Robyn Carr Restoration Box Set

by Robyn Carr

  Trent laughed good-naturedly. “Worry not, Reverend. We’ve waited this long. I think we have a few moments to spare.”

  But the little man shook his head in disapproval. “I don’t recommend it, my lord. Until I say the final word, your lady stands in dire reputation.” He looked to the ceiling. “Lord, give us but a few moments, I pray.” Then back to Trent. “I beseech your consideration, milord. Do not excite the maid further.”

  “Very well, sir. Let’s be about business.”

  A space within the crowd was cleared, and Jocelyn and Trent stood before the pastor. Avery, Enid, and all the others stood witness. The harried reverend began to sweat in his enthusiasm to be finished and he wasted no words in completing the service. The poor man’s relief was greater perhaps than the happy couple’s when the vows were said and he presented them to the crowd as husband and wife.

  They endured many toasts and cheers, a feast grand and plentiful enough for a royal entourage, and the joy and good cheer that filled the hall were at least as splendid as at any coronation. As the day wore on past sunset, a slightly drunk preacher turned to the new mistress of Braeswood and gave his estimation of the crowd’s reaction. “I think, that is, thersh evidensh—” He broke off his sentence for a vocal lurch that might have been a misdirected hiccough. “Milady,” he continued, “you will be welcome here. They seem to approve.”

  Jocelyn laughed and patted the man’s hand, then looked at her husband with love glowing in her eyes. “I think perhaps they do accept me,” she whispered.

  “The very reason I was forced to wed you, love,” Trent said. “Not a person alive, man or woman, has been able to endure knowing you and remain unsmitten. While you feared the day I would put you aside for a noble wife, I worried that a king or sultan would offer you more than I could. Now I will keep you a prisoner and no other will ever be near enough to tempt you.”

  “I’m sorry, milord. That’s not possible.” He frowned a question and she smiled securely. “You cannot make a prisoner of one who adores her shackles. You cannot jail one who adores her cell. You need spend no energy on keeping your bolt thrown against my leaving. The more fiercely you hold me, the more easily I will be held. I love you, my lord of Braeswood. And you will find my love is true and stronger than your shackles or locks.”

  SIXTEEN

  You would have me marry whom?’’ Wescott boomed, causing the lord of Dearborn to jump in fear and the king to smirk unkindly at them both. “You’ve gone mad. I thought you were a fool, I knew you to be ambitious, but what in hell do you mean by this?”

  Charles could not suppress a chuckle. While trouble among his lords was a distasteful burden at most times, this unlikely duet was nearly as entertaining as the common quarrels among the waiting women. Each hungered for the other’s blood, and yet here was the conference in which Julian professed to put the feud aside. It was as preposterous as a York marrying a Lancaster in the midst of the War of the Roses, which was precisely why Charles allowed it to take place.

  “Your Majesty, you knew of Lord Kerr’s incredible suggestion?” Trent asked.

  The king nodded and tried to keep his expression neutral, but a twinkle betrayed him.

  “My lord,” Julian attempted. “I urge you to consider that your rage is misplaced this once. I know full well the anger and hatred you feel for me, but Adrienne is distant blood and was born of Royalist parents after our hostilities began with Worcester. It is the matter of her happiness and some restitution to your family that I make this offer. When she declared her love for you, I saw in this a chance to bury a wearisome problem.”

  “I most recently attended a burial, my lord,” Trent fairly growled. “I had my family restored to their rightful—”

  “Lord Wescott,” the king interrupted. Trent stopped midsentence and looked at his king. Charles ruled with a certain dark look that could still an army faster than a thousand blades. It was his fashion of shifting his eyes from gay to serious that indicated he meant to have control. “Tread very carefully on that old ground. We have agreed that we shall move forward now, and not backward. If I can do this, and my losses in war were far greater than yours, you can find a way to do likewise.”

  Trent took a second to still his flaring temper but could not entirely forget all that Julian Kerr had caused him in the way of misery and loss. “What the hell do you hope to gain from this?” he asked Kerr.

