Lysabel was looking at her mother, greatly distressed. “Of course not,” she said tightly. “But why can I not be happy, Mama? Why can I not be with a man of my choosing?”
Alixandrea leaned forward, kissing her daughter on the forehead. “You can be happy with a man of your choosing,” she said. “But not this man. He is already taken, sweetheart. You must do what is right, for all of us.”
With that, she squeezed her daughter’s hand and stood up, smiling gently at her as she walked away, heading back to her granddaughters who were still fighting over the pink flowers. But one word from Alixandrea stopped them and, together, they followed her from the garden with a servant in tow.
Lysabel watched her daughters and her mother leave, her mind still lingering on what her mother had said. The woman had a way of putting things that made sense, even if Lysabel didn’t want to accept it. She really couldn’t argue with the logic because everything her mother said was true. Her decision to go with Trenton was a decision that would affect them all. Her father had tried to tell her that, but she didn’t want to listen. She had accused him of being selfish when the truth was that she was the selfish one.
It wasn’t only her life she would be ruining, but her entire family’s lives.
Oh, God… must I really give Trenton up?
Lysabel hung her head, thinking of Trenton, of the life she wanted with him so badly. She could feel it slipping away, this idea of a perfect world where Trenton and her daughters were the center of it. A world of ponies and babies and joy and love… did she really have to give it all up? Had she been living in a fool’s paradise, after all?
The mere thought was making her sick.
Lysabel lost track of time as she sat there, pondering the situation. The servants who had been tending to the flowers had moved to the other end of the garden, pruning and cutting, but still she sat, mourning for the life she so badly wanted. As she sat there, staring at the dirt, she heard the gate next to her open.
Casually, she turned to see Ranse de Troyes entering the garden. He spied her immediately since she was sitting so close to the garden gate and he smiled politely when their eyes met.
“My lady,” he greeted. “I do not mean to disturb you, but I was looking for Lady Cynethryn and Lady Brencis.”
Lysabel pointed to the southern gate. “My mother took them out of the garden that way,” she said. “They left a little while ago. Why? Is there something I can help you with?”
His smile grew. “I found two ponies they can ride,” he said proudly. “I heard how disappointed they were when their own ponies came up lame, so I searched the village and found two very nice ponies that they are welcome to ride.”
Lysabel had to grin at him. “But they already have two ponies,” she said. “Now they need two more?”
He shrugged. “It is only a loan,” he said. “They can ride the ponies until their animals heal. They have been having such fun with them that it is a shame to see them so disappointed.”
Lysabel laughed softly. “You are a tender heart,” she said. “You must have children of your own if you are so sympathetic to them.”
He shook his head. “I do not,” he said, his smile fading. “At least, not a living child. My wife died in childbirth last year along with my daughter.”
Lysabel’s smile vanished. “I am so very sorry,” she said sincerely. “I did not know. I have not been to Wellesbourne in a few years, but the last time I was here, I am not sure if you were serving my father yet or not. Forgive me for not remembering.”
He waved her off, his manner easy going. “Not to worry, Lady de Wilde,” he said. “I do not expect you to remember every knight under your father’s command. I came into your father’s service six years ago, and I believe you have come to visit Wellesbourne once during that time, but we have not been formally introduced. I am Ransom de Troyes, your father’s captain.”
Lysabel nodded politely, eyeing the tall man, with long, muscular arms and legs, and blond hair to his shoulders. He was a handsome man and seemingly quite friendly. She’d seen him around since her arrival, especially in the feasting hall, but she didn’t know his name. It simply hadn’t come up.
“And how do you like serving my father, de Troyes?” she asked.
His grin was back. “I like it a great deal,” he said. “The White Lord is a fair and decent man. It has been my honor to serve him.”
“Thank you.”
“May I inquire to the health of your husband, Lord Benoit?”
It was an innocent and socially polite question, but one that gave Lysabel pause. It reminded her that no one, save her father and mother, Trenton, and Markus knew that Benoit was dead.
