Scott simply shook his head. “There is nothing to forgive,” he said. “You want her to be happy. I am sure Nathaniel would want the same. Meanwhile, I suppose I must tell her of her destiny but I have hesitated since she has much happening in her life with the death of her husband and new baby. I will therefore ask you, Huntley – will she be strong enough to hear this?”
Gordon gave him a look that suggested he didn’t envy Scott the position he was in. “One cannot choose but to wonder,” he said quietly. “I always thought she was the strongest woman I ever knew, like her mother. But after Nat’s death, she let it crush her. You saw her when you first came to Canaan; you saw how she was. The birth of the baby has lifted her from despair and she seems normal enough these days, so the question you ask – one cannot choose but to wonder. I suppose we shall know soon enough.”
“Then you believe I should tell her?”
“I believe she must know. It is her right.”
That settled the matter as far as Scott was concerned. To hear it from Stewart was one thing, but to hear it from the woman’s father was another. The decision was made.
“Then I shall seek her out and deliver the news,” he said, sounding hesitant even as he said it. “As for the du Rennic knights, say nothing. I shall tell them myself after I tell Lady du Rennic.”
“As you wish, my lord.”
Sensing the conversation was over, Gordon turned for the solar door but Scott stopped him. “Thank you for your wise counsel, Huntley,” he said. “I hope it would not be too much imposition to seek it again from time to time while I am here.”
Gordon turned to look at him, surprised that the all-powerful Scott de Wolfe should seek his wisdom. “I am happy to do what I can, my lord.”
Scott’s gaze lingered on him before nodding and Gordon continued on, out of the solar. Stewart, who had been over near the door, took a few silent steps to the portal and stuck his head outside, noting that Gordon had headed out into the bailey. When the man was out of earshot, Stewart turned to Scott.
“He took the news more calmly than I expected,” he said. “Certainly, he is not as temperamental as his son.”
Scott was looking at the missive on the table but not really seeing it; his mind was already ahead to telling Lady du Rennic of her destiny. “Nathaniel always spoke highly of Gordon Huntley,” he said. “The House of Huntley used to be wealthy landowners in this area but bad fortune saw them lose their money over the years, which is why Nathaniel married Huntley’s daughter. They were friends for years and when Nathaniel’s first wife died, he offered for Lady Avrielle’s hand. It kept the family from starving to death.”
Stewart shrugged. “It sounds as if it was more than that. Gordon said that Nathaniel was in love with the woman.”
What’s not to love? Scott had to catch himself from saying that. Stewart was already suspicious enough about his opinion of the lady and he didn’t want to add any fuel to the fire.
Truth be told, however, he realized now that he was actually eager to see Lady du Rennic, even if it was to deliver bad news. Now, he had an excuse to see her that wouldn’t have Stewart thinking that he was interested in the woman. But his delight in realizing he had an excuse to see her told him that, indeed, there was some interest there no matter how hard he’d tried to ignore it. How hard he’d tried to fight it. Maybe that something in him, long buried, was going to claw its way out, after all.
“I suppose I should find her and tell her,” he said, ignoring Stewart’s statement about Nathaniel loving Lady du Rennic because he realized he very well agreed with the man. Glancing out one of the lancet windows, he could see that the sun was beginning to set. “Gather the du Rennic knights in here before supper. Once I tell Lady du Rennic, I must tell them as well. It would not do for only a few to know what will soon be the fate of Castle Canaan and Lady du Rennic.”
Stewart watched him as he moved away from the table, heading for the solar door. “At least they no longer have their weapons,” he said, half in jest. “We do not have to worry about them swinging swords in a rage once they discover they are soon to have a Scottish overlord.”
Scott simply cocked an eyebrow. “I am prepared for a rage, nonetheless, for they have already proven themselves capable of tantrums,” he said, glancing at Milo as he reached the door, as the man had been standing back in the shadows watching the entire situation. “I would say you should be in the room when I speak with the du Rennic knights, but I am not sure your groin wound can take another fight so soon.”
