Chapter Nine #2
Truth be told, Gage really hadn’t thought of it that way.
He didn’t see himself as the grandson of a count or a nephew of a count, but it was true that he was.
Had he been a knight in a noble household, that lineage would have meant something.
He was, technically, also the heir to the Stagshaw barony.
It wasn’t as if he didn’t have bloodlines or connections.
But the path he’d chosen was not one that would appeal to any family of a prospective bride and most certainly not the heiress to Ashington.
Still…
He was thinking foolish things. Spring had him thinking that he wasn’t as lowly as he knew himself to be.
Did he want to marry Wynter? He didn’t want to marry at all, but if he did want to marry, it was very possible that Wynter would be his choice.
But he couldn’t make that decision based on a few conversations with a woman he’d once known. He had to get to know her better.
But he couldn’t do that if she was hiding from him.
He had an idea.
“Your arguments are most convincing,” he said, avoiding her question for the most part. “Will you do something for me?”
Spring nodded. “What is your wish?”
“Tell Lady Wynter to meet me in the stables. I must speak with her.”
Spring eyed him doubtfully. “She will not go.”
“No chance at that, eh?”
“Nay.” Spring pondered the situation a moment before her face lit up with an idea. “But I will take you to her. She cannot hide from you if I take you to her chamber.”
Gage’s focus shifted to the Ashington knights in the hall – Clark, Etienne, and Dirk.
He would be in a bad way if one or more of them caught him alone with Wynter, but since they were occupied in the hall, he figured he may as well take a chance.
This might be the last time he’d be able to speak with Wynter because tomorrow they would be knee-deep in planning the offensive against Septentrion and she would be heading home.
He’d told her that he’d come to see her when he was finished with his task, but he truthfully had no idea when that would be. Or if that would be.
Therefore, he had to take the opportunity when it presented itself.
“Very well,” he said. “Shall I follow you?”
Spring showed surprising caution as she looked around the hall. “Not right now,” she said. “Do you know where the keep is?”
“I saw it when we entered.”
“Let me go first and then you meet me at the entrance.”
Gage nodded and Spring bolted to her feet, quickly leaving the great hall. Gage pretended that he wasn’t paying attention to her, sipping at his wine and giving her several minutes before he got up and left, too, but that was before he caught sight of Brian looking at him.
The man was watching him like a hawk.
Curious, he met Brian’s gaze for quite some time before the man was engaged in conversation by Azul, who politely addressed him. Once Brian’s attention was diverted to the dark-haired knight, Gage slipped out.
*
“What are you doing out here? You should be inside, drinking all of de Luci’s fine wine.”
Gage was halfway across the bailey when he caught sight of Laurence, lingering near the entrance to the stables. Gage came to a halt and faced him.
“The better question is what are you doing out here?” he said. “Where did you go?”
Laurence snorted. “God have mercy,” he muttered. “I had to get away from Lady Spring. The woman was all but asking me to marry her. She used to do it years ago when I knew her but I had hoped she would have outgrown those aggressive female demands.”
Gage was fighting off a grin. “It seems that these de Thorington women don’t change too much over the years,” he said. “Lady Spring seems to be a slightly older version of the girl we remember and Lady Wynter…”
Laurence cocked an eyebrow. “She’s only grown more lovely,” he said quietly. “So much for the girl you haven’t thought of in six years. I would wager you’re wishing you had thought of her now.”
Gage shook his head. “It would do no good.”
“Why not?”
“Because our stay in England is temporary,” he said, growing annoyed. “We will be leaving after this business with my brother is finished and I shall never see her again.”
Laurence was shaking his head before Gage finished speaking. “That is not true,” he said. “Gage, the situation has changed drastically since we were informed that our task is against Septentrion. Have you not realized that?”
“Realized what?”
“That you are your brother’s heir,” Laurence hissed. “He will die in this battle and Stagshaw will belong to you. Are you truly going to leave it to rot? It’s your legacy, man. Think!”
Gage held out a hand to shush him. “I am thinking,” he said. Then, he sighed heavily. “If Boothe does not survive the battle, then I suppose I shall have to consider my choices.”
