Gallus scratched his head. “It is possible,” he said. “But one thing is for certain – if we do not have reinforcements, and Henry truly means to attack us, then what Bose said is correct – he will raze Isenhall and we will all die. I do not wish to see that.”
“Nor I.”
They had a massive dilemma on their hands and each brother knew it. It was difficult to realize that they either had to swear fealty to a king they did not respect or face death. They’d known it all along but this was the closest they’d come to admitting it.
“Bose was right about something else,” Gallus said quietly. “We do have our families to consider.”
“We do.”
“Is it our pride standing in the way, then?”
Gallus shook his head. “I do not know if it is my pride or my conviction that the beliefs Simon held were right and true, above my life and the lives of my family.”
Maximus raked his fingers through his dark hair. He had come to a conclusion even if his brother had not. “I am willing to risk my own life for my beliefs but not the lives of my wife and children,” he said, standing up from the table. “Send de Lohr a missive and ask if he will reinforce our ranks should Henry come. If he will not, then I send my family to Lioncross for protection. I will not have them here if Henry comes.”
Gallus understood. “Jeniver and my children will go with them,” he said, sounding defeated for the first time during their conversation. Like it or not, they had to face what was coming. “I am sure Ty will send Douglass and his children as well. That way, when Henry comes, if he comes, it will only be the three of us facing him.”
Maximus didn’t say anything more. He didn’t have to. Without another word, he quit the chamber, heading upstairs to see to his wife and children. He had a sudden urge to hug them all and never let them go. Gallus let his brother go, the brooding middle brother, as he was lost to thoughts of his own.
The Coventry earldom had been in his family for two generations; only two. He didn’t want to see it end with him. He had a son to pass it along to, Bhrodi, and he wanted to make sure that happened. His conviction to stand for what he believed in was dwindling with the idea of preserving his lands and titles and fortune for his son and coming generations.
He prayed to God that he would make the correct choice.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Bexley Manor
Northwest of Rochester
It was very dark on this night, so dark that Alessandria could hardly see her hand in front of her face. It had been the same way the night before, with the moon rising more towards morning so that the entire night was as black as ink. Not even the blanket of stars above could pierce the veil of darkness very much. It was quiet, dark, and eerie.
The land smelled of compost, too, that moldering smell when there is heat and moisture, with the leaves rotting on ground. Although Alessandria couldn’t see the tree groves except for black masses against the moonless night, she could certainly smell them. She could imagine the creatures and even spirits out in the darkness that she couldn’t see. The Mother Prioress had told her charges that there were no such things as spirits or phantoms, but Alessandria had seen a ghost, once while she was fostering at Orford, so she believed in such things. She was rather frightened by them.
But riding with Chad made her feel safe. Having left Canterbury earlier that day at a dead run, there hadn’t been the opportunity for much conversation but Alessandria didn’t much care. She was comforted by his mere presence. As they’d cantered across the land, heading northwest, she’d stolen glances at him now and again. He was such a fine-looking man with an effortless posture as he rode his big, fat-arsed horse. Effortless in that he rode the horse with such ease, holding the reins but seemingly guiding the horse only with pressure from his thighs. That was true horsemanship.
As they rode along, Alessandria kept reliving their last conversation in which he’d asked to call her Aless. It made her heart thump simply to think on it again. In fact, everything about the man made her heart thump as of late – she had to only look at him to feel her heart begin to race. It was a feeling like she couldn’t even describe – something to do with a lightness of heart and soul, of joy, because the mere thought of him made her smile. No one had made her feel the way Chad did but she was quite certain the feelings were one-sided. A man as great and prestigious as Chad de Lohr could never feel the same way about her; of that, she was certain. But it didn’t stop her from dreaming.
