by Lynn Lorenz
Will turned and a smile lit his face. “Lady Ellen! It’s good to see you. You’re looking very well.”
Jackson watched as a beautiful woman, great with child, greeted Will with open arms. For a moment, his heart lurched. Wallace stepped to her, extended his arm and her hand lighted upon it as if she were a beautiful bird.
“My wife, Lady Ellen, the Marchioness of Holcombe,” Wallace said. “This is Jackson. He brings Will back to us.”
“My thanks, Jackson. Without Will, I’m not sure what we’d do.” Her dark eyes sparkled. “But, Will, what’s happened? You’ve been hurt?” She frowned as she examined him, her hand running over his cheek.
“I’m better, now. And we are hungry.” Will nodded.
“Then I’ll raise the kitchen and have you both fed before you know it.” She lumbered off.
Will, Jackson, and Wallace—leading his father—made their way to a corner where a large table sat with chairs and benches surrounding it. A flurry of servants brought food, more than Will or Jackson had seen in a long time.
Wallace watched Will as he ate. His brother seemed tired and his movements stiff. His eyes slid to Jackson as he considered the man. He was the largest fellow Wallace had ever seen, and yet for all Jackson’s size, that huge sword and his fierce expression, he seemed gentle, soft spoken, and well mannered.
“Tell me, Jackson. What is it you do?” Wallace asked.
“I am a mercenary, Lord Holcombe.”
“Sometimes a barber.” Will laughed and rubbed his chin. “And a stitcher.” He pointed to his head and the black threads.
“A man of many talents.” Wallace nodded, eying Jackson warily. This man killed for a living and looked every inch the part. Should he have allowed Jackson inside the keep? Perhaps he should ask Jackson to surrender his weapons, but Will wouldn’t have brought him home if there had been any danger. For now, he’d trust Will’s judgment.
He glanced back at his brother. Will’s head rested on his hand as if it were too heavy to hold upright. Jackson caught Wallace’s eye and shifted his eyes toward the stairs. Wallace gave him a nod in return.
“Will, it looks to me as if you need to lie down. Let’s go up to your room and get you into bed,” Wallace urged.
“A good idea, brother. I flag.” Will gave him a lopsided smile and pushed to his feet.
They made for the stone stairs and began the climb. Halfway up the stairs, Will slowed, his steps became a struggle, until at last he stopped and leaned against the wall. Wallace, in the lead, turned back just as Will’s eyes shuttered closed. He reached for Will but missed.
At the rear, Jackson sprang forward and caught Will as he collapsed. Wallace stood back against the wall, amazed that the man could swing his brother into his arms with ease and then carry him up the stairs as if he weighed nothing.
Leading the way to Will’s room, Wallace pushed open the door and stepped aside as Jackson carried Will to the large bed.
“Lord Holcombe, pull back his covers.” For a big man, his voice was quiet, reserved, not booming as one might expect. Wallace felt no flick of ire at Jackson’s command and did as requested. Jackson laid Will on the bed, then unbuckled his belts and removed his sword and dagger. He pulled off Will’s boots and then with care, undressed him.
Wallace stood back as Jackson pulled the quilts up to Will’s chest, his stare boring into Jackson’s back. Just what was the relationship between this stranger and his brother? The man was large enough to have overpowered Will, but there’d been no signs from Will of danger. Still, as elder brother, he had a responsibility to watch out for Will.
“I think you’ve undressed my brother before, Jackson.” Wallace lowered his voice, so not to disturb Will’s sleep.
The big man straightened. “I cared for your brother for seven days. He spent most of that time unconscious.”
Wallace was about to ask what had happened when Will was conscious, but Will roused and murmured, “It seems I am in need of more tending. I hate to be such a burden, Wallace.”
“You are no burden. Jackson, I must speak to my brother alone. Leave us.” Wallace wanted the truth, no matter how bad it might be.
Jackson’s eyes shifted to Will, who gave him a nod. “I’ll wait out in the hall, my lord.” He left the room and pulled the door closed behind him.
