WolfeLord: de Wolfe Pack Generations

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Adria smiled. “Me, too,” she said. “What an astonishing way to live. With someone who cares about you and wants the best for you.”

  “I cannot think of anything finer.”

  She bit her lip, still smiling at him, in a gesture he found utterly charming. He chuckled. “Even if we delay our marriage for propriety’s sake, mayhap… mayhap you will let me court you,” he said. “Discreetly, of course. I simply do not want to waste any time coming to know you because this is a moment I never thought I would have.”

  “What moment?”

  “The chance to find happiness. With you.”

  Adria thought that was the sweetest thing she’d ever heard. Will, a man she’d known for years, a cold man by most accounts, had a romantic streak him.

  And she loved that.

  “I would like that,” she said softly.

  He smiled at her, a gleam of real hope in his eyes. Then, he yawned, spoiling the moment, but she laughed. He grinned sheepishly but he was prevented from saying anything when the baby on the bed began to mewl like a cat. Immediately, Adria was up, turning the baby on his side and patting his back gently to soothe him.

  Will got up from the chair and went to stand beside her, watching her gently tend to the tiny infant. It was very sweet and he was gaining new respect for her, seeing things about her that he’d never seen before. When the baby settled down and she turned to him, finger to her lips for silence, all he could see was those lips. He couldn’t help himself. Bending down, he slanted his lips softly over hers.

  Startled, Adria gasped, but she didn’t pull away. Will had only meant to kiss her briefly, but the moment his lips touched hers, he knew this wasn’t going to be a brief or chaste kiss. Not even close. She was warm and soft and before he realized it, he was pulling her into his arms.

  Adria let him.

  His kiss was curious at first, but the moment he pulled her to his chest, the kiss turned hot. He suckled her lips, tasting her, squeezing her so hard that he squeezed the breath right out of her. Adria’s arms ended up around his neck, her hands on the back of his head, her fingers intertwined in his hair.

  Searing.

  That’s what it was. Searing.

  The baby let out a weak cry and Will abruptly let her go, but it was reluctantly. He still had his arms around her as they both looked at the baby and Adria finally had to gently pull his arms away so she could get to the child. Will was still hovering over her, still very close, and when she settled the baby down again and turned to him, he moved to kiss her again. He nearly made contact, his lips against hers, but noise in the other chamber had them putting immediate distance between them.

  The wet nurse was back.

  “You came to see your son, my lord?” she said, coming into the alcove. “He’s doing quite well. He’s a strong lad.”

  Adria was trying desperately to look as if she weren’t breathless or disheveled. “He’s beginning to stir,” she told the wet nurse, smoothing at the braid that Will had managed to muss. “I believe he is hungry again.”

  The wet nurse leaned over the bed, peering at the child. “I’m sure he is,” she said. “I’d better feed the lad all he can eat.”

  “Where is his wash?” Adria asked.

  “Down in the kitchen yard with the washerwomen.”

  “I’ll see to it.

  As the wet nurse went to pick up the baby to feed him, Adria and Will left the alcove together. Adria put a finger to her lips, indicating the bed where Jordan was sleeping, so Will remained silent until they shut the door and reached the bottom of the stairs.

  The small great hall loomed before them, empty.

  “Are you really going to check on the wash?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I am,” she said. “And do you know what you should do?”

  His eyes glimmered with mirth. “I am afraid to ask.”

  She pointed to his solar on the opposite side of the small hall. “Sleep,” she said. “You’ve not slept all night, I would guess, so you should try to get some sleep now. It is a quiet morning, Will. Nothing is happening that you need to attend to right now.”

  He grunted. “That’s what you think,” he said. “My father and Chris de Lohr nearly came to blows this morning. I should really find them and make sure they have made nice with each other.”

  Adria frowned. “Why should they fight?”

  Will waved her off. “I’ll tell you the whole story later,” he said. “Suffice it to say that grief does strange things to men.”

  She looked at him closely. “And you?” she asked quietly. “How are you feeling? Above all, Lily was still your wife. Surely you must feel some sadness.”

  “Of course I do,” he said. “She was a friend to me, you know. In spite of everything, we were friendly with one another.”

  Adria smiled sadly. “I know,” she said. “I have seen it for years. You were always pleasant with one another. If you could not be with her at the end, I am glad that I was able to spend her last moments with her. She was with someone who cared about her and she knew she had given birth to a son. I know she was happy about that. Those are her last memories and they are good ones.”

  She was starting to tear up and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. “She loved you,” he said huskily. “We all take comfort knowing you were with her.”

  Adria embraced him, their first real embrace and one that was so completely satisfying. She never knew being held by a man could be so warm and comforting. As big as Will was, it was like being swallowed up by a mass of flesh and heat and safety.

  It was bliss.

  “I am just glad that I could be there,” she whispered against him. He didn’t seem keen to let her go and she was afraid that they might be seen, so she patted him on the chest and gently pushed herself from his embrace. “Now, I am going to check on the wash and then I will find Atticus. I think I should spend the day with him, don’t you?”

