Chapter Sixteen
“The physics knew he had a bad heart. He did not want anyone to tell you.”
Exhausted, cold and sickened, Avalyn sat in the solar in the pale gray of the coming dawn, listening to Barton’s soft explanations. The weddings guests were still about, having not been told of the groom’s death. For the moment, those that knew were still in shock. Especially Avalyn.
“Then you knew, too?” she looked at Barton, her voice soft and weary. “So this was nothing surprising, then?”
Barton drew in a long, slow breath. “It is not surprising. Shocking, aye. The man is only thirty three years old. But he knew his heart was bad. Why do you think he was so eager to marry? He wanted to at least have a wife to leave his estates and titles to, and hopefully any children.” Barton’s gaze fixed on her, guardedly.
“Is there… a possibility of children, my lady?”
Avalyn didn’t dare look at William, standing in the shadows just inside the doorway.
She could feel his gaze upon her, questioning, sympathetic.
So Barton must not know of Charles impotency, she thought.
Had he known, he would not have asked such a question.
She lowered her head, staring at the smoking embers in the massive hearth.
She was so very tired of lies and deception, but one more was necessary for all their sakes.
“Aye,” she murmured. “There is a possibility.”
Barton took a deep, cleansing breath as he nodded his head. It was clear that the man was struggling with his grief. The events of the past few hours had been disheartening and startling. He was still having difficulty believing it, no matter how he pretended otherwise.
“God be praised,” he said softly. His gaze lingered on Avalyn’s pale face, now illuminated by the early dawn’s light. “You are the lady of Guerdley Cross, sole commander of her armies. I am sworn to obey you to the death. What is the first order you would have me carry out, Lady Aubrey?”
Avalyn tore her eyes away from the dying embers of the hearth, focusing on the handsome blond knight with whom she had shared a strange relationship.
He’d set her straight on a good many things when her moral compass seemed to be spinning out of control; Brogan would do as she wished, William would bow to her commands, but Barton had been given the advantage of being moderately objective.
No matter what had happened between them, she had grown to trust the man. She respected him a great deal.
She rose stiffly from her chair, moving to the fading fire and throwing a lump of peat on it. William moved forward to take the duty from her, gently but firmly shoving her away.
“Lady Aubrey does not stoke her own fire,” he said, a twinkle in his tired eyes. “Answer Sir Barton. What would be your first command to us?”
She could only grin at him, wearily, before looking back to Barton. She pulled her heavy brocade cloak, the one Charles had given her, more tightly around her chilled shoulders.
“It would seem our first order of business would be to bury my husband,” she said, softly but with a commanding tone that William was familiar with. “Where is the Aubrey family crypt?”
“In the cathedral in St. Helens,” Barton told her. “I shall send someone immediately to summon the priest.”
Avalyn nodded, trying to sort out her muddled thoughts. “The guests must be told, including my uncle,” she looked at William as she made the statement, something unsettling in that idea. “This marriage was of his making, after all. He will want to know.”
William was crouched beside the fire, meeting her gaze, reading her thoughts. He knew de Neville better than anyone and knew exactly what a wealthy widowed niece would mean to him.
“You have Guerdley Cross and a great deal of wealth now, my lady,” William stood up with the poker in his hand. “I mean no slander against your uncle, as you well know, but he will insist on marrying you off immediately. You are more valuable to him now than ever.”
More burdens added to Avalyn’s weary mind.
Something ominous and sickening was settling over her.
She sought out her chair again, sinking heavily.
There was hesitance writing all over her face.
“I do not wish to marry again anytime soon,” she murmured.
“But you are correct, William. The moment he is told of Charles’ death, he will be planning my next husband. ”
Barton’s expression was one of concern mixed with duty. “He would do this, my lady? Would he give no respect to your mourning?”
She nodded strongly. “Without hesitation. And you, Sir Barton, would have a new lord, perhaps one you would not be so fond of. It would be completely out of my hands.”
Barton didn’t particularly like that thought; his gaze moved between Avalyn and William. “Then what are you suggesting?” he asked.
William’s gaze never left Avalyn’s face.
“Wait until he leaves for Warwick,” William spoke to her as if she was the only person in the room.
