The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Paris was taken aback. “Who told you that?” he demanded. “I never said such a thing!”

  “Is that what you think?”

  It was evident that Troy wasn’t going to back off or back down. There was an intensity in his eyes that only Troy de Wolfe was capable of. He had his father’s hazel eyes that, when aroused with anger, took on an almost animalistic gleam to them. Something hard and unnatural. That was what Paris saw now and he hastened to clarify the situation.

  “I do not think that,” he said honestly. “But it does seem… sad that you now have a wife who is not my daughter. You married her when she was so young, Troy. It has always been you and Helene. And now your father has used you to forge an alliance with Red Keith. I will admit, it did not bother me in the beginning, but I have had time to think on it. It will be strange knowing you are married to another woman and not my daughter.”

  Troy gazed at the man a moment before dropping his hand from his shoulder. In truth, he could see Paris’ point of view. He understood it well.

  “Mayhap I am married to her, but she will not take your daughter’s place,” he said quietly. “She is a wife in name and nothing more. Have no fear. She can never wipe Helene’s memory from me, not ever. It is ingrained in me as surely as the stars are ingrained in the heavens. That will never change.”

  Perhaps that was something that Paris needed to hear at that moment. These were days of change for him as well. It was bad enough losing his daughter but now he felt he was losing her memory as well as her husband took on another wife. But he didn’t voice that; it wouldn’t do any good.

  Patting Troy on the cheek, he turned away from the man and continued on to his troops where Apollo was organizing the party. Troy watched him go as William came up behind him.

  “Thank you for telling him that,” William said softly. “I think he needed to know that.”

  Troy turned to his father. “You heard?”

  “Aye.”

  Troy drew in a deep breath, the air full of morning dew and free of the smoke that had been so prevalent the last few days. He looked around the bailey, so full of men, and found himself rather disappointed that he wasn’t going with them.

  “No one likes what you have done, Papa, least of all me and Uncle Paris,” he said after a moment, “but we both understand why you did it. I will make the best of it and so will Uncle Paris. Now, how long do you wish for me to remain at Monteviot? Now that we are allied with Red Keith, there is really no reason for me to remain. I can just as easily put another knight in charge while I return to Kale Water.”

  He was changing the subject away from the emotional part of the situation and on to the reality of it. William simply went with the shift, unwilling to discuss the marital aspect of it any longer because nothing could change it. Troy and Paris would accept it, as they had to, and that was all he cared about. He’d been in command of his empire for so long, but it was moments like this that made him feel old and worn and tired. He didn’t like playing with people’s lives but, at times, it was necessary.

  Such was the burden of command.

  “You mentioned that you were going to send for Brodie and Cassius,” he said, moving with the change in focus. “Do you still intend to do that?”

  Troy shook his head. “As I said, since we are now allied with Red Keith, I see no reason to overly fortify Monteviot, and that includes pulling my knights from Kale Water. But I might send Brodie here when I return to Kale. I would like to have at least one of my knights in command.”

  The gates of Monteviot began to swing open; the sounds of grating iron and chains could be heard all across the compound. The troops for Berwick were up near the gate, Patrick’s troops, and Troy knew that they would depart first.

  “I would bid farewell to Patrick before he leaves,” he said. “While I am gone, think of what you would have of me here at Monteviot. Tell me if there is anything you wish for me to accomplish. I am eager to return to Kale Water and do not want to spend too much time here.”

  William nodded. “You’ll spend enough time to see everything properly repaired and the area settled,” he said, grabbing on to Troy’s arm when the man went to move away. “And you will speak with Keith before you go back to Kale Water. You will at least try to form some kind of bond with the man, Troy. You are his son now and it is important, for the sake of peace and the sake of family, to have a relationship with him.”

  Troy nodded, distracted. “I will,” he said. “Let me see to Patrick and then we shall speak more before you depart. And where is James? I must see to him as well.”

  William let him go, watching Troy as he headed towards the gates. The land was now starting to turn shades of purples and pinks as the sky above turned colors from the rising sun. As he turned back to the troops from Castle Questing, which were to the rear of the bailey, he caught sight of Audric emerging from the hall.

  The priest ate and drank himself into oblivion the night before, so William was surprised to see that the man was up and moving so early. As Troy went off to bid his brothers and friends a good journey, William made his way over to the priest, who seemed to be rubbing his eyes and staggering somewhat. In fact, by the time William reached the man, he had to grab him to steady him. Audric looked up at him, blinking his eyes.

  “Och,” he said, seeing the rather amused expression on William’s face. “It seems that I canna drink Sassenach wine and not feel the effects of it the next day. What do ye make it with? Poison?”

  William kept a straight face. “The blood of unpleasant priests.”

  Audric eyes widened but he saw the flicker of a smile on William’s lips so he broke down into a grin. “I always said the English were a wicked lot.”

  “I cannot disagree with that, but we’re no worse than the Scots.”

  Audric sighed faintly, nodding but realizing that hurt his head, so he quickly stopped. “That be true, in many ways,” he said. Then, he spied Troy near the gates, talking with a pair of big English knights. “So yer son survived the night, did he? I had me doubts.”

