“It is.”
“Then you and I will have to go to the priory and explain the situation.”
Patrick paused again, looking up at his father. “You need not go,” he said. “I got myself into this. It is my peril to face.”
William shook his head. “Nay, lad,” he said quietly. “It is our peril. You are my son and I will not let you face this without me. In fact, I will insist on going. I’ve yet to speak with your mother about this but there is the possibility that she may want to go as well. Remember she deals with Kelso Abbey on a regular basis and she is very involved in feeding the poor and tending the sick. Therefore, she understands the way these institutions work. And she may be able to express to the mother prioress what men cannot.”
Patrick sighed, long and slow. “Now Mother is coming with us?” he said. “I am not entirely sure it is a good idea.”
William lifted his eyebrows. “You cannot stop her if she wants to,” he said. “If she wants to go and we deny her, then she will follow. Trust me, lad – your mother will not be denied.”
Patrick finished fiddling with the strap on the saddle and cinched it up. “I know,” he muttered unhappily, but his manner was softening. “Neither will you. I am sorry if I was rude to you, Da. I was… hurt. Hurt that you did not trust me.”
This was the Patrick that William knew – soft-hearted when it came to his parents, loving and kind. He felt some relief at the man’s apology. “And I am sorry that I became so angry with you,” he said. “You were right – I do understand what it is to love a woman that I cannot have. Obviously, I did not let it stop me. My love for your mother has pulled me through time and space, and continues to do so. Not even death will end it. Therefore, I do understand what you are feeling. I understand it all too well.”
“Then tell me what to do,” Patrick said, his stony expression breaking. There was worry there now. “I fear that I may have lost my perspective. I speak of taking money to Coldingham to buy my bride, but is that the best thing to do? I am due to leave for London in a few days. Mayhap I should seek Henry’s counsel on the matter. He has the power to make it so that the church has to listen.”
William shrugged. “In any case, you must confess to him what has happened so he is not surprised by a missive from Coldingham or, worse, the Bishop of Durham demanding your head,” he said. “I have a feeling that Henry will support you, whatever the case, but it would be much better if we could solve this ourselves. If you are agreeable, then we will ride to Coldingham tomorrow and offer the mother prioress a goodly sum of money in exchange for Bridey. The price of a bride, as it were.”
“Then you believe that is the best course of action?”
“I do.”
Patrick felt better about the situation now. This is the advice and support he had been seeking from the first but his father, who had many people to worry over, had reacted as had been his right – with concern and anger over something that could jeopardize them all.
Now, the situation was far calmer and he was able to think more clearly. Leaving the palfrey standing there half-saddled, Patrick leaned back against the wall next to his father. As the tension of their argument faded, the reality of what was to come settled in. Patrick was going to have to pay for Brighton, and pay handsomely. Not that he minded in the least but he began to tally up what money he had available.
“As for the money,” he said, “I am mostly paid by you, as your garrison commander, and also by Lord de Longley, as your liege, for my servitium debitum. You pay me too much, you know.”
William smiled weakly. “I pay you five pounds a year.”
“De Longley pays me five pounds a year. That is ten pounds every year, an incredible sum.”
“Are you complaining?”
Patrick shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “Because I have saved my money over the past several years. Henry paid me well in the battles against de Montfort, as did his son, Edward. In coinage alone I have over two hundred pounds stashed away, and that is not including what I have been paid in plate or other valuables. Do you think Coldingham would take twenty pounds for the lady? That is more than they could make in ten years.”
William nodded. “It is a very generous offer,” he said. “If the mother prioress refuses, I will double it. Surely she would be foolish to refuse that.”
Patrick felt much better than he had in some time. He and his father were speaking reasonably and rationally, and a plan was now set. He could only pray that the mother prioress would accept the money for Brighton, because truly, only a fool would refuse such a sum. Aye, he was feeling much better – he knew what he had to do and his father was with him.
All was right in the world again.
“Then I suppose we shall leave for Coldingham on the morrow,” he said. “I do not have much time before I must leave for London so there is no time to waste. How long will it take us to reach it? I know approximately where it is but I have never been there.”
William shook his head. “Nor have I,” he said. “But I know it is north of Eyemouth. That is not far from Berwick.”
Patrick agreed. “We must pass through Berwick to travel the road along the ocean north,” he said. “And, Da… I think I should take Bridey back to Berwick. The place is impenetrable and she would be away from Questing. I know you are concerned for Mother and the others with her here, as a target. So if I return her to Berwick, that would alleviate your fear somewhat.”
William heard his own words reflected in his son’s statement, now feeling guilty that he’d said such a thing. It wasn’t as if Coldingham would attack them, although they could raise an army at some point if they wanted to. As part of the Bishopric of Durham, they could call on the bishop’s army. William had only said such things to his son because he hadn’t wanted his family to be put in harm’s way, but it had been selfish of him. He could see that now.
“Leave her here if it makes you feel better,” he said. “She would have your mother, if she chooses not to come with us, and Jemma and your sisters for company. She might feel more comfortable if she remained here.”
