Instead of one bed there were now two. The second bed had been stripped down and there were two more strange serving women pulling off linens and fluffing up the re-stuffed mattress. On the bed against the eastern wall that was covered with hides and linens, he could see Tacey sitting there, propped up with pillows as Penelope’s aunt fed her something out of a bowl. Penelope herself was standing on a stool while her mother fussed with a beautiful ivory gown that was draped over her body.
Bhrodi’s confusion took a dousing as his gaze beheld Penelope in the ivory garment; her hair, which he had only seen braided and bound to her head, was free and unbridled, tumbling in a great wavy mass down to her knees as she stood upon the stool with her back to him. He’d never seen such glorious hair. Penelope’s mother, a very lovely and young-looking woman for her advanced years, was focused on a sleeve but glanced up when she caught movement in the doorway. The woman’s pale green eyes immediately zeroed in on Bhrodi.
“Ah!” she called, turning to snap her fingers at her cousin as the woman spooned something into Tacey’s mouth. “The laird has returned, Jemma. Come, now. We must tend tae him.”
The entire room began to move with a purpose before Bhrodi could say a word. It seemed that women were coming at him from all directions, as if he were a magnet pulling them into his orbit. Jemma set the bowl down quickly and bade Tacey to lie down while Jordan put aside her pins. The two older women moved quickly towards Bhrodi as Penelope, realizing he was in the room, turned to catch a glimpse of him. But a glimpse was all she was able to catch as Jordan and Jemma surrounded him and whisked him away to the chamber across the corridor.
The door slammed shut and Penelope might have even heard them lock it. Having listened to her mother and Jemma most of the afternoon discuss the changes for Rhydilian, she knew Bhrodi was in for a serious conversation. She had wanted to be a part of the discussion but her mother had denied her. This was something Jordan felt strongly she needed to do alone as the mother of the young woman who would soon be living here. Now, all Penelope could do was wait and hope her future husband would still want to marry her after her mother was finished with him. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he called the whole thing off when all was said and done.
As for Bhrodi, he was still mightily confused, wondering what it was all about; strange servants, bustling activity, and now two serious women who seemed to be closing in on him. The door to the chamber he had been herded into wasn’t locked but it might as well have been; The Wolfe’s wife and her cousin were standing in front of it as if daring him to try and escape. Never mind the fact that this was the indisturbable chamber; Bhrodi sensed this wasn’t going to be a pleasant conversation if their expressions were any indication. He smiled weakly.
“You will forgive me for accidentally seeing my intended in her wedding gown,” he said, thinking perhaps they might be angry with him for that reason. “I simply came to see if….”
Jordan cut him off. “Not tae worry, m’laird,” she said. “The gown ’tisn’t finished yet. However, there is much tae speak tae ye about, if ye please. Ye must understand that we mean no disrespect, but there have been some… changes.”
Bhrodi lifted his eyebrows. “What changes?”
Jemma stepped forward; she was much more blunt than her cousin and in this case, since it wasn’t her daughter marrying the man, she could afford to be. She fixed him in the eye.
“Many changes,” she said frankly. “Let us begin with yer sister. Is it true ye keep the girl locked up with no one for company but yerself?”
Bhrodi had a feeling this might be part of their issues. When he found his sister’s chamber empty, he could only guess what had happened in his absence. To an outsider, he realized how the situation with Tacey might appear. After a moment, he nodded.
“It is for her own protection, I assure you,” he said quietly. “She carries a child of full-blooded Welsh royalty. Your king would love to get his hands on such a child. What I do, I do to keep her safe.”
“Bah,” Jemma spat. “She’s a child and ye’ve left her completely alone in a time when she needs womenfolk about her. Do ye know she doesna even realize how she became pregnant? No one ever explained to her the ways of men and women. And this boy who was her husband – he was brutal to her. Did ye know that? The lad kept her abed day and night since the moment they were married because it was put into his head that he had to beget her with child. Do ye know how frightened and hurt she was by that?”
