DarkWolfe: Sons of de Wolfe (de Wolfe Pack Book 5)

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Rhoswyn simply nodded. In truth, she didn’t feel so overwhelmed as she had earlier, knowing that help was on the way. If this was to be her lot in life, with a handsome husband she was more than intrigued with, then she was willing to learn. Even from an English woman.

  “Then I will do what I can for now,” she asked. “When I am finished, where can I find ye? I mean, where will ye go?”

  Troy looked at her. Did he hear longing in her voice? Of course not. He’d known the woman less than a day. It was far too soon to hear anything sentimental like that, even though part of him wanted to hear it. But the other part of him was deeply reluctant, convinced that this would be a civil marriage and nothing more. He didn’t want to feel anything for Rhoswyn. He refused to. Any feelings he had, as he’d told Paris, were for Helene, still. They always would be.

  He was firm in that.

  “I am not sure where I will be, but it is not a big complex,” he said. “You will easily find me somewhere. Ask one of my men if you cannot locate me; they will know.”

  Rhoswyn’s features tensed with some uncertainty. She looked in the direction of the bailey, seeing the English moving around in the distance.

  “They dunna know me,” she said. “I am only a Scots tae them.”

  Troy shook his head. “You are my wife. They know that.”

  She looked at him, then. “And that alone will cause them to respect me? Nay, laddie. I must earn their respect, I think.”

  Laddie. She’d said it again. That little term that he rather liked hearing from her lips. “Why do you call me that?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Laddie. I’m not a lad, you know.”

  She gave him a half-grin. “I dunna know,” she said. “A habit, I suppose.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “You call all men laddie?”

  She laughed softly. “Nay, but me pa does,” she said. “’Tis a kind term, I suppose. Pa uses it with the men he likes. It’s when he doesna call ye laddie that ye should worry.”

  He could see the humor in her words. He was coming to see that she did have a sense of humor, and he was glad. If she was willing to let it come through, then perhaps she was, indeed, becoming resigned to the situation and the way things were. It was one more step in a series of small steps that she had to take in order to become accustomed to her new life. But she was moving forward, in any case. Troy took a step towards her, leaning down so he was more on her level.

  “If ye want tae call me laddie, then I’ll answer,” he said, mimicking her Scots brogue. “I’ll come tae whatever ye wish tae call me.”

  With that, he winked at her and headed out of the yard, leaving Rhoswyn struggling to catch her breath again. Oh, what that man could do to her!

  And the way he walked… he stalked, really. Long, smooth strides. It was a proud sort of walk. She watched him walk out into the bailey and disappear from sight but, still, she stood there like an idiot, thinking of that wink he gave her. There was that flattery again, something she wasn’t used to but something she knew she could grow to like. It made her feel special in a way that no one ever had.

  Laddie. Perhaps that made him feel special, too. As if they were starting to understand one another.

  A grin played on her lips as she turned around and went back to work.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Kale Water Castle

  It was a brisk autumn day as Lady Sable de Moray de Shera sat in front of a warm fire, working on a tiny little tunic. One of the serving women at Kale had just delivered a healthy son and Sable, who was very good with a needle and thread, was finishing up on the warm little garment for the child. She was a thoughtful woman, to friends as well as servants, and well-loved at Kale. She was overwhelmingly loved by her husband, who even after a year of marriage, was as besotted with his wife as he was the day he married her.

  With brown eyes, brown hair, and a porcelain face, Sable was exceedingly lovely and possessed graceful manners. Finishing her last stitch, she cut the bits of thread from the garment and held it up, looking at her handiwork. Pleased with it, she considered sewing another one, as she had enough fabric to do so, when the old oak door to the solar pushed open and her husband appeared. Sable smiled at the man as she set the little tunic to her lap.

  “Well?” she asked. “What brings you to me? Did you miss me so terribly that you could not stand being parted from me, not even since breaking our fast?”