She proceeded carefully.
“He is away,” she said, avoiding the question and heading for the garden gate where her mother had disappeared with her children. “If you will excuse me, I must find my daughters and if they behave themselves, they may be worthy of the ponies you have procured for them. It really was quite kind of you to do that.”
Ranse watched her as she walked away. “It was my pleasure, Lady de Wilde,” he said. “The ponies are in the stables when they are ready. Since Lord de Russe is no longer here, I will be pleased to watch over your daughters myself if you wish.”
Lysabel forced a smile. “Your offer is very generous,” she said. “I would say that it is not necessary because Willie will watch over them, but knowing my brother, he would try to steal the ponies out from under them. Mayhap you would be good enough to supervise Willie while he supervises my daughters.”
Ranse laughed quietly, knowing what she said wasn’t far from the truth. Sometimes William Wellesbourne was more of a child than most children he knew. Lysabel gave him a polite wave as she quickly disappeared from the garden, leaving Ranse looking after her, pondering the lovely Wellesbourne daughter for a moment before leaving the garden the way he’d come.
“Cissy and Cinny want to know if you will take them riding again, Matt, and… what on earth are you looking at?”
Alixandrea had entered her husband’s solar, having left her grandchildren with the cook, who was supplying the children with the most marvelous candied grapes. But the lure of candied grapes wasn’t strong enough to deter their desires to ride ponies again, which was the predominant theme with the pair, so Alixandrea dutifully sought out her husband to ask his permission and participation.
She found him in his solar, looking most curiously from the lancet window that overlooked Audrey’s garden. He didn’t even hear her when she entered, nor did he turn to her when she started to speak, which was why Alixandrea asked him what had his attention. Matthew pointed from the window.
“Lysabel,” he said. “I have been watching her for quite some time. I saw you talk to her. What did you say?”
Alixandrea came to stand next to him, looking from the window to see her daughter speaking with Ranse de Troyes. She avoided her husband’s question.
“What is Ranse doing there?” she asked.
Matthew shook his head. “I do not know,” he said. “He came into the garden a few moments ago and started talking to her. Did you speak to her about Trenton?”
Alixandrea sighed; he wasn’t going to let the subject go. “I did,” she said. “I told her what you told her, I am sure. I told her that although I understand her affection for Trenton, he is not the man for her. I believe that I have given her much to think about.”
Matthew continued watching the pair in the garden as they conversed. “Lysabel, as always, will do what Lysabel wants to do,” he said. “She was stubborn as a child and she is still stubborn.”
“She takes after you.”
Matthew turned to look at her with a grin. “Is that so?” he said. “You are a cheeky wench.”
She laughed softly. “That is your misfortune,” she said. Quickly, she sobered, watching her daughter stand up from the bench as she and de Troyes continued speaking. “I think you must give your daughter some time to come to terms wit
h what her life has become. For her sake, and for yours, do not speak to her on Trenton again. Let me handle it from now on. She may be more apt to take my advice. I have some experience handling stubborn people.”
Matthew chuckled, his focus returning to the garden where it appeared that the conversation between his daughter and Ranse was starting to break up.
“De Troyes is a good man,” he said. “We are fortunate to have him here.”
Alixandrea nodded. “He is,” she said. “My heart is still broken over the death of his wife last year. They were both so excited for that baby.”
Matthew nodded. “He was an excellent husband to Lady Maribel,” he said. “He was quite kind and attentive to her. They were inseparable.”
“I know.”
At that moment, Lysabel departed from the garden, leaving de Troyes standing there, watching her go. Matthew’s gaze lingered on the man for a moment as de Troyes watched Lysabel.
A thought occurred to him.
“Ranse is the kind of man that Lysabel needs,” he said. “Sometimes the best medicine for a broken heart is to find something, or someone, to mend it.”
Alixandrea looked at him rather strangely. “Lysabel? And Ranse?”
