The Falls of Erith (12 page)

***

Braxton
figured out where all of the furnishings, beds, linens or other comforts in
Erith were kept. Upon entering Lady de Montfort’s chamber on the fourth floor
of the keep, it looked like a storage room. There were items everywhere. It was
rather a shock considering the sparse furnishings of the rest of Erith. It
immediately occurred to him that Lady de Montfort refused to give up anything
she believed herself entitled to, no matter what matter of poverty her daughter
and granddaughter lived in. Though the stuff lining her chamber was worn, it
had once been very fine. She needed her possessions to maintain the illusion
that poverty had not yet touched her. It made Braxton dislike the lady all the
more.

Lady
de Montfort sat in a chair near the lancet window, a piece of embroidery in her
hand.  It wasn’t a very nice square of material, old and yellowed, but the work
on it was exquisite. Braxton glanced at the piece as the woman laid it in her
lap, fighting off building resentment for two reasons; Gray had told him she
did not know any leisurely skills, which meant her mother had not seen fit to
teach her. Secondly, by the look of the work, it had taken many, many hours to
do. This meant that while Gray was blistering her hands with harsh work, her
mother was wiling away the hours with dainty hobbies.  It was a struggle to
keep his rage at bay.

“Sir
Braxton,” Constance greeted him evenly. “To what do I owe the honor of your
visit?”

Braxton
stood near the door, keeping a rein on his patience. “You and I have something
to discuss, my lady.”

Constance
lifted her eyebrows. “I cannot imagine what that is, unless you seek my advice
on something. What is your wish?”

Haughty
till the end
, he
thought. “I do not seek your advice nor counsel, madam. But I believe we may
have a situation arising that could or could not be of your doing.”

“What
is that?”

He
shifted on his big legs, folding muscular arms over his chest. “Brooke has told
me that you have sent out solicitations for her hand in marriage, unbeknownst
to her mother. Is this true?”

Constance’s
thin face tightened. “What business is it of yours?”

“More
than you know. Did you do this?”

As
shrewd as Constance was, Braxton was doubly.  But the older woman would not
allow herself to be cornered. “This is none of your affair, Sir Braxton. You
will kindly leave my chamber.”

He
lifted an eyebrow. “I am not going anywhere until you answer the question.”

So
he could not be ordered around. Constance rethought her strategy. “If it is?”

“Then
we have a party approaching Erith at this moment who, I suspect, might be
coming in response to your offer. If that is the case, your daughter is going
to discover the truth.”

Constance
stood up. “Where is my daughter?”

“In
the solar.”

The
woman grabbed her shawl and swung it over her slender shoulders, making way for
the door. Braxton waited until she had passed him before speaking.

“You
do not own the rights to Brooke’s hand, my lady.”

She
paused, hand on the door latch. “Your statement is not only rude, it is
insolent.”

His
blue-green eyes were hard, like blades of sharpened steel. “Perhaps,” his voice
lowered. “But it is the truth. Listen to me now and understand what I am
saying. You do not own the rights to Brooke’s hand. I do. I bought them from a
man who had acquired them from Garber Serroux in payment for a gambling debt.”

He
could see from the expression on the woman’s face that she was rattled.  She
instinctively clutched her shawl more tightly about her.

“So
you are here to claim Brooke?” For the first time, the confidence was out of
her tone. “Why did you just not say so?”

“I
am not here to claim Brooke,” Braxton clarified. “But she, and Erith, belongs
to me.”

Constance’s
expression turned suspicious. “You have no proof of this.”

“I
have a document signed by Neil Wenvoe that relinquishes his claim to Brooke
Serroux and Erith to me for the sum of thirty thousand gold marks.  These
rights were given to Wenvoe to forgive a debt incurred by Garber Serroux.”

Constance
attempted to maintain her defensive stance. God knows she did. But Braxton
watched all of the fight drain out of her, for the very first time since he had
met her.  When she realized he would not be withered by her stare, she averted
her gaze.

“I
see,” she murmured. “Does Gray know any of this?”

He
felt himself relent, if only just a little. “Nay,” he replied. “Though I do
mean to tell her.”

“When?”

“I
am not sure. She is only now learning to trust me. I am afraid that divulging
something like this will cause her to think I have had ulterior motives from
the beginning.”

Constance
cast him a long glance. “Have you?”

He
shook his head, slowly. “I only acquired these rights three days ago when I
went to Wenvoe to fulfill a long-standing contract.” He paused, watching the
shift of her fine features. “Wenvoe wanted to hire me to lay siege to Erith and
claim the rights that Garber had promised him. It seems that Wenvoe was aware
you were soliciting offers the girl’s hand and he felt compelled to press his
claim. So I bought the claim from him.”

Constance’s
amber eyes studied him. “Why did you do this?”

Now
it was Braxton’s turn to waver in confidence. “Because I could not lay siege to
Gray’s fortress,” he said simply. “In case you have not realized it, I am fond
of your daughter, Lady de Montfort. I could not hurt her.”

“But
now you own her daughter and Erith. What will you do?”

“Give
it back to Gray.”

Constance
reclaimed her chair, a defeated look on her face. It seemed that there was
nothing left to fight for.  “I would see this document you speak of, knight.”

“You
shall.”

“Then
what will you do about the approaching party?”

“That
is your problem. I suggest you tell your daughter immediately what you have done.”

The
older woman’s features tightened again. “It is not simply my problem. You own
the rights to Brooke, so in essence, you have the final say in determining who
she will marry, not Gray. She will not take this well at all. I would suggest
we both go tell her what has happened.”