Bhrodi was mildly taken aback, struggling not to feel guilt or confusion. “She is of royal blood and so was her husband,” he said as if he wasn’t sure what her problem was. “It was their duty to reproduce. Thanks to God she is pregnant now that he is dead. She alone is carrying on valuable royal lines.”
“And that’s another thing!” Jordan said, wagging a finger at him. “Ye keep her locked up because ye say ye’re protecting her, but that’s rubbish. Ye’re keeping her locked up tae preserve the pure bloodlines of the Welsh and I tell ye now that it’s disgraceful what ye’ve done. That poor lass in there is a babe herself with the expectations of all of Wales upon her. Ye’ve treated her with less compassion than ye would a dog. She’s a child, for God’s sake, not a brood mare. I’ll not stand for it, do ye hear? If ye expect tae marry me daughter, then there will be some changes around here that are fit for womenfolk or, by God, I swear I’ll pack me daughter up and take her back with me tae England. Are we clear on this?”
Bhrodi was in no position to do anything other than agree. Like most men, an angry woman, especially an angry woman who was to become his mother and kin, struck fear into him. He understood some of their concern, but for the most part, he honestly had no idea what had them so angry.
“What changes to you mean?” he asked seriously. “This is a military installation and I will not have you turn it into swamp of feminine finery and foolishness.”
Jemma growled but Jordan held her hand out to the woman to silence her. “Firstly, there will be women about this place. Ye need them. Therefore, while ye were out hunting, I asked one of yer soldiers tae take me tae the nearest town, which is the village on the other side of this mountain. I was able tae secure eleven women who were willing tae come and work here. One of them will be yer chatelaine because, God knows, me daughter knows nothing about that. Even now, the women are working on cleaning the keep and the hall. We must make this place livable for me daughter.”
Bhrodi’s eyebrows lifted. “So you engaged the women?” he said, incredulous. “Did you not stop to think that there was a reason I did not employ women at Rhydilian?”
Jordan waved him off. “Whatever yer reason ’tis ridiculous, I say,” she snapped. “This entire place stinks of men and foulness, and if me daughter is tae live here, then it will be made acceptable. As for the women, if yer soldiers canna keep their hands off them, then that is something ye must deal with. A strong commander would not have issue with his men’s behavior. He would control it.”
Bhrodi’s incredulity cooled into great displeasure. Now she was offending his senses as a military commander and he was close to letting loose on her regardless of the fact that she was The Wolfe’s wife. If the woman wanted an argument, he would certainly give her one.
“Madam,” he said slowly, “say what you will about my keep and the way I run it, but when you question my ability to control my men, you have gone too far.”
“Not far enough,” Jemma piped up. She had never been afraid of confrontation and, quite frankly, she was furious. On behalf of the neglected young woman she had spent the day with, she had to right the wrongs with the ignorant brother. “I will indeed question yer very ability to show mercy or compassion. Judging from the way you have kept yer sister shut up, ye have no sense of mercy at ’tall. Is that what kind of husband ye’ll be also? If yer wife doesna please ye, then ye intend to lock her up, too?”
Bhrodi looked between the two angry women; at the moment, he had quite enough anger of his own and he put his ha
nds up to stop the accusations.
“Listen to me,” he boomed, stopping the angry chatter. When two sets of startled eyes focused on him, he continued. “My sister has been confined to her room to keep her safe. I do not want her out and about where men can molest her, or where she can fall down steps and harm both her and the child. What I did, I did to protect her and if it is wrong, then I do not know what to say to all of that. Given the circumstances and my knowledge of such things, I did the best that I could. The last pregnant woman that was here did not fare very well and I sought to ensure that my sister fared better.”
