The Wolf of Harrow Hall (Tales of the Latter Kingdoms Book 7)
Page 20
This answer made my grandmother nod in some approval. Then she glanced back over at me. “And I suppose you love him.”
“Of course I do,” I said stoutly. “You know me well enough, Grandmother, to know that I am not swayed by wealth.”
“Or a title?” she asked.
“Or a title,” I responded. “I would have married him even if he had been Kerolton’s poorest woodcutter.”
“Fortunately for both of us,” Phelan put in them, “I am no such thing. I am able to give your granddaughter the comforts and ease that she deserves. The same comforts and ease I am now offering to you. It was very noble of Master Willar to offer you shelter here, but just as Harrow Hall is now her ladyship’s home, it shall be your home as well.”
“I am no grand lady, to live in a castle,” my grandmother said. Bold words, I supposed, but since I knew her so well, I could hear the hesitation beneath them. Yes, it would take some time for her to adjust to the alteration in her situation. I understood that, but we all understood as well that her own home had been destroyed, and she could not stay with the Willar family indefinitely. At any rate, she was my family, and she needed to be with me and Phelan.
“I did not think I was, either,” I said. “But I have lately conceded that there is much to be said for such a life. So come with us, Grandmother.”
“Would you not wish to be there to watch your great-grandchildren grow up?” Phelan inquired.
My grandmother shot a quick glance at my waistline, although even if I were with child — which I knew I was not — I would not be showing any evidence of such a condition. Then she let out a small breath. “You are a clever one, Lord Greymount, to know exactly how to persuade an old woman. Very well. I will come with you. No doubt the Willars will be glad enough to have me out from underfoot.”
This comment provoked a half-hearted protest from Mistress Willar, one which my grandmother pointedly ignored. It could not have been easy to have a houseguest for such an extended period of time under such trying conditions.
“I will gather my things,” my grandmother said. “They aren’t many, so it shan’t take me very long. But I will also have to chase down Malkin,” she added, then left the room, clearly headed to the wing of the house that contained the bedchambers.
“Malkin?” Phelan inquired with a lift of the eyebrow.
“Her cat,” I explained.
“Ah.” His lips quirked. “We shall have to see what Linsi and Doxen make of that.”
“As they are very well-behaved dogs, I am sure they will be just fine.”
Phelan smiled, even as he shook his head. But, since he seemed to note how the Willar family was staring at the two of us, he filled the awkward silence by saying in that easy manner of his,
“Please know, Master Willar, that if there were any costs incurred by housing Mistress Sendris — and Malkin — here for so many days, I would be happy to compensate you for them.”
“N-no, of course not,” Amery Willar replied at once. A flash of irritation passed over his daughter Vianna’s face, while his wife only appeared resigned, as if she had known that her husband would never accept such an offer, even if doing so could only benefit his family.
“You are certain?”
“Very certain,” Amery said. “We were honored to shelter Mistress Sendris here.”
In that moment, my grandmother returned. In one hand she held a small battered leather satchel, one I knew she had brought with her to the forest of Sarisfell many, many years ago when she came here to be my grandfather’s wife. In the other was a large wicker cage, from which emerged a low growl. Malkin had never much enjoyed being transported in such a manner.
“I will warn you,” she said. “I am not a very good horsewoman.”
“No matter,” Phelan replied. “Neither is your granddaughter, and so we shall set an easy pace.”
At that response, she chuckled, and I could feel myself begin to relax. My grandmother was not one for easy laughter, and if you were lucky enough to amuse her, it meant she thought well of you.
“But because of that pace,” my husband went on, “we should go now, so we have plenty of daylight to guide us home.”
“Sensible of you.”
Then she turned and thanked Amery and his wife for their hospitality, added a few words to the girls in praise of their improved spinning — leaving Vianna out of that compliment, I noticed — and headed out to the entryway. Phelan and I followed. His mouth was pursed with amusement, and I guessed that he was rather looking forward to having someone under his roof who was not particularly impressed by him.
But once we were outside, he appeared sober and respectful enough, relieving my grandmother of her burdens and handing them off to our escort, then guiding her into the saddle of the horse we had brought for her before he did the same thing for me. The men-at-arms also mounted, and in no time we were headed out of Kerolton and into the forest.
Phelan and I rode just far enough ahead of our companions that we were able to exchange a few words in relative privacy. “You did not mention what a singular person your grandmother was,” my husband remarked.
“I thought it best for you to find out on your own.”
His teeth flashed in the sunlight as he grinned. “I suppose I can see the wisdom in that.” Then a wicked gleam entered his eyes, and I shot him a look of mock alarm.
“My husband, what is it you are planning?”
“You shall see.”
I lifted an eyebrow.
Appearing to relent, he said, “I was just thinking that since I have found wedded bliss, perhaps it is time for Master Merryk to discover those same joys. I think he must be of an age with your grandmother.”
“And I think you must have taken leave of your senses. They would never suit. It would be the irresistible force and the immovable object!”
“Perhaps.” A sly grin touched his mouth. “But it will be highly amusing to watch, don’t you think?”
“‘Amusing’ is one word for it, Phelan Greymount. I would think you would want some peace in your household, after all that you have been through.”
The smile faded, and his expression grew deadly serious. “I have never been much of one for peace. Happiness, on the other hand….” The words trailed away, and he sent me a piercing look, one which awoke a familiar heat in the pit of my belly. “You have made me happy, Bettany. Is it foolish to want those around me to be happy as well?”
“Not at all,” I replied. “It is wonderful. You are wonderful.”
He sidled his horse up next to mine, and before I knew precisely what was happening, he had plucked me out of his saddle and deposited me before him. Vaguely I could hear my grandmother gasp, but I paid her reaction little mind. How could I, with Phelan’s arms around me and his voice a fierce growl in my ear as he said, “Promise me it will always be like this.”
“It will,” I said. “Or even better. Always.”
He kissed me then, kissed me in the brilliant sunshine with its promise of brighter days. And I did not care who watched, because I understood more than ever that he was the only one who could make my heart sing like this, could make the blood rush in my veins and warm me all over.
Phelan Greymount kissed me, and I was happy.
The End
* * *
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About the Author
Christine Pope has been writing stories ever since she commandeered her family’s Smith-Corona typewriter back in the sixth grade. Her work includes paranormal romance, fantasy romance, and science fiction/space opera romance. The Land of Enchantment cast its spell on her while she was researching the Djinn Wars series, and she now makes her home in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
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