  “A safe marriage for my niece and proper management for my lands,” he said simply.

  “And you intend to remove your son from Dearborn and find yourself another residence?” Trent asked.

  “My son will be given an equal but different inheritance and I will reside where you will it. If Braeswood is to be your home and you desire an overseer at Dearborn, I happily aid you.”

  “Ha! I would rue the day I let you manage my property,” Wescott boomed.

  Charles leaned forward as slowly as he could and hoped Wescott would not rob him of any enjoyment he got out of the scene. “I grow impatient,” Charles said evenly. “I regret having to inform you again, Lord Kerr is in title freely. It will not be rebuked by me unless I find him guilty of some treason or other serious crime. How he divides his property is his concern, not ours. And if he chooses to leave this to his niece, upon his death it shall belong to her and her husband.” He leaned back in his chair. “Proceed, my lords. With greater caution.”

  “I am at your disposal,” Julian said, quivering slightly in the presence of Wescott’s powerful anger.

  “Let us assume I married the wench. And let us assume that you and your son continue to reside on Dearborn lands. Do I then have enemies on my border and one in my own house?”

  “I am prepared to refuse giving Dearborn to Stephen. The reasons are personal and I will not speak of them.”

  “Aha,” Trent said. “Will these personal reasons see him bludgeoning my door for yet further restitution for his loss of inheritance? Whether or not you will admit this, he is building an army on your land—an army designed to wage battle on our common line of property.”

  “One of the reasons I shall remove him,” Julian said slowly, as calmly as he could. “I have given my word to attempt peace in that sector, and that word must include my son’s intention.”

  “And if he will not be removed?” Trent asked.

  “Then I shall petition His Majesty with my will and my title as insurance that Adrienne receives her dowry.”

  “Now see here, my lord,” Charles interjected. “If this arrangement provides cause for more trouble, then I think I’ve made a mistake in yielding my chambers to your conference. I have better use for my army than to battle over Dearborn.”

  “It is my hope that Stephen will deem it unwise to balk at my wishes, the strength of a legal transfer of property, and the new baron’s right to assume title. I must honestly admit that if he is fool enough to wage war against the law of the land and his neighbor, then he would be that kind of fool under any circumstances. I don’t think it in my power to make that determination for Stephen, but it is in my power to disinherit him from Dearborn. My lord?”

  Trent sat back in his chair with a scowl on his face. He scratched his chin in thought. He had hated leaving Braeswood this time more than any other and fully expected to be faced with some treachery concocted by Kerr that was designed to discredit or incriminate him. He had prepared himself to do a battle of words to clear himself of any accusation...but never expected an offer as bizarre as this.

  “There is a treacherous plot in here somewhere,” he said. “I fail to see how you profit, my lord. And I have never known you to act without an eye for profit.”

  Julian sighed. He was quickly becoming exhausted. He knew he wasn’t strong or well, and the longer he faced Wescott’s resistance, the more he feared his life would be cut short.

  “I don’t deserve your trust,” Julian attempted. “Nor do I ask for it. I am prepared to show you the accounts from the estate and even change residence if you cannot abi
de my further management. But however you accuse me, I have managed the land well and we have prospered. You cannot do poorly with it, it only increases your wealth.”

  “What do you want?” Trent asked again.

  “A decent husband for my niece and a strong manager for my property,” Julian boomed, quite losing control with his failure to reach Wescott.

  “Your niece,” Wescott laughed. “That little tart who postures before any knave in breeches and connives her way to the nearest title and fat purse? What makes you think I’d have her?”

  “My land makes me think it,” Julian argued. “And you did not find her so objectionable when you lay with her.”

  Trent’s head shot up in surprise. He was caught completely unaware by the accusation. “When...I...?”