Like water on a fire, that statement seemed to extinguish the angry Scots down considerably. At least they were no longer yelling at him. In fact, they looked at each other with a mild dose of confusion and perhaps a pinch of regret. It was evident that they were rethinking their strategy; perhaps they had acted with some haste in the matter, judging Bhrodi before they knew all of the facts. Jordan was the first one to speak, more calmly this time.
“Who was the last pregnant woman within these walls?” she asked softly.
For the second time since the arrival of Penelope and her family, Bhrodi found himself on the verge of speaking on the forbidden subject. He could feel the mood of the room around him, the old linens and old memories, as they clutched at him, begging him to free them of their cold and lonely prison. It occurred to him that, somehow, the subject of his wife was easier to discuss with women. They understood more, especially about the mysteries of childbearing. He thought that perhaps they understood death better, too.
Gazing into Jordan’s eyes, the shape of Penelope’s, he realized he was about to speak of the most painful moment of his life once again but perhaps this time, the reaction would be better. Perhaps these women wouldn’t think he was trying to earn their sympathy. Perhaps they would believe him.
“My wife,” he said, his voice hoarse and soft. “Her name was Sian and we had been married for seven years before she fell pregnant. She was from the House of Gwenwynwyn, a very old and royal Welsh family, so our child, much like my sister’s, was very much anticipated. Sian’s health had never been very good and the pregnancy was difficult. She was a very active woman so it was impossible to make her rest; she was always moving, always overseeing the keep, always doing something. When her time came, she labored to deliver our son for nearly three days and in the end, her body wasn’t strong enough to expel the very large infant. When she died, the physic took a dirk and cut the child out of her belly but it was too late; he was dead as well. Look around you; this was her chamber. This was where she bore my son and where she died. I shut this room off the day she perished and I have not returned since.”
Jordan and Jemma were looking at him with various degrees of sorrow. Jemma sighed sadly and lowered her gaze, realizing they’d been quite harsh with the man without discovering his reasons first. Given the circumstances, however, there had been few other conclusions they could come to. As Jemma shook her head with regret, Jordan put her hand on his big forearm.
“I am so sorry for ye,” she murmured. “I know what it is like tae lose a child. I lost one meself. Her name was Madeleine and she was born dead. Jemma lost a daughter, too, many years ago so, ye see, we both understand yer grief in losing a child. They say it is God’s Will but I will admit I have questioned the wisdom of such a thing. I canna see God killing a child for a greater good.”
Bhrodi shook his head, glancing from side to side, at an old chair and the old wardrobe that used to belong to Sian. “Nor I,” he murmured. “After she died, I banished all women from Rhydilian. I didn’t want to see them here. Physics were banished as well. They are worthless old fools. And then my sister came and when she became pregnant, I locked her in her chamber to force her to rest in the hopes that her child would be born healthy. I could not do that with my wife but I would do it with my sister. Now you know, so if my sense of mercy is ever in question again, mayhap now you will understand why I do what I do. I will not make the same mistake twice.”
Jordan nodded patiently. “And so ye willna,” she assured him softly. “Ye went through a difficult time but ye survived it. The death of a loved one tears yer heart out and nearly destroys yer soul, but ye dinna let it defeat ye. Ye’re stronger now than ye were before.”
Bhrodi gazed at the woman, feeling an odd connection with her. The Wolfe’s wife was the first woman he had ever met who had suffered the loss of a child and he found his guard going down even more. Finally, someone who could perhaps understand the anguish he had gone through. The arrogant de Shera persona was giving way to the vulnerable man beneath as he spoke to her.
“Mayhap,” he said softly. “But you must understand that I am doing what I can to help my sister. I am not trying to keep her from the world; I am trying to keep the world from her. I only want to keep her and the child safe.”
Jordan patted his hand in complete and utter understanding. No longer was she an enraged mother; now, she was coming to understand things just a bit more. She could see that Bhrodi, in his capacity as a warrior, was doing the only thing he could to protect his sister. Jordan was coming to see that The Serpent was just the least bit human, with human frailties. It gave her hope, for Penelope’s sake.