  Will nodded. “He will need your comfort,” he said. “I am grateful.”

  Adria thought of the little boy who was now motherless. She felt overwhelmingly protective over him because of it. “I will take care of him, I promise,” she said. “And speaking of comfort… given that I have railed against him, it may seem strange for me to suggest that you might see how Marcellus is. I still have visions of him crying in the stairwell when Lily died, unable or unwilling to come inside the door where she was.”

  Will nodded faintly. “I will find him,” he said. “And your show of compassion does not surprise me.”

  She shrugged. “I suppose, in the end, it is not my place to judge them,” she said. “I still feel that it was wrong of them, but that does not matter any longer. If you have not judged them, what right do I have to do it?”

  He smiled at her. There wasn’t much he could say to that because she was right. He was just glad that she’d come to that conclusion on her own. He was starting to see how kind and rational she was.

  It was something he appreciated, very much.

  “Then I shall go about my duties and see you later,” he said. “Mayhap you should take Atticus back to the river today. He likes it so much there.”

  She nodded. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  “And mayhap I will join you.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing.”

  He laughed softly. “Good,” he said. Then, he headed towards his solar, but not before blowing her a kiss. “Until later, my lady.”

  Adria just smiled. Her heart was pounding a mile a minute and all she wanted to do was smile until her face split in two. It was the effect Will was starting to have on her.

  A joyous moment in a day that was badly in need of such things.

  Leaving Will to go about his day, she quit the keep and headed out into the sunshine.

  *

  Lady de Wolfe was dead.

  That was all anyone could talk about this morning, but Gar didn’t really care. All he cared about was his daughter, who see
med to have disappeared.

  He was on the hunt.

  A large contingent of soldiers had rolled in just past dawn, flying blue and yellow standards with a lion on them. Gar had heard the soldiers talking and it seemed that Lady de Wolfe’s father had arrived, though too late to see his daughter alive. She had evidently given birth to a son, a very precious commodity given that the child had de Lohr and de Wolfe blood.

  In some circles, much more desirable than even royal blood.

  But Gar wasn’t concerned about any of that. His daughter was caught up in the chaos that was going on in the wake of Lady de Wolfe’s death, given that she had been the woman’s lady-in-waiting, but he was determined to find her. She wanted him gone on this very morning, as she’d so adamantly told him, and he would go – but only after he’d made his final stand.

  Gar had been given a good deal of time to think last night while the castle was still for the most part, as whispers of Lady de Wolfe’s death were flying but there had not yet been a confirmation. There had been no formal evening meal, as there usually was, so the servant who was in charge of the knights’ quarters brought Gar cold beef and bread, certainly not the rich meals he’d been enjoying since his arrival.

  The night itself seemed to have a strange, unsteady feel.

  As if the stars themselves had changed.

  During that odd stillness, Gar had made a decision. He wasn’t going to beg for his daughter’s permission any longer. If he wanted her wed, she would be wed to whomever he chose. He’d tried to talk to Ronan yesterday, but the young knight avoided him at every turn. Hermes did the same, though he was not as rude about it as Ronan had been. When Gar had asked him if he’d had a chance to think about his offer, Hermes had simply changed the subject before moving on to his duties. He wouldn’t give Gar any time to ask more questions or persuade him.

  That meant that Gar had little choice left.

  Adria was coming with him.

  He wasn’t sure how he was going to achieve it, only that he was. He would take her back to Silas de Brito and let him deal with her insolent nature. Silas was old, rich, childless and widowed, and he wanted sons to carry on the family name. That was the only reason he wanted to marry Adria. Of course, it was about the money, but it was more about establishing his legacy. Like it or not, that’s where Adria was heading.

  Gar didn’t want that debt hanging over his head any longer.

  The time had come to act.

  He finally spied his daughter about mid-morning, herding several young boys into the kitchen yard. She had one of the boys by the hand and as Gar drew closer, he could see that it was a de Wolfe son. He’d seen the boy running about with his band of hooligans, a loud child who had everyone at Carlisle under his thumb. At least, it seemed that way, because Adria was most certainly under the lad’s thumb.

  He ruled Carlisle more than his father did.

  The boys were running into the kitchen yard with Adria bringing up the rear, but Gar hurried to catch up with her before she disappeared completely. If he wanted to convince her to leave with him, he was going to have to be careful.

  And clever.

  He knew she wouldn’t go willingly.

  “Adria,” he called to her. “Adria, sweetling!”

  Adria was about to step through the gate when she heard her father behind her. By the time she turned around, there was a decidedly unfriendly expression on her face that Gar pretended to ignore.

  “I have heard about Lady de Wolfe,” he said with mock sympathy. “What a great tragedy for both families.”

  Emotionally brittle, Adria had little patience with her father this morning. “It is, indeed.”

  “I heard that it was childbirth?”

  “Aye.”

  “And the child?”

  “He is small, but he survived.”