He
still did not want to tell Gray about the contract from Wenvoe. He felt very
strongly that it might ruin the sweet beginnings they were experiencing. But
the longer he waited, the harder it would be.  With reluctance, he nodded to
the older woman’s suggestion.

Together,
they left the chamber in silence to seek out Gray.

***

For
some reason, Gray was nowhere to be found. The women sewing garments in the
solar said she had left some time before but they had no knowledge of where she
went.  While Constance went to check her bedchamber, Braxton went out into the
kitchen yard.

There
were a few men working on the collapse oven, now almost completely rebuilt.
Braxton did not see her anywhere in the kitchen area and moved out towards the
stables.  There were several laborers working to restore a damaged section and
also to build an addition.  Additionally, they were framing the stable for
several more stalls and a loft.  Braxton checked the chicken coop and, on a
whim, entered the part of the stables that the men were not working on.  It was
empty.

He
turned to leave and almost ran over Brooke. She was standing behind him, her
round face smiling up at him.  He reached out to steady her as he bumped into
her.

“My
lady,” he said. “My apologies. I did not see you.”

“I
know,” she replied. “I followed you in here.”

“Why?”

“Because
I want to talk to you.”

“I
see,” he casually stepped away from her, leaning against the nearest post.
“What is so important?”

Brooke
took a step towards him, closing the gap he had so carefully established.
“Well… it is hard to describe.”

“What
is hard to describe?”

She
tilted her head, looking thoughtful. “Me. And you.”

He
didn’t particularly like the sound of that. “What about me and you?”

She
took another step, ending up very close to him. “You do not have to pretend any
longer. I can see it in your eyes.”

“See
what?”

“What
you feel for me, of course.” She was suddenly pressed against him, her hands on
his big arm. “I saw it the first day we met, Braxton. I felt it when you saved
my life.  Oh, I know you told my grandmother that you had no intention of
marrying, but why else would you come back to Erith with gifts? I know it is
because you are interested in me.”

He
moved away from the post, trying to put some distance between him and her.  “My
lady,” he said evenly. “What I told your grandmother is was true. Though I am
flattered, I clearly have no intentions towards you.”

She
was following him. “You do not have to pretend any longer, darling. I would be
most pleased to call you husband. I am young and strong and can bear you many
strong sons.”

Braxton
was backing out of the stable.  Brooke threw herself forward, her arms wrapped
around his neck like a noose.

“You
must control yourself,” he said sternly, trying to pry her arms off of him.
“This is not appropriate behavior for a young woman.”

“Kiss
me,” Brooke begged, making sucking noises with her lips and aiming for his
mouth.  “Kiss me, my darling. I know you want to.”

She
was strong for a young girl. Braxton was trying to pull her off of him but he
didn’t want to hurt her.  “Let go, Brooke.”

“I
will not. You want me. Kiss me!”

Off
to his right he heard a strange noise, something that sounded like a gasp. By
the time he turned around, Gray was marching up on the two of them with some
kind of farm implement in her hand. Braxton’s hands were trying to restrain
Brooke and he was unable to defend himself when Gray swung the wooden stick at
his head. 

Stars
burst before his vision and he fell onto his back, hovering between
consciousness and unconsciousness.  Stunned but not senseless, he rolled to his
left, away from the second strike that landed very close to him. He could hear
Brooke screaming.

“Mama!”
she shrieked. “No!”

“You…
you beast,” Gray swung the wooden implement one last time, missing him by a
wide margin.  As Braxton struggled to get to his feet, she wielded the
pitchfork like a weapon. “Braxton de Nerra, you are a despicable, horrid
creature and I want you out of here. Take your gifts and your food and leave my
fortress immediately.”

His
ears were ringing and the world rocked.  As his vision cleared, he saw Brooke’s
fearful face, Gray’s angry one, and Constance standing just behind her
daughter.  For some reason, he found himself focused on the old woman. He did
not like the expression on her face.  But his attention moved back to Gray.

“My
lady,” he said. “You are gravely mistaken if you think.…”

“Stop
it,” she hissed at him. “I will hear no more from you. I trusted you and you
lied to me.”

“What?”

Gray
kept the pitchfork between them. “My mother told me what you did.” She was
suddenly bordering on tears; he could see it in her face. “How could you do
that?”

He
had no idea what she was talking about, but his gaze moved back to Constance.
He has a suspicion that whatever Gray was thinking came from her mother. A dark
wave of realization swept him.

“What
did I do, Gray?” he asked softly. “What are you talking about?”

Tears
welled in her eyes. She looked so very hurt.  Behind her, Constance stood cold
and silent. Damn the woman; he knew something awful had come from her lips.

“The
contract,” Gray almost whispered. “My mother told me. Do not try to deny it. 
That is why you went to Wenvoe, to buy my daughter and my castle.”

“I
bought the contract because Wenvoe wanted me to lay siege to Erith to claim
both the castle and your daughter. I bought it to spare you. Did you not know
that your husband had promised him both Brooke and the fortress in payment for
his debt to Wenvoe?”

“I
did,” she said hoarsely. “But Wenvoe promised he had no interest in either. He
said he would not hold Brooke or I responsible for Garber’s disgrace.”

“He
had no interest until your mother started sending out invitations to vie for
Brooke’s hand.”

“Do
not listen to him, Gray,” Constance entered the conversation. “He has been
plotting since the beginning. He owns Brooke, and he owns Erith. He has been
sending out solicitations of marriage to sell off your daughter and the
castle.”