Matthew shrugged. “Why not?” he said. “They are nearly the same age, and we know what kind of man Ranse is. I would have no reservation betrothing my daughter to him.”
Alixandrea hadn’t considered Ranse as a possibility, but she realized he wasn’t a bad candidate in the least. “Nor would I,” she said. “But the pain of losing Trenton is still fresh with Lys. Mayhap you should wait before you put another man in her life.”
Matthew’s expression hardened. “And wait for Trenton to come back and steal her away?” He shook his head. “I will not wait. Although I asked Trenton to stay away, I do not believe for one moment that he really will. I fully expect him to return, and if Lysabel is betrothed or even married again, then Ranse will stand between Trenton and Lysabel. It is protection that Trenton cannot ignore.”
Alixandrea pondered that scenario a moment before shaking her head. “Trenton is a killer,” she said quietly. “You have said so yourself. He may very well kill Ranse to get at Lysabel. Do you really want to put Ranse in that kind of a position? It is not fair to him.”
Matthew knew that, but he also wasn’t willing to leave his daughter’s future to fate, especially where Trenton de Russe was concerned. Ranse de Troyes would make a fine husband for her, but more than that, he was determined to put a wall between Trenton’s wants and his daughter’s life.
“I cannot imagine that Trenton would kill an honorable knight, a man who is legally Lysabel’s husband,” he said. “I would like to believe he would do the chivalrous thing and walk away. In any case, Lysabel must marry again, and Ranse is without a wife. I believe it will be a good match.”
He sounded as if he was trying to talk himself into it. Alixandrea didn’t respond; she’d already said everything she needed to say. Matthew’s suggestion wasn’t a bad one, but the timing wasn’t ideal because Lysabel still felt strongly for Trenton, and surely Trenton still felt strongly for her. To put another man in the middle of the equation was risky at best, but she knew that Matthew was doing what he felt was best for their daughter.
Unfortunately, Alixandrea wasn’t quite so sure.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Deverill Castle
The morning after Trenton’s arrival to Deverill found him outside just after dawn, standing near the soldier barracks and watching Cort and Dane run new soldiers through a drill.
Deverill was a troop training center for crown troops, as well as Warminster troops, as Gaston had always been a trainer of men for the crown and that hadn’t changed from one king to the next. The House of de Russe, historically, had a very close connection to the crown, and Gaston for the sheer length of his experience, was a trusted advisor to the king in military matters. When it came to Trenton, however, Henry didn’t much care what Gaston thought of the capacity Trenton served in. Henry did as Henry wanted to do, and that was simply the way of things.
Trenton had grown up around training grounds, so watching Dane and Cort put the troops through their paces brought back many fond memories. Long ago, when he’d been quite young, he remembered his father’s dear friend and general, Arik Helgeson, a tall, Viking-looking knight who had been one of the best trainers in England. The man had lost his life in an ambush years ago, something that Gaston had never quite overcome, and watching his brothers with the soldiers reminded Trenton very much of Arik and days gone by.
He’d missed them.
So, he stood on the edge of the field, waving at Cort when the man lifted a hand to him, and trying not to think of the very reason why he’d come to Deverill. He’d hardly slept the night before, with thoughts of Lysabel heavy on his mind, so he’d come to the training field to distract himself. He hadn’t seen his father yet this morning, but he was certain that he would soon. His father had always been an industrious early riser. He didn’t want to press the man about is plans to visit Wellesbourne, but that was certainly on his mind.
Over to his right, his brother, Dane, was bellowing out commands like a good drill sergeant, something that made Trenton smile. His gaze drifted over his brother; while Trenton had Gaston’s enormous size and dark coloring, Dane took after his long-dead father for the most part. He was average in height, very well built, with his mother’s eye color and a crown of cropped, blond hair. He was quite handsome, as Trenton had acknowledged when Lysabel told him that she’d dreamt of Dane in her youth. But more than that, Dane simply had something that women found irresistible.
