Chad nodded; he already knew that. “I would assume you will not be complying.”
Gallus smiled without humor. “We will not,” he said. “Which puts de Moray, and now the House of de Lohr, in Henry’s sights. You are all close to our family and that will not sit well with Henry.”
Chad looked down the table at de Moray. “It puts de Moray in a worse position than my father,” he said. “De Moray is related by marriage to you.”
“You are related by blood.”
Chad shrugged. “That is true,” he said, “but de Moray is closer still.”
The conversation ebbed as each man pondered the situation. The mood was gloomy but there was also a sense of determination – determination that Henry should not win this battle. Family was thicker than any loyalty to the king and they all knew that. But Gallus felt the need to make something abundantly clear.
“I want you to listen to me and listen carefully,” he said, addressing himself to Chad and Bose. “My refusal to support Henry is not your fight. It is mine. You have both gone out of your way to assist my family in any way you can, including risking your lives, and you will never know how grateful I am. The bonds of love and family run deep. But I will tell you this – my problems with Henry are my own and when it comes down to the choice of supporting Henry or supporting me, and you know it will come down to that, it is my insistence – nay, my plea – that you support Henry. Do not let my battle become your fall. I could not live with myself if that happened and I know that Max and Ty feel the same way. We will stand, or we will fall, but whatever happens must be our fight and ours alone. I could not stomach the House of de Lohr falling because of me or, worse, de Moray losing his life because of our refusal to support the crown. I love you both more than I can say, but I cannot have your deaths on my hands. I am begging you both in this matter.”
Chad looked at Bose, who was gazing steadily at Gallus. “While I appreciate your selflessness in this matter, Gallus, I would be a poor father indeed if I allowed my daughter to stand alone with her husband in this matter,” he said. “Therefore, I will tell you this – if you go to war against Henry, by Henry’s choice no less, it will be my unhappy duty to oppose the man. My daughter’s happiness means more to me than the king does. Having daughters of your own, I am sure you understand my position.”
Gallus sighed heavily. He wasn’t happy with Bose’s response, but he understood. “I do,” he said reluctantly. “But I had to make that statement, Bose. You know I did.”
“I know.”
With that matter settled, everyone’s attention turned to Chad. The man was sitting there, one booted foot upon the table, nursing his second cup of wine. He was being very careful not to imbibe too much, for obvious reasons. When he met Gallus’ gaze, he lifted his eyebrows because he knew Gallus wanted an answer from him. He was defiant.
“What do you want me to say?” he asked. “My opinion is much the same as Bose’s. If Henry forces me to make a choice, then my loyalty is with you and I’m sure my father feels the same way. Besides… I have a stake in all of this.”
Gallus was puzzled. “What stake is that?”
Chad took a long, deep breath, to bolster his courage. He had been pondering how, and when, to approach the subject of marriage to Alessandria and it seemed that this was a good time. They were speaking of relation to the House of de Shera by marriage, after all. Therefore, it was as good a time as any.
“Henry wants to use Lady Alessandria as a hostage,” he finally said. “But I want to marry her, Gallus. That makes me just as involved as any of you in this situation.”
Across the table, Tiberius snorted with giddy laughter at Chad’s declaration while Gallus looked at Chad with a great deal of surprise. “What’s this you say?” he repeated. “You want to marry her?”
“I do.”
“It is not true!”
“It is.”
Shocked, Gallus looked at his brothers for support in this surprising situation. Tiberius was still snorting while Maximus, much less giddy than his younger brother, simply shrugged his shoulders.
“Why so shocked, Gallus?” Maximus asked. “You took a wife. Now Chad wants to take one. Why should that surprise you?”
Gallus still wasn’t over his amazement. “But… but it’s Chad. Chad. Since when does de Lohr speak of marriage?”
“I am over here,” Chad pointed out. “I can hear your conversation quite plainly, Gallus. Please direct your shock at me and I will explain.”
