Chapter Eight
“The lady looks quite… different.”
That was Christopher talking. It was the voice of a shocked man as he watched Elle plow into some food that had been brought in for his morning meal.
But when Curtis had shown up with this beautiful blonde creature with the brilliant blue eyes, she looked at the food so longingly that Christopher immediately offered it to her.
She’d taken it quickly.
“Aye, she does,” Curtis said. He was watching her eat, too. “A bath and decent clothing can do wonders.”
Christopher nodded faintly. “She’s magnificent, Curt,” he said softly. “I truly had no idea.”
“Nor did I.”
“That should make the marriage more palatable.”
Curtis looked at him. “Is that why you summoned me?”
Christopher tore his gaze away from Elle and looked at his son. “Aye,” he said. “Partially, anyway. I wanted to tell you that I’ve sent Roi into the village of Presteigne to summon a priest.”
“Why?”
“Because you are going to marry Lady Elle today,” Christopher said quietly. “There is no reason to wait, so let us get this done so I may tell Henry we have a marriage and Brython is now garrisoned for the English by my son and his Welsh wife.”
Curtis nodded in a gesture of acceptance, his gaze moving to Elle as she wolfed down some cheese.
“Things are calm at the moment,” he said.
“She is not unreasonable, but that is because I have been the only person she has been around since yesterday. When West brought her cousin to the tent earlier, it turned into a brawl. Nearly the same thing that happened when she saw her brother yesterday. Where is her brother, by the way?”
“I’ve sent the man back to his home of Tywyl Castle,” Christopher said. “He is about ten miles to the east, and he is your ally. I would suggest you pay him a visit at some point soon. You do not want that relationship to be neglected.”
Curtis lifted his eyebrows. “That will be a delicate situation,” he said. “The lady has no love for her brother, so to keep him as an ally will be a supreme feat of diplomacy. I do not want to anger her, but I also do not want her trying to thrash her brother every time she sees him.”
Christopher looked at his son—brilliant, strong, a truly fine example of a noble knight.
He was so proud of the man that he was close to bursting every time he spoke of him.
He loved his other sons, of course, and was equally proud of them for many reasons, but Curtis was his shining star.
In this very volatile situation, he wanted nothing more for him than to succeed.
“If anyone can walk that fine line, it is you,” he said quietly. “But I will also make a suggestion that may help.”
“What is that?”
“I would suggest you bring Brython to a state of normalcy very quickly,” he said.
“Set schedules, set posts, and get about to the repairs immediately. A sense of routine is what you need to make your vassals feel safe and as if the situation is moving forward calmly. And you must reach out to your neighbors quickly as well. Shrewsbury, Wolverhampton, Wrexham, Trelystan… All of them. They must know that Curtis de Lohr now holds Brython Castle. And it is very important that you introduce your wife as a princess of Powys. Lady Elle’s bloodlines will bring you prestige. ”
Curtis eyed his father with some suspicion. “As if the de Lohr name wasn’t prestigious enough?” he said. “I am coming to think you are placing great value on your son marrying into Welsh royalty.”
Christopher shrugged. “Would you feel better if you married a miller’s daughter?”
“I would feel better if you started viewing Elle as a woman and not simply a figure of royal blood.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Curtis lowered his voice. “I mean that I have had a few conversations with her,” he said. “She views her royal blood not as you do. She had a father who ignored her and a brother who took what affection the man had. She was left to fend for herself.”
“I know that.”
“But what you don’t know is that she is bright and feels deeply about things,” Curtis said.
“She is not proud that she is a daughter of Gwenwynwyn because she views the man and her brother as a traitor. Look at the way she is eating, Papa—this is a woman who has not had an easy life. She eats like that because she probably does not know where, or when, her next meal is coming. She’s never known safety or security of any kind. ”
Christopher watched Elle as she chugged down a cup of watered wine. “I had a long conversation with her brother,” he said. “He told me basically the same thing. She was left to her grandmother to raise for a few years, a woman who was part of Llywelyn’s family.”
Curtis looked at him in surprise. “Are you serious?”
Christopher nodded. “The old woman evidently filled her head with poison against the English and against her own family,” he said.
