Chapter Twenty-One
Septentrion Castle
“Are you better today?” Varro asked, fighting off a grin. “You look much better, Gage. Is your wife responsible, I wonder?”
He snorted like a giddy squire as Gage fought off a grin. He was sitting up on the mattress that had been prepared for him the night before, a mattress he’d slept very well on. His back was against the wall as Wynter fed him some gruel.
“My wife is responsible for everything,” Gage said, looking adoringly at Wynter. “She will be responsible for much more in the near future.”
Wynter was having difficulty making eye contact with him, her cheeks pink with his gentle flirt. She smirked as she spooned more gruel into his mouth.
“Do not be vulgar,” she said.
He grinned, grasping her arm and kissing her loudly on the cheek, gruel on his lips. “How is that being vulgar?” he said. “Uncle Varro asked a question and I told the truth. I married you yesterday and you are responsible for my miraculous healing. That is a fact.”
She shook her head at him, wiping the gruel from her cheek.
Gage was pale this morning but much stronger than he had been yesterday.
He was able to sit up, as he was now, with minimal weakness or discomfort.
After he’d consummated the marriage with his new wife, he’d ended up sleeping the rest of the day and all night, waking at dawn this morning to Wynter moving around in the room, silently.
The sight of her told him that it wasn’t a dream.
Everything was very real.
And very wonderful.
“You are a fortunate man,” Varro said. “If she takes such good care of you, you will be holding a sword again in no time.”
Gage’s smile faded as he gazed up at his uncle.
“I hope so,” he said. “But given that I have taken a wife, surely you realize my life will be different from now on, Uncle Varro. I cannot possibly take her with me on a battle march, nor would I want to. It is time for me to return to England. This is where I belong.”
Varro’s smile didn’t change, but he did shrug.
“I know, mi hijo,” he said, folding his arms as he leaned against the door jamb.
“I knew that the moment we returned to England. You are home and you must stay here. You cannot let your brother ruin the family name as he has. It is up to you to reclaim that honor.”
Gage nodded. “I am glad you understand,” he said. “You know that I love you and I have loved our years together. I can never repay you for what you have done for me, but it is time for me to move on. If you ever need me, however, all you need do is send word. I will come.”
As Varro beamed at his nephew, Wynter spoke up.
“What does mi hijo mean?” she asked Varro. “Is that a name?”
Varro shook his head. “It means ‘my son’,” he said. “It is a term of affection. Since I have no son, that is what I call your husband. He is my family.”
Wynter’s eyes twinkled. “Am I your family, too?”
“Of course you are,” Varro said firmly. “You are mi preciosa, my beautiful girl. Although I am sorry to lose Gage, I am not sorry to lose him to you. You are worthy of him, my dear.”
Wynter grinned. She was coming to like Uncle Varro a great deal. “You are welcome at Ashleven Castle, always,” she said. “My mother thought you were quite entertaining. I am sure she would like to see you again.”
Varro dipped his head in thanks. “Your mother is a gracious lady,” he said. “And your sisters are beautiful. You must let me help you find husbands for them.”
Wynter started laughing as Gage shook his head. “I think not,” he said. “At least one of them is already spoken for and the other two do not need the kind of men you would try to marry them to.”
Varro looked stricken. “I would find them only the finest men, I swear it.”
“The finest and most noble? Or the finest that money can buy?”
As Wynter shook with laughter, Varro brushed off his nephew. “You slander me,” he said, though he wasn’t serious. “What will your new wife think?”
“She will think that you are a great man with different ideas of what constitutes a fine man,” Gage said. Then, he sobered. “In fact, may we speak of my brother? I would assume the patrols were not successful yesterday.”
Varro’s smile faded. “Nay,” he said. “They cast a wide net, but they were unable to find him. He knows this land, Gage, and we do not. He could be hiding anywhere, waiting for the opportunity to strike again.”
Gage nodded. “I was thinking about that,” he said. “He went to Ashleven right after we took control of Septentrion and asked Wynter’s father for assistance. He wanted the man’s army to get his castle back. Ashington refused and he fled.”
Varro hadn’t heard that. He opened his mouth to speak but Laurence appeared in the doorway, more food in his hand for Gage.
Gage pointed at him.
“What’s this?” he said. “Are you a servant now?”
Laurence cast him an expression that suggested how much he didn’t like that comment as he handed the steaming bowl to Wynter.
