She gazed at him a moment with big, bottomless eyes, perhaps pondering a world where a brother could be kind to a sister. Or a family that loved one another. After a moment, she smiled weakly.
“They are most fortunate to have you for a brother,” she said. “I envy them. Will you go home to them now?”
He shook his head. “They do not live with me,” he said. “I live at Blackpool Castle.”
“Where is that?”
“About twenty miles north of here.”
“And you live there alone?”
He nodded. “Without my sisters and brothers and parents,” he said. “My cousin lives with me, however. Christian is my second in command. Blackpool is an important outpost, a military outpost, so it is heavily manned.”
“But you are happy there?”
He wasn’t sure why she was asking so many questions, but he sensed something behind her curiosity. It seemed she wanted to hear that someone was happy, somewhere, because she wasn’t particularly happy with her circumstances. A dead mother, now a dead brother, and a father who seemed distant at best. Perhaps she simply couldn’t believe there really were happy families in the world.
It was a foreign concept.
She was looking for happiness, somewhere, even through a knight she’d just met.
“I am happy there,” he said. “When my uncle purchased the castle, it came with herds of sheep with black faces. Funny little creatures. There are orchards and gangs of geese that like to congregate in my bailey and bite my soldiers. But it is a happy place, at least for me.”
Her face was still pale and her eyes a bit watery, but she smiled at the thought of such a place. “There are some people in London that keep geese for protection,” she said. “Sometimes they are better than dogs.”
“If I had thousands, I’d send them after the Scots.”
She giggled, displaying a sweet smile. He was simply glad that the mood was finally lightening. It had been touch and go there for moment.
“Good,” he said. “You’re smiling again. Now, shall we go into the hall and get out of this rain?”
She looked up at the dark sky. The rain still wasn’t falling heavily, but it was enough that she agreed with him. When he offered her his arm, she didn’t hesitate to take it and Tor realized, as he led her towards the entry to the hall, that he felt rather proud to have her on his arm. Little did he know that she was feeling the same way, too.
The unexpected day for them both was turning out even more unexpectedly.
CHAPTER SIX
Netherghyll Castle
“He attacked one of my nephews and was killed in the process,” Thomas said grimly. “You cannot know how badly I feel for this unfortunate incident, Kelton, but Steffan chose his own path. It was not forced upon him. He could have come peacefully with us and fulfilled his vow, but he chose not to. I am sorry to inform you of this.”
Kelton de Royans, Lord Cononley, was staring at Thomas rather dumbfounded. A middle-aged man, his blond hair mostly gone gray, he was genuinely shocked by what he was hearing. The unexpected appearance of the Earl of Northumbria should have told him something was amiss but, even so, he wasn’t expecting this.
Or perhaps he was.
Given that the subject was Steffan de Featherstone, perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised at all.
“A betrothal to Isabella de Wolfe?” he said, incredulous. “I had not heard of this, my lord, and Steffan has served me for two years. When did this betrothal occur?”
Thomas could see that the man was being genuine in his disbelief. “Within the year is my understanding,” he said. “He pursued Isabella quite seriously, enough to compromise her so that her father gave in to the demands for marriage. Then, on the day of the marriage, Steffan was nowhere to be found. Forgive me for pointing this out, but he is your knight. Did you not wonder why he was not here with you at Netherghyll?”
Kelton sighed heavily. “He said that his father was ill,” he said. “He was traveling frequently to Featherstone to see to his father, but now I am guessing that was not true.”
Thomas shook his head. “It seems that it was not,” he said. “Steffan was pursing Isabella and then abandoning her. When we caught up to him, he chose to fight, as I said, rather than honor his promise. The decision cost him his life.”
Kelton’s expression of shock began to turn to one of rage. He turned to the five de Royans knights that had returned to Netherghyll with the earl.
“You lot were in Newcastle,” he said through clenched teeth. “You met Steffan there, did you not?”
The knight in the lead nodded to the question. He was young and intimidated by an angry lord but, then again, all five of them were young men newly knighted. Netherghyll was known as a training port for new knights, bachelor knights, and the like. In exchange for service, they received more advanced training from an arsenal of senior de Royans knights, much as Castle Questing and other castles provided. It was a way of strengthening ranks while giving new knights more experience, but the caveat was that sometimes those younger knights had a lot to learn in both battle and ethics.
This was clearly one of those times.
“We were in Newcastle, my lord,” the young knight said. “We were at Alnwick at your request, if you recall, but we were preparing to depart when we received de Featherstone’s missive to meet him in Newcastle.”
“Did he say why he wanted you to meet him?”
“Nay, my lord. I swear it.”
Kelton wasn’t convinced. “You were friends with de Featherstone, Powell,” he said. “Do you mean to tell me that you knew nothing of his activities?”
“He told me that he was visiting his sick father as well, my lord.”
The young man was pale with fear, but neither Kelton nor Thomas sensed he was lying. Just nervous. In fact, Thomas sought to take Kelton’s anger off the knight.
“I believe him,” he said quietly. “We had the opportunity to speak after the encounter at the tavern and I am convinced your men believed they were being attacked by de Wolfe knights for some unknown reason. They appear to know nothing about Steffan’s activities so I would say you have men who trusted the wrong companion. That is their only crime.”
Kelton still wasn’t convinced but he let it go. He knew that Powell and Steffan and another knight named Joah de Brayton had been good friends, so he honestly couldn’t believe that Powell knew nothing. After a moment, he waved them off.
“Go,” he said. “Out of my sight. But do not leave this castle. I may have more questions. Do you understand me?”
The five of them nodded fearfully. “Aye, my lord,” Powell said.
Dismissed, the five knights nearly ran from the room. An enraged de Royans was never a good thing. Four of the knights headed out into the bailey to tend to their horses but Powell paused a moment in the entry, sighing heavily as he ran his fingers through his dark hair. He felt as if he’d barely survived his bout with an angry lord. In fact, the entire situation had him reeling. Just as he went to follow his colleagues outside, he heard someone hissing.
Turning towards the sound, he could see an older knight standing in a doorway that led to a servant’s passage. The man was hissing at him and Powell looked startled to see him. His eyes darted around to make sure no one was watching before he swiftly headed in the older knight’s direction. When he drew close, the man reached out and grabbed him, pulling him into the darkened passage.