by Sherry Ewing
Chapter 20
Fletcher stared at his father, who was peacefully sleeping in his chair by the fire. Thankful he had arrived in time, he was equally confused as to why he had been summoned with such urgency to Lancashire, as if his sire was on his deathbed. He may be ill, but the man was far from putting his body into a grave come the morn.
After sitting far too long, Fletcher stood and stretched his muscles. Picking up a chalice of wine, he took a sip and wondered, not for the first time, what Jenna was doing at this very moment. Although they had not spent a lot of time with one another, he already missed her company, and he would like nothing better than to harness his horse and ride back to Berwyck as fast as Fury might carry him.
Not that he could leave, as yet. His mind went over how he had first felt espying his childhood home after being gone for many a year. ’Twas a bittersweet reminder of days no longer filled with trying to impress his father that he would someday be worthy enough to pass down his title. Fletcher had attempted on many occasions to prove his skill, whether it be with the blade or with his studies, and yet, his father had always scowled at him, as though he was not putting forth every effort to better himself.
Perchance, the fault lay with them both. They each were too similar to the other with stubborn pride ruling their heads when the need arose to make difficult decisions. How many times over the years had their tempers flared over the slightest matter? ’Twas with a reluctant heart, Fletcher had finally thrown up his hands and left his home to join Dristan and his growing personal guard. If he was going to have a reputation as being unyielding, he might as well claim one whilst being in league with the Devil’s Dragon.
There certainly had not been many skirmishes for which the king had need of Dristan’s forces in aiding England of late, and, mayhap, this was another reason Fletcher had been ill at ease and restless. Perchance, Jenna’s appearance on the beach was just what he stood in need of to find some stability in his life and to at last call some place home. He had the distinct premonition this was the true reason he had been called back to his place of birth. Was his father ready to turn over the estate? He supposed, he would find out his answers soon enough.
Fletcher’s pacing was interrupted when he bumped his knee against a table. Muffling a curse, he resumed his place near the fire and contemplated the lady of his recent musings. He would marry her as soon as he returned to Berwyck, leaving no doubt in her mind she belonged to him. He hardly knew her, yet most marriages had begun with far less than what they had already shared. Besides, Time had given her to him. He would not let the opportunity present itself for her to be taken away, nor for her to change her mind that she would come to care for him in the years to come.
He leaned back in his chair only to see his father was watching him most intently. They were as different as night was to day. Whereas Fletcher had the dark hair and eyes the color of his mother, his sire had pale blue eyes and once had flowing blonde hair that had now turned white with age. In his youth, Fletcher had likened his sire to a Viking God, for he could do no wrong in the eyes of a child. ’Twas hard to see what they would now have in common, or how they might fall into some kind of familiar accord.
“You are deep in your thoughts, son. Come, confide in me what worries you so─” His words were cut off as he turned his head to cough.
Fletcher reached out for the dipper that hung near the hearth. Stirring the broth inside the pot kept warm by the fire, he made sure the concoction was mixed thoroughly afore ladling some into a cup. “Sip on this slowly, Father, but be careful. ’Tis hot, but I am told ’twill help lessen the cough that seems to keep you up most nights.”
Barric gasped for air ’til his coughing subsided. Reaching for the goblet, he took a sip and relaxed back in his chair. “I see the servants have spent more than enough time filling you in on the happenings here.”
“Do not take them to task for it,” Fletcher answered truthfully. “They were only concerned for your welfare.”
“’Twas not necessary to summon you,” Barric growled. “As you can see for yourself, I yet live.”
“’Tis a sad state of affairs when a father cannot summon his own son to return home in order to ensure his wellbeing. I would have come with all due swiftness had you thought to do so.”
“I was unsure if you would answer my missive, if I had sent it.” Barric took another sip from the cup. “We tend to argue whenever we are under the same roof together.”
“Our disagreements do not mean I do not care for you. You are still my father, and with Mother gone, I am sure she must be displeased, looking down from heaven at the discord that has separated us for so long.”
Barric shrugged. “You have been busy making a name for yourself. I have heard you were appointed captain of Dristan’s guard. Is he well?”
“News travels far, it seems, and, aye, Dristan is well and happily settled with a wife and children. But we digress from the real issue of your health. I had thought Mary would be here to look after you. Where is she?” Fletcher asked, curious about his younger sister he had not yet seen about the castle.
Another spasm of coughs racked Barric’s body afore he could continue. “France,” he finally replied. “She has been gone for a fortnight on holiday with friends. I would not be surprised to see her come traipsing in here unannounced in the same manner you have done, just to see if I have met an early demise.”
Fletcher chuckled. “Mary would no more wish such a fate on you, Father, than would I. You have many years ahead of you, but I am glad I am here to give aid where I may.”
Barric set the cup aside. His fingers brought together in a steeple rested against his mouth. “You never answered my earlier question about what you were thinking. Was it a woman?”
Fletcher took his attention from the flames he had been staring at. “Apparently, I am not good at hiding my musings. Although, I must admit, I thought you were slumbering.”
