“I am not displeased,” he lied. So much for honest answers. “But I am… surprised. You sent me a missive a few months ago asking if you could visit. Do you recall?”
She hesitated a moment before nodding. “Aye, my lord.”
“I have not had a chance to answer it yet.”
“Aye, my lord.”
She was very obedient, automatic in her perfect manners. He forced himself to soften just a little more. “I have not wanted you to come to The Lyceum because we have been having a great deal of trouble with the Scots,” he said. “There is danger here and that is why I did not invite you to come. Do you understand?”
“Aye, my lord.”
“I am going to have to send you home. It is not safe for you to be here.”
She looked at him with those big, brown eyes that he could have sworn, in her youth, had been a shade of hazel. There had been gold to them, he thought. Or perhaps it was simply his imagination. Torston had a memory that exceeded most men, and he could remember the slightest detail from years ago. It was a gift. But in this case, he must have been wrong, which was rare.
Odd…
“May… may we at least stay the night, my lord?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts as her voice quaked with fear.
Torston was starting to feel like an ogre. “Of course you may,” he said. “In fact, you may stay for a few days so that you may rest before your long journey home, but you are to stay to the castle. No wandering outside the walls and if you plan to leave the keep, you will seek permission from myself or from Sir Jess. The situation can change quite rapidly here and we must ensure that everyone remains safe.”
Since he put it that way, it didn’t make her sound so… unwanted. He wasn’t sure why he phrased the situation as he had, only that after seeing the woman and how timid she was, he didn’t want to be cruel. It would be like kicking a kitten. All frustration with her appearance aside, he didn’t want to be deliberately spiteful.
“Thank you, my lord,” she said. “You are very kind.”
He didn’t like hearing that praise because he didn’t think he was being kind at all. “It is the polite thing to do since you have traveled such a great distance,” he said. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have duties to attend to.”
He started to turn away from her but she stopped him. “My lord,” she said. “May I ask a question?”
He paused. “Of course.”
Her pale cheeks began to take on some color. “I was wondering,” she said. “After we are married… shall I live here with you?”
We are not getting married if I have anything to say about it, he thought. “In truth, I’ve not considered the alternative,” he said. “I serve The Lyceum and Lord Harringham. This is my home.”
She looked around the chamber, glancing from the window. “Do you like it here, my lord?”
“I do.”
“Even with the Scots?”
“It is part of the life when one lives on the borders.”
“Have you never thought to live anywhere else, then?”
His eyes glimmered weakly as he looked at her. “It sounds as if you have another place in mind.”
She grinned with a mouthful of teeth that were slightly protruding. They weren’t unattractive, but they were rather big. “Mayhap London, I suppose,” she said. “My brother says life there is very exciting.”
“I was unaware you have a brother.”
“A bastard brother of my father, but he has married well. He is the Duc de Boussac.”
The glimmer faded from Torston’s eyes. “You have a brother who is a duke?” he said. “I do not recall hearing any of this, my lady.”
“Oh?” she cocked her head curiously. “I am not sure why you did not. I have, you know.”
Torston cast her a long look. He remembered his father speaking on the terms of the betrothal, years ago, and it included inheriting the de Weese fortune, properties, and titles. If there had been a brother, then he would have inherited everything, but the entire point of the betrothal was to ensure the family continued through the heiress – Lilia.
And only now he was hearing of a brother?
Something seemed very odd about it.
“I am quite certain there was no mention of a brother when the betrothal was discussed,” he said. “If there had been, my father would not have agreed to a marriage. I know that for certain. It will be your brother who will inherit your father’s titles and wealth.”
Sensing his extreme displeasure at the news of a sudden brother, Lilia shook her head quickly. “He will not,” she said. “My mother would not allow it. My brother was the result of a liaison between my father and one of my mother’s ladies. When he was born, he was sent away to France and that is where he has remained, although he has come to London on occasion. I have visited with him when he has come to England. He inherited nothing from my father, which is why he married into the House of Boussac. His wealth and titles came through his wife, as will yours.”
If Torston didn’t know better, he could swear that was a dig at him. He was a second son and they both knew it, meaning his older brother, Thorton, had inherited the family home of Netherghyll Castle in Yorkshire along with the family titles. It was the entire reason for Triston de Royans making this marriage for Torston – so he would have some wealth of his own through the de Weese heiress.
But Torston didn’t need, or want, to be reminded of that. Something told him that Lady Lilia was more shrewd than she let on. He felt the need to ponder this conversation and regroup, because the situation wasn’t the same as it was when he’d first entered the room. Breaking his betrothal with Lady Lilia was predicated on the need to have her agreement in it and he could see that hope was a foolish one.
Already, he could see it.
“I will see you at sup tonight,” he said, unwilling to pursue that line of conversation at the moment. “Retreat with your women and someone will come for you tonight to escort you to the great hall.”
He was turning her for her nurse, hovering over at the far end of the room with a disapproving expression on her face, but Lilia wasn’t so eager to return. She gazed up at him rather anxiously.
“You, my lord?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Probably not. But as I said, I will see you there.”