  “When you allowed her to sneak into your home in the dark of night and you took advantage of her naive, girlish wishes. A gentleman would have counseled the lass and sent her away, or even come to me honestly, that I could have disciplined her and seen her more carefully chaperoned. But I make your crime an easy one and not only offer to give you the rest of the parcel from which you stole, but add to the booty with yet more.”

  Trent was aghast. He had not foreseen the lengths to which Kerr would go to lock him into an arrangement like this. He wondered in absolute shock how Julian Kerr expected to place his niece in Braeswood as the lady of the manor and somehow ease him out of his own home in order to claim the totality of the combined properties. He chuckled in confused discomfort. Lay with her? Did Julian hope to find an accomplice in Adrienne, who perhaps in the dark of night would slit his throat?

  “Not only have I not bedded the lass, I have never been alone in the same room with her. She has never entered my home, nor have I bidden her meet me abroad for some affair. She has made a fool of you, my lord. She lied.”

  “You deny her, then. Well, she told me you would. Her visits, she claimed, were secret even from your servants and you received her only late at night. I inquired of her presence at your house and your staff would not be questioned, but my driver deferred to my authority and stated that Adrienne did bribe him to drive her on occasion, and other times he saw the hired coach take her away.”

  “It will not work, Julian,” Trent said rather easily. “If you ask the lass to describe the furnishings of my house, she will not be able to do it. If you bid the driver take you to the place he delivered her, it will be the house of another. If there was indeed a gentleman who defiled her, you must wresde her marriage to another rogue. I have had nothing to do with Adrienne.”

  “But she can’t have lied,” he blustered with great emotion. “I would not even have known of the circumstances had I not found her most ill of a broken heart. She would not easily yield your name, but wept on her poor judgment that she was loved.”

  Julian had half-risen from his chair in excitement and now attempted to calm himself. “The troublesome sprite has shared my house for a few years, and I am more aware of her trickery and conspiracies than anyone. But the lass who wept with her broken heart was not plotting or pretending. She mourned out of deep love for the culprit whose name she would not speak. She feared my anger and worried that I would find him unworthy. She could not have known that I’ve desired one chance to finally bury this weary battle we endure. And she could only assume I hated you from the many unsavory things I’ve said of you within my household.”

  “Then you admit to maligning me?” Trent asked with amusement.

  “Aye,” he shot back, more than a little unnerved by Wescott’s calm and wondering where this meeting was going. “Aye, I admit to being angry with your abuse and hatred and more than stressed by your return to England. You made no secret of wanting my head on a stake, Wescott. But it occurs to me that even the short time I have left in this world will be better spent if not at odds with you; and I love Dearborn too deeply to see it plundered and damaged any further.”

  “Then you think I have a hand—” Trent began.

  “I think,” the baron shouted, “that if you own it, you will keep it safe at any cost.”

  Those in the room sat still and silent, partly in surprise at the force of the baron’s voice, partly subdued by the indisputable truth to the remark. Julian had finally reached sympathetic ears. Both Charles and Trent knew that Julian prized that property above his own dignity and indeed above his life. He valued it more highly than his son and thought more of its endurance than of his own eternity.

  What this proposition entailed became clearer. Adrienne was using Julian to secure an inheritance she deserved, and Julian was using her to secure the future of the land. No bride could do as much for Stephen as a good husband could for Adrienne. And the pitiful old man had finally seen that his life’s work would be laid to waste if Stephen carried on lordship there.

  “There is a major flaw,” Trent said slowly. “I have come in the course of this discussion to put aside the fear that you plan my early death through the fair Adrienne’s quick hand. The fact remains, however, that the girl has been involved with a man who is yet unknown. Had I used her, I might more likely throw it in your face as an insult and still refuse her hand. I gain nothing in a lie, but the young heiress gains much in her abuse of the truth. I suggest you consult every actor and peddler she has met and—”

  “Her schemes have carried her into dangerous ground in the past, my lord,” Julian stated very calmly. “But there is one thing even you should understand; Adrienne is not even lightly attracted to unhandsome or poor men. If you are not the man, he is your equal.”

