The Falls of Erith (8 page)

“I
know a great deal.”

“Then
you know that he believed the lesser nobles and common people of England should
have a say in the rule of their country.  Did you know that there was a time
when he had more power than the king? Simon held a parliament of barons to help
direct this country on a better path. He did so much good for this country in
the short time he was able. But a key ally turned against him because of a
silly quarrel and betrayed him to the king at Evesham. It was horrible. My
father never recovered from what King Henry did to his father.”

Braxton
could see her distress. He could only imagine it had been part of her life
since the day she was born, the tragic tale of Simon de Montfort. “Be that as
it may,” he said quietly, “there are those left in England who believe that de
Montfort did something great. There are those that believe he has showed us a
better way of governing a country.”

She
smiled, without humor. “Perhaps. But those people were nowhere to be found to
support the family Simon left behind.”

He
wriggled his eyebrows. “Those people conveniently forgot that your noble
bloodlines ran deep on both sides of the family,” he said softly. “You are the
great-granddaughter, niece and cousin of kings. Your grandmother, Eleanor, was
King Richard and King John’s sister. Your great-grandfather was Henry the
Second. Even now, you are a direct relation to Edward Longshanks.”

It
may have been the truth, but he made her sound more prestigious than she was.

 “For
a short time our family was glorified and respected, but when the end came, we
became social outcasts,” she told him. “When it came time for me to marry, my
father had to beg or bribe a suitor for no one wished to be associated with the
disgraced de Montforts.  I was finally promised to a lesser baron’s son, Garber
Serroux, after much negotiation.  We knew something of his family, but not too
much.” Her eyes moved across the dark and crumbling fortress. “I suppose you
can say the joke was on us. Garber Serroux was as undesirable a marriage
prospect as I was only we did not know it at the time.  He was a foul, abusive
liar with a penchant for gambling. He had no inheritance because he had wagered
it all away. Erith did not always look like this; it was still a moderately
decent place ten years ago.  But my husband sold everything we had to pay his
debts, sold off our servants, and when he was drunk, he used our walls as
target practice for the trebuchets my grandfather left behind. He left Erith as
you see it.”

By
this time, Braxton expression had darkened. “And then proceeded to get himself
murdered for a gambling debt, leaving his family destitute.”

“He
left us destitute long before that.”

The
words were softly spoken, but their impact could not have been greater. 
Braxton had wanted to know the lady, but he had gotten more than he’d bargained
for. Though he’d only known her a matter of hours, he could not imagine anyone
abusing this gentle, noble and angelic creature. The mere thought made anger
burn in his chest.

“I
am sorry for your trouble,” he said after a moment; he wasn’t sure what more he
could say. “Life has not been kind to you and I find that grossly unfair. You
deserve far better.”

Gray
took a closer look at him; as always, his manner was honest and sincere. To
speak kindly of her grandfather was a rare thing indeed. Be it the wine or the
conversation, she was growing more comfortable with him.

“Where
are you going when you leave tomorrow?” she asked.

He
casually shifted in his seat, moving closer to her. His elbow was brushing
against her knee. “I have a contract to fulfill in Kendal.”

“What
kind of contract?”

It
was usual that he did not speak of contract terms with anyone other than the
party soliciting his services and it was habit to be evasive with those who did
not need to know the details.

“My
military services for money, my lady. That is how I make my fortune in life.”

She
gazed at him seriously. “Do you like being a mercenary?”

“I
make a great deal of money fighting other people’s battles. The life has done
well for me.”

“Who
are you going to fight a battle for this time?”

He
looked at her; she was very close to him now, her sweet face and amber eyes
illuminated by the warm blaze.  Being this close to her made him feel strangely
dizzy. He did not see any harm in telling her one small detail. 

“A
man named Wenvoe,” he said. “He has a fortress a few miles to the northeast of
Kendal called Creekmere. It is probably less than a day’s ride from Erith.”

As
Braxton watched, Gray’s drunken amber eyes widened to the point where he
thought they might pop from her head. 

“God’s
Bones…,” she breathed. “What are you to do for him?”

“Why
would you ask that? Do you know him?”

She
nodded, all of the color gone from her face again. Even in the moonlight, he
could see it. “Aye,” she said.

“Then
what do you know? Why do you look so?”

Her
mouth worked as if searching for the correct words.  She finally shook her
head, unable to do anything more than simply spit it out.

“He
is the man who murdered my husband.”

CHAPTER
FOUR

“He
was a gracious guest,” Constance told her daughter. “’Tis a fine man who would
be so generous to a host. Our stairs are repaired, a new portcullis hung, and
the man left food enough for weeks.  ‘Twas a marvelous bit of luck for us when
you crossed his path at the falls of Erith.”

Though
it was only mid-afternoon, the day had been long already. Gray was positive she
hadn’t slept a wink the night before. After sitting with Braxton by the fire
for hours, she had finally retired in the wee hours of the morn and only then
because she was absolutely exhausted.  Had she not known any better, she would
have suspected that Braxton did not want her to leave at all. Every time she
tried to leave, he’d start on another subject and they would become caught up
in conversation.  They ended up draining two pitchers of wine before the
evening was out.  But it was the most pleasant evening she could ever remember.

“He
was very generous to us,” she agreed with her mother’s statement. “He seemed
like a kind enough man.”

“Kind?”
Constance snorted. “He was wildly benevolent. No doubt the man respected our
station and showed appropriate homage.”

Gray
didn’t reply immediately. She went back to the mending in her lap, an apron of
Brooke’s that the girl had torn.

