decision to bring this upon us was made without our consent.”
Tristan cried, “Hold now, that is not—”
Benedict stopped him with a raised hand. “I will deal with this, Tristan. That is quite enough, Marcel. Tristan did not bring this upon us, nor did he act alone. I knew what he was about and gave my blessing. That is my right as baron of these lands. If you have any difficulty with my decisions, you must bring that to me.” He paused, then went on deliberately. “I feel you act out of a personal grudge of your own in this, Marcel. At least Tristan has been honest enough to admit where his interest lies.”
A long silence ensued in which Marcel stared at Benedict, his eyes filled with torment. At last he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I am a landless knight.”
Benedict held that gaze with unwavering determination. “You are what you believe yourself to be.”
Marcel gave a cry of anguish and stalked from the room.
Tristan spoke into the resulting silence. “What is going on? Maeve made some very cryptic remarks concerning Marcel as well. Do you both hold some knowledge that I do not?”
Benedict shrugged. “You have been too occupied to see. But now is not the time to discuss. It must be dealt with when this crisis is past.”
Tristan knew that Benedict was right. The immediate danger must come first. But he was determined to have it out with Marcel when all was done. He loved his brother and could not help agreeing with him on one thing. “He is right, you know. I should not have put everyone at Brackenmoore in danger by my own selfishness.”
Benedict shook his head emphatically. “You did what was right. You came to me. You were under no obligation to do more. You are allowed a small measure of privacy in your own life, Tristan, though we all live beneath this roof. A risk was taken, one I was fully aware of and was prepared to take. The consequences are my responsibility, if anyone’s. But I see no purpose in sitting about and belaboring who is to blame. We must plan our defense.”
He saw that Tristan was still looking at the door through which Marcel had gone. “You must give Marcel some time. As I said, he is fighting a demon of his own just now. But he will come around. He is your brother and will see that he must right his own mind before he can make sense of anything.”
Chapter Thirteen
Lily listened to what Tristan told her with a gasp of horror. “How could they say such a thing?”
Tristan had no answer for that. He watched as she went to the window, staring out on the swiftly worsening storm. He had not been alone with her since the night she had recalled her memories. He would not be here now, having asked one of the servants to take Sabina down to the hall, if he did not feel that he must tell Lily about her father and Maxim Harcourt. Even in these circumstances it was difficult not to notice the way the light disappeared into her hair as if absorbed by her, the way her gray gown fell about her tall, slender form with such grace.
She shook her head in confusion. “But it is snowing. Would they not be mad to attempt such a thing in this weather?” She swung back around to look at him hopefully. “Perhaps your man was mistaken or deliberately being misled.”
He did not wish to tell Lily just how dangerous the trip by sea was. Tristan shook his head, saying, “We do not believe that he is mistaken.” He paused for a long moment before continuing. “I know, Lily, that it is not pleasant for you to learn that your father would be involved in such a thing.”
She faced him, calling on his respect as she admitted, “Yes, I love my father, but as I have told you, regaining my memories has revealed to me that he is not a man of…strength.”
Tristan was not deaf to the sadness behind the words. He knew that he could no longer delay in telling her what he had only realized after the storm had continued to worsen throughout the day. He took a deep breath. “There is a possibility that it might well cost him his life. The danger on this stretch of coastline is very real. As you know, it is the very reason for building the signal tower.”
The sudden pain in her eyes confirmed that what he was planning to do was right. Lily loved her father no matter what he might have done. It would hurt her deeply to lose him.
She put her hand to her midriff. “Is there any chance they could have changed their minds because of the storm?”
Tristan went to her, though he knew that there was nothing he could do or say that would soften the blow of what he must tell her. “Nay, they were to leave the port at Hywell at dawn, and according to the information given Benedict, the sky was clear there as late as last eve. Barring a complete transformation of conscience, which I can assure you has not taken place, there is really no possibility that Harcourt would change his mind.”
Lily turned to him, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “What am I to do?”
Tristan held out his arms, unable to stop himself. No force on earth could have prevented him from doing so in this moment when she had need of him. She came into them, her form soft and yielding in her sorrow. He found himself whispering against her silky hair, “I am sorry, Lily, so very sorry.” And he was, for many reasons, but mostly because she could not love him.
There was an unmistakable quaver in her voice as she said, “Then there is very little hope that I will ever see my father again?” Her question made it obvious that she had misunderstood his words. He realized there was no point in explaining.
Tristan held her away from him, his eyes meeting hers. “Perhaps there may be something…”
She looked up at him, her gaze incredulous. “But what can you do? It is too late to stop them from coming.”