Milo smiled thinly. “It is healing nicely, thank you,” he said. “I can handle a fight.”
“Are you certain?”
“I am.”
Scott gave him a half-grin as he headed out the door. “You may have to prove it.”
Milo looked at Stewart, who looked as if he held much the same sentiment. Tonight might see the outraged du Rennic knights facing punishment once again for another ridiculous outburst.
Time would tell.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Little Lady Sorsha was a very good baby, indeed.
Avrielle was positive she could see Nathaniel’s face in the tiny little features, and certainly the nose was his. Two weeks after Sorsha’s unexpected birth, Avrielle was feeling some joy in life again as she gazed at her baby daughter, fussing in her cradle as Sophia, ever the big sister, worked diligently to rock the cradle and soothe the savage beastie. The infant wasn’t exactly crying, simply fussing and whimpering. Sophia watched the baby with big eyes.
“Mama?” she said anxiously. “She must be hungry.”
Life, as Avrielle knew it, was close to normal again and she was coming to know the habits of her newest child. Standing over the bed in the lavish master’s bower, she carefully shook out the swaddling that that had been rinsed of the baby’s excrement, washed in a warm tub with soapwort, and dried overnight in the warm kitchens. The swaddling had to be hung inside, and the kitchens were the most logical place, so they had a smell somewhere between smoke and the savory herb used to cleanse it.
To Avrielle, it was a comforting smell. Life was, indeed, returning to normal – at least, as normal as it could be without Nathaniel. But she tried not to think about that because now she had Sorsha to focus on. Avrielle found that Nathaniel’s death was so much easier to bear when she looked at the new life they had created. The infant brought her immense comfort and after months of grief and madness, to finally feel some comfort was something to be grateful for. The dark days of grief were hopefully behind her.
“She may, indeed, be hungry, Fifi,” Avrielle said to her eldest child as she shook out one last piece of swaddling. Beside her, an old servant lent a hand. The old woman had been helping Avrielle since before Sophia was born and the children were quite attached to her, like a grandmother. “She seems to eat every hour.”
“Mayhap yer milk is not enough, my lady,” Hedwig, the old woman, offered helpfully. “Mayhap she is not getting enough. Should we feed her goat’s milk, too?”
Avrielle shook her head at the worried old woman. “She is getting plenty of milk,” she said. “She is simply hungry all the time.”
She grinned as she said it, moving away from the bed to the cradle at the end of it where Sophia was carefully rocking the babe. The child looked up at her mother anxiously as Avrielle peered at her youngest daughter.
“Will you feed her, Mama?” Sophia asked. “Can I help, too?”
Avrielle nodded. “Of course you can help,” she said as she bent over and carefully collected the infant into her arms. “Come with me and lend a hand.”
As Sophia eagerly followed her mother to a chair that was positioned near the hearth, Stephen sat in the corner with a vast array of toys; small, wooden soldiers, carts, and old rushes that represented a castle that his soldiers were evidently trying to breach. He watched his mother and sister as his mother settled down in the chair to feed the baby and his sister helped untie his mother’s bodice so she could bare a breast. But he w
asn’t interested in any of that; all he knew was that he had two sisters now and he was quite lonely, as the only boy. The birth of little Sorsha wasn’t nearly as exciting for him as it had been for Sophia.
More than that, he was restless. Cooped up inside the family’s sleeping chambers for the most part, he hadn’t been allowed to go outside as of late and he had hardly seen his uncle and grandfather at all. As a young lad who very much wanted to grow up to be a knight, he was sadly disappointed in spending all of his time with women. Although he was glad his mother was feeling better since the birth of his sister, back to her normal self and no longer hoeing a dead garden, Stephen was feeling a bit lonely these days.
“Mam?” he said, a little, wooden soldier in his hand. “Mam, can I go with Uncle Jeremy and Grandpapa outside?”
Avrielle exposed a full breast and settled the baby on the nipple. “Are you not content with your toys, Stephen?”