“But Berwick is to be her new home. She will have to go back some time.”
“Then I shall leave the decision to you.”
A warm silence settled between the two of them now that the storm had passed and they were on pleasant terms again. Patrick was vastly relieved to have his father’s support once again because the more he thought on it, the more daunting the task seemed. In fact, now that the rush of the impromptu wedding was over, he was coming to grips with what he’d done on a larger scale. In truth, he didn’t much blame his father for becoming so furious with him. He had rather gotten himself into a bit of a situation.
But it was of no matter. He wouldn’t have changed a thing.
“When I first realized I was feeling something for Bridey, I was truly furious at myself,” he muttered. “The appointment with Henry is what I have strived for all of my life and I did not need or want any complications. I kept telling myself that. But now that I am facing what could quite possibly be a terrible complication with the event of my marriage… it is all I can think of. Bridey is all I can think of. Going to London to assume my new post seems secondary in comparison.”
William watched his son as he spoke, the sincerity in the man’s features. A smile crossed his lips. “When I met your mother, I was facing the same thing,” he said quietly. “Henry wanted me in London and I did not want to leave your mother. How odd we find ourselves in such similar circumstances at nearly the same time in our lives. But, unlike you, I had no father to guide me and no massive military empire at my disposal. Certainly, I had the late John de Longley as my mentor and liege, but there were times I felt quite alone in it all.”
Patrick cocked his head curiously. “Even with Uncle Kieran and Uncle Paris to help you?”
William shrugged. “They were mere knights,” he said. “They did not have men sworn to them at the time, so it wasn’t as if I had their armies at my d
isposal. Not like I do now. In that respect, you are in a much better position than I ever was. Have faith, Patrick. We shall overcome.”
It was the first time Patrick had heard his father speak in support of his situation. It made him feel vastly better. “Thank you, Da,” he said sincerely. “That means everything to me.”
“Family above all.”
“Indeed.”
William patted his son on the cheek before pushing himself off of the wall, stretching his body out, as it tended to become stiff these days. His joints weren’t like they used to be. But he paused before leaving.
“Before I forget,” he said. “I know that Kieran struck you earlier. I would consider it a personal favor if you did not go after him to retaliate. You can survive a blow from him but I doubt he could easily survive one from you. Am I making myself clear?”
Patrick laughed softly. “I will not retaliate,” he said, a mischievous twinkle to his eye. “When you see him, tell him I said that my mother slaps harder than he does.”
William snorted. “Poor Kieran,” he said. “We keep telling him that he is a weak old man. Someday, he is going to believe it. There was a time when Kieran was the strongest man I’d ever seen.”
Patrick’s laughing eased. “He still is,” he said. “At least, in my eyes he still is. I always admired him greatly and I still do.”
“Can I tell him that?”
“Nay. Let him think that my mother slaps harder than he does.”
Chuckling, and shaking his head at his cruel son, William left the stable. He was heading for the keep and his wife, who would soon learn that her husband and son were about to leave Questing to head into Scotland.
Patrick, meanwhile, went to unsaddle the palfrey and put the saddle away, at least for the day. He still thought it was a good idea to drop Brighton off at Berwick on their way to Coldingham for the very reasons he gave his father. It was to be her home, after all, and the fortress was impenetrable. He felt very confident having her there, settling into her new life while he went on to Coldingham to buy his bride. Twenty pounds was a lot of money but it didn’t matter; there was no price too high that he wouldn’t pay for his wife.
His wife.
The thought of that lovely woman he married had him grinning like a fool all over again.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Fortunately for Patrick and William, Jordan did not want to go with them to the priory, feeling that she could not genuinely contribute to the solution for Patrick’s situation. She chose, instead, to stay behind and pray for a positive outcome, much to the relief of her husband and son. Penelope, however, was another story. She didn’t want to stay behind. She didn’t want to part with anyone. The three-year-old girl who ruled Castle Questing was in a snit from the very start.
Leaving Castle Questing before sunrise had been difficult because of wailing, sleepy children. Penelope was devastated that Brighton, as well as her father and her playmates, were departing for home. Katheryn and Evelyn had their hands full with fussy children that they bundled up into the carriage. The carriage itself wasn’t all that large – meant to hold four adults – but with the unhappy children, it had three women, an infant, three little boys and one little girl, all of them squirming and crying. The carriage was nearly overflowing.
The only children who weren’t crying were Katheryn’s older boys, who rode their ponies proudly from Questing, being escorted by their grandfather and father. Brighton, Katheryn, and Evelyn each sat with a child in their laps while the other two crowded in on the benches around them.
Jordan and Jemma, very sorry to see their grandchildren and children depart, followed the carriage across the bailey and to the great gatehouse where they were finally forced to stop, waving to the carriage and the knights as they passed through the big gates. Penelope was so distraught she wouldn’t even wave farewell. Brighton could hear Penelope wailing all the way down the hill to the road below.