His father smiled. “Who is she?”
He should not have been surprised his father assumed he was thinking of a lady. “Her name is Jenna, and she is different than any other woman I have ever met.”
“She must be someone indeed, since there are many fair damsels who would vie for a match between estates. You will bring considerable wealth to such a union.”
“I have enough monies of my own, Father. I do not care for her because of what coinage she may bring to the marriage.”
“She is not titled?” Barric asked in surprise.
“Nay, she is not, but she is a lady all the same. Jenna is from far abroad, but I cannot as yet tell you all of her origins. I am still coming to terms with them myself,” Fletcher stated as he stood.
“You know you have obligations here at Lancashire and are expected to take over for me when I am gone, or afore if my health no longer permits me. I do not need to tell you, the crown will expect compensation if this Jenna of yours does not bring lands to your union.”
“I know what is required of me, and I have more than enough to pay the king for any lack of protocol or offense he may feel I have given him. I can always take my lady to France if need be. I have an estate of my own on distant shores where I would be welcomed.”
Barric reached out a hand, and the two men grabbed forearms. “You are welcomed here, my son. Bring your lady to Lancashire and make your home on English soil.”
“I should like that, Father.” Fletcher refilled the cup and handed it to the older man. “I should take my leave of you and let you rest.”
“I have rested long enough without the company of my children around me,” Barric argued.
“There is plenty of time for us to catch up on all that has transpired with each other’s absence. I have no plans to leave ’til I have been assured you are on the mend.”
“Just so long as you return. ’Tis time this family is brought back together. With a wife at your side, ’tis even further proof you take your rightful place as my heir.”
Fletcher was about
to give his father the reassurance of which he stood in need when a discrete knock came upon the door. Without waiting for the caller to enter, the portal was pushed wide. A high pitched squeal of delight echoed in the room when his sister all but flew into his arms.
“Fletcher!” Mary called out in pleasure. “I cannot believe you are at last home, my own dear, sweet brother.”
He gathered the young woman in his arms and hugged her tightly whilst choking back tears of happiness at their reunion. “Mary,” he declared as he held her at arm’s length. “My word, you have grown into a beauty whilst I have been gone. Where has the little imp gone, whose curls I used to pull?”
Mary laughed happily. “Oh, I suppose she is still hiding there somewhere, but Father insists I act the lady. He tells me, he will not suffer me to remain a spinster evermore.”
A choke erupted from Barric. “As if any of the men have been worthy enough for her. I seem to turn away a constant stream of ne’er-do-well and penniless knaves who only want the dowry she brings. Mayhap, you will have better luck ensuring she is soon wed,” Barric guffawed. “Surely, you must know of a worthy gentleman or two who might pass as a husband of virtue for her.”
Laughter erupted in the room. “As you have just proclaimed, I am not sure if any man would ever be good enough for my sister,” Fletcher insisted.
“What about one of those handsome guardsmen you ride with? I have heard the tales that spin about them all the way to France,” Mary asked, her eyes becoming dreamy in some fanciful romantic notion Fletcher did not want to see upon his sister’s face.
Barric leaned forward, wagging his finger at Mary. “You shall not fall for one of Dristan’s men. ’Tis bad enough your brother became one of them.”
Mary came and put her arm around Fletcher’s waist. “Just do not try to saddle me with someone old enough to be my grandfather. I want to be able to fall in love with the man I marry.”
Barric fell into another burst of coughing. The two siblings each took an arm and led him back to his bed. “’Tis good to have you both here under the same roof,” his father said with a slight smile on his aging face. He reached out his hand and grabbed hold of Fletchers arm. “You belong here, son. I have the feeling you will be leaving quicker than you had planned. Do not take long in returning with your bride.”
“I will return as quickly as possible, Father. I promise,” Fletcher reassured him.
“You are wed?” Mary asked quietly as their father’s eyes closed in sleep.
Fletcher leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Not as yet, but soon. Will you stay with him? I hate the thought of leaving him alone, and yet, I must needs see to the estate. Since Father has taken ill, there is much that needs attending.”
“Of course, I will stay with him. I am annoyed he had not sent for me sooner. We can have speech later,” Mary replied and sat on the stool by the bedside.
Fletcher kissed her raised cheek. ’Twas so very good to see his beloved sister, and he looked forward to spending time with her to get reacquainted. With thoughts of all that must be done afore he might leave to retrieve Jenna, he strode out of the chamber with a purpose. But he was concerned with some unknown feeling when something began to nag at him. ’Twas as if a small voice were telling him he must needs hurry and get himself back to Berwyck with all due speed afore he was too late.
Chapter 21
At the sound of a knock on the solar door, Fletcher looked up from the parchment he had been perusing. “Enter,” he bade and then turned towards his father’s steward, who was awaiting instruction from his lord’s son. “See to it the man is given ample compensation for his loss. That is all for now.”
“Problems?” Mary inquired, watching the steward depart as she came into the room. She took a seat by the hearth.