He shook his head. “I will not speak of it now. The decision is not mine alone. Shortly, my brothers will be meeting with me in the library, where we will not be overheard. I wish for you to be there as well.”
She stared at him for a long moment, then nodded, her gaze hopeful. “If anyone can think of a way to help my father it is you, Tristan.”
He released her, stepping back. Holding her like that, seeing the trust in her eyes, made him wish for things that could never be. He made no rejoinder, only prayed that there would be time to put his plan into effect.
His three brothers were already in the library when Tristan and Lily arrived. Tristan looked at the others seated about the table and knew that he had to convince them. And before it was too late.
He realized that by lighting the tower he would, at
best, be saving the life of the man who was coming to take Lily away from him. By not doing so, he would be condemning not only Maxim, but also Lily’s father to a near certain death.
Taking a deep breath, Tristan said, “It is my intent to light the signal tower in the hope that Maxim Harcourt’s captain will be able to safely come to shore.”
The room exploded in outrage.
“What?”
“Are you mad?”
“Tristan, do you know what you ask of us?”
He went on, not answering their comments. “There is more. I will have need of help in getting the reflective metal shield in place. I would appreciate your aid—” he looked at each of his brothers’ faces in turn “—but I will understand if you do not feel that you can give me assistance in this. I have endangered all here by my actions as it is—”
Lily interrupted him then, wiping a hand across her horrified eyes. “You cannot do it, Tristan.”
He looked at her, so dear and familiar, yet never to be his. His love for her was like a river of pain in his blood as he asked, “How can I do otherwise? You would never be able to forgive me for not trying to save your father, and neither could I forgive myself.” He turned back to his brothers. “Well, what say you?”
Benedict stood. “You are my brother, Tristan. How could I do aught but help you when I know that what you propose is the only honorable course? There are more folk than Harcourt, or even Lily’s father, aboard that ship.”
Tristan bowed. “As ever, you have my love and thanks.”
With a cry of despair, Lily swung around and ran from the room. Tristan’s heart throbbed in reaction to her distress, but he could not call her back.
He knew how responsible she felt for what was happening. His own guilt in the matter twisted like a vise in his guts.
Benedict looked to Marcel and Kendran, who had remained silent after their initial outburst. “Well, shall we get to it then?”
Kendran stood with a grim nod.
Marcel was slower to react.
Tristan felt his angry stare and met it directly, saying, “I will not mark it against you, Marcel, do you wish to hold back from this. Your feelings are justified, and I will ever call you brother in words and in my heart.”
Marcel’s anger crumbled before his very eyes. “Ah, Tristan, you know I cannot hold myself back from helping you no matter what has happened. And as Benedict says, there are others upon that ship. I will come.”
Tristan felt his heart swell with emotion. They would stand together as they had since their parents’ deaths, not only brothers but friends and allies.
Lily ran to Sabina’s chambers, refusing to shed the tears that threatened. She must try to master her own emotions now. It was because of her own inability to act as she should and leave Brackenmoore that all of this had come about.
Genevieve was there with Sabina, and it was no great task for Lily to read the anxiety in her gaze as she stood, coming toward her the moment she opened the door. Her voice was deliberately calm, but this was obviously in deference to the child who played near the hearth. “I know you have met with Tristan and the others. That means they are planning something.”
Lily did not attempt to deny it. “Yes.” Quickly she told her about the enemy ship sailing toward them in the storm, and the fact that her own father was aboard.
Genevieve gave a gasp of shock. “What will they do?”
Lily faced her honestly. She was done with trying to prevaricate. It had all been in aid of protecting herself, at any rate. “They will light the tower in the hope of guiding the ship to shore.”
Genevieve did not appear surprised by this news. Clearly she knew the brothers well. Scowling thoughtfully, she said, “The shield is not yet in place. In this storm the signal tower is not likely to be of great aid to them without it.”
Lily did not waver in her gaze as she admitted just how much the brothers were willing to do to save her father. “Tristan and the others mean to put it into place now.”
Genevieve gasped. “In this weather?” She paused, then added, “Marcel as well?” There was no mistaking the fear in her voice as she said the last.
A light of understanding suddenly dawned in Lily’s mind, though she had no time now to examine it or what it might mean to herself—to Tristan. She went to the chest and took up her cloak as she answered, “Aye, all four of them have gone.”
Genevieve came after Lily, putting her hand on her arm as she began to put the cloak around her shoulders. “What are you about, Lily?”