“He
was simply being pleasant,” she said after a moment. “In truth, I do not know
if his men even slept with all of the building going on. They were in the
forest before dawn selecting trees for the new portcullis, and those rotted
stairs were fully rebuilt before mid-morn. They worked like fiends and still
had a long march to Kendal when they were finished.”

Braxton’s
army had been gone about an hour. Gray allowed herself to go back to that
moment when he bid her farewell, a strange gleam of warmth in his blue-green
eyes as he thanked her profusely for her hospitality.  It was she, in fact, who
should have thrown herself at his feet for what he had done for her and for
Erith.  He had left the place in far better standing than when he had found it. 
Frankly, it still puzzled her, no matter how much he had explained his
reasoning to her.

“I
do hope they visit us again,” Constance pulled her familiar tattered shawl
about her shoulders. “Perhaps the next time they come, they will gift us with
something more useful, like fabric or notions. Would that not be lovely?”

Gray
looked up at her mother, a scowl on her face. “What he did for us is quite
enough,” she said sternly. “I’ll not expect another thing from him.”

“Do
not take that tone with me.”

“Someone
needs to. Your selfishness is overwhelming.”

Constance’s
thin face tightened. “One of us should be selfish since all you can manage to
do is be supplicant and acquiescent of our situation. Someone has to look out
for us because you do not have the courage to do so.”

Gray
stood up.  “I do the best I can to keep our family together, which is more than
I can say for you. All you do is complain.”

“I
complain about your lack of courage.”

Something
very nasty teetered on Gray’s lips, but she refrained. Fighting with her mother
would not solve their problems. Fact was that Constance believed everything she
was saying.  Gray would take her mending elsewhere, away from her mother’s
attitude. Any more time spent with the woman might see them come to blows.

Brooke
passed her mother just as Gray was leaving the solar. The young girl paused,
watching her mother mount the steps for the upper floors.

“What
is wrong with Mother?” she asked.

Constance
went over to her granddaughter. “Nothing, my love,” she put her arm around the
girl’s shoulders and pulled her into the room. “So? Did you speak to him as I
told you to?”

Distracted
from her mother, Brooke nodded. “Aye.”

“And
your mother did not see you speak to him?”

“Nay.
I spoke to him before Mother came to say her farewells.”

“And
what did he say?”

“That
he would return as soon as he could.”

“And
did you tell him that we very much appreciated his continued generosity?”

“I
did. I told him we’d not had new garments in some time and we would appreciate
any fabric or clothing he could see fit to gift us the next time he came.”

Constance
kissed her granddaughter on the forehead. “That is my good girl,” she murmured.
“He must know that we are very interested in his continued presence here at
Erith and if we plan correctly, we should have an offer for your hand very
soon.”  She suddenly paused, looking seriously at Brooke. “You made it clear
that you were the object of interest, didn’t you?”

Brooke
nodded. “I did.”

Constance’s
features took on a shrewd cast. “The knight seems to be very interested in your
mother, so we must be clear that you are the one we intend for him.”

A
shadow of a doubt crossed Brooke’s fine features. “But…but if he is fond of
mother, perhaps she should marry him.”

“Rubbish,”
Constance snapped softly. “Your mother is not en eligible young maiden.”

“But
if he likes her…”

“I
will hear no more of that. ‘Tis you we will match with him.”

Though
Brooke tried to understand her grandmother, truth was, the woman could be very
overbearing at times.  Rebelling against her mother was one thing; rebelling
against her grandmother was another. Brooke believed her grandmother had her
best interests at heart. She believed that Constance wanted her to be rich and
happy and well taken care of.   It would have never crossed her young mind that
it was anything other than pure devotional family love, not some sick, twisted
vision of reclaiming something for herself.

“But
he does not have a House, grandmother,” Brooke said after a moment. “And he is
not from a fine family. Did you not say that I must marry someone from a fine
family?”

“He
is a de Nerra of Anjou, child.  Their family is older than the crown of
England.  And when he marries you, he can make Erith his house and repair the
fortress so that there is no finer castle in all of England.”

“But
he is an old man.”

Constance
laughed softly. “He is not terribly old.  But young or old, he is very wealthy.
Just look at all he has done for Erith in the short time he was here.  You want
a wealthy husband, do you not?”

Brooke
agreed, simply because her grandmother had drilled that objective into her head
for the past two years.

“But…
grandmother,” Brooke said as she sauntered into the room, picking at the only
chair. She seemed distracted. “What… what do you think mother would say to all
of this? I know you said it was a secret, but she will know some time. She will
find out. And then what?”

Constance’s
smile faded. “She must accept it. Your duty is to marry well, Brooke. Your
mother knows that. You are of marriageable age and the time to find a husband
for you is now.”

Brooke
faced her grandmother. “Do you think I shall have any more suitors other than
Sir Braxton?”

Constance
shrugged. “It is possible. I have sent word to a few.  But if you do not, we
must take advantage of our opportunities.”

“You
mean the arrival of Sir Braxton?”

“Precisely.”

Brooke
continued to stare out of the lancet window. She was able to observe the newly
hung portcullis on the inner wall. Constance watched her granddaughter’s
profile, a thousand calculating thoughts running through her mind.  She was
positive that she knew what was best for the girl, fighting off the knowledge
that Gray would undoubtedly become irate when she found out what her mother was
doing. It was a miracle she’d not found out yet, considering the planning that
Constance had been doing. But no matter. Gray obviously did not have her
daughter’s best interests at heart.