Gallus did. “Tell me, then,” he demanded. “How did this happen?”
Gallus had gone from shocked to edgy quite quickly. Chad tried not to appear too contrite or embarrassed about the fact that he was admitting that he wanted to marry. Surely, only women showed such sappy emotions and silly dreams, but Chad knew he was on the verge of doing just that. There was no holding back now.
“I cannot tell you how it happened, only that it has,” he said quietly. “I… I adore the woman, Gallus, and she adores me. I told her that I would ask your permission to marry her.”
Gallus’ eyebrows lifted. “Great Gods,” he hissed. Then, he shook his head, trying to come to terms with what he’d been told. “You adore her?”
“I do.”
“Are you in love with her?”
Chad shifted uncomfortably. “I have never been in love before so it is difficult to know, but… but I think so.”
“Enough to marry her?”
“More than enough.”
Gallus scratched his head, his shock fading as he realized that Chad was completely serious. He’d known the man for many years and liked him a great deal, so the more he thought on it, the more pleased he became. Was it really possible that the shining star of Canterbury, the man known as Silversword, was finally ready to settle down and marry, with Aurelius’ sister no less?
Certainly, some of this made sense. Chad and Alessandria had been abruptly thrown together and Chad had spent the last several days protecting, clothing, and feeding the woman. He was a virile man and she was a beautiful woman. There was no reason why they should not adore one another.
Find love with one another.
“Does your father know?” Gallus finally asked.
Chad shook his head. “All of this came to light after we left Canterbury, but I am sure he will not have any objections.”
As Gallus digested what he’d been told, a grin came to his lips. “Nor do I,” he said. “Congratulations, Chad. But permission for her hand must really come from her brother. I have no authority to give you my blessing. Aurelius might have other plans for his sister, in fact.”
Chad’s expression tightened. “It does not matter if he does,” he said. “Aless belongs to me and I will have her with or without her brother’s permission.”
This was the Chad that Gallus and the others were much more familiar with – determined, stubborn, and deadly. The man always got what he wanted and woe to the man who denied him. Gallus held up a soothing hand.
“I am sure he will give his consent, but you must seek him and ask,” he said. “With Uncle Julius killed at Evesham, Lady Alessandria is now under her brother’s control. He will have the final say in any marriage contract.”
Chad rolled his eyes. “Aurelius the Idiot,” he muttered. “Oh, I know what men say of him. I heard of his cowardice at Evesham. The moment his father was killed, he withdrew all of his troops and sat on the outskirts as Simon’s forces were trampled on, including you. That is the kind of man who has a say in my happiness?”
Gallus shrugged. “It is a formality,” he said. “At least ask him. At least do your diligence. If he denies you, then marry her anyway. Aurelius will not be able to do anything about it once you are wed.”
“I would rather marry her now and just sent him a wedding announcement.”
“Then if that is the case, why did you even ask me?”
Chad frowned. “Because you are her current benefactor,” he said. “She is under your protection, not her
brother’s, and that makes her your ward. You make decisions for her.”
He was correct for the most part and Gallus considered that. He scratched at his chin, eyeing Maximus and Tiberius, who were clearly on Chad’s side. He pursed his lips wryly at his brothers’ willingness to support Chad over him.
“At least send word to the man, Chad,” Gallus said. “At least ask him. If he denies you, marry her anyway. I suppose I will simply tell Aurelius that I told you to. But I want to hear what he has to say first before you do anything. Is that fair?”
Chad wasn’t happy about it but he nodded his head. “I suppose,” he said. “Will you give me a messenger to send north to The Paladin, then?”
Gallus nodded. “I already have one waiting to depart, in fact,” he said. “The man is to carry news to Aurelius of what is happening at Isenhall. I thought my cousin should know because, sooner or later, Henry will turn on him. He needs to know what is happening.”
Chad had to be satisfied with that. He was frustrated at Gallus’ attitude, frankly, but he had to respect it. But his frustration turned into a lack of self-control.