  William’s gaze moved to Troy also. He was speaking to Patrick and James. But as he watched, Corbin and Case came over to his son, as they were preparing to depart also, and Troy slapped Corbin on the side of the head and the others laughed. Considering how the young knight had harassed Troy’s new wife last night, the smack was well deserved. William fought off a grin at the camaraderie – and the irritation – of old friends.

  “I had my doubts also,” he admitted, returning his focus to the priest. “But he says that everything is well this morning.”

  “Have ye seen his wife tae ask her the same question?”

  “Nay,” William said. “But I am sure she will show herself soon enough. Her father is preparing to leave, also.”

  He was pointing off to the southern end of the hall – the exterior of it – where Red Keith and his men had spent the night, wrapped up in their dirty tunics and sleeping beneath the stars. Audric snorted.

  “Could nothin’ ye say convince the man tae spend the night in a room full of Sassenach?” he asked.

  William shook his head. “Not even when I promised to sleep between him and my men,” he said. “There was nothing I could say to convince him otherwise.”

  “It seems he dunna trust those he’s now allied with.”

  William knew there was some truth to that. “That is what I wish to speak to you about,” he said. “I think it is important for you to remain here for a time, at least while my son and his new wife are coming to know each other. Your counsel may be crucial to this marriage being a success. Will you consider it?”

  Audric looked at him with some surprise. He hadn’t been expecting such a request and was therefore unprepared with a firm answer.

  “I dunna know if I can,” he said. “I am expected back at Jedburgh.”

  “I will write to your abbot and ask permission, then. I feel that your presence here is important, Audric. You know the couple; you have seen how t
hey met, how they married. You understand the situation. They may need you.”

  Audric did, indeed, and it was a volatile one. After a moment, he sighed. “I suppose I could spare some time tae remain,” he said. “But send the missive tae the abbot today. I dunna want the man wonderin’ where I’ve gone.”

  William felt some relief that the priest had agreed to remain behind. “Good,” he said. “I will send the missive off before I leave here this morning. Let me attend to it now. Meanwhile, go and tell Keith Kerr that you will be remaining for the sake of his daughter. I am sure he will find some comfort in that.”

  “Unless he thinks I’m here tae give her or her husband last rites when they tear each other tae pieces.”

  William grinned. “I am confident that will not happen.”

  With that, he turned on his heel and headed off into the collection of English men, his destination the provisions wagon from Questing that held all of his possessions, including his writing implements.

  Audric watched him go, thinking the man held a strong belief that the unexpected marriage between his son and Keith’s daughter would succeed. He could hear it in the man’s voice. From what Audric had seen, he wasn’t so certain, but he’d been asked to stay and mediate. Or counsel, as de Wolfe had put it. Either way, he was in a position to help this alliance and he didn’t take that lightly. He didn’t think his superiors would, either. Somehow, he suspected that peace along this entire stretch of border depended on it.

  Not surprisingly, Keith was glad to hear of Audric’s plans. But he didn’t wait for his daughter to show herself, thinking it would be better if he didn’t. After her first night as a married woman, he might not like what she had to say, so he and his men left Monteviot as the big contingent from Berwick flooded from the gates.

  Keith felt like a coward for leaving his daughter without finding out how she fared with her new husband but, in hindsight, perhaps it was best if he didn’t know.

  As he’d been saying all along… it wasn’t as if he could change things.

  Rhoswyn would have to find her own way now.

  CHAPTER TEN

  For some reason, Rhoswyn didn’t want to bid her father a farewell.

  She’d awoken, alone in the makeshift bed and feeling momentarily disappointed that Troy hadn’t remained with her. But the moment she sat up, she saw that the fire had been stoked and her clothes, which had been piled up in the corner, were lying on the floor before the fire to warm them before she put them on. That was an incredibly thoughtful gesture and one that brought a rather bashful smile to her lips. Even if Troy had left her sleeping, he’d still thought of her.

  Somehow, that meant something.

  So, she rose from the bed and pulled her warm clothes on, going to the window of the tower to see the northern part of the bailey and the fact that it was full of men and wagons, men preparing to depart Monteviot. She knew her father was out there, somewhere, but she didn’t feel much like seeing him. She knew he would ask her questions about the night, and if the marriage had been consummated, and that wasn’t something she wanted to share with anyone, least of all her father. She was still trying to process what had happened last night because, for the first time in her life, she felt like a woman.

  She’d never felt that way before.

  It was quite a paradox – the woman who had only ever wanted to fight like a man versus the sensual woman that had emerged under Troy’s expert touch. The way he’d touched her, kissed her… was that what it meant to be a woman? To feel warmth and excitement and tenderness? No one had ever told her that aspect of it although, in hindsight, she thought her mother might have tried, but she’d been too young to understand. Certainly, she couldn’t have grasped all that had happened last night. All she knew was that she liked, very much, what had happened last night and she was both ashamed to admit it and eager for more.

  It made for a very confusing state.