Trenton often wished he’d had his brother’s charisma. Ever since they were children, it was Dane who had taken charge of things and Dane who had been the brains of any operation. Trenton had never met a smarter man in his life. Trenton had been more of a follower in their youth, with Dane leading the charge and Trenton being the muscle. Trenton often missed those carefree days of youth with his cohort in crime, Dane.
Even now, his brother saw him lingering by the edge of the field. While Cort had simply waved to him, Dane turned command over to the nearest sergeant and headed in Trenton’s direction. The brothers saw each other as often as they could, but it had been a long while since they’d last spoken. Trenton smiled as Dane ran up to him.
“So you are up early, are you?” Dane said. “Since you serve the king these days, I thought you might be a man of leisure. Up all night and sleeping all day, as it were.”
Trenton snorted. “A lot you know,” he said. “I’m risking my life every second of every day while you spend your time screaming at frightened men.”
Dane laughed, revealing a toothy smile that looked very much like his mother’s. “That is because they need to be screamed at,” he said. “I realize you are an important man, but those of us without a dukedom to inherit must work for our daily bread.”
Trenton simply shook his head. “You are no pauper,” he said. “Da told me that he’s moving you to Blackmore Castle on the Welsh Marches. A prestigious post, Brother.”
Dane nodded. “It is,” he said proudly. “You shall address me as Lord Blackmore from now on.”
“Does that make you feel important, little man?”
Dane started laughing. “I must keep up with you, after all. Someday, you will be the duke and I shall be your lowly advisor.”
“Advisor? Who told you that?”
“Me,” Dane said, incensed. “I have no idea how you have survived this long without me. You will need my wisdom when Warminster becomes yours.”
Trenton chuckled, his affectionate gaze on his brother. “That is true,” he said, sobering. “I have missed you. With the great reunion last night with the family, you and I have not yet had a chance to talk, just the two of us.”
Dane’s smile faded. It was the first time the two of them had been alone since Trenton’s arrival, and being the nosy and concerned brother he was, Dane had a million que
stions for him.
“I assumed you came here for an important reason,” he said. “Shall we go for a walk?”
“Indeed.”
Turning away from the training field, Dane and Trenton began to walk. It was like days of old, when it was just the two of them, and the bond that formed those years ago was something that had only gotten stronger over the years. Leaving the training area completely, they headed towards the main area of the bailey.
Deverill Castle had a massive outer wall that was nearly eight feet thick and the bailey had been a vast, oblong-shaped yard at one time that had been divided into sections by walls that Gaston had commissioned when he inherited the place. Portions of the castle were actually built into the wall, creating something of a mammoth structure that dominated the countryside for miles in every direction.
It was a grand structure. Trenton found himself looking at the pale gray walls, made from limestone that had been locally quarried. He was waiting for Dane to speak, because he could sense the man’s curiosity and concern. As they neared an area that wasn’t heavily populated with men, Dane finally broke the silence.
“Now,” he said, “will you tell me what has brought you back to Deverill after six long years?”
Trenton sighed pensively. “A woman,” he said simply. “Rather than get into a long, drawn-out story, suffice it to say that I have fallen in love with a woman.”
Dane’s brow furrowed in shock as he looked at him. “What?” he hissed. “What woman?”
There was a crowd of men up ahead and Trenton came to a halt, turning to face Dane where they still had some privacy.
“In July, Henry tasked me with abducting a rival who had been a thorn in his side,” he said. “To make a long story short, I was sent to Stretford Castle. Do you know it?”
Dane blinked as if startled. “That is de Wilde’s home.”
Trenton nodded shortly. “Aye,” he said. “Upon entering the grounds, I could hear a woman screaming and when we breached the house and located our target, we realized that the screaming had been coming from de Wilde’s wife as he beat her. His wife turned out to be Lysabel Wellesbourne.”
Dark Moon (The de Russe Legacy Book 6) Page 22