It was another glorious summer morning as the sun rose over the dew-kissed fields, advancing majestically over the land. The war horses were excited, feeding off of each other as the knights and the one hundred men Patrick had brought with him headed out on the road, eastward bound for Berwick. William was astride his big silver beast, hanging back by the carriage and his mounted grandsons, as Alec took point and Hector brought up the rear.
The de Wolfe pack was on the move.
With Kevin and Apollo having ridden on to Northwood Castle the day before, the group was down one knight and Patrick remained fluid, moving up and down the column, stopping on more than one occasion to check in on his wife as she sat with little Lisbet on her lap. Not normally distracted by a carriage carrying women, that had markedly changed. He was very distracted by the carriage and everyone knew it. He would wink at his wife in the carriage and she would wink back.
But it was a good distraction. There was such joy in Brighton’s heart at the sight of him, winking at him and waving to him as he would stop by. To her, he seemed much happier today than he had yesterday, which had been a day of turmoil mostly. Their return from Wooler to Castle Questing had been wrought with tension. No matter how much Patrick tried to reassure Brighton that all would be well, she was still fretful, terrified of how William and Jordan would react. Her fear was well-founded, for Patrick and his father had argued most of the morning only to come to a fragile peace by the afternoon. Brighton had remained in the family’s chambers upstairs, playing with Penelope and praying for a good outcome.
Fortunately, someone had listened to her prayers.
When the yelling and arguing was over, William and Patrick had come up with a plan to deal with Coldingham and now they were heading back to Berwick to drop off the women before Patrick and his father continued north to compensate the priory for a loss of a postulate. Brighton had been surprised to hear of the missive where Mother Prioress demanded her return but she was confident, much as Patrick and William were, that the woman would accept monetary compensation for the cost of a bride.
At least, that was her hope.
She truly didn’t know why Mother Prioress would have demanded her return unless the woman felt fear for her young charge. She had asked to go with Patrick back to Coldingham because she wasn’t entirely certain that Patrick alone could convince Mother Prioress that he’d not forced the lady into marriage, but Patrick had denied her, assuring her that between he and his father, the mother prioress would understand that this had not been a forced marriage. Still, the doubt lingered in Brighton’s mind. She sincerely hoped she was wrong.
As she tried not to fret about it, the trip back to Berwick was uneventful and they reached Berwick in very good time. It was still daylight, with the sun laying low on the western horizon. The children inside the carriage were restless, having spent all day traveling. The women in the carriage were more than eager to release the throng so they could run off their pent-up energy.
Through the gatehouse, across the bridge that spanned the chasm, and into the vast bailey the carriage lurched, and Katheryn wasted no time in throwing open the door and exiting the cab. Her youngest, Christoph, was grumpy and whining as she pulled him out, followed by Evelyn carrying her infant, helping Atreus and Hermes from the carriage as Brighton climbed out last, carrying little Lisbet.
The men were being disbanded as the children began to run about, looking for their fathers, chasing each other and generally blowing off several hours of being cramped inside a carriage. Only the young girls seemed not to want to join their brothers as Evelyn and Brighton carried them towards the keep.
Even though Brighton had little Lisbet in her arms, she kept searching for Patrick, spying him in the midst of the men who were disbanding, dismounting his charger and handing him off to a soldier. William was with him, the two of them standing in the middle of the enormous bailey in conversation. But something must have told Patrick that Brighton was looking at him, some innate sense, because he turned to her, now on the steps of the keep, and waved at her. Satisfied
that he had acknowledged her, Brighton followed Evelyn and Katheryn into the keep.
“This is now your castle, Bridey,” Katheryn said as they entered the tall foyer and she began removing the leather gloves she had been wearing. “Evie and I will take our orders from you now. Preparations for the evening meal should already be underway but you may want to see to them; would you like Evie and I to do that for you?”
Brighton grinned; Katheryn was being most diplomatic about the fact that she was now replaced as chatelaine. She was being just as kind as she could possibly be about it.
“I-I would appreciate that,” she said. “Mayhap you would even let me come along as you go about your tasks?”
Katheryn returned her smile. “Come and supervise us,” she said. “See how we do things to ensure it is the way you want them done.”
Brighton nodded eagerly. “I-in truth, I never learned how to run a house and hold,” she confessed. “That was not something we were taught at Coldingham. This will all be very new to me.”
Katheryn patted her on the shoulder. “It will be nothing at all,” she said. “You will learn all of this very quickly and Evie and I will help you. In fact, it is good to have three of us to manage this monstrous place. It is too much for one or two people.”
Brighton was relieved to hear that. She hadn’t really considered the fact that she would now be expected to administer the household, as Patrick’s wife. With everything else they’d had to deal with, it was down on her list of priorities but it was probably more intimidating to her than anything else about this new life she’d embarked upon. To be in charge of this vast fortress was daunting. She was grateful for the kindness of Patrick’s sisters.
“M-mayhap we can divide the duties,” she suggested. “That is what we did at Coldingham. As I told you, I tended the garden and worked in the kitchen. I know a great deal about kitchens and stores.”
Nunnery Brides: A Medieval Romance Collection Page 50