  Cassius de Shera grinned at his wife. A very large man with broad shoulders, dark green eyes, and wavy dark hair, he was a son of the great and powerful House of de Shera. The patriarchs of the family were three brothers who had fought with Simon de Montfort during the tussle for the throne against Henry III. Lords of Thunder, they’d been called for their prowess and power in battle, and Cassius was a tribute to that reputation. He was the bastard son of the middle brother, Maximus, but the family had never treated him as if he was any less because he’d been born out of wedlock.

  In fact, Cassius was as well-trained and well-loved as the legitimate offspring, hence his presence here in the north. His father had sent him north to train with de Wolfe and learn the ways of the Scots, part of his broader training as a knight, and Cassius was hungry to learn all he could. He’d come to Kale Water right after his marriage to Sable, about a year prior, so they’d spent their entire married life up here in the wilds of the north.

  It had been as wonderful as both of them could have ever imagined.

  Which made Sable’s question something of the truth. Cassius couldn’t go for more than an hour without seeing his wife if he could help it, and she felt the same. They were eager lovers, deeply devoted to one another, and he went to her and kissed her on the top of the head as she sat in her cushioned chair.

  “Y-You know I cannot stand to be parted from you, in any case,” he said. Cassius had been born with a slight catch in his speech, something he’d worked very hard to be rid of. These days, it was barely noticeable. “But I did come with another purpose, believe it or not. A messenger has just come from Troy, bearing great news. The reivers have been chased from Monteviot and the tower is now a de Wolfe holding. William has asked Troy to remain for a time to secure it.”

  Sable was looking at him with some surprise. “So they were successful!”

  “Aye. T-They were victorious.”

  She smiled with relief. “I am very happy to hear that.”

  Before Cassius could reply, another big body appeared in the solar door and they both looked over to see Brodie de Reyne filling up the portal, his fair face alight.

  “Did you hear?” he demanded. “The armies were victorious at Monteviot!”

  Cassius nodded patiently. “Aye, we’ve heard,” he said. “I was just telling my wife”

  Brodie was grinning broadly. A tall and muscular man, he was from the prestigious de Reyne family, a very large family that had roots in Northumbria and York. He had a vivacious personality, something that ladies took to quite easily, and he had no shortage of female admirers.

  With his blond good looks and bright smile, Brodie de Reyne had quite a reputation as a lady’s man, something that had worried Cassius until Brodie once said something to Sable that she construed as flirtatious and she’d belted him across the mouth in outrage. After that, Cassius worried no more and Brodie was very careful what he said to Lady de Shera. Any daughter of the great Bose de Moray undoubtedly had her father’s fighting skills, so Brodie didn’t push Lady de Shera any more than necessary.

  In truth, he was afraid of her.

  Therefore, when he came into the solar, it was to shake Cassius’ hand as if to congratulate them both on Troy’s victory, but he made no move to shake Lady de Shera’s hand. She might stab him with her needle, anyway.

  “I had little doubt theirs would be a great victory,” Brodie said. “With so many armies converging on that little tower, the reivers never stood a chance.”

  Cassius nodded. “T-True enough,” he said. Then, he held up somethin
g he’d been holding in his left hand, a roll of yellowed vellum. “The messenger that came from Monteviot to deliver the news of triumph also brought a missive from Troy. It seems that the de Wolfe victory over the Scots was not the only big event to have taken place.”

  Brodie’s smile faded. “What do you mean?” he asked. “What does the missive say?”

  Cassius wriggled his eyebrows, perhaps hinting at the shocking nature of the missive, as he unrolled the vellum and looked at the scribed words. He’d already read them once but he did so again for the benefit of his wife and Brodie.

  “I-It would seem that Red Keith Kerr showed up at Monteviot after the battle and demanded de Wolfe’s best warrior against his best warrior,” he said. “A warrior-against-warrior battle to decide whether or not Keith would demand his outpost returned to him or if de Wolfe would keep it. William evidently pitted Troy against the Kerr warrior.”

  Brodie’s eyebrows lifted. “And?”

  Cassius glanced up from the missive. “Troy lost.”