  But she didn’t want to talk to her father about it. She’d seen the man the previous night and he said all he needed to say to her – or, at least, all she wanted to hear. She didn’t want to spoil her memories of last night with her father’s questions or last minute advice, and she waited in the chamber as the sun rose until the last of the English troops filtered out of her line of sight. By that time, she could only assume that nearly everyone had left, including her father, so it was then that she put her boots on and made her way down to the entry level of the tower.

  But she was hesitant about going outside. She stood in the doorway, peering out into the brisk early morning, and seeing that there were at least a few hundred English soldiers who hadn’t left. Some were cleaning up the clutter and debris left behind by the armies while others were repairing part of the stables. She even saw the priest who had performed the wedding mass going into the stables, perhaps to tend his horse. Everyone seemed to have assigned duties so Rhoswyn stepped out into the morning, keeping an eye out for Troy. She found that she very much wanted to see the man, but she was nervous to see him in the same breath. It made for a strange quandary as she headed for the great hall, thinking he might be there. She was nearly to the door when she heard her name being called.

  “Rhoswyn!”

  Sharply, she turned to see Troy heading towards her, jogging across the bailey from the direction of the stables. He was wearing almost all of the armor she had seen him wearing yesterday when she’d defeated him, but now with the sun glistening off of the steel mail, it glimmered like light reflecting off the water. There was some kind of surreal quality to it and her heart began to thump against her ribcage at the sight of him. Would he be happy to see her, too? Or would he realize what a terrible mistake they’d all made? She held her breath as he came close.

  “How did you sleep?” he asked as he came to a halt. “I was up before dawn because my father and his men were moving out, but I did not want to wake you.”

  That voice. Rhoswyn knew now that it wasn’t merely the sight of the man causing her heart to race, but that voice. It affected her like a potion, something that made her feel and react as if she had no control over it.

  “I slept well,” she said, but the conversation stopped after that and she felt as if she should say something more. “I… I saw the men movin’ out earlier. It willna take long for yer father to reach his home?”

  Troy shook his head. “Castle Questing is twelve miles from here,” he said. “They will be home before supper. Now, my brother, Patrick, will take longer than that. He will not reach home until tomorrow.”

  Rhoswyn simply nodded. She wasn’t very good with small talk, especially to someone she didn’t really know. She’d never been very good with the art of conversation in general although, in this case, she wanted to be. She didn’t want Troy to think he’d married an idiot.

  “I… I remember meetin’ yer brothers but I must confess, I dunna remember much about them,” she said, grasping for things to say. “Mayhap someday they will return and I will come tae know them better.”

  Troy thought that sounded rather encouraging; he, too, had feared that he might meet with a wife full of regrets this morning and was pleased to see that, at least on the surface, it wasn’t the case. He had to admit that he was rather pleased to see her this morning. It had been a long time since he’d had the opportunity to greet a wife in the morning, although Helene hadn’t been much of a morning lover. She was up early, usually grumpy, and that didn’t wear off until midday. Funny how he found himself comparing Rhoswyn to Helene, noting one against the other.

  With Rhoswyn, he was about to embark on a whole new world.

  “Not only will my brothers return to Monteviot, but we shall also go to them,” he said belatedly. “I know you said that you have not traveled much, but I should like for you to see where my brothers live and meet their wives. Everyone will want to meet you.”

  She looked at him, her expression torn between suspicion and apprehension. “Why?”

  He laughed softly. “Because you are par
t of the de Wolfe family now,” he said. “My mother calls it the de Wolfe pack, you know. You shall hear it referred to that often.”

  He said de Wolfe pack with a heavy, and perfect, Scottish burr and Rhoswyn’s eyes widened. “Yer mother says it that way?”

  He noted her surprise. “She’s Scot,” he said. “Her father, my grandfather, was the chief of Clan Scott. Now, the chief is a close cousin, but my mother is much like you – she is also the daughter of a chief.”

  Rhoswyn was astonished. “Is it true?” she said. “I dinna know yer mother was Scots. Ye dinna tell me.”

  Troy shrugged. “We could only speak on so much last night,” he said. “You cannot learn everything about me all in one night. As the days go by, we’ll learn more of each other, including my mother being Scots. My brother, Patrick, married a Scots, too, as did my Uncle Paris and my Uncle Kieran. We have family ties to the Scots more than most, so my marriage to you really isn’t anything shocking in the annals of my family. In truth, it’s quite natural.”

  Oddly enough, Troy didn’t seem so much of a Sassenach now that Rhoswyn knew his mother was a Scot, and there were evidently a host of other Scot wives in his family. That thought gave her a great deal of comfort, in fact. She was already warming to him, but that bit of news seemed to warm her even more.

  “Then I shall be pleased tae meet yer mother someday,” she said. “But if she’s from Clan Scott, they dunna get on well with Clan Kerr. Did ye know that?”

  He nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “Hopefully, that will not pertain to you and me,” he said. “I know our introduction was brutal, but I hope we get on well, in time.”

  That soft comment sent her heart beating so fast that she was coming to feel faint. It was flattery, she thought, or at least could have been. It was such a sharp contrast to yesterday and the chaos of the day that she had no idea how to gracefully deal with it. Rhoswyn was accustomed to dealing with men, with battles, with commands and fighting, but introduce flattery into her world and she was at a loss.