“But if you do not escort me, I shall be shamed,” she said. “To not be escorted into supper on my first night at The Lyceum by my betrothed will be a great humiliation. I should not attend if that is the case.”
So the frail little woman had some courage. Torston was back to being annoyed. “If it is convenient, I will come,” he said. “If not, someone else will come for you. Go with them or refuse; it makes no difference to me.”
It was a cruel thing to say, but he didn’t like the way she was trying to manipulate him. As her eyes widened and he saw tears coming, he turned for the door and quit the chamber, leaving Lilia standing there and Morley still lingering with the nurse. He didn’t even care that he’d left Morley behind because, at the moment, he was more concerned with his interaction with Lady Lilia.
He could see she was going to be a problem.
That was not a welcome realization.
“He is not happy we are here.”
Morley had watched the interaction between Torston and Lilia until Torston essentially stormed from the chamber. Lilia had returned to Antonia and Morley, hanging her head, but Antonia had sized up the situation quickly. Those words had come from her and all Morley could do was nod his head.
“I told you he would not be,” he hissed. “You have not made this easy, have you? You could not have simply waited until the appointed time that this contract was to come due.”
Antonia waved a hand at him, a silencing gesture. “It does not matter how he feels,” she said. “He is bound by the contract and I shall hold him to it. The sooner he understands that he has no choice in all of this, the better. We must move forward.”
Morley sighed heavily
as he looked to Lilia. “What did he say to you, child?”
Lilia looked like a beaten dog. Her nervous gaze darted between Morley and Antonia. “He wanted to know why I had come early,” she said. “He told me that he does not want me here at The Lyceum because of the trouble with the Scots. He says it is not safe. He insists that we return home right away.”
Antonia looked at Morley, who nodded. “He is correct,” he said. “We have seen weekly battles as of late, so it is not particularly safe here.”
Antonia lifted an eyebrow. “But you said he had just come from a peace conference with those Scots.”
“He did,” Morley said. “But there is no peace as of yet. It is still a volatile situation, so Torston’s concerns are valid. You do not want to be in a castle under siege, Antonia.”
Antonia’s nature was to argue with him, on any point, but it was difficult to contest this one because it was a matter of safety. Still, she had come for a reason and she would not surrender any of the ground she’d gained by coming here.
“It looks peaceful enough to me,” she said. “In fact, now is the time to act. Morley, you will convince Lord Harringham to have a grand party to celebrate the arrival of Sir Torston’s intended. Let all of the allies see the fine house that Sir Torston shall soon marry into, including those at Makendon Castle.”
She didn’t say anything more about Makendon, but Morley got the message. She wanted Alyx, in particular, to be aware of the arrival of Torston’s betrothed. Antonia had said she would take care of Alyx’s longing for Torston and a party announcing Lilia’s arrival was a start to that.
The start to killing a young woman’s dream.
“This may not be the right time with the Scot’s peace overture,” Morley said even though he knew that any arguing with his sister would be futile. “There is a good deal happening and a party would be most unwelcome.”
Antonia refused to be denied. “It would be a pleasant diversion,” she insisted. “Invite the Scots, in fact. What better way to invite peace than to welcome them to a social affair? Lilia and her ladies write beautifully, like an artform, and we can scribe beautiful invitations for the gathering.”
Morley took a stand, but he did so after sending Lilia away. He didn’t want the girl hearing what would undoubtedly be an extended argument. As the petite woman quickly returned to her chamber, Morley faced his sister.
“You do not understand the politics at work right now, so allow me to explain them,” he muttered. “We have had long-standing hostilities against Clan Kerr since before I came into the service of Lord Harringham. The Kerr Clan has done damage to our sheep herds and it has been an ongoing fight for years. Now, we actually have a chance for peace and that is going to be the only thing on the mind of Lord Harringham. I will look like an ignorant fool for suggesting a party to celebrate the arrival of Torston’s betrothed in the midst of this. This simply isn’t the time.”
Antonia pretended to ponder that but what she was really pondering was her next move. She moved closer to him, her expression quite thoughtful even if her words were venomous.
“Years ago, I had a brother who had a taste for men,” she said quietly. “Do you recall? Even as a young lad, he had a fancy for other boys. When he grew older, he would pay the acolytes at the parish church for favors. I remember that you begged me to pretend I was the one sending romantic notes to the young men of our village so that our father would not discover their true origin. Father labeled me a harlot for it. Is any of this stirring your memory, Morley?”
By now, Morley was red in the face. He couldn’t look at her. “It is.”
“I sacrificed a great deal for you, Brother, including my reputation at times to cover up your deeds.”
Morley hissed. “But you extracted your pound of flesh,” he said. “You sent me to punish those you felt had wronged you, including scarring a young woman who had her eyes on the same man you did. I clipped her cheek in the darkness of the church with a sharp dagger and she forever had a scar on her jaw because of it.”
“She did.”
“But the man you had your eyes on married her, anyway.”