“I am not sure, but I must do something, Genevieve. I am responsible for everything that has happened here. I can not sit idly by and wait for the outcome.” She faced the other woman with determination.
Genevieve seemed to see that she would be able to do nothing to change Lily’s mind on this. She said only, “Tristan will not be pleased.”
Lily shrugged. “Then that is as it must be. I will not cower here out of fear of his opinion.”
She knew that Tristan would indeed be angry if he knew that she planned to go out to the signal tower, for she realized that was what she must do. Thus she had no intention of telling him until she got there. He would surely be too occupied to concern himself with her then.
Lily realized there was very little she could do by way of aid, but she could not remain here safe and warm in the keep when Tristan and his brothers were out in the storm trying to save the ship. It would not be right.
To her utter surprise she felt Genevieve’s arms close around her. The younger girl spoke earnestly. “God go with you, Lily.”
Lily simply stood there for a long moment, then she returned the embrace with more feeling than she would have thought possible. “I…thank you, Genevieve. I shall never forget your kindness to me.”
With that she turned and hurried from the room.
She went straight to the kitchen. There she found Maeve directing the kitchen maids in the preparation of the evening meal. It would certainly be more work with the influx of villagers who had been forced to come in because of the siege.
She turned when Lily stopped at her side, her smile weary but welcoming. “Is there something you need, Lily?”
Lily nodded, wondering if the head woman would be so pleasant if she knew that Lily was the cause of all this upheaval. “Aye. I have need of a container of warmed wine, some fresh bread and some cheese, if that is possible?”
Maeve nodded without hesitation, obviously responding to the authority in Lily’s tone automatically. “I can get it for you immediately.”
Moments later Lily was leaving the kitchen, a flask of warm wine and the food in a woolen bag that she held firmly in hand. Her next task would be to gain the outside of the castle wall.
Lily knew that she would need to be careful in leaving the castle. She did not wish to be taken by Maxim’s men, but was certain the inclement weather would disguise her activities.
That was indeed the case. As soon as she had passed through the postern, without the guards, who stood nearby, seeing her, she breathed a sigh of relief. The camp at the edge of the clearing around the castle wall was hardly visible through the curtain of falling snow, and she could make out no sign of movement. It seemed the men were just waiting out the storm until their master’s arrival. Though they must be concerned on that count, considering the turn the weather had taken.
Lily did not even think of using the tunnel. That was very likely the way that Tristan and his brothers were leaving the keep. Under no circumstances did she wish to meet them there. Not only would she be forced to explain how she had learned of its existence, she would also be sent back to the keep forthwith.
But she had not gone many feet from the gate before she felt a trace of anxiety on her own account. The snow was coming down quite hard and visibility was not good.
Taking a deep breath for courage, she pulled her cloak more closely about her and started off. Her father was out on the rolling sea in this storm. What she would face in g
aining the tower would be of little danger in comparison.
The farther she got from the dark and comforting shape of the castle behind her, the less Lily was sure of her bearings. Though the snow was not yet deep in the open, it was beginning to drift about every obstacle, no matter how small. The wind drove the falling snow into her face with a stinging force and whipped her cloak about her wildly. She held on to the hood, knowing she must protect her eyes in order to maintain any sense of direction, for becoming completely disoriented in the white of the sky and ground could prove far too easy. It was only when she focused on the pounding throb of the sea before her that she was able to feel she was consistently going in the right direction. Once she reached the edge of the cliff it was simply a matter of turning to her left and following along it.
She knew it was not so very far to the tower, yet the journey seemed to take a very long time. It was with a vast surge of relief that she finally saw the dark shadow of the structure appear on the horizon ahead of her.
She quickened her pace, not letting herself think about what Tristan would say to her when she arrived. For she was quite aware that it would not be welcoming.
* * *
Tristan and his brothers had had no problem creeping away from the castle. They told no one else what they were doing. By unspoken assent they had decided that what they were about to do need not involve their folk.
Even if by some stroke of fate they were able to get the shield in place, then light it in a timely fashion, and the captain of the ship was able to see it, who knew what Maxim would do? Knowing what they did of his character, it was not unlikely that he might still wish to see his revenge played out. Tristan did not want any of the castle folk to feel that they must give aid to the very men who meant to attack them.
If it were not for Lily’s father being on that ship, Tristan was quite sure he would never have suggested this. Maxim Harcourt was a poor excuse for a man, in his view, and the world would not be slighted by the loss of such a one. But Lily’s father was on that vessel with him. And Lily loved him.
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