Chapter Twelve #2
Blayth nodded. “I was told about her,” he said. “But only that there was a widow as the result of Ronan’s friend being killed. From what I was told by my nephews, Ronan promised to take care of the woman and Ravenscar. The promise was made on the man’s deathbed, Edmund. What was he supposed to do?”
Edmund waved him off, irritated. “Did he also promise to bed the woman?” he snapped.
“Did you know that Marian accompanied him to Ravenscar for propriety’s sake but that he sent her away shortly after their arrival?
Marian has been in London with her cousin for the past few months while Ronan and the widow of his friend are carrying on.
Now the widow is pregnant and I demand justice for this slanderous behavior against my daughter. ”
Blayth just stared at the man for a moment.
In truth, he didn’t trust himself to answer.
It was true that he was shocked by the allegations but he was more shocked by Edmund’s self-righteous attitude.
Blayth knew the history of Ronan and Marian’s marriage better than anyone, so the more he thought about Edmund’s demand, the more offended he became.
He stood up and paced away from the table, contemplating what his reply would be.
“Edmund,” he said slowly, turning to face the man. “May I ask a question?”
Edmund was impatient with the lack of immediate response. “Ask anything.”
Blayth folded his enormous arms across his chest. “When Ronan and Marian’s first daughter was born and she looked nothing like my son and everything like a de Grey knight who had been rather solicitous towards Marian, did I demand satisfaction that your daughter had given birth to another man’s child? ”
Edmund’s jaw popped open in outrage. “What do you mean by that?”
Blayth wasn’t going to let the man bully him.
“You know exactly what I mean,” he growled.
“Marian has given birth to three children, all from different fathers, and everyone in the north knows it. Your daughter was a whore when she seduced my son and she has been a whore ever since. Have I ever demanded satisfaction? Have I ever demanded that you punish her for shaming the de Wolfe name every hour of every day since she took her vows of marriage? I’ve not said a word because I was concerned for our alliance, but if you’ve come here to slander my son with these foolish accusations, I will tell you plainly now that I am no longer concerned for our alliance.
If I were you, I would be concerned for the very welfare of my properties.
You will not like it if I turn the de Wolfe armies on you. You will not survive.”
Edmund was on his feet by now, shock and fear and outrage rippling across his face. “You dare say such things about my daughter?”
“Deny them. I dare you. I can find a hundred men who would tell you differently.”
Edmund opened his mouth to reply but he knew, as Blayth did, that he couldn’t refute anything that was said for it was all true.
It was simply something they never spoke of.
Edmund pretended it was a family secret and Blayth never said anything because he was concerned for the alliance, as he had said.
But now… now, no one was concerned for such things any longer.
The situation was deteriorating quickly.
“I will not stand here and let you insult my daughter, de Wolfe,” Edmund said, moving away from the table. “Your son has…”
“My son, if the allegations are proven true, has done nothing your daughter hasn’t done a hundred times over.”
Edmund was starting to turn red in the face. “Then you will do nothing?”
Blayth was tracking the man as he moved near the entry door.
“I will not punish him if that is what you are asking,” he said.
“I will, however, go to Ravenscar and discover the truth for myself. But I will not let you level