The Falls of Erith (43 page)

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Authors: Kathryn le Veque

BOOK: The Falls of Erith
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He
fondled her pert and perfect breast gently. “And I have missed you,” he
murmured.  “In fact, there is something you should know.”

She
closed her eyes as he began to play with a taut nipple. “What is that?”

“You
have my heart, Brooke.”

She
paused in her pleasure, opening her eyes to look at him.  Her expression
morphed into one of surprise.

“I
do?” she asked, amazed.

He
nodded, smiling at her reaction. “You do,” he whispered. “I love you very
much.”

She
stared at him. Then, the most miraculous smile came over her lips and she threw
her arms around his neck, enthusiastically strangling him.  “Oh, Dallas,” she
murmured. “I love you also. I love you more than anything.”

He
laughed low in his throat, holding her close. There wasn’t much more he could
say at that point so he let his body do the talking for him. He made love to
her once more, every move and every sensation infused with the deep love they felt
for one another. Dallas had never been happier or more content, knowing he
shared something with Brooke that few people ever experienced in their
lifetime. He felt blessed. But he refused to think on the upcoming separation,
knowing it would probably hurt him more than it hurt her. Already, it was
killing him. 

Exhausted,
content, he fell into a deep sleep next to his wife.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN

 

“Your
father is less than a day behind me, my lord,” de Aughton said. “He told me to
tell you that Northumberland has sent him to discover the truth about your
association with Lady Gray.”

Seated
across from de Aughton at the table in the banqueting hall, Braxton’s eyebrows
slowly lifted. “Association?”

Niclas’s
black eyes flickered; for a moment, he looked uncomfortable. “A missive was
delivered to your father from Lord de Vesci on behalf of the Lady Constance
Gray de Montfort.  Apparently, Lady de Montfort feels that her daughter is with
you against your will and has asked Lord de Vesci to intervene.  Your father
rides to Erith to sort out the situation.”

Braxton,
exhausted as he was, found that he wasn’t as in control of his emotions as he
usually was.  He scowled at de Aughton.

“That
is madness,” he hissed, wiping both hands over his face as the news sank in. 
“I exiled the woman from Erith and somehow she has made her way back to her
family in Northumberland, now to spread more lies about me.”

De
Aughton wasn’t privy to the politics that had gone on between Lady Constance
and Braxton and was unsure how to reply.

“De
Vesci is very concerned, apparently; enough to send your father to
investigate.”

Braxton
just looked at him, sighing heavily. “Lady Constance is a cunning liar and a
grand opportunist,” he snapped softly. “That woman has been seeking to destroy
me since nearly the moment I met Gray.”

Niclas
could see the man was genuinely upset. “I told your father that, from what I
witnessed, Lady Gray was not with you against her will,” he wriggled his
eyebrows. “I can attest to the fact that she will not be separated from you and
I sincerely doubt it is because she is afraid of you or being held hostage.”

In
the midst of his outrage, Braxton saw humor in the statement.  Whereas before
he would not let himself succumb to any emotion in front of Niclas, now, he
wasn’t so careful about it. There was no reason to be.  He eventually shook his
head as if baffled by the entire circumstance.

“Gray
and I married because we love one another,” he said simply. “Gray’s mother has
been trying to sell off her granddaughter to the highest bidder since the girl
came of marriageable age and she is furious that I interrupted her plans by
marrying Brooke to one of my knights.  That old bitch has been trying my
patience since the moment I met her; all of the chaos you saw out in the
bailey, the battle scars and damage, are because of her.”

De
Aughton toyed with his cup of wine, a better quality product since Braxton and
his money had overtaken the keep.

“I
saw an army camped about three miles to the east,” he said quietly. “I would
assume they are your antagonists?”

Braxton
nodded faintly. “They are,” he looked at de Aughton and thought the man might
deserve some explanation. “It is Roger de Clare’s army. They are awaiting
reinforcements from Gloucester.”

Niclas’
eyebrows lifted. “Gloucester?” he repeated, incredulous. “Why on earth are they
harassing you?”

Braxton
took a swallow of the Spanish Port wine. “Because Gray’s mother sent a missive
to them promising Brooke’s hand in marriage, only Brooke was already married by
the time they arrived here to negotiate the contract,” he sighed, glancing
around the walls of the great old hall. “In the confusion surrounding that,
Roger and his heir were accidentally killed.  Gloucester is understandably
upset about it and, I would assume, is planning on razing Erith in punishment.”

Niclas
understood a great deal in that quiet explanation.  Braxton seemed angry more
than anything, a fury to which he was indeed entitled. It was an extremely
serious matter. But it also brought up another serious issue, one he was
hesitant to mention but felt, for the sake of them both, that he must.

“Gloucester
and Northumberland are allies,” Niclas’voice was quiet, hesitant. “Your father
serves Northumberland. If he is ordered to support Gloucester, then we have a problem
on our hands.”

Braxton
looked at him. “”My father is sworn to Northumberland but I doubt that it will
supersede family ties, and at such time we will indeed have a problem because I
am sure my father will support me.  It is therefore my father with the problem
and not me.”

De
Aughton understood that completely. “May I offer advice, my lord?”

Braxton
lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. “Please.”

Niclas
set down the cup, his obsidian eyes intense. “Remove Lady Gray and her daughter
from Erith immediately,” he said. “The longer you delay, the more chance there
will be that you will never be able to remove them from Erith.  If Gloucester
returns with reinforcements as you have said, then your wife and her daughter
will be in mortal danger.  I am not sure how your father is going to react to
all of this so it is better to remove the women. We could have a bloodbath on
our hands with all of these politics converging.”

