Chapter Eight #2
Garran simply shook his head and Tiberius didn’t push.
He wanted very much to speak with his friend, to clear things between them, but he thought that perhaps now was not the time.
Moreover, he had more important things to do, like discussing his offer of marriage with Bose.
In the long run, Garran would not make that decision – Bose would – so it was more important that he speak with Bose.
“Come along,” Maximus encouraged, cutting into his thoughts. “We must leave.”
Tiberius didn’t say another word. He followed Maximus from the chamber, kicking aside the broken pieces of the old, oak door, and casting Douglass a wink just before he left completely.
She smiled in return, giving him a brief wave.
It was a wave of hope and of longing. Already, he could see that she missed him. He missed her, too.
Thoughts of Douglass were heavy on his mind as he headed away from her room, down the darkened corridor.
But those thoughts were interrupted when he suddenly smacked into the back of Maximus, who had come to a sudden halt.
When Tiberius looked to see why Maximus had stopped, he realized that Bose was standing directly in front of him.
But de Moray wasn’t looking at Maximus or Tiberius. He was looking at the shattered door that belonged to his daughter’s chamber. Then, the black eyes went directly to Tiberius.
“Why is my daughter’s door smashed?” he wanted to know.
Tiberius could see that the man was holding his composure together by a mere thread.
Thoughts of a ravaged daughter were clearly rolling through his head and, by the way he was looking at Tiberius, it was quite possible that Bose thought he was to blame.
To that end, Tiberius did the only thing he could do. He told the truth.
“Garran did it!”
*
Having left de Moray several minutes earlier, Gallus was back in the minstrel’s gallery overlooking the common room of the tavern.
He had a clear view of the catwalk, the stairs, and the area across the building that had the sleeping quarters on the second floor.
He saw, clearly, when de Moray intercepted Maximus and Tiberius as they were coming out of Lady Douglass’ chamber and he noted there was a brief exchange before Maximus and Tiberius continued onward.
Bose continued to his daughter’s destroyed chamber door and Gallus could see the man kicking pieces of broken wood aside.
Gallus couldn’t begin to guess how Lady Douglass’ door had been destroyed but he was positive it had something to do with Tiberius.
In fact, both brothers were heading in his direction, across the catwalk and through the smoky haze.
Gallus poured himself a measure of the terrible ale as Maximus and Tiberius resumed their seats at the table.
The first thing Tiberius did was drain an entire cup of that awful alcohol.
“Well?” Gallus asked. “What happened? Did you talk to her?”
Tiberius nodded and poured himself another full cup. He slurped it down as Gallus looked at Maximus with concern. In fact, both brothers were rather concerned at Tiberius’ manner but Tiberius finished the second cup, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and took a deep breath.
“She is agreeable,” he said, thrill evident in his voice. “She feels for me as I feel for her. She is agreeable to a marriage contract.”
Gallus smiled broadly. “Congratulations,” he said. “But why is her door smashed?”
Tiberius’ smile faded. “Garran did that,” he said. “He heard us talking through the door and, fearing the worst, smashed it down.”
“So that is why the door was broken,” Maximus muttered into his cup. “I thought you did that to get to her.”
Tiberius shook his head. “Not at all,” he said. “She is a warm and wonderful woman. She is different from the empty-headed chits I have chased from one end of England to the other. She is intelligent and kind. I am wholly unworthy of her but I intend to do my best to make her an excellent husband.”
Maximus glanced at Gallus, who simply lifted his eyebrows in understanding.
Both brothers still had their doubt that their free-loving youngest brother could indeed settle down with one woman, but Tiberius seemed convinced that he could and since the lady was agreeable, there wasn’t much they could say about it.
The truth was that neither one of them had ever seen Tiberius so excited about anything, and especially a woman. It was touching.
“And so you shall,” Gallus finally said. “What is your next move?”
Tiberius pondered his response over his third cup of disgusting ale. He was so wrapped up in thoughts of Douglass that he couldn’t even stop to think about the fact that he was drinking swill.
“I want to marry her immediately,” he said, overlooking any sense of propriety. “I will speak to her father tonight and then marry her.”
It was a simple and rather selfish plan. Gallus lifted his eyebrows as if not entirely believing what he was hearing.