The boy shook his head, although the soldier in his hand was knocking over the rushes as he stormed the castle. “I want to ride my pony.”
Avrielle thought on the bailey, crammed with du Rennic soldiers as well as de Wolfe soldiers, and she wasn’t sure she wanted her four-year-old son among the fighting men. In truth, she’d been keeping the lad close to her these days for just that reason. There was much going on at Canaan with the advent of de Wolfe’s army that Stephen didn’t need to get caught up in.
“Mayhap tomorrow,” she said. “Remember I told you that we have many soldiers in the bailey now, men we do not know. I would feel better if you remained with me. It is safer here.”
Stephen frowned. “But I will be safe with Uncle Jeremy.”
Avrielle watched the baby suckle, thinking that she really didn’t want Stephen around her brother right now. Jeremy and the other du Rennic knights were being punished as a result of their actions against de Wolfe and she thought it best not to put Stephen in the middle of that contention.
Also, her brother was rather volatile these days, and both he and her father were very busy with tasks assigned to them by de Wolfe. Although she knew they had to be punished, as de Wolfe had told her they would be, she was rather glad the punishment had been relatively minor. No beatings, no confinement to the vault. There was manual labor involved, for she had seen her unhappy brother working on the roof of the stable, but considering what he’d done to de Wolfe and de Wolfe’s army, she considered it a small price to pay. She was sure that Jeremy, however, didn’t.
“Mayhap tomorrow,” she said. “We must speak to Uncle Jeremy and Grandpapa to make sure they do not have duties to attend to first.”
Stephen still wasn’t happy with that answer. Now, he was knocking apart all of the rushes, his gesture wrought with frustration. “I do not want to stay here,” he said, grumpy. “I want to go outside!”
Avrielle knew the child was unhappy and restless. “Patience, Stephen,” she said evenly. “Soon enough, you shall see your uncle and grandfather. Mayhap I will ask them if you can eat in the hall with them tonight. Would you like that?”
Stephen’s dour expression lit up like lightning against a dark sky. “You will?” he asked. “Aye! I want to eat with them tonight!”
Thrilled, he went back to his toys and Avrielle knew he would be content now, at least until the evening meal, which wasn’t far off. She wasn’t exactly sure how she could hold the boy off from eating with his uncle and grandfather even though she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted him in the hall. She’d simply offered to let him eat with his uncle and grandfather because his expression had been so unhappy but, now, she was coming to regret it. She began to pray that he would either fall asleep before the feasting commenced or forget about her suggestion altogether. Being Nathaniel du Rennic’s son, however, he had a mind like a steel trap. The child forgot nothing.
Resigned, Avrielle turned her attention back to her nursing daughter as old Hedwig finished up with the swaddling laid out on the bed. Everything was carefully rolled up to be tucked away in the wardrobe to be reused again and again. As Sophia began to crowd over her mother, anxious to watch the new baby feed, there was a soft knock on the chamber door. Before Hedwig could move to answer it, Stephen jumped up and beat the old woman to the door because he thought it might be his uncle or grandfather. Gleefully, he threw open the panel only to be faced with an unexpected sight.
Scott de Wolfe stood in the open door, his hulking presence filling it up. Avrielle could see the man lingering in the doorway from her position near the hearth and she quickly had Sophia bring her one of the swaddling blankets so she could cover her exposed breast.
“My lord,” she said politely, looking at the man from across the chamber. “We are honored by your visit. May I be of service?”
Scott didn’t try to come in; he remained at the open door, unmoving because he’d not yet been invited in. His gaze moved from Stephen to Sophia and finally to Avrielle, seated by the hearth with the babe against her breast and a blanket covering most of her upper torso.
“I have a need to speak with you, my lady,” he said, somewhat awkwardly. “But I see that you are else occupied. I will come another time.”
“Wait,” Avrielle said before he could turn away. “I am only feeding the baby, but if it makes you uncomfortable, then I shall not be much longer. Shall I send word to you when I am presentable?”