“An expensive, ill-tempered servant,” he said. “I came to see how you were feeling, but I will just go about my business if you intend to insult me.”
Gage chuckled. “Stay, please,” he said. “Uncle Varro and I were just speaking on Boothe. He told me they were unable to locate him yesterday.”
Laurence shook his head. “I even told them to go all the way up to Whiteside to see if that was where he had gone.”
“And it wasn’t?”
“There are signs that someone has been there, but Boothe was not located,” Laurence said. “I suspect that he was there for a time but he has since left, mayhap to find someone who will lend him their army so he can retake Septentrion.”
Gage thought on that, his brow furrowed.
“Possibly,” he said. “Or it is equally possible he saw the patrol coming and hid. You know that Whiteside is on a rise overlooking the valley. If I were Boothe, I would go to Whiteside and stay there until I figured out what I wanted to do. The location is perfect.”
“Then you think he’s still there?”
Gage held up a finger, begging patience. “I have had an idea,” he said slowly. “I was just going to speak to Uncle Varro about it, but I am glad you are here. I will tell you, too. I was thinking that we are going about our hunt for Boothe the wrong way.”
“What do you mean?” Laurence asked.
“I mean that we are looking for him when we should be luring him to us.”
“How?”
Gage looked at Wynter. “He went to Wynnie’s father and asked for assistance,” he said.
“John denied him. But what if we go back to Ashleven and ask John to summon Boothe back to Ashleven under false pretenses? He can tell my brother that he has changed his mind and will help him, and Boothe would run back to Ashleven as fast as his legs would carry him. Once he arrives, we capture him.”
Varro nodded his head at the very good idea. “Will Ashington agree?”
“He’ll agree,” Wynter said, setting down the bowl in her hand. “When we tell him how Boothe killed Brian in such a cowardly fashion, he will agree. He will want to help. By the way… where is Brian? What have you done with him?”
“He is on his way to Hexham Abbey this morning, my lady,” Laurence said.
“The men built a pine box for him last night and, this morning, the priest and fifty of Brian’s men are escorting him into Hexham.
In fact, we’re sending about half of de Luci’s army back to Langley today also.
There are many men staffing the castle at this time and with Stagshaw on the loose, we thought it best to return as many men as we could to Langley to keep it safe until it’s decided what to do with it. I do not think de Luci had any heirs.”
Wynter shook her head. “He did not,” she said. “My father will decide what needs to be done. He was Brian’s liege, after all.”
“He was, but property like that will revert to the crown,” Gage said. “We do not have to decide its fate anytime soon but, at some point, your father will need to inform the king of Brian’s passing. Langley is a large and important outpost.”
It was a sad thought, watching Brian’s legacy absorbed by the king, but that couldn’t be helped. Gage returned his attention to Laurence and Varro.
“If I continue to improve, I do not see why I couldn’t make the journey back to Ashleven in a few days,” he said.
“I simply need to regain my strength, but the fact remains that my wife left her home without telling anyone and her father is more than likely frantic by now. I will need to send word to him of her whereabouts and assure him that she is safe.”
Wynter turned to him. “Mayhap I should go home,” she said. “We are married, after all, and he cannot keep us apart, so I should return to tell him what has happened.”
Gage put his hand on her head, stroking her soft hair. “That should come from me, my darling,” he said. “I appreciate the offer, but that news should really come from me. I’d be a cowardly man to let my wife speak in my stead.”
Wynter understood. “As you wish,” she said, leaning over to kiss him. “Now, do you want more of this gruel? Bull brought you a fresh bowl of it.”
Gage made a face. “Nay,” he said. “But I think I could sleep for a few hours if everyone will get out and leave me alone.”
“Me, too?”
He laughed softly. “Nay, you may stay.”
Varro looked at Laurence. “He means we must go,” he said, but his attention returned to Gage. “Very well, mi hijo. We will go and let you rest, but we shall return later.”
“Uncle Varro?”
“What is it?”
“Thank you. For everything.”
Varro’s grin was back as he quit the chamber, following Laurence down the stairs. That left Wynter alone with Gage, helping the man to lie back down so she could tuck him in. As he lay there, she tucked that coverlet in tightly before kissing him sweetly on the lips.
“I never realized you were so tender and caring,” he said. “I have a feeling there is a good deal about you I do not know yet, but I’m quite eager to learn.”