“Out with it, brother. I’m sure you have much to say.” Will sighed as he pulled his hair from underneath his back and draped it over his shoulder. He reached for the brush that lay on his side table and began to work it through his hair.
Wallace stood with his hands in fists, as if ready to fight. “I knew your ways would land you in this state. You’re fortunate you’re alive. This has to end, Will. You have to stop this behavior, this roving of the lands, this desperate searching.”
“Easy for you to say, Wallace. You have found Lady Ellen and have the beginnings of a family. Am I supposed to live alone?” Will concentrated on working out a knot.
“Alone? You could marry anytime you want, Will.” They had this conversation on too regular a basis, and Wallace knew the answer his brother would give.
“But my heart couldn’t survive locked in a loveless marriage. Besides, think of the poor woman to be saddled with me.” He gave a laugh, then continued brushing. “You know I have no want for women. Never have and never will. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want a life with someone.” Will glared at his brother and jerked the brush through his hair.
“What will Father say if he learns of this? Of you?” Wallace sat on the bed. “I fear his response.” He knew that his father loved Will, but would that love stay strong over this shame? He didn’t want to test it.
Will’s hand holding the brush fell to the bed, as if he were too tired to continue. “I do, also. But if he does learn, what is the worst he can do? Put me out? Renounce me?” He shrugged. “I am alone now, even amid my family. How would it be any different then?”
“We love you, Will.” Wallace picked up the brush and a section of Will’s hair, and brushed it as he had when they were younger.
“It’s not enough.” Will’s voice rose. “If I told you to live without your Ellen, without her love, without love at all, what would you say?”
“That’s different.” Wallace shook his head.
“Is it? I think not. I crave love as much as you do. Why can’t you accept me?” Will reached his hand out, grasped his brother’s arm, stilling the brush. “And who I love?”
Wallace’s gaze slid to the door. “Are you sure of this man?”
“He’s a good man, Wallace.”
“That’s what you said about the last man you swore you loved, and he almost killed you.” Wallace laid the brush on the table.
“Jackson is nothing like Hugh. Jackson loves me. He’s going to stay with me.” The look in his brother’s eyes told Wallace that Will believed it.
“I hope you’re right this time. I’d hate to have you go through that ordeal again.” The idea of keeping watch over Will to ensure he inflicted no harm to himself made Wallace shudder.
“I’m older now, less rash.” Will smiled. “Have no fear, brother.”
“But he’s a commoner, Will. Beneath you.”
“I like him beneath me.” Will grinned.
Wallace rolled his eyes. “He’s a paid killer.”
“A good man to have at your side, I think,” Will replied.
“Couldn’t you find some nobleman of like ways?”
“Like Hugh?” Will’s eyes narrowed.
“Well, no, but there must be someone else.” Wallace shrugged.
“Dozens, brother. Why, they’re scattered about the countryside like leaves. I have merely to choose one.” Will waved his hand and rolled his eyes. “Titles don’t matter to me and I didn’t think they mattered to you. Ellen, as well born as she is, had no title and you took her,” Will argued.
“That’s different.” Wallace was running out of arguments.
“No, it’s not. You wanted Ellen, whether she cam
e with title or not. I want Jackson, low born or not.”
“But, he has nothing, Will. No lands, no keep.”
“Listen to yourself. Are you saying if he came with a dowry, he’d be more acceptable?” Will laughed, then sobered. “Or is it that you want someone to take me off your hands?”
“I don’t want you to leave, Will. You can stay here, I’ve said that.”
“And Jackson? I won’t stay without him.” Will’s mouth set in a firm line, his brows crunched down.
Wallace sighed. There was no winning this fight. Will had always beaten him in the war of wits. “He’s very fierce looking.”
“Hugh taught me it’s not how a man looks, it’s how he acts toward others, no matter his rank or title.”
“He’s at least ten years your senior.”
“If my age matters not to him, his matters not to me.”
“He’s not as handsome as some.” Wallace grinned. Will was as stubborn now as he had been as a child.