“De Moray will not allow you to marry her tonight, Ty,” he said, trying to force his brother to see some reason when, in fact, men in love were seldom reasonable.
“You must ask her father for permission to court the woman. Once he gives his consent, you may start planning the wedding, but this will not be a quick process. Did you really think it would be?”
Tiberius frowned. Drinking three straight cups of the nasty ale and its high alcohol content already had his head buzzing. “Maximus married Courtly within two days of knowing her,” he said. “You helped him marry her as quickly as he could. Why am I any different?”
Maximus sighed heavily and looked at Gallus for an answer, but Gallus merely scratched his head.
“It was different and you know it,” he said.
“We were dealing with a father who was being unreasonable and mad at times. De Moray is not unreasonable and he is not mad, and he will most certainly be more formidable than Courtly’s father was. Do you truly wish to anger the man?”
Tiberius backed off somewhat. “Of course not.”
“Then you and I will go to him tonight and ask permission to enter into negotiations for the woman,” Gallus said, explaining the situation as plainly as he could.
“This is a different situation altogether, Ty. We must observe proprieties or you will have a very angry Bose de Moray on your hands and that would not be a healthy thing for any of us.”
Tiberius didn’t say anything, knowing his brother was right.
He hung his head, looking to the empty cup in his hand, before inevitably turning his attention in the direction of Lady Douglass’ chamber.
He could see, across the mezzanine level they were on, that Bose was assisting his daughter from the room and moving her to a chamber with a door on it that had not been kicked in by an over-zealous brother.
Gallus and Maximus noticed where Tiberius’ attention was.
They, too, could see the woman with the mane of golden-red hair as she moved from one room to another.
Gallus sat back in his chair, watching Tiberius, wondering when the man was going to demand they go running over to de Moray to plead for the woman’s hand. It didn’t take long.
“Mayhap we should go now,” Tiberius said. “He is settling Douglass in another chamber. It will be the perfect time to speak with him.”
Gallus frowned. “How did you determine that?”
Tiberius shrugged. “Because I….”
He was interrupted when one of Gallus’ soldiers suddenly appeared on the catwalk, capturing Gallus’ and Maximus’ attention.
But Maximus frowned when he saw the man’s face.
Illuminated by the dim light of the tavern, they could see the man quite clearly as he drew near.
A sense of apprehension immediately filled the air.
“That is Chambers,” Maximus said, his tone edgy. “We left him behind at Isenhall.”
Gallus knew that. Already, he was on his feet as the man approached. “What has happened?” he demanded of the soldier. “Why are you here?”
The soldier bearing the de Shera colors was exhausted. He was dirty, sweaty, and had mud all over the lower half of his legs, as if he had ridden very hard and very fast through anything and everything in his path. He came to a weary halt, wiping at his eyes.
“I saw some of our men in the street below, my lord,” he said, addressing Gallus. “They told me where you were.”
Gallus couldn’t help but notice the soldier hadn’t answered his question. “And so I am,” he said, eyeing the man with great concern. “Is my wife well?”
The soldier nodded. “She is very well, my lord,” he said, looking to Maximus also. “Lady Courtly is also well. Be at ease, my lords, the women are fine.”
Gallus was vastly relieved but he was also increasingly perplexed. “Then why are you here?”
The soldier looked directly at Gallus, apparently having difficulty answering. He seemed to be groping for words. “Sir Scott has sent me, my lord,” he said, strained. “I have a message for you and you alone. Sir Scott has asked me to deliver it to you in private.”
Gallus’ brow furrowed. He was weary and unhappy that he was away from his pregnant wife, so cryptic messages were not pleasing him at the moment. “What on earth about?” he demanded.
The soldier shook his head faintly. “Please, my lord,” he begged quietly. “It will only take a moment.”
Gallus rolled his eyes, looking to Maximus and Tiberius, who simply waved him on.
They didn’t care about the contents of a private message because they knew that Gallus would tell them both eventually.
They delved back into the food on the table, or what was left of it, as Gallus pulled the soldier with him along the smoke-hazed catwalk leading to the staircase on the other side.
When they were about halfway across the walk, Gallus came to a halt and turned to the man.
“No more foolery,” he said, his voice low. “You have come a very long way to deliver an urgent message to me. What did Scott want you to tell me?”