  Gar nodded as if he really cared. “God is merciful then,” he said. “Have you been tending him?”

  “I have, along with a wet nurse and Lady Warenton.”

  “And how is Lord Irthington?”

  “Grieving, as you can imagine.” She stopped him before he could ask any further questions regarding people he didn’t care about. “I told you to leave this morning. Why are you still here?”

  He frowned. “It would hardly be considerate of me to leave after such a tragedy,” he said. “I thought to remain. Mayhap I may be of service.”

  Adria’s patience vanished. “With what?” she demanded. “Gar, you are no longer welcome here. I want you to gather your things immediately and leave. We do not want you here. I am not sure how much plainer I can be.”

  In the kitchen yard, the boys were yelling, running around and chasing one another. They had bread in their hands, as Adria had brought them into the kitchen yard to find food to bring down to the river. Gar pointed to the boys.

  “Surely you do not need to be tending these children,” he said. “I can watch over them. Surely you are needed elsewhere.”

  Adria rolled her eyes. “Nay, you cannot watch over the children,” she said. “I would not leave you in charge of dogs much less children. Gather your things and leave. If you do not, I will tell the knights and they will make sure you do.”

  So much for trying to be helpful. Adria turned away from him with the intention of passing into the kitchen yard, but he grabbed her by the arm. Furious, she came to a halt and raked her nails over his hand. He drew back quickly, in pain.

  “I told you never to touch me,” she growled. “Get out and leave me alone.”

  Gar looked at the two scratches on his hand, already oozing blood. He smiled thinly. “I want you to listen very carefully to me,” he said. “I will leave you alone, on one condition.”

  “Say it and go.”

  “You will listen to me one final time.”

  “Speak.”

  Gar looked pointedly at her. “You have refused to marry de Brito,” he said. “You will not marry any of these fine young knights so that I may repay de Brito for the life he gave you.”

  “He did not give me a life!”

  “He did give you the life you lead by loaning money to me so that I could put you in front of Lady Lancaster at the proper place and the proper time,” he said. “Think about it and stop being so self-righteous. Had we not attended the tourney at Kenilworth, you would probably be married to a farmer with ten children to take care of by now. Your life would be difficult and harsh. You might even be hungry. Instead, he provided us with the money so that you could have a better life. No matter how much you want to tell me that this is all my problem, think about what I did to ensure you had a life with the heir to the House of de Wolfe. Had I not incurred the debt, you would not be here.”

  Unfortunately, his logic was sound. It was the truth. Adria was gearing up to turn her back on him again, but she couldn’t manage to do it because he was absolutely right. She did owe him the life she was living.

  She sighed sharply.

  “I will acknowledge that,” she said. “But I am still not marrying him.”

  “Then give me money to pay him off. How much do you have?”

  Adria suspected it might come to this. She opened her mouth, but Atticus and his friends suddenly rushed up to her, food in their hands.

  “May we go to the river now?” Atticus asked excitedly.

  Adria nodded. “Tell the gate guards where you are going,” she said. “I will be there shortly.”

  The boys rushed through, running for the gatehouse with pieces of bread falling to the ground as they ran, tumbling from their overloaded hands. When they were out of earshot, Adria looked at her father.

  “How much do you need?” she asked, resignation in her tone. “Let us come to the crux of your visit, Gar. How much do you need to give to de Brito?”

  “Ten pounds.”

  Her eyes widened. “Ten pounds?” she repeated. “That is a good deal of money. I remember everything you bought for me in order to foster at Kenilworth and it was not ten pounds’ worth of
items. Where did the rest of the money go?”

  Gar shrugged. “I had other debts to pay off,” he said. “But I need ten pounds to pay the man off.”

  Adria shook her head. “I do not have ten pounds.”

  “How much do you have?”

  “Not quite half.”

  “Then ask your liege,” he said. “Surely de Wolfe has the money. Surely his wife had the money. Mayhap there is money you could take from her. She no longer needs it.”

  Adria looked at him in outrage. “I am not going to steal the money and most certainly not from a dead woman,” she said. “I will give you what I can, but you will have to work for the rest. Go find a rich lord and tell him you’ll mind his wine stores or be a liaison to his merchants for a price.”

  “I will not work for anyone,” Gar fired back. “I am a nobleman from an old family. I do not work for anyone.”

  He said it with such disdain. The man would rather steal or beg money than work for it, and Adria rolled her eyes.

  “Then do whatever you want,” she said bitterly. “Steal it and hope whoever you steal it from doesn’t catch you. In fact, if you’re going to embark on a life of crime, why not make it easy for yourself? Steal a man’s wife and ransom her back to him. The truth is that I care not how you get the money because that is your problem. I will give you what I have and then wash my hands of the entire thing, but whatever you decide to do, you will leave Carlisle before sundown. I have given you enough warning and I will not warn you again.”

  With that, she turned to follow the boys’ path to the river.

  Gar watched her go, the wheels of thought turning in his mind. She’d given him an idea, unknowingly, and he needed to consider it further.