  Brodie’s face went slack with shock. “Impossible,” he hissed. “Troy de Wolfe cannot lose. The man is too skilled and too powerful to lose to a Scotsman!”

  Cassius held up a hand to ease the man’s disbelief. “From what Troy says, all was not as it seemed,” he said. “He was asked to fight a Kerr warrior who turned out to be a woman. Troy was so surprised that it gave the woman the upper hand and she was able to force him to submit. At least, that was how Troy tells it.”

  Brodie’s mouth was hanging open. “I do not believe it!”

  Cassius’ gaze lingered on the vellum for a moment longer before rolling it up and handing it to Brodie. “Believe it,” he said. “Red Keith’s terms were not the return of Monteviot, however; the terms he set forth were that a man of William’s choosing would marry Red Keith’s daughter to form an alliance.”

  Brodie’s shock was gaining. “A marriage?” he scowled. “Who was the hapless fool to be forced into that agreement?”

  “Troy.”

  Now, Sable’s disbelief joined Brodie’s. She leapt out of her chair and snatched the vellum from Brodie’s hands. She could read, in fact, and she began to read Troy’s handwriting carefully.

  “A wife!” she gasped as she scanned the words. “I cannot believe it! Now Troy has a wife?”

  Cassius nodded. “A-Aye, and he needs help with her,” he said. “You will note on the missive that he has asked you and me to go to Monteviot. In particular, he asks that you come to help Lady de Wolfe with her new duties. He asks that we come right away.”

  Sable could read that part. Like Brodie, her mouth popped open in shock but she quickly shut it, looking to her husband with wide eyes.

  “We are going to Monteviot, then?” she asked.

  Cassius nodded. “Troy has asked it of us,” he said. “I-I do not know how long we shall be there, so you had better pack everything you need to be away for a few weeks at least. Brodie, you are in command while I am at Monteviot.”

  Brodie nodded, taking the missive back from Sable when she finished with it. As he read the missive one more time, Sable was already thinking on what she needed to take and how quickly she could pack.

  “I shall have the servants bring my trunks down from the storage room,” she said. “I shall bring clothing and personal things, like bedding. But I wonder what more I should bring?”

  Cassius shrugged. “Monteviot has undoubtedly seen a serious battle,” he said. “T-That means that the outpost itself will be damaged. Even the smallest things, like kitchens and stables, will see damage. I would suggest we bring all we can, expecting to find the place in ruins. I cannot imagine, with the size of de Wolfe’s army, that much of the place is still intact.”

  Sable thought about all of the trunks she had in storage and of all the things she could pack in them. A woman with an innate sense of determination in all things, she nodded firmly and turned on her heel.

  “I will go now and begin preparations,” she said.

  Cassius stopped her before she could get too far away. “How soon do you believe you will be ready?” he asked. “Troy has asked us to come right away, so you cannot take days. You can only take hours.”

  Sable nodded smartly. “I can have everything packed and ready to go in a few hours,” she said confidently. “How long will it take us to reach Monteviot?”

  “No more than two or three hours.”

  Sable thought quickly. “It is not quite the nooning meal yet,” she said, thinking aloud. “Give me two hours. I believe I can have everything ready by then. We will need a wagon, however.”

  “A-Aye, my love.”

  “And I want to bring Eda and Hazel,” she said. “You do not think there are any house servants at Monteviot, do you?”

  Cassius shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “T-The army would have only brought servants and trades related to the army. I would wager to say there is nothing by way of household servants at that outpost.”

  “Then I shall bring them,” Sable said decisively. “I will need their help.”

  With that, she blew her husband a kiss and rushed off to complete her task, leaving Cassius and Brodie with the contents of the missive lingering between them. When Sable’s footsteps faded away, Brodie looked at Cassius.

  “He had to marry a Kerr wench?” he hissed. “God’s Bones, Cass. That sounds like a nightmare. He could not have done it willingly.”

