Chapter Nine
“What are you looking at?”
The question came from Alixandrea. It was a warm and bright morning, the weather excellent for almost any manner of activity.
At the moment, Matthew was standing in his solar, watching something in the bailey from one of the three long lancet windows in the chamber.
As his wife came near to see what he was looking at, he pointed out of the window.
“Cinny and Cissy are riding their ponies,” he said. “I was attending to tasks this morning when I started to hear the laughter. Can you see them? Lys is with them, as are Trenton and William.”
Smiling, Alixandrea came alongside her husband, peering from the window to see her grandchildren having a marvelous time. “They look so happy,” she said. “Cissy is positively about to burst.”
Matthew grinned. “William has been asking Cinny if he can ride her pony and she keeps pushing him away,” he said. “I find that I do not want to work in here any longer. I want to go outside and play with my grandchildren.”
Alixandrea laughed softly. “Then go,” she said. “Your tasks can wait. What are you doing, anyway?”
He turned and pointed to the cluttered table behind them, full of maps and missives and any number of other things.
“As you know, Warwick Castle is a crown property since Richard Neville’s death those years ago,” he said. “It borders my lands to the north. Henry has sent me a missive asking if I wish to purchase the place. If I do, he will grant me the title Earl of Warwick.”
Alixandrea looked at him in surprise. “Earl of Warwick?” she repeated. Then, she shook her head firmly. “That title has nothing but horrific memories attached to it, Matt. Why should you want such a thing?”
Matthew grinned. “It may have horrific memories attached to it, but it is still a powerful name,” he said.
“Henry is looking for money to fill his dwindling coffers, so he is trying to sell off some of these properties. I suspect I am not the only one who has been approached about purchasing crown properties. Besides, I have four sons that I must provide for. James, as my heir, will inherit the Hereford title and Wellesbourne Castle, but there are still Thomas, Daniel, and William to provide for. The Warwick lands and title would be magnificent for Thomas.”
Alixandrea wasn’t so sure. “Thomas Wellesbourne, Earl of Warwick?” she said. “It would make him quite proud, I am sure. And he is a good boy, so he would be a credit to the title. Does Henry want a good deal of money for it?”
Matthew shrugged. “He wants a substantial amount, but the return on it would be endless.” Another happy scream from the bailey caught their attention and they both turned towards the window again. “Enough business for the day. I am going outside to ride ponies.”
Alixandrea waved him on, smiling at her happy husband. But before he could quit the chamber, she called out to him.
“Matt,” she said, somewhat hesitantly. “Where… where do you suppose Benoit is? Does it not seem strange that he has not come with his wife and children?”
Matthew was caught off-guard by the question and he paused.
Alixandrea was the mother of his children, the most beautiful, wonderful, and trustworthy woman he knew.
He’d told Trenton that he wasn’t going to tell her of Benoit’s death, and especially not of everything else Trenton had told him, but in looking at her, he couldn’t in good conscience keep the secret from her.
Alixandrea was a reasonable, wise woman and it was possible, at some point, that he would require some of that wisdom in this situation. Retracing his steps, Matthew thought on how to tell her the truth.
“I must tell you something that cannot leave this room,” he finally said. “Swear to me that you will not say anything to anyone, not even to your daughter.”
Alixandrea grew serious. “Of course, Matt,” she said. “What is it?”
What is it? Matthew didn’t even know where to start. Reaching out, he grasped her arms gently, his right hand holding her while the stump of his left wrist rubbed against her in a comforting gesture.
“Benoit is dead,” he said, watching her eyes widen.
“You needn’t concern yourself with the circumstances of his death, but know that he is dead.
Lysabel knows this, but her men and the whole of Stretford Castle do not, and that is why she has come to Wellesbourne.
She is seeking my guidance on how to proceed, but I must see Henry about this very soon.
Cinny and Cissy are the heiresses to the Sheriff of Ilchester’s title and wealth, but the king must know what has happened.
Only then will I be able to properly guide Lys in this matter. ”
Alixandrea stared at him in shock, clearly struggling to absorb the news. Finally, she spoke.
“Did… did someone kill him?” she asked.
“Aye.”