Scott eyed the woman across the chamber. He was struck anew by just how beautiful she was. He’d forgotten. He’d seen her only sporadically over the past two weeks, but it was always at a distance or in passing. He hadn’t even spoken to her. But now, looking at her and her beautiful children, God help him, he could feel stabs of those hated emotions again. Comfort… warmth… compassion. He could feel weakness again but he couldn’t seem to turn away.
“It does not make me uncomfortable,” he said, although being in her mere presence made him feel somewhat uneasy. To be in the presence of such beauty was unnerving for a man. “I was simply trying to be proper and allow you your privacy.”
Avrielle laughed softly, giving him a rather knowing expression. “I believe the time for propriety and privacy between us fled the moment you delivered my child,” she said, watching him smirk. “Please come in, my lord. I welcome your visit.”
Those were sweet words to him, drawing him into the room. His feet were moving before he even realized it and he moved past Stephen, who was gazing up at him with an unwavering stare as he made his way to Avrielle.
“You are kind to receive me,” he said. “I will not take much of your time, but there are matters that I must discuss with you. I fear they cannot wait.”
Avrielle nodded, reaching out to tug her son by the arm because the child seemed fixated on Scott. “Stephen,” she said. “Please bring Lord Bretherdale a chair.”
Stephen tore his gaze from Scott and turned around, hunting for a chair and only finding a stool. As Scott and Avrielle watched him with varied degrees of amusement, Stephen picked up the stool and staggered with it over towards Scott, who took it from the boy so he wouldn’t collapse under the weight of it.
“My thanks,” Scott said. “You are very strong.”
Stephen puffed up with pride. “I am!” he said. Then, he held up and arm and flexed it. “I have brawn on my arms. See?”
Scott bit his lip to keep from grinning. The boy was showing him his muscles and he pretended to be impressed. “You most certainly do. I have never seen finer brawn on anyone.”
Stephen was thrilled. “Someday I will be as strong as you.”
“I have no doubt.”
“Can I fight for you?”
“I would be fortunate to have such a strong knight.”
Stephen was as pleased as he could possibly be. Scott glanced at Avrielle, flashing her a grin, before he set the stool down and planted himself on it. It was a small stool and he was a big man, so it looked rather ridiculous, but he remained. Just as he opened his mouth to address her, Stephen planted himself right in front of him. The boy invaded
Scott’s personal space as he moved in quite close.
“I have been watching from the window,” Stephen said seriously. “I have seen your men. They practice in the bailey with their swords.”
Scott had to admit that the child was quite adorable and outspoken, reminding him of his own sons. The older boys, Will and Tommy, had been away fostering for years and he’d not seen them in quite some time, but he remembered them when they were young and bold and eager, much like Stephen. And Andrew… the lad had been about Stephen’s age when he had perished. Scott fought off a sense of sorrow thinking of the son he’d lost so young.
“They must practice so they will fight well when the time comes,” he replied.
“I saw a man get cut by a sword.”
“That is not unusual.”
“Can I come with you and watch the next time they practice?”
“Stephen,” Avrielle admonished softly. Her son was so eager to have male companionship that he was practically climbing all over de Wolfe. “Lord Bretherdale is a very busy man. Please step away so you do not waste his time. He has come to speak with me.”
She reached out a free hand to pull him back but Scott stopped her. “He is no bother,” he assured her. In truth, he rather liked talking to the little lad because it reminded him of his own boys when they were small. Such memories were usually painful but, at the moment, he found they made him smile. “Stephen is bright and interested in the world around him. He is a tribute to his father.”
Avrielle smiled. “Thank you for saying so,” she said quietly. “Nat was very proud of his son.”
Scott’s gaze lingered on Avrielle, staring into her bright blue eyes a moment, before returning his focus to Stephen. “He has your eyes but Nathaniel’s features,” he said. “I see Nathaniel in him a great deal.”
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 183