Voices were becoming loud as sensitive subjects were raised. It had always been this way with the two of them; Antonia was vicious and Morley had little sense of morality, making them quite a pair. They had always taken care of each other in their own twisted way. Now, with Torston de Royans, it was simply another scheme between them and Antonia intended to have her way in it.
“With everything I have ever done for you, this is how you repay me?” she said. “I am telling you that a party to announce the arrival of Lady Lilia is exactly what is needed now. Sir Torston must be forced into acknowledging her, especially if he has his eyes on the girl from Makendon.”
Morley rolled his eyes and looked away, knowing he was defeated. He knew she wasn’t going to let up on the subject so it would be futile to resist or refuse. If only to silence her, he would agree.
“Very well,” he said, his irritation full-blown. “I will tell Lord Harringham that a celebration is warranted. But if he does not give his permission, I cannot force him.”
“Then you will simply let the subject go until the next day when you ask him again, and again until he consents.”
Morley was finished discussing it with her. He’d said all he intended to say.
“I will do what I can,” he said.
“You will do more than that.”
Without a response to the circular argument, he quit the chamber, heading down the stairs and knowing, without a doubt, that Lionel would refuse to have a party in the midst of these uncertain times. He’d served Lionel for many years and knew his mind, and knew that the man would think a celebration to welcome Lady Lilia was a bad idea.
Imagine Morley’s surprise to realize he’d been wrong.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Makendon Castle
“It is a threat,” Lance said quietly. “You know it is a threat. He probably has men watching Makendon right now to ensure you do not go against his wishes.”
Winslow knew that. Sitting in his cushioned chair and feeling the familiar shoulder and chest pains from too much stress, he was looking at an unfolded missive on the table before him. The message it contained was the cause of his issues at the moment.
“Who knew the man could write?” he muttered ironically. “He writes very well.”
“Well enough to issue what comes to an ultimatum.”
Winslow scratched his neck. “He is not stupid,” he said. “From our brief meeting, he could see that Torston has his eyes on Alyx and he is seeking to minimize that exposure. But what he does not know is that Torston is betrothed and from the message we received today from The Lyceum, his intended has arrived.”
He was pointing to a second missive on the table, much different than the one from Douglas. This one had birds and flowers painted on it and the message spoke of a celebration to welcome Torston de Royans’ betrothed to The Lyceum. It was a very pretty invitation.
Lance picked it up and snorted.
“Torston made no mention that the woman was on her way to The Lyceum,” he said, noting the festive artwork. “I wonder if her visit was planned?”
Winslow shrugged. “I wonder also,” he said. “Torston and I spoke on his betrothal the day of Douglas’ marital offer and he made no mention of his intended coming to The Lyceum.”
“Mayhap it was a surprise.”
“A hell of surprise, I would think.”
Lance wriggled his eyebrows in agreement as he read the carefully scripted letters on the invitation. “De Weese,” he said slowly. “An old family related to the House of de Winter.”
Winslow snorted. “So I saw,” he said. “Why they felt the need to put that in the invitation is beyond me. Nothing like shouting one’s family ties to future friends and allies.”
“Rather arrogant, I’d say.”
As Lance set the invitation down, Winslow picked it up again. “Somehow, I
must tell my daughter of this,” he said, speaking the obvious they had both been trying to avoid. “I cannot imagine she is going to be happy to know that not only is Torston’s betrothed at The Lyceum, but they are throwing a grand party for her.”
Lance cast him a long look. “Nay, I cannot imagine she’ll be happy at all.”
Winslow groaned as he shook his head. “Sometimes I wish I’d never heard the name Torston de Royans. You know that Alyx is not going to take this well.”
Lance did, indeed. “You cannot keep it from her,” he said. “She is either going to hear about it from someone else or Torston himself will tell her. You know the man cannot stay away from Makendon.”
With a lingering look at the invitation, Winslow tossed it aside. “If his betrothed is at The Lyceum, then I am afraid he is going to have to stay away from Makendon and from Alyx,” he said. “It would not be proper for him to be here unless it directly aligns with his duties. You will have to ensure this, Lance. If Torston comes to speak with Alyx, turn him away.”
Lance understood the command. As a father of a young daughter who was also rather enamored with Torston, he understood all too well. But he also knew Torston and knew the man had never been anything but kind and professional to Alyx. Alyx’s attraction to Torston had been an open secret, something known but never really discussed. Unfortunately, that long-standing secret was about to take an unhappy turn.
“You know that Torston has never misled Alyx,” he said quietly. “Your daughter, as pure and virtuous as she is, has done the chasing. Torston did his best to keep her at arm’s length.”
Winslow eyed him. “Alyx is pure and virtuous, indeed, but she is shameless when it comes to Torston,” he said. “I do not blame Torston; he is only human. If a pretty girl throws herself at him constantly, at some point, she will batter down his resistance. But ever since Alyx came of age, something in Torston has changed toward her. If you tell me you cannot see it, then you would be lying to me.”
Lance simply shook his head. “I would not presume to do that, but Torston is not an inappropriate man. He has never given her hope where there was none. He has been clear about his betrothal from the start.”
The Centurion Page 13
