Chapter Fifteen
Wellesbourne Castle
Matthew had seen the color of the banners from the approaching party and, even at a distance, he knew who it was.
He wasn’t surprised.
High in his bower in the keep of Wellesbourne, he wasn’t surprised that Gaston de Russe was approaching, but he was angry.
Angry that the man should exhaust himself so, making the trip from Deverill Castle all the way to Wellesbourne.
In hindsight, perhaps Matthew should have preemptively gone to Deverill Castle since he knew the situation with Trenton would warrant a meeting with the man’s father.
He didn’t need to be a soothsayer to know that.
Therefore, he watched the distant approach of the de Russe party, coming in just before sunset with a sky that was shades of deep blue, with pink clouds creating a brilliant splash of color.
He loved sunsets like this, something that reminded him of the joy of life every single day, but that joy was somewhat diminished over the past few days.
He was a man in turmoil.
In the days that Trenton had been gone from Wellesbourne, Matthew had been given a lot of time to think about the situation.
The truth was that he hadn’t wanted to hurt Trenton.
He’d known the knight his entire life and had loved him like a son, but he was a son with a good many problems and Matthew didn’t want his daughter attached to a man with such demons.
That was the bottom line.
Lysabel was recovering from an abusive marriage and although Trenton had saved her from that horrible situation, and it was clear that there was a good deal of affection between them, Matthew simply couldn’t allow his daughter to become the mistress to a married man no matter how much she adored him.
He kept going back to that conclusion every time he tried to re-examine his decision.
Had he done the right thing?
Had he been unnecessarily cruel?
No, he didn’t think so. Lysabel deserved better.
Matthew knew his refusal to condone such a thing had crushed Trenton.
That had been clear in the man’s face and Matthew’s nature with those he loved was to be kind and generous.
But he simply couldn’t give his permission for Lysabel to carry on a clandestine relationship with Trenton.
In his heart, he couldn’t. It wasn’t right and they all knew it.
His daughter deserved the chance to become a wife to a fine man, and her daughters deserved a father-figure who was kind and honorable, and who didn’t do the king’s dirty work.
A man who didn’t kill on command.
Like Gaston, Matthew held that same opinion of Trenton’s service.
Matthew knew that was what Gaston was coming to discuss, among other things.
It didn’t matter that Gaston and Trenton had suffered a somewhat contentious and complex relationship as adults; Trenton had gone straight to his father with what had happened and Gaston, like any good parent, was coming to see what he could do to help his son, only in this case, he was coming to the home of his very best friend.
Matthew didn’t know if that friendship made the situation better or worse.
“Matt?”
Matthew turned to see his wife standing behind him. Alixandrea was dressed in a flowing gown, with her hair pinned upon her head. She entered their bedchamber, a smile on her lips as she headed for her husband.
“Gaston is coming,” she said quietly, “but I am guessing that you already know that.”
Matthew returned her smile. “I can see his party from here,” he said. “I was just going down to greet him.”
Alixandrea’s smile faded as she gazed up into her husband’s face. “He should not have come.”
“I know.”
“His health…”
“I know, love. I know.”
She sighed sadly and he kissed her on the forehead. Taking a deep breath, he moved past her, leaving Alixandrea looking after him.
“Do you think Trenton asked him to come?” she said. “If he knew Gaston was ill, surely he would not have asked it of him.”
Matthew paused by the door, his fingers on the jamb. “Gaston and Trenton do not speak,” he said. “I cannot imagine that even in the rare conversations they have had as of late, that Gaston has told his son of his declining health. Gaston did not even tell me about it; it was Remi who did.”
Alixandrea closed the gap between them, her hands going to his shoulders in comfort. “Does he know that you know?”
Matthew’s lips tightened, an emotional response to an emotional subject, pain in his heart that was strangling him. “He knows.”
Alixandrea patted him on the cheek, seeing how much the situation distressed him. “Then go and greet him,” she said. “I will have refreshments sent to your solar.”
“Thank you, love.”
Leaving his wife behind, and stewing in his own gloomy thoughts, Matthew made his way down to the entry of the keep, stepping out into the pink-sky sunset and watching as the first of the de Russe party began to filter in through the gatehouse of Wellesbourne.