“He is handsome to my eyes, brother. And what’s more, he has honor, his heart is good, his touch tender.” Will smiled and lowered his voice. “His kisses sweet.”
“Will!” Wallace leaned back, eyebrows raised.
“Do I shock you?” Will gave him a lopsided grin.
“You always have, brother.” Wallace shook his head.
“After your engagement, I had to listen to months of your sighing about Ellen. Ellen is so beautiful, so wonderful. Her voice is like a silver bell that peals in my heart!” Will laughed.
Wallace grimaced. Will always could twist words to his own ends and Wallace’s attempt at poetry, no matter how short lived, was no exception.
“Well, I was in love.” He looked at his brother with a smile. “Still am.”
“I know you love me, but can you accept me?”
“I always have.” He frowned and stood. “If not, I would have driven you from the keep years ago when you revealed yourself to me.” How could Will doubt that he loved him? “No one would have blamed me for it.”
“Not even Father.” Will sighed. “I thank you for allowing me to remain here.”
“You do not need to thank me. This is your home and always will be. Get some rest now. I’ll return after showing Jackson to his room.” Wallace stood.
“Jackson shares my bed, Wallace.” Will held Wallace’s gaze.
Well, if he meant his words, what would be the difference if Will had brought home a wife or even a mistress to Holcombe?
“He is welcome here as long as you wish it.” Wallace nodded, left the room, closed the door behind him, and came face to face with Jackson who leaned against the wall, his hand on his short sword.
“Attend me, Jackson. We have much to speak of.” He led the way down the stairs to the hall and to the chairs in front of the fire.
“Where is His Grace?” Jackson looked about him.
“My Lady Ellen has probably taken him for a walk. He likes to stroll about the keep, breathe the fresh air, hear the birds. It seems the more time he spends in the sunlight, the better he feels.” Wallace settled back. “Tell me the truth of what happened. Was Will caught attacking some lad?” He set his mouth, determined to learn the truth.
“Then you know of Will’s leanings?” The man raised one dark eyebrow.
“I have known for a long time—he’s made it no secret between us. However, it is not known to my father.” He gave Jackson a long look and leaned back in his chair.
Jackson watched him from under dark brows before speaking. “Will doesn’t attack lads, Lord Wallace. However, he was caught with a young man, old enough in my book, who claimed he’d been attacked to save his own skin. His father was among the men who discovered them together. They beat Will, robbed him, and left him for dead in a field.”
“I feared Will’s ways would take him to this end. I’m just glad he survived.” He shook his head. “You are a man of many skills, as I noted. Although you don’t seem the kind of man that Will…” He knew Will had lain with men, but had never met one of them. He leaned forward and stared into Jackson’s eyes. “Are you one of his lovers? Had you met before he was caught?”
Jackson shook his head. “I’d never met him before that night when I overheard the men talking about his capture and went to find the poor victim.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Wallace put his hand on the hilt of his sword.
Jackson’s eyes flicked to it, then to his face. “You are no match for me, Lord Wallace. I’ve spent twenty years killing men. Besides, you don’t have to defend your brother’s honor. He has honor enough for the both of us.”
“Will believes you will be staying and making this your home. Is it true?” Wallace demanded.
Jackson swallowed and looked into the fire. “I must leave tomorrow. I have business at Baymore. After that, I hope to return to him.”
“Business with Duke Baymore? Is he hiring men to wage a war?” Wallace’s hands gripped the arms of his chair.
“Not to my knowledge, my lord.”
“Then what business would Baymore have with a man such as yourself?”
“Do you mean a commoner?” Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “Or a mercenary?”
The man was Will’s lover and it wouldn’t do anyone good to bandy harsh words. Besides, he still wore that damned great sword across his back.
“I meant no disrespect, Jackson. It’s just that Holcombe and Baymore have had their difficulties.” It wasn’t up to him to tell Jackson of Will’s former lovers.
“Between dukes?” Jackson leaned forward.
Wallace’s gaze flicked to the stairs. “Between their sons.” He rose and strode from the hall.