Braxton
nodded slowly, finishing off his wine. “I realize that,” he said. “And I have already
made plans to remove them.  In fact, they will be vacated from the castle
before the day is through.”

Niclas
nodded, in complete agreement. “Where are you sending them?”

Braxton
wriggled his eyebrows. “You should know that my wife is an exceptionally
stubborn woman,” he said. “She does not want to leave Erith no matter how much
I plead or threaten, so I resorted to bribery. I am sending her to Lancaster
with promises of shopping trips and luxurious accommodations.”

Niclas’
brow furrowed. “You are sending her to the city?”

“Aye.”
Braxton noticed an expression of doubt on Niclas’ face. “And why not?”

Niclas
realized that Braxton had deciphered his slightly confused countenance and
hastened to recover. He didn’t want to seem critical or superior. “I would
assume she is staying some place fortified?”

Braxton
shook his head. “A very luxurious inn where her every whim will be catered to.
I fear it is the only way I could convince her to leave, mostly because her
daughter very much wants to go there.  If Brooke goes, then Gray will follow.”

Niclas
stared at him a moment before shaking his head and averting his gaze. It was
clear he disapproved.  Braxton caught on and he leaned forward on the table.

“Why
do you look so? You disagree?”

Niclas
shook his head. Then he shrugged. “In my humble opinion, if Gloucester tracks
her to such a place, there will be no protection for her at all. They will be
able to take her without a fight and you will find yourself at their mercy.”

Braxton
lifted an eyebrow. “I realize that,” he said. “I am sending her with a
contingent of men, designed to protect and watch over her,” he said as if
Niclas had pegged him for an idiot. “The men understand that if my wife is
followed, they are to remove her immediately. These men are cunning and
seasoned; they will not allow her to come to harm.”

Niclas
could see that Braxton was riled so he maintained his cool demeanor. “I have no
doubt of your foresight, my lord,” he said. “However, if it were me, I would
send her to an allied fortress.  At least there, you know she would be amply
protected and you would not have to worry. Do you not have an ally you can send
her to?”

Braxton
thought a moment. “Aye,” he said slowly. “There is a castle to the north, near
Kendal, called Creekemere. Baron Wenvoe and I have an understanding.”

“Then
send her there until this is over. If it were my wife, I would not send her
anywhere else for my own peace of mind.”

Braxton
stared at the man a moment, digesting his advice, realizing as the fog began to
clear that he was absolutely right.  Braxton had been trying so hard to appease
his wife and daughter that he had been lax in their security, the very reason
he was sending them away in the first place.  He had let his emotions get the
better of him, not the facts that he knew so well.  Niclas was correct; if
Gloucester caught wind of Gray and Brooke somewhere they could easily breach,
then the ladies’ lives would be in far more danger.  He would have to suffer
through their tears and denials and do what he felt best; send them to a
fortress where they would be protected, even if it was tiny Creekmere.

Braxton
finally stood up, realizing he had a lot of work ahead of him, things he had to
fix as a result of his own short-sightedness. The time for pleasantries was
gone.

“Find
my father and tell him the situation,” he said. “Let him know that Gloucester
is about to hammer us. Meanwhile, I will send my wife and daughter someplace
safe. I thank you for your prudent advice.”

Niclas
rose quickly, collecting his helm and heading for the door. “Do you wish for me
to escort them, my lord?”

Braxton
looked at the man; although he had proven himself reliable and wise since the
incident outside of Milnthorpe, he still didn’t trust the man completely where
Gray was concerned.  Niclas still had that hunger to his eyes when discussing
Lady de Nerra and Braxton wasn’t so sure if he sent Gray with the man that he
would ever see her again.  Still, the coming conflict left him unable to spare
Dallas or Graehm to escort the ladies; it would have been desirable to have at
least once seasoned knight as their protection.  But not de Aughton.

“Nay,”
he said after a moment. “I am sure my father will require your services should
this situation get out of hand.”

“Your
father has ten knights under his command,” Niclas told him. “I can be spared
should you require my assistance.”

Braxton’s
gaze lingered on him. “You will understand if I decline your offer, de Aughton.
Although I appreciate your generosity, I will again say no.  Go now and tell my
father the situation.”

“By
your command, my lord.”

“And
tell him to hurry.”

“Aye,
my lord.”

Braxton
watched Niclas dash from the keep, all the while just the least bit frustrated
with himself for not having seen the situation with his wife as clearly as he
should have. As he ascended the stairs to their second floor chamber, he ran
into Dallas descending from the top floor where he and Brooke slept. A few
words to Dallas relayed the situation, the decision, and Dallas heartily
agreed.

As
Dallas retraced his steps back to the top floor to prepare his wife for her
journey to Creekmere, Braxton entered the chamber he shared with Gray only to
find her sleeping peacefully. He paused a moment, gazing at her, thinking he’d
never in his life loved someone, or something, as much as he loved her.  She
was everything to him, his very reason for living and breathing. He didn’t want
to be separated from her and he didn’t want her to be miserable, but life
wasn’t always the ease one hoped for. Just when Gray was beginning to experience
the life of love and luxury she deserved, her happiness was about to take
another downturn.

So
was his.

 

***

 

Thomas
de Nerra entered the outer gatehouse of Erith Castle, looking around the place
with great curiosity.  He’d heard of Erith, of course, one of Simon de
Montfort’s holdings and knew that the castle had seen great men of history pass
through her halls.  But the castle around him, though big and bulky and
marginally fortified, still seemed like a shell of its former reputation.   To
him, it looked like a ghost.

Gray
stone and much rebuilding met him as he entered the inner bailey. Several of
Braxton’s men came out to greet the party, having been told of their impending
arrival.  A tall, blond knight greeted them formally in the dusty, cluttered
inner ward.

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