“Not tae worry, now,” she said confidently. “Jemma and I will help ye take care of yer sister and yer keep, but ye must trust us. Can ye do that? We only want what is best for ye and for Penny and for yer sister, I swear it.”
Bhrodi could see that she meant it. Beneath all of the Scots fire, he could sense that she was a loving and compassionate woman. He’d had little doubt of that even if she had overstepped her bounds in the process, which he was coming to see was for altruistic intentions. The woman meant well. Therefore, he was willing to give her a free hand in things she knew more about than he did. As the mother of his future wife, he was willing to trust her but as a practical man, he suspected he had little choice. If he wanted to marry the woman’s daughter, then he would have to bow to her wishes for the time being.
“No one has taken care of this keep for more than two years,” he muttered. “It may prove to be a difficult task.”
“I think we can manage.”
He had little doubt of that. After a moment, he shrugged. “Very well,” he said. “But I will admit, I still do not want womenfolk here.”
Jordan patted his arm again. “I realize that, but it will only serve to help ye,” she said. “I wouldna say so if it wasna true. Women are good for things other than childbearing.”
She said it with some humor and he smiled weakly. “And what are Scots good for?”
“Beating down the Welsh.”
“You did a good job of it.”
Jordan laughed softly. Then, her gaze moved over the dusty chamber and a measure of regret filled her features. “I must confess something tae ye,” she said quietly. “We dinna know this was yer wife’s room so we removed the bed and put it in the other chamber so that yer sister could share the chamber with Penelope for the time being. I have women washing the bed linens. I truly dinna know this was a chamber of sorrow. We thought it was simply unused.”
Bhrodi hadn’t noticed the missing bed when he had entered the chamber and felt a flash of anger at the confession but it was just as quickly doused. It was indeed an unused chamber, this indisturbable room, but perhaps two years was long enough to leave it as a shrine to loss. He was coming to think that perhaps it was a good thing Lady Jordan had taken charge of the room because he certainly was unable to do it. Perhaps it was better left to another, someone who would tend it and clean it the way Sian had. Nay, he realized that he wasn’t angry about it in the least. There was a part of him that was relieved.
“It was unused,” he murmured. “You… you have my permission to clean it. It was a warm and tidy chamber, once.”
Jordan was glad he wasn’t angry about it; now that she knew the history of the room, he would have had every right to be furious. But he seemed rather accepting of wha
t she had done.
“And it shall be again,” she assured him. “We will see tae it.”
It had taken a strange woman to accomplish in one day what close friends and servants had been unable to accomplish in two years. Bhrodi could feel the tension and uncertainty of the situation lift. When he had entered the room, he had felt their hostility but now he could feel their optimism. He was satisfied with it, he realized, and much more at peace than he had been in a very long while. The situation was changing at Rhydilian after two years of darkness and Bhrodi sensed that light was once again returning. For the first time in years, he had some hope for the future. Aye, things were changing and he was receptive for the most part.
Without another word, they began to move out of the chamber, heading for tasks that required their attention. There was a wedding on the morrow and they all had preparations to make.
It was going to be a very big day for them all.
*
Castell Meurig
The village of Llangefni, seven miles south of Pendraeth
They had all received the missive from Rhydilian Castle the same way – one of Bhrodi de Shera’s teulu, or personal guard, had brought the news of de Shera’s impending wedding. It was something that under normal circumstances would have been cause for great celebration, but the teulu who had delivered the missive to Lon ap Ganol of Castell Llandegfan had mentioned that de Shera’s bride was not Welsh. She was the daughter of a great English warrior sent by King Edward and even now, Rhydilian was filled with English who had practically taken over the castle.
The teulu was showing disloyalty to de Shera by divulging the information but ap Ganol was glad that he had. He was, after all, a staunch Welshman, proud of his heritage he was. What de Shera was doing was nothing short of treason.
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 290