So much for limiting his wine consumption; Chad poured himself a third cup and drank it straight down before borrowing Gallus’ solar to write a missive to Aurelius regarding his sister’s hand in marriage. He had another cup or two of wine as he wrote because he couldn’t seem to get the words right, asking permission to marry the sister of a man he had no respect for. When he was finished, Gallus took a look at the message but wouldn’t let him send it because it was an emotional mess. Too much wine had made it that way.
When Gallus denied Chad permission to send the missive that night, hoping the morrow would bring a much more evenly written request, Chad’s frustration reached an epic level. The breeches came off and Gallus sat in his solar, trying to avoid looking at the buttocks that were continually flashed at him as Chad punished him for not permitting him to send a missive to Aurelius. The more Gallus tried to reason with him, the more the white buttocks flashed.
Tiberius and Maximus eventually joined them in the solar and much to Gallus’ displeasure, Tiberius, the most liberated and glib of the brothers, joined Chad in flashing his naked arse. It was all great fun until Maximus grew sick of the sight and took the fire poker leaning next to the hearth, swatting Chad across the buttocks so hard that it left a red mark. Then, he lunged for Tiberius, who was wise enough to cover up his arse and run away from his middle brother. But Chad, furious over the spanking, went after Maximus and a full-scale brawl resulted as Gallus stood by and shook his head over the antics. Men who loved each other could be quite foolish sometimes.
Gallus thought on the matter of Chad bearing himself before the world when drunk. He remembered vividly when he, Max and Ty were children and would light their Uncle Quintus’ farts on fire. It was an amusing and childish sport. But now, as a respected man who had matured over the years, he found such behavior unbecoming. Chad’s propensity for dropping his breeches in front of anyone and everyone was quite troubling. So he completely understood Maximus’ frustration and actions.
Later on at the evening meal, Alessandria found herself wondering why Chad had a black eye.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lioncross Abbey Castle
The Welsh Marches
If ever a man looked and acted like his father, it was Curtis de Lohr.
The eldest son of Christopher de Lohr, Curtis was in his sixth decade but one wouldn’t know it by looking at him. He had an agelessness about him. He was a big man, like his father had been. He also had his father’s hair color, blond that had now mostly turned to gray, and had it gathered on his neck in a long ponytail. He also wore the beard his father had always worn but in Curtis’ case, he wore it because his skin had been marred by eruptions in his youth so the beard covered the scars. Many people who had known Christopher de Lohr thought they were seeing a phantom when laying eyes upon his eldest son.
He also had his father’s temperament, fortunately. His mother had been a spitfire but Curtis had his father’s customary cool, which is why he wasn’t cursing like a lunatic at the moment. He had just finished reading a missive from Gallus de Shera. In fact, he’d read it three times. In the message, Gallus told him that Bose de Moray, whom Curtis knew very well, had informed Gallus that Henry required his fealty or very bad things would happen. Henry threatened to send an army to Isenhall and raze it. Curtis knew that Gallus would die before surrendering in any fashion to a king he did not respect, so the news was ominous at best.
It was frightening.
This information, of course, was coupled with news that Curtis’ sons, recently returned from Canterbury, had told him. Chris, Arthur, and William had returned from Canterbury the night before with a wild story of Henry’s Guard of Six against Daniel and his knights. It all had to do with a de Shera cousin, who was a ward of a convent. Henry wanted to take her as a hostage to force the House of de Shera into swearing fealty to him. It was all incredibly complex and growing worse, but one thing was for certain – Henry was determined to seek vengeance against anyone and everyone who had supported de Montfort. Not that Curtis blamed the man, for Henry had been dealing with Simon’s rebellion for many years, but to seek the kind of vengeance that Henry was aiming for bespoke of madness.