“Do not tell him now. Go up to your chamber and stay there until he has left. We will bury Lord Aubrey after he is gone and perhaps send him a missive in a few months when everything has settled down.”
“Or perhaps not send him one at all,” Avalyn fired back softly.
She clutched at the cloak as if it could protect her from her uncle’s evil reaches and cunning manipulation.
“Let him think what he will. Let him think that Charles is alive and well. And when he should eventually find out, perhaps… perhaps by that time I will have already married someone of my own choosing, a man that I am familiar with who possesses moral character and a noble background.”
Barton’s expression was now stamped with uncertainty.
“What about the other guests? What about the soldiers?” he looked at them as if they were bordering on insanity.
“If we tell them that Lord Aubrey has passed, the word will get back to de Neville. If we do not tell them, eventually, they will deduce that something is wrong. We cannot keep Lord Aubrey’s death hidden forever. ”
“Nay, not forever,” Avalyn looked at him. “But for the time being. Are you so eager to have a new liege, Barton?”
St. John lifted an eyebrow. “It does not matter what I want, but what is right.”
“And is it wrong for us to keep this news from my uncle? Considering all the man is and all you know him to be, what do you think he will do?” When Barton didn’t answer fast enough, she continued.
“I shall tell you what he will do; he will find a new husband for me within a few weeks at most. Guerdley Cross will cease to be an Aubrey holding and will be passed over to a rich baron or earl, or even a French mercenary. You know that my uncle has dealings with those men, too. Slimy creatures with foul habits and even fouler ethics. If that is the case and I am forced to marry someone else, then any child Charles and I might have will not inherit Guerdley Cross and the Aubrey name will cease to exist. In fact, any child born as a result of my marriage to Charles will more than likely be sent away to foster, probably never to be heard from again. Have no doubt that this could very well be the case given the greater implications of my uncle’s dealings and the wealth of this holding.
Is this something you would wish to see? ”
It was a passionate speech. By the time she was finished, Barton was gazing at her intently. His big arms were crossed, his blue eyes serious. After a moment, he slowly shook his head.
“Nay, my lady,” he said slowly. “It is not.”
It was Avalyn’s turn to cock an eyebrow. “Then you must trust me that it is best if no one knows of Charles’ passing but those of us in this room.”
Barton drew in a long, contemplative death. He looked at William, reading his expression, before turning back to Avalyn. “If that is your command, Lady Aubrey,” he said quietly. “I will obey it.”
Avalyn stared at the man a moment before rising to her feet.
She made her way over to him, laying a soft hand on his big arm.
Her golden eyes were sincere. “I know you do not like this, Barton,” she said softly.
“I know you are a man of truth and honor. But your world has always been one of following orders and upholding the knightly code. I come from a world where men would manipulate God himself in order to have their ways known. My uncle is such a man. Surely you know that.”
He met her gaze. “I do,” he said quietly. “And I do not disagree with your command. I said that I would obey it.”
“I know you will. But I want you to understand why. It is for Charles’ sake as well as mine. My uncle will erase the Aubrey name from this earth if he finds out I am a widow in control of Guerdley Cross. Everything Charles held dear will belong to another. I would like to hold that off if I can.”
Barton just looked at her, trying to figure out if her motives were self-serving or if she was truly being self-sacrificing. Perhaps it was a little of both. He could not blame her. “And I shall help you, my lady.”
She patted his arm gently. “Thank you,” she said softly. “Now, where did you put Charles’ body?”
“I left him in the chamber, my lady,” he replied. “Where would you like me to move him?”
She moved away from Barton, back towards the fire that was now starting to blaze. “Is there another place to keep him? Somewhere secure until we can arrange a secret burial?”
Barton thought a moment. “There are several places I can think of off-hand,” he replied. “Perhaps it is best to wait until dark before moving him, however.”
“Agreed,” she said. “I would now have you ride to St. Helen and tell the priest what has happened. Swear the man to silence in exchange for a large donation. Tell him we will have to bury him in the utmost secrecy and make arrangements for that time and place.”
“Aye, my lady,” Barton was already moving for the door. “Anything else?”
She shook her head. “Not that I can think of. Go about your business.”