“Gruffydd says that Elle is intelligent and quite educated, but she has a very narrow view of the Welsh and English relationship. As Gruffydd put it, she hates the English as the church hates Lucifer.”
Curtis was listening with interest. “What else did he say?”
“That you should take care with her,” Christopher said quietly. “Caution would be prudent, at least until you come to know her better. Do not allow her any daggers, no opportunity to arm herself. Treat her like the enemy, Curt, because she is for now. You must not let your guard down.”
Curtis digested that information. He had been feeling somewhat comfortable around Elle, but his father’s words had him tensing again. He finally shook his head.
“I am marrying her, Papa,” he said. “By your command, might I remind you. I cannot go the rest of my life being wary of my wife. That will be exhausting and unfair.”
Christopher lifted a hand to ease him. “I am not saying that you must do it forever,” he said.
“But the truth is that we only captured her yesterday. Everything is still new, still uncertain. Just be careful around her for the time being. She is going to have to earn your trust, just as you are going to have to earn hers. It will take time.”
That was a true statement, but Curtis was back to feeling as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to marry her.
“I have asked her to show me Brython,” he said. “I suppose I will have to keep her with me constantly for a while, at least until we start to trust one another.”
Christopher could hear the resignation in his tone.
“If it is any consolation, when your mother and I were married, she fought me at every turn,” he said.
“And I do mean literally. In hindsight, I wasn’t very pleasant to her, but your mother was as out of control as a wet cat.
She fought with me, insulted me, disobeyed me…
Everything possible she could do against me, she did.
It was hell for the first few weeks of our marriage. ”
Curtis cracked a smile. “Mama is the Queen of the Firebrands,” he said. “As a lad, she used to terrify me. She was so loving and sweet, but if I did something wrong, she wasn’t afraid to swat me on the behind.”
“She still isn’t.”
Curtis chuckled. “Nay, she isn’t.”
Christopher grinned alongside him. “My point is that I had to suffer with a wild woman when I first married, too,” he said.
“All I can tell you is that you must be patient and understanding. You must be thoughtful. That will go a very long way. But do not let her get away with any disobedience. That is something you must never accept.”
Curtis sighed heavily. “I have a feeling that is easier said than done.”
“That is quite true.”
The conversation lagged at that point, but not uncomfortably so.
Christopher went to speak to Becker, just outside the tent, while Curtis stood near the opening and watched Elle devour his father’s morning meal.
He couldn’t say that speaking with his father had given him courage for what he must do, but at least he felt better informed for what he was taking on.
He hoped so, anyway.
Christopher returned to the tent.
“My army will be mobilizing today,” he told Curtis.
“I am leaving you a thousand men, however, along with Myles and Asa. You already have Amaro and Hugo, so that will be three strong knights and Asa, who wants very badly to be a knight. He fights better than some men who have been doing it all their lives. And I’ll see if Sherry wants to leave Andrew with you. He could use the experience.”
He was referring to Andrew de Sherrington, Curtis’ nephew.
He was still quite young, but he was an excellent warrior already.
It would be good for him to be away from his father for a time, experiencing another castle, learning from men other than his father and grandfather. Curtis wasn’t opposed to having him.
“If you think it would be good for him,” he said. “I think I can use all the help I can get.”
Christopher clapped him on the shoulder. “I have complete faith in you, lad,” he said. “Now, will you tell the lady that today is her wedding day, or shall I?”
Curtis indicated Elle sitting several feet away. “You will tell her,” he said. “You are the one making the decisions, so that is your privilege.”
Taking his son’s invitation, Christopher went over to the table where Elle was licking the butter from a big, flat knife. When she saw him approach, she quickly set it down, looking at him with an expression between fear and curiosity. He smiled politely.
“Are you feeling better today, my lady?” he asked. “I see that my wife’s garment fits you.”
Elle looked down at herself, quickly brushing away a few crumbs in her lap. “It does.”
“May I tell you something about it?”
She appeared puzzled. “If you would like to, you may.”
Christopher’s sky-blue eyes glimmered. “That garment was the second dress I ever saw my wife wear many years ago,” he said. “You see, when I first met her, she was hanging from a tree, and—”
“Hanging from a tree?” Elle said, interrupting him. “A fine lady?”