“Not choices,” Laurence said. “Responsibilities. Stagshaw and her vassals will be your responsibility. You cannot leave them to fend for themselves.”
He had a point. Gage hadn’t really considered his brother dying in battle until Laurence mentioned it. Of course that was a possibility. With the way Boothe fought, he would be an easy target.
Heavily, he sighed.
“When we were traveling north, you asked me if I was going to find out what had become of my brother,” he said.
“I told you that I didn’t waste my time thinking on him.
But since we’ve returned to the north, it has been unavoidable.
Do you know when it hit me the hardest? When we were in Durham and I saw the Ashington knights, men of noble position with a wealthy lord.
Men who had the respect of their peers. It occurred to me just how much Boothe took from me by sending me away.
He took my entire future. Those were all thoughts and ideas that I chased away when we turned to the life of a mercenary, but now they are back and I am trying desperately not to feel embittered or vengeful.
Those emotions will cloud my judgment in battle. ”
It was the first serious show of emotion from an otherwise emotionless man in a very long time and Laurence didn’t take it lightly.
“Nay, they will not,” he said quietly. “You’re too good for that. But you must face the fact that things have changed since our return. At the end of this battle, you may very well be Lord Stagshaw and we can both return to England.”
Gage’s focus lingered on him for a moment, sensing something in that statement. “And you would like to return home?”
Laurence averted his gaze, forcing a smile. “I go where you go,” he said. “But if you are asking, then I would like to return to England someday. It is our home, after all.”
Gage sighed heavily, as if the reality of Laurence’s true opinion of this life they’d chosen had finally been revealed. “Christ,” he muttered. “You came with me and you should not have. I should have forced you to remain behind. Only I had to leave, Bull. Not you.”
Laurence put a hand on Gage’s shoulder. “I made the choice,” he said plainly.
“You did not force me to. No one forced me to. We’ve had some adventures, you and I, but I would like to return home to England at some point.
I cannot spend the rest of my life fighting other men’s wars.
I’m almost too old to do that as it is.”
That didn’t ease Gage’s mind, but at least Laurence wasn’t blaming him for anything. “You’re a good friend, Bull,” he said. “You have always been my very best friend and I cherish you for it.”
Laurence smiled faintly and patted him on the cheek. “Do you trust me?”
“With my life.”
“Then trust me when I tell you that you must stay if your brother meets his death during this battle,” he said.
“Septentrion Castle must have you as a custodian or Hart de Reyne’s legacy will die.
You are the heir he always wanted, Gage.
Boothe is the one he got. You must not disappoint your father. ”
His words were wise. As Gage resigned himself to a future that could very well change in an instant, he heard hissing coming from the direction of the keep.
Both he and Laurence turned to see Spring over near the stairs that led up into the keep, motioning to Gage frantically.
When Laurence saw who it was, he started to bolt but Gage put his hand on him.
“Nay,” he said quietly. “She is not calling for you, but for me.”
Laurence looked vastly relieved, but also vastly puzzled. “Why does she want you?”
Gage’s focus was on the young lady in the distance. “Because of that young woman I’d forgotten about.”
He headed in Spring’s direction, leaving Laurence no less puzzled than he had been before. Gage wasn’t going to explain himself, however. He was already in a world of upheaval and it only seemed be getting more turbulent.
That turbulence was about to become worse than he could imagine.
*
She was bored.
That was the price for solitude away from the feast in the hall – there was no one to talk to, nothing to capture her interest. Therefore, Wynter was plotting out her latest play on a piece of vellum from the small box she always carried with her.
She was never without it, at home or when she traveled.
The box had a compartment for small pieces of vellum and another compartment for ink and quill.
She was sitting on the end of her bed, using the only table in the chamber to write upon, when there was a knock at the door.
“Who is it?” she called.
“It’s me!” Spring said, muffled through the door.
“Come in.”
The latch was lifted from the other side and the door opened enough to reveal Spring’s head.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Wynter was looking at the paper. “I am writing a scene where Sarah presents Hagar to her husband,” she said.
“I think Abraham should not want another woman to give birth to his child, don’t you?
The priests make it seem as if he should be eager for such a thing. Why would he? Hagar was not his wife.”