The first things he noticed were two big knights charging into the bailey astride very expensive, and slightly green, warhorses.
Both animals were frothing and agitated, and Matthew grinned when the blue roan animal twisted oddly and nearly dumped off his rider.
It was enough for the knight to swiftly dismount, unwilling to be thrown at the end of a long trip, and Matthew approached Boden de Russe as the knight flipped up his visor.
“Damnable beast,” he said, shaking his finger at the horse as if the animal could understand him. “If I hadn’t spent a year’s salary on you, I’d chop you up and feed you to the dogs!”
“What is the matter, Boden?” Matthew asked as he walked up. “As I recall, you told your father you could ride anything on four legs and as I further recall, it was he who bought you this horse even when he told you the bloodlines were questionable.”
Boden turned to Matthew, a young man with his father’s size, his father’s good looks, and his mother’s pale eyes. He also had her smile, which he demonstrated brightly as he hugged his father’s best friend.
“Uncle Matthew,” he said. “It is good to see you. And to answer your assertion, my father does not know everything. He could be wrong, you know.”
“Will you tell him that to his face?”
Boden burst out laughing. “Not me,” he said. “I would never tell The Dark One anything like that for fear I might come away missing teeth, or worse. Besides… if I ever want him to buy me anything again, I will have to pretend as if I appreciate this wild mount.”
Matthew gave the young knight an affectionate cuff to the side of the head, grinning when the horse began to act up and ended up dragging Boden away.
As Boden tried to calm the horse, Matthew continued on to the other knight, who was having better luck with a big dappled gray. Gage de Russe waved to Matthew.
“Uncle Matthew!” he called. “Look at my latest acquisition!”
He was indicating the horse, who was standing still for the most part in a rather regal pose. Matthew ran a practiced eye over the beast.
“Magnificent,” he said. “Between you and your brother, it appears you got the better horse.”
Gage watched Boden, older than him by a year and a half, as the man tried to calm his excited steed. “He told my father he wanted the blue roan, and my father tried to tell him that the horse’s sire was mad,” he said. “I have no sympathy for him.”
Matthew clapped him on the shoulder. “Nor I,” he said, turning to the rest of the incoming party and spying Gaston on his big, sleek stallion. “Ah. There is your father. I will send William out to you to help you settle your men.”
Gage’s face lit up; he and William were nearly the same age and had long been good friends. “Willie is here?”
“He is. He has just returned from my garrison at Kington Castle.”
Gage nodded happily and Matthew patted him on the shoulder before making his way through the group of dismounting soldiers until he came to Gaston.
There was dust and chaos in the air all around him, of men and animals settling in after a long journey, but Matthew didn’t see any of that.
He only saw the enormous knight in front of him, and he took a moment to watch the man as he slowly, and wearily, dismounted his horse.
Someone came to collect the animal, leading the sweaty beast off to the stables, and Matthew’s heart sank as he watched Gaston’s laborious movements.
This wasn’t the man he knew.
Gaston was the biggest man he’d ever seen, and the strongest, but the past couple of years had seen that strength decline significantly.
A cancer, Remington had written to Matthew.
Physics from London, the best he was told, had diagnosed Gaston with a cancer in his throat, or so they suspected.
The man had a cough he couldn’t shake, which had apparently gone on for a year before he allowed the physics to diagnose him.
The news hadn’t been good.
But no one knew, according to Remington.
Gaston hadn’t wanted to tell anyone, his children included, and when he realized his wife had told Matthew, he’d been upset with her, but not for long.
Perhaps it was good that one person knew of his condition because, certainly, he’d never hidden anything from Matthew. He wasn’t about to start now.
He needed to lean on that friendship more than ever.
But Matthew wasn’t dealing well with the news.
The greatest knight he’d ever known was suffering from a cancer and trying to pretend as if nothing was amiss.
Gaston was proud that way and Matthew knew it.
Therefore, he wouldn’t insult his friend by acknowledging what they both knew – that Gaston’s time on this earth was limited.
To Matthew, that made their remaining time together all the more precious.
As Matthew lingered in thoughts that were tearing at him, Gaston went through a series of heavy coughs before turning to see Matthew standing a few feet away. Once their eyes met, Matthew forced a smile and approached, reaching out a hand to Gaston. The man took it strongly.