“One of the villagers lost his hand,” Fletcher answered and then joined her. “He may have been caught stealing by another, but he will have a hard go at adjusting his new altered life.”
“And yet, you still gave him monies? That was generous of you, brother.”
“It just makes sense. Hopefully, the man learned his lesson, but he can still be valuable and earn his keep. He does have a family for whom he must needs see to their care.”
Fletcher watched his sister for a moment whilst she brought her hands towards the fire to warm them. She had always been lovely with her blonde hair and blue eyes much like their sire. For a brother and sister, there was nothing that would show the outside world they were indeed related. Their looks were as different as night was to day, and perchance, that was how he had always thought of them. Fletcher was the night whereas his sister was the day, bringing sunshine into the lives of any she met. She was too kindhearted for her own good, and Fletcher feared she would never find a man who would love her for herself and not the wealth a union with her would bring.
“You watch me most intently, Fletcher. Whatever is the matter?” she asked sweetly, leaning back in her chair.
“Pondering life, perchance, and my very beautiful sister, of course. How is it you are not wed, Mary? You should have a keep of your own with children wreaking havoc upon your life by now.”
The lovely sound of her laughter filled the air. “I could say the same of you, dearest brother. But as for myself, I have not found a man who could not see past the bit of coin that would fill his coffers. Surely, I am worth more than to be wed to a man with little foresight other than whatever wealth I will bring to his estate. The man I would wed should see I would be a fit companion and wife to his future children.”
Her words only reaffirmed Fletcher’s thoughts but moments afore. “Many marriages are arranged for nothing but advancement, whether that be monies or position at court. You know this is the way of things, Mary.”
“Just because the situation is how things are usually arranged, does not mean ’tis right,” she fumed with a furrowed brow. “Do you not want me to find love, Fletcher?”
“Of course, I do, Mary. But if you wait much longer to find this paragon of a knight, Father may just take matters into his own hands. He is impatient for you to wed.”
“What about you? Do you have some fair maiden who has stolen your heart and with whom you wish to wed?
“Some people say I have no heart,” he teased.
“Bah! What nonsense. Just because you have been serving with the Devil’s Dragon of Berwyck, does not mean you have such a fierce reputation as he does.”
“I must be losing my appeal if people do not fear me whenever they are in my presence. However do you suppose I will keep the garrison knights in line if they do not feel a small measure of terror and dread about me?” He smiled in merriment.
“You but jest with your sister and are doing your best by attempting to avoid my question. I do not wish for you to spend the rest of your life alone, Fletcher. Everyone needs someone in their lives to love.”
A whisper of a memory flashed afore Fletcher’s mind whilst his sister’s words echoed Katherine’s. Just as quickly, the thought vanished, only to be replaced with an image of Jenna’s tearful eyes when he had told her to wait for him. His heart began beating rapidly as he remembered their first kiss. He smiled with a longing he never thought to ever feel again.
“Fletcher…”
He looked up from his musings. “Aye?”
His sister laughed brightly again. “I do not know who she is, but if a woman can put such a look on my brother’s face, I approve of her completely.”
Embarrassed his sister could read him so readily, he scowled at her. “I know not of what you speak.”
“Oh, aye, you do,” Mary replied with a sweet smile. “I can only hope one day I, too, shall meet a man who will cause me to have such an expression. You are in love, Fletcher. Whoever this woman is, I would not waste another day but make swift to wed with her.”
“’Tis complicated,” Fletcher mumbled, brushing his hand across his eyes.
“Love always is.”
“’Tis more than just m
e having feelings for her. She is different than any other woman I have met or shall meet again. If she were to stay here, she would be giving up more than you can even imagine. I am not sure I could ask such of her.”
Mary reached over and patted his hand. “Of course you can. If she loves you, none of that will matter, only that you are together.”
“But what could I possibly give her that would make up for her loss of all she has known in her life?”
His sister stood and brushed a kiss upon his cheek. “She would have you. Honestly, I do not know what any woman would want more than to have someone like my dear brother to love. You underestimate yourself if you do not know how much you can give to a lady to whom you finally give your heart. You should follow it. Your heart will always tell you what is right in your life, as long as you listen to its promptings.”
Fletcher’s eyes widened at her words, once again, as another memory of Katherine’s own counsel for him echoed in his mind. “When did my little sister become so wise?”
“It must come with age,” she giggled. “Now, I will leave you to your work. I am sure Father has much he wishes you to oversee with the land.”
Mary excused herself whilst Fletcher continued to stare into the flames of the fire. He was not sure why he was hesitating in returning to Jenna’s side. The urge to saddle his horse and swiftly journey back to Berwyck had never been stronger. Mayhap, ’twas time he should listen to his heart instead of his thoughts warring inside his head.
Chapter 22
Jenna’s head jerked upright. Holding a quill, her hand hovered in the air as the ink dripped onto the parchment. She listened intently, and yet she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what had momentarily grabbed her attention. Moving the quill to resume her letter to Fletcher, she became cross with herself, seeing the mess she had made. She would need to start over…again.