She let out a hissing sound and closed her eyes tightly, as if physically impacted by his answer. “I knew it,” she muttered. “God forgive me, I knew it. What happened? Did he finally whore with the wrong woman and her husband killed him?”
Matthew’s heart sank. “How did you know about that?”
“The whoring?” she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“I hear things, Matthew, and I have heard this for years. You did not have to tell me, but I knew. That is why I am thrilled that my daughter and grandchildren are here without that hound of a man. Lys did not deserve the disrespect Benoit showed her.”
Matthew was feeling horrible, as if he hadn’t protected his wife from the terrible rumors, and it only compounded his guilt where Lysabel was concerned.
He’d failed his daughter, and now his wife.
Furthermore, he had planned on telling Alixandrea about the beatings but from the look on her face, he didn’t think she could take it.
He could see how distressed she was about Benoit’s behavior, something she’d never expressed until this moment.
But telling her how the wretch of a man had taken his hand to their daughter…
for the moment, he would spare her that horror.
“And you kept all of this buried inside you?” he asked her quietly. “Why did you not ask me about it? Why did you not say something?”
Alixandrea’s eyes began to brim with tears but she fought them, blinking rapidly.
“And add to your pain?” she said. “I would never do that. You were already suffering guilt at your daughter’s husband’s behavior and I would not add to it.
But I have long suspected that you confronted him over it. Did he deny it?”
Matthew sighed heavily. “He did. Repeatedly.”
Alixandrea shook her head in disgust. “Then there was nothing more you could do,” she said.
“But I must say that I never liked Benoit. Did you know that? I pretended otherwise, because you seemed convinced he would be a good match for Lysabel, but there was something in the man’s eyes that betrayed the darkness of his soul.
I saw it in the way he treated his servants and his men, yet he would be sweet and kind to our daughter. I knew he had that evil streak in him.”
“And you said nothing?” he asked, incredulous.
She shook her head, feeling desperate and sad.
“What could I say? You had already committed to him and I was hoping against hope that whatever wickedness was inside of him would not turn against Lys, or if it did, that she could deal with it. She is a very strong woman. I hoped… I hoped I was wrong about him.”
Matthew could see that she was distraught, so he pulled her into his arms, holding her closely. “You were not wrong,” he muttered. “And I have a great deal to make up to Lys. Her pain is my doing, Alix. You cannot know how that hurts me.”
Alixandrea clung to him. “You could only do your best,” she said. “It is Benoit who bears the shame, not you. He is truly dead, then?”
“Truly.”
“Then I am overjoyed.” She released him, looking into his sorrowful face. “He is gone and we have our Lys back. We must look to the future to ensure her next husband is nothing like Benoit. We have been given a second chance to give her a happy life and we must be grateful for it.”
There was that wisdom he depended on her for; her outlook to the future, to hope. She was right in all things. Matthew kissed her.
“I am grateful,” he said. “For Lys and for you. Now, if there is nothing more to say on the matter, I am going to go and ride ponies. I am going to enjoy this moment and be thankful for it.”
Alixandrea smiled encouragingly and he kissed her one more time before quitting the chamber and heading out into the busy, dusty bailey.
Thankful, indeed.
With the sun on his face, Matthew’s attention moved from his wife to the ponies, once again drawn in by more happy screams. He focused on the two small ponies trotting I circles around Trenton, while his youngest son, William, ran in circles with the ponies, grabbing at the girls and teasing them.
That was where the happy screams were coming from.
William was his wild child, so full of life and delight that he reminded Matthew very much of his own long-dead brother, Luke.
Luke Wellesbourne had been a redheaded force of nature, loved by the women, and passionate about life in general.
He had lost his life at the Battle of Bosworth, the same battle where Matthew lost his left hand, and there wasn’t a day that went by when Matthew didn’t miss him.
Still, seeing William and how much he behaved, and looked, like Luke often eased that grief of a long-dead brother.
Sometimes he was even glad Luke wasn’t around anymore because he was certain that between William and Luke, England would be in a good deal of trouble as the wild boys of Wellesbourne went on a rampage of wine, women, and more wine, leaving Matthew to make excuses for their behavior and pay off the irate fathers of compromised women.
But, God, he would have loved to have had the opportunity. It would have been a small price to pay for having Luke back.