Curtis read the missive from Gallus one more time before setting it on the desk once used by his father. It was in the solar of Lioncross Abbey Castle, a castle that was as legendary as it was powerful. A massive place with a separate annex complex for troops, Lioncross was able to hold three thousand men at one time and Curtis, being Warden of the Southern Marches, held nearly that now. Even after Evesham, he still held well over two thousand men in a standing army, making him the biggest military might on the Marches if not in western England.
De Lohr was a name to be feared.
As Curtis leaned on the table, pondering the contents of the missive, he could hear his wife as she spoke to their adult daughter. The woman had lost her husband recently and had brought her children back to Lioncross to stay with her parents because her husband’s home was overrun by his brother’s family. Curtis and his wife, Avrielle, had seven children of their own while Avrielle had three from a previous marriage and Curtis had two from a previous marriage, so Lioncross was, at any given time, full of family. But Curtis didn’t mind; he liked it that way.
As Curtis’ attention turned to the hearth, still pondering Gallus’ request for assistance, he could hear Avrielle close by, scolding one of the grandchildren for bringing a muddy dog into the keep. Or it might have even been a muddy goat; Avrielle was angry about something. When she drew close to the solar door, he called out to her.
“Avie?” he called. “Please come to me.”
He could hear his wife fussing with the grandchild a moment longer before, soon, she was standing in the solar doorway. A still-beautiful woman at her age, with curly chestnut hair piled on her head and eyes of a clear green, she looked rushed.
“What is it, my love?” she asked impatiently. “Edward has gotten into a mess in the kitchen yard.”
“Let his mother clean him up. I need to speak with you a moment.”
“But Stella is not feeling well today,” Avrielle insisted. “Can this wait?”
Curtis shook his head. “Nay,” he said flatly. “Tell Eddie to run back into his mud puddle for the moment. I need to speak with you.”
Frustrated, Avrielle turned to say something to her grandson, who had evidently heard his grandfather and was already running back outside. Avrielle stood in the doorway and pointed to the disappearing child.
“There he goes,” she said, resignation and frustration in her voice. “He will come back covered head to toe in mud, just like his foolish dog.”
Curtis grinned. “Let him be a boy, Mother,” he said. “You have raised eight sons altogether. Why are you so surprised that Eddie wants to be dirty?”
Avrielle waved him off, irritated with his humor as he taunted her. “W
hat is so important, Curt?”
She was coming into the room now, heading for him, and he picked up Gallus’ missive on the table. “I have some serious business to discuss with you,” he said. “Please be seated.”
There was a fine chair nearby, carved oak with a cushion, and she planted her slender body in it. It wasn’t unusual for Curtis to discuss business with her because she was the voice of reason when he needed it. She was, if nothing else, pragmatic, and he relied on that side of her. Sometimes, she was too pragmatic for her own good, but he adored that about her.
“Where are Chris and Arthur and William?” she asked. “I have hardly seen them today.”
Curtis was preoccupied with the missive, looking at it yet again instead of looking at his wife. “They are in the stables overseeing the new stock I received,” he said. “Arthur wants a new steed, as his current horse suffered some injury in battle.”
Avrielle grunted. “I have not seen them for months,” she sniffed. “I would think they would spend today with me. I want to see how they are and hear of their adventures.”
Curtis shook his head. “You do not want to hear of this adventure,” he said quietly. “From what Chris told me, Evesham was a disaster for de Montfort. The man lost his life in a hideous fashion and now Henry, once again in control, is out for vengeance.”
Avrielle knew all about the politics that were sweeping the country. She was astute that way. Much like her husband, she had heard of de Montfort’s defeat at Evesham. News like that traveled fast.
“So he is upon the throne once again,” she said. “I was wondering when you were going to tell me what happened at Evesham.”
Curtis shrugged. “We have heard that Henry was victorious but I wanted to hear it from my sons’ own lips,” he said. “Henry is, indeed, upon the throne again and de Montfort is dead.”
Fearsome Brides Page 55