Dreams that kept her occupied until Chad slowed their pace. They entered a small village called Bexleyheath, a sleepy town that, at the late hour, was all bottled up for the night. Alessandria looked around the village with interest, for having been stuck in Newington for all of those years made her very interested in new places. She wanted to ask what Chad’s plans were for the night but it seemed ill-advised to speak since he had been so silent. Perhaps there was a reason he’d not said a word, remaining quiet as they moved through the town.
Therefore, Alessandria simply followed without saying a word even though she was dying to. It wasn’t so much out of curiosity than it was simply because she wanted to hear the sound of his voice. She did so love the sound of his voice.
“There is a manor home at the end of this village,” he said, his deep, raspy voice filling the damp night air. “That is where I intend to seek shelter for the night. However, the lord of Bexley Manor is loyal to Henry and I have been wracking my brain trying to determine how I should introduce you. The de Shera name is not welcome amongst Henry’s loyalists these days.”
Alessandria shrugged. “You certainly do not have to be truthful about my identity, do you?”
Chad shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “But that brings us to another issue – you are an unmarried woman and I am an unmarried man, and we are riding together without a chaperone. That factor alone will probably give you a worse reputation than if I tell them you are a de Shera.”
“So what will you do?”
Chad looked over his shoulder, glancing at her. “You may not like it.”
“You will not know unless you tell me.”
A flicker of a smile crossed his lips. “It would be far easier if I simply introduce you as my wife,” he said. “There will be no questions and certainly no judgment. In the morning, we shall leave and they will be none the wiser.”
My wife. Alessandria looked at him in shock at the impropriety of what he was suggesting when she suddenly realized that nothing on earth would be more pleasurable. The wife of Chad de Lohr, a strong and virtuous and talented man, chivalrous to a fault. Nay, nothing on earth would please her more than to be the man’s wife and she began to feel some sorrow at the fact that something that gave her such pleasure could never be.
Oh, what a dagger to her foolish heart was that awareness.
Chad could never be hers.
“I have no objections,” she said, feeling depressed even as she said it. “Whatever you feel is best.”
She didn’t seem enthused about it. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I could come up with another excuse, but it would not be nearly as neat.”
“I am sure. You may tell them I am your wife.”
Chad turned to look at her, wondering why she sounded so moody. Was it possible that such a suggestion, even the mere mention of it, was so distasteful to her? His heart sank for reasons he could not begin to understand. Surely she believed him to be a heartless and cruel individual considering the misfortune and discomfort she’d met with since he wrested her from Newington. She certainly couldn’t think otherwise. Chad realized he would have given his right arm to be able to court the woman, to show her a side of him that wasn’t brutal and reasonable and warlike. All he’d ever shown her was hardship. God, he wished he could show her so much more.
But he kept his mouth shut, feeling her morose mood, trying not to feel too badly for the way things had gone for her from the moment of their association. Instead, he focused on ahead, through the miserable little
pimple of a village to the other side where a large manor house was situated.
Even in the dark of night, he could see it outlined against the dusting of stars in the sky. The structure of Bexley Manor was rather tall and oddly shaped, with the bulk of the structure being on the second and third floors, which made it project out from the ground floor below. It was quite lit up, lights in the windows acting like beacons in the darkness, and as Chad and Alessandria drew near, they could see a massive moat encircling the structure and then an enormous wall on the other side of the moat. There was a bridge, which had been removed for the night, and Chad drew his horse to a halt on the banks of the moat and yelled across to the sentries, identifying himself.
At first, the sentries didn’t seem apt to believe he was who he said he was. They yelled back at him, ridiculed him a bit, but Chad seemed to know how to deal with it. Mention of the threat from the House of de Lohr seemed to force the sentries to take him seriously. When Chad also mentioned Evesham and news from someone who had been in the battle, it prompted them to order some men to produce the bridge over the moat. Several men emerged from the protection of the manor, carrying the narrow bridge between them, and they pushed it across the moat until it reached the other side and came to a rest on firm ground.