  Cassius could only imagine Troy’s reluctance at such a thing. Furthermore, he was surprised that the man’s father, William, would have suggested it, knowing how Troy was still grieving for his first wife. At least, that was always the impression he got from the man. He honestly couldn’t fathom how Troy was handling the situation, but he was soon to find out.

  “First he is defeated by a woman in a challenge, and then he has to marry a woman he does not even know,” he said. Then, he cocked his head curiously. “G-God’s Bones… do you think it is the same woman?”

  Brodie was appalled at the mere thought. “I hope not,” he said. “If it is… God help the man is all I can say. My grandmother was Scots, you know. Clan Kerr, in fact. She died several years ago but the woman was a spitfire up until the end. As children, we were terrified of her. I think all of the women of Clan Kerr must be fearsome creatures.”

  Cassius, too, was concerned for Troy and his forced marriage to a Scots woman. “I do not think I have ever heard you mention your grandmother.”

  Brodie nodded. “Cari was her name,” he said. “I remember that she and my grandfather were deeply in love, so I suppose there is some redeeming quality in a Scots woman. But she was terrifying, by God.”

  Cassius smiled faintly at the real fear Brodie displayed, even after all of this years. “Well,” he said, taking the missive back from Brodie. “I-I suppose all we can do is hope for the best and hope that Troy’s new bride is not as frightening as your grandmother. But I will admit I am rather concerned with what I will find at Monteviot. Troy is undoubtedly extremely unhappy with this marriage and…”

  “And it could make for a miserable situation,” Brodie finished for him. “It sounds selfish of me to stay this, but better that you’re going than me, old man. Best of luck. I fear you will need it.”

  Cassius simply cocked an eyebrow at the man as he fled the solar, away from Cassius as if fearful the man would rope him into going to Monteviot, too. It sounded like a perfectly ghastly situation at the fallen outpost, one that Cassius and his wife would soon be entering. But Troy had asked for help and they had no choice but to answer the call.

  Cassius had to admit that he wasn’t looking forward to it.

  Any of it.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Monteviot Tower

  The more Rhoswyn worked, the more at ease – and the more determined – she became. In lieu of the chaos she was faced with in the kitchen area, it was simply a matter of picking a place to start, and she did.

  She started with the animals.

  The nanny go
at and her kid were her priority at first. They had a little shelter, she could see, but the roof had been ripped off of it, perhaps to make projectiles or even to be used as firewood, so she walked the bailey of Monteviot in a hunt for scraps of wood or rocks to use to repair it. The wood was scattered from the projectiles the reivers had made from furniture in the tower, pieces of bed frame or legs of a chair.

  On her walk, Rhoswyn came across the priest, and Audric offered to help her. Unused to help of any kind, she wasn’t sure how to deter the priest who seemed undeterrable, so she simply kept hunting for wood and other materials while Audric followed her around and picked up pieces on his own.

  As they hunted, Rhoswyn paid no attention to the man, but that didn’t discourage him. He was determined to help her whether or not she wanted him to. Soon enough, they had quite a bundle of scrap wood and they headed back to the kitchen where Rhoswyn was forced to explain what she was doing. Audric wasn’t going anywhere so she could no longer ignore him. He was more than happy to help with her projects and while she fixed the roof on the goat enclosure, Audric worked on the chicken pen, which was also damaged.

  Between the two of them, they managed to repair the housing for the animals. Rhoswyn put the goats back into their pen and then she and the priest hunted down all of the chickens, which turned out to be nine more of them, including a cock. They also found more eggs on their hunt, mostly in the buildings behind the kitchen which might have been a buttery or butchery at some point. In all, they collected twenty-one eggs and eleven chickens total, and put the chickens back into their pen while the precious eggs were set aside.

  The entire time, Audric kept up a steady stream of conversation while Rhoswyn remained mostly silent. She was wary of the priest from Jedburgh but, more than that, with her conversational skills lacking and not having any friends, she was unaccustomed to being with someone on a friendly basis. Comfortable companionship had no meaning to her. Every time the priest would talk about something, she would look at the man as if greatly annoyed – or greatly confused – by his presence.