The day after learning of his son’s death, Gilbert seemed steely for the most part, but that last sentence was muttered and, in it, Fraser could see that the pain was still there no matter how much Gilbert tried to cover it.
“My lord, we do not have to discuss this now,” he said. “Yesterday was a… difficult day. Your daughter is safe now and we can discuss this at a later time, if you wish.”
But Gilbert shook his head. “We will discuss it now,” he said, glancing at Fraser. “You need not worry about me, Fraser. I have accepted Steffan’s death, although to be perfectly truthful, it seems to me that he left me a long time ago. I will overcome this grief. You needn’t worry.”
Fraser didn’t press him. Gilbert had been known to be rather cold where his children were concerned, a dysfunctional life that had left him distant from both of them. Therefore, he simply nodded.
“As you wish, my lord,” he said. “What more do you wish to discuss about your daughter?”
Gilbert continued scratching on the vellum. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “Mayhap there is nothing more to discuss at all except my frustration with her.”
“I know, my lord,” Fraser said. “It seems that she is a woman grown with many bad habits she has formed from her years in the city.”
“Like traveling without an escort.”
“And doing whatever she pleases, whenever she pleases.”
Gilbert sighed sharply as he stopped writing. “And what skills does she have?” he asked, looking at Fraser. “She never fostered as far as I know. If she did, her mother never told me, but what skills does she have as a wife and chatelaine? A husband is going to want a woman who will not be a burden to him and I fear all my daughter can do is wander around like the village idiot. No man will want her for a wife.”
Fraser lifted his shoulders. “She is astonishingly beautiful, my lord,” he said. “Based on her beauty alone, she should command a high price.”
Gilbert cocked an eyebrow. “Why do you say that?” he questioned curiously. “Do you want her? Nay, forget I asked that. I would not burden you with her because she would drive you mad and I think too highly of you, Fraser. But I have been thinking…”
Fraser wasn’t quite over the question he’d just been asked. Do you want her? Gilbert hadn’t given him the opportunity to answer. Did he want her? She was magnificent, but she was as headstrong as a bull. Fraser had always hoped for a woman who was a little more cultured and knew her place in a man’s world. Isalyn did not. He also wanted a marriage with some political connections, perhaps connecting him to a fine warring family where he could find his place in the world.
If he married Isalyn, he would have a few manses, a merchant business, and unlimited wealth. But that wasn’t the life he wanted. Like Steffan, he didn’t want to be a merchant. He was trained for warfare. He pushed aside the confusion he felt at Gilbert’s question in order to focus on the rest of his statement.
But I have been thinking…
“What have you been thinking, my lord?” he asked.
Gilbert paused a moment before setting his quill down. Then he stood up, stretching his legs as he made his way to the lancet windows that overlooked the courtyard. There was a yew tree outside of this set of windows, one that created flickering shadows when the sun was in a certain position in the sky. Often times, he liked to sit in front of this window, watching the sunlight through the leaves.
At the moment, however, he wasn’t thinking of leaves or sunlight.
He was thinking on something far more serious.
“I was thinking that if I could marry my daughter into a great house, like the House of de Wolfe, it might be the very best thing for her,” he said. “Great houses like that would not tolerate a foolish young woman. They would mold her, shape her, and make something respectable out of her. I would not be ashamed of her.”
Fraser’s brow furrowed. “Are you ashamed of her?”
Gilbert shrugged. “She is unruly and unconventional,” he said. “How else am I supposed to feel? Everyone who meets her probably thinks my daughter is a wild animal.”
Fraser could see his point somewhat. “Sir Tor did not seem to think she was a wild animal,” he said. “At least, that is not the impression I got from the man. In fact, I heard him invite you and Lady Isalyn to feast with him before she returned to London. He made her promise to come soon.”
Gilbert looked at him, astonishment on his face. “He did?”
“I heard him myself.”
Something in Gilbert’s eyes seemed to light up at the very thought. “Perfect,” he said. “We can go to Blackpool and sup with him. De Wolfe is the greatest house in the north. Mayhap he has a nephew or a brother who would be a viable marital prospect for Isalyn.”
“Mayhap he himself would be.”
“Is he married?”
“I did not ask him, so I do not know. But if he is not married, he seemed to be attracted to Isalyn.”
That was what Gilbert wanted to hear. “Then that is what we shall do,” he said decisively. “We shall take him up on his invitation immediately and I will discover if he has a brother or nephew or cousin who would be a viable prospect… or if he is one himself.”
“He is a de Wolfe,” Fraser reminded him. “They are in great demand, my lord. I doubt there isn’t one male or female in that family already taken.”
Fraser pointed a finger at him. “But they owe me,” he said. “Steffan may have jilted a de Wolfe bride, but the de Wolfe pack killed him. They did not have to do it, but they did. Therefore, they owe me. They took away one de Wolfe marriage. They shall provide me with another – to Isalyn.”
Fraser could see that Gilbert was going to work the guilt angle. Already, he wasn’t entirely sure that was a good idea. When he had mentioned Tor de Wolfe’s invitation to sup, he hadn’t expected this turn in Gilbert’s perspective of the situation.
“I would be careful in how you negotiate that, my lord,” he said. “After all, Steffan was running from a de Wolfe bride. Mayhap you should simply try to negotiate a betrothal without trying to guilt them into agreeing. You may want to leave Steffan out of it entirely.”
Perhaps deep down, Gilbert knew that Fraser was right, but he wasn’t going to admit it. Not yet. He was still willing to use Steffan’s death as leverage.
“No promises,” he said, waving Fraser off. “Go and tell my daughter that we are departing for Blackpool tomorrow at dawn. Make sure that she, and the escort, are prepared.”
“Aye, my lord.”
“And bring a wagon packed with gifts,” Gilbert said thoughtfully. “Capes, furs, anything a prospective de Wolfe husband might want. Isalyn comes with an enormous dowry. Let us give him a taste of it.”
“Aye, my lord.”
“And, Fraser?”
“My lord?”
“You will not speak of this plan to Isalyn. Not a word.”
“Nay, my lord.”
Gilbert flicked a wrist at him, sending him off. As Fraser went to carry out his orders, Gilbert stood by the window, watching the activity in the bailey, wondering if he’d just found the solution to rid himself of the burden of his disobedient, willful daughter.