More men bearing torches came out to greet them as they crossed the skinny bridge. The wood creaked and groaned under the weight of the horses and Alessandria was a bit nervous about it, relieved when the horses finally returned to solid ground on the other side. She directed her horse behind Chad and listened to him as he spoke with a bald-headed man, one of the men who had come from the manor bearing torches.
Evidently, the lady of the house was having some kind of feast and there were other guests inside, crowded into the odd-looking manor house. Chad, however, didn’t care about any other guests. He only cared about himself and Alessandria, and made sure to throw the de Lohr name around a few times before the man he had been speaking with offered to usher him inside. It was the answer Chad had been seeking.
So they followed the men with torches into a large, rounded doorway that Alessandria took to be the entrance, only she was puzzled that the horses were allowed in. She soon saw why; the entry door led to an inner courtyard of sorts and as soon as they entered the spacious courtyard, Chad dismounted his steed and made his way to Alessandria, removing her from the leggy mare. He then took her satchel, his saddlebags and sword, and followed the bald-headed man into an arched entryway, which led directly into a two-storied hall.
The heat and stench of the hall hit both Chad and Alessandria in the face like a slap. The smell of dogs was nearly overwhelming, as was the smell of roasting meat. Smoke lay across the ceiling in a haze from the blazing hearth, filling their nostrils with the acrid scent. It was noisy inside, with musicians in the corner playing and about a dozen people seated at a heavily-laden table.
Food and wine scattered all across the table and the bald man approached an older woman with wild gray hair seated at the end, bending over to whisper in her ear. When he was finished, the woman immediately looked to Chad and Alessandria, practically shoving away the bald man.
“You two!” she cried rather happily. “Come closer! Let me get a good look at a de Lohr!”
The entire table turned to them at that point, looking to Chad and Alessandria, standing several feet away and mostly in the shadows. When the lady with the wild hair waved them over, Chad simply took Alessandria’s hand and obeyed. He gently pulled Alessandria with him, their bags in one big hand and her in the other, until he came to within a few feet of the older woman. He dipped his head at her in greeting.
“My lady,” he said. “I apologize for the intrusion, but I am Sir Chad de Lohr. My father is the Earl of Canterbury and a friend of Lord du Bexley. Is he not at home?”
The woman shook her head, causing her wild gray hair to whip about. Her hair was so curly that it was literally standing on end, frizzy and unkempt. “My husband died last winter of a fever,” she said. “We miss Merlin, God rest his soul, but life must go on, mustn’t it? I am Felicia, Lady du Bexley, and you and your wife are welcome in my home.”
Chad forced a smile. “You are very kind, my lady,” he said. “We have had a rather long journey and are grateful for shelter this night.”
Lady du Bexley waved him to the table. “Please,” she said. “Sit by me. I would hear all about your travels and your family, Sir Chad. My husband spoke often of your father. He was quite fond of him.”
She was shoving the couple immediately to her left down the table, pushing at them to make room for Chad and Alessandria. The couple, a well-dressed man and woman, moved reluctantly, clearing space on the bench. Chad helped Alessandria to sit before taking the space next to her.
“Thank you,” Chad said as servants immediately appeared, placing food and drink in front of them. “My father often spoke of Sir Barnabas as well. I believe your husband knew my grandfather as well.”
Lady du Bexley was zeroed in on Alessandria and Chad as if there weren’t a dozen other guests at her table. Her small eyes were quite intense.
“My husband knew everyone,” she said frankly. “Barnabas was in his eightieth year when he died. He knew Moses himself, I believe.”
She laughed at her joke, bringing a smile from Chad as Alessandria dug into her food. Literally, she plunged her hands into it and shoved meat in her mouth, absolutely starving. Chad couldn’t help but notice that she was eating with an urgent edge and neither could Lady du Bexley. The old woman put her hand out, touching Alessandria on the wrist.
“Slow yourself, Lady de Lohr,” she said, “or you will choke. You will not want to choke because if you die, I fear I will have to match my daughter with your handsome husband. You’ll not want to die if you know a woman is waiting to take your place!”