Chapter Seven
Jackson leaned back and frowned. Between Hugh and Will?
He pushed to his feet to search for Wallace, deciding for now it might not be wise to let Wallace know that Lord Hugh was his younger half-brother. At least not before he’d told Will.
Later, Jackson found Wallace in the stables, inspecting a horse. Squatting on his heels, Wallace touched the fetlock of the mare and it raised its hoof. A young groom held the rope to the halter and watched. “Here’s the problem, lad. There’s a stone wedged in. I’ve told you before, when you bring the animals in from the pasture you must pick their hooves clean. No mud, no stones.” Wallace’s voice was steady and stern, not cruel or belittling.
“Aye, m’lord.” The lad nodded his head.
He let the hoof drop, stood, and handed the tool to the boy. “Now, come and finish the work.”
The boy stepped forward, handing off the rope to Wallace. He observed the young groom as he worked, giving soft encouraging noises where needed.
Jackson waited in the door and leaned on the stall until he caught Wallace’s eye.
“Aye, Jackson?” Wallace brushed off his hands on his breeches.
“Can we speak?” Jackson’s eyes shifted to the boy. Wallace’s gaze followed and he gave a short nod of understanding.
“Of course. Let’s walk.” He led the way outside and they strolled through the bailey side by side. “You have some questions? I see it in your eyes.”
“You mentioned Lord Hugh, the Marquess of Baymore.” Jackson wanted to hear the story.
“Aye.” Wallace was not a man who spoke idly. He was much like his brother, in not only looks, but also temperament and ways.
“What happened between Lord Hugh and Will?”
“My brother hasn’t spoken of him to you?” Wallace shifted his eyes to him.
“No, only to question what business I had at Baymore, but he didn’t mention Hugh.”
“And what did you tell him?” Wallace stopped and faced him.
“That I had business there, no more.”
“And what is the nature of that business?” His eyes bored into Jackson’s, his teeth clamped together.
“It’s personal.” He frowned and looked up at the sky. Having to explain himself to this man, even if he was Will’s brother, irritated
him.
“So you were heading there when you rescued Will?” Wallace started toward the keep’s open gate. Jackson kept stride with him.
“Aye.” They crossed under the lintel of the gate and walked at an easy pace down the road. “I promise you, my feelings for Will are true.”
Wallace stopped and took Jackson’s arm, pulling him around to face him. “This business at Baymore, it can’t wait?”
“No. I was on my way there when I came across Will. I’m a week late and dare not tarry longer. Even though I wish it, I can’t stay here with Will.” He stared into Wallace’s eyes, determined to make him understand. The flowery words that came so easy when he looked into Will’s blue eyes failed him now. He wished that he spoke more eloquently of his feelings. “It’s a matter of honor and oath, Lord Holcombe. I’m a mercenary—those who hire me must have faith that I will abide by my honor and my word. It’s all I have. I own no land, nothing more than I carry on me, and my purse is often empty. To lose my honor or break my word would be to give up all.”
“Not even for my brother?” Wallace challenged.
Jackson frowned and looked away. “What kind of man would I be if I lost my honor? How long before Will would fear I would break oath with him? How will he ever be sure of me or my word?” He wasn’t sure if Wallace would understand and he needed someone to, God knew.
Wallace growled, “Damn me, I see your point. If I lied to Lady Ellen, I would be hard pressed to win her trust again. Between men and women…” he paused, cleared his throat, and began again, “between those who love each other, there can be no lies, no mistrust.”
“You understand my predicament, then.” Jackson nodded, grateful for Wallace’s attempt to reconcile his feelings.
“I see it. But Jackson, there must be something you can do?”
“I will return if I can.”
“And if you can’t? That’s it, you’ll leave Will?”
Jackson looked into the distance, down the road he’d travel in the morning, but didn’t answer.
Wallace shook his head, his hands fisted. He strode off, then spun and faced Jackson. “If you do that, it will kill Will.”
“As when Lord Hugh rejected him?” Jackson’s guess hit its mark.