  In a sudden flash of comprehension, Trent slumped and let out a slow whistle. Again the baron touched him with a simple truth, and putting that with a few other facts that could not be denied, Trent drew some conclusions that shook him instantly. “Holy Jesus,” he muttered.

  “My lord?” Charles questioned.

  Trent virtually ignored the king and spoke easily and with a hint of humor to Julian. “Very well, I will consider your offer, my lord. Allow me to have a message delivered to you before the week is out. And...my answer will be final.”

  Julian was elated at his words. He had not hoped to come this far, and he had expected the discussion to go further out of control and touch on the questions surrounding the capture of the Wescotts during the war. That Wescott abandoned the issue with only a little urging from the king was the first surprise. That he would give the matter consideration rather than refusing ever to ally with the Kerrs under any circumstances was almost too good to be true.

  Julian stood, sighing with relief as he did so. He extended his hand toward Wescott. “I’m honored that you consider us, my lord. I promise my good faith and compromise.”

  Wescott eyed the man warily. Many things in his life were much improved since he’d come home, but it still rested on the tip of his tongue to answer Kerr’s every remark with an angry retort. He could not bury the temptation to ask if that same promise had been made to his brothers and father. But sensing his king’s close scrutiny, he slowly rose and accepted the man’s hand.

  Julian bowed to the king. “Your Majesty, my thanks.”

  Charles nodded and the man quickly departed. Julian could barely take another moment in the room with these two large, young, and powerful men. The moment Julian was gone, Charles turned to Wescott. “Stay a moment, my lord, and talk with me. You will truly consider Julian’s offer?”

  Trent sat wearily. How to answer Charles on this? Yet it had to be done, and the sooner the better. “I will strongly consider what it is Julian wishes to do with his estate. You must know the effects on my border and, indeed, on my own home. I’ve no desire to see another landowner the likes of the Kerrs reside there, and there is no question in my mind but that young Stephen will be hell bent to stop this. This much is true: Julian prizes that land, and even he would humble himself to a truce if it meant that he would be assured of its safe future upon his death.

  “But I will not marry Adrienne. It is impossible.”


  “Ah, you are still plagued by all of that. I would not be terribly offended by the offer, my lord. I’ve seen the maid and made her acquaintance.”

  “Under the best of circumstances, I’m certain I would find it difficult to answer her plea for marriage and her rich dowry with any affection or trust. She would ultimately emerge an abused and unhappy wife—even in possession of her fair Dearborn. But that is not my reason.

  “Five days before answering your call to conference, I was married in my own home.”

  “Ah, so you were.” Charles smiled. “And who is this?”

  “Not a name you would recognize, Your Majesty. Before taking her place as my wife, she was the daughter of a yeoman farmer in a village near Braeswood. She is common by birth.”

  “I see,” the king said rather unhappily. “Well, I suppose those of you with secure little houses can afford to trifle. Odd’s fish, I must marry for an entire country. I doubt not they’ll be displeased with any choice I happen to make.” He sighed heavily. “You risked a great fortune in marrying so.”

  “With respect, Sire, I feel I’m the richer. And I would wager that if you had seen her first, you would have risked the wrath of all England to have her.”

  Charles laughed heartily at that. “Then keep her far away from me, my lord. It is well known I have no moral character whatsoever. And tell me, Wescott—I won’t try to influence you in any way—but have you behaved dishonorably with the lady Adrienne?”

  “No, Sire. But have you any clues as to the identity of the rogue who so brutally trampled on her heart?” The king simply shook his head, listening intently and gaining his usual excitement from a good intrigue. “I know of a man who by my request has been watching the Kerr household with shrewd eyes. I don’t know if I would call myself equal to him; there have been occasions too numerous to mention when I looked to him for money or power or advice. But this man plays the ladies dangerously, and I’ve never met one who escaped him unscathed. He is indeed a rogue and Julian would certainly disfavor that alliance.”