She meant it as a joke and those who had heard her laughed, including a rather giddy and homely looking young woman across the table. As Alessandria sat in embarrassed silence, the young woman’s silly, high-pitched laughter was above everyone else’s.
“Mama, you are so right,” she said, eyeing Chad. “He is, indeed, a comely boy, is he not? Why did you not have Papa send for the de Lohr sons when you were seeking a husband for me?”
Lady du Bexley and her daughter seemed quite pleased with themselves in a giddy, silly way. Lady du Bexley pointed to the young woman.
“Sir Chad, meet my daughter, Eloise,” she said proudly. “A pity that you did not know her before you married your wife. Oh, I mean no disrespect to your wife, of course, but a fine marriage between the House of de Lohr and the House of du Bexley would have been a grand thing, indeed. Eloise is the heiress to her father’s estate, in fact. She will inherit more land than the House of de Lohr holds, of that I am sure. You do not have any brothers, do you?”
Chad was trying very hard not to be rude. The mere thought of being married to that bug-eyed, frizzy-haired creature horrified him and he could hardly believe that Lady du Bexley had brought about such a personal subject so quickly. Perhaps the woman was rich, but she clearly had the manners of a boor. He took a very long drink of his wine before answering.
“I have two brothers, my lady,” he said, thinking on Stefan and Perrin and realizing he had a prime opportunity to play a very nasty joke on them. Not that his father would ever agree to a marriage with the du Bexley heiress for either of them, but it was great fun to think of the lengths his brothers would go through to avoid the woman if she was on their scent. “Neither of them is married.”
Lady du Bexley was intrigued. “Is that so?” she said, very interested. “Are they as comely as you, my boy?”
Chad shook his head. “Of course not,” he said. “I am the beauty in the family. Just ask my wife.”
Lady du Bexley turned her attention to Alessandria, who was taking a long and satisfying drink of her wine. After the choking rebuke, Alessandria had hoped to stay out of the woman’s conversation but evidently that was not to be.
“Is this true, Lady de Lohr?” Lady du Bexley asked. “Is your husband the only handsome son in the family?”
Alessandria swallowed her drink, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she looked at Chad. “Aye,” she said after a moment. “He is the only handsome son. He is kind beyond measure. Therefore, you may not wish to waste your time with the other two sons. I have the only one worth having.”
Chad grinned at her. God, he’d give anything for her words to actually mean something. As he looked at her, he thought that there was something in her eyes that suggested she did, indeed, mean every word. But there was also something twinkling in the sea-colored eyes that spoke of mirth. Perhaps she was simply playing the game or perhaps she, too, was coming to think that Lady du Bexley was quite bold and without tact. It was quite ridiculous, really, to show such behavior towards people she had just met.
“A pity,” Lady du Bexley said, unaware of the fact that her two newest guests were inwardly laughing at her. “Imagine – my daughter marrying into the House of de Lohr. What a magnificent thing that would be. Nonetheless, I shall write to your father about a betrothal, Sir Chad. If he has two unattached sons, no matter how homely they are, they are still de Lohrs. Either one will make a fine match with my daughter.”
Chad could see that there was no discouraging the woman. Like a dog with a meaty bone, she wasn’t going to let go of the fact that she had a de Lohr in her midst with two eligible brothers. He couldn’t keep the smile off his lips when he thought of Stefan and Perrin hiding from the obnoxious Lady du Bexley and her equally-obnoxious daughter. He hoped he was around to see it.
Someone down the table was telling a joke and Eloise shrilly called to her mother to listen. Lady du Bexley turned her attention from Chad, listening to one of the men tell a joke about the king, in fact. It was something ribald, not even mildly appropriate for women, but Eloise laughed her cackling laugh and Lady du Bexley admonished the man to watch his tongue even though she, too, was laughing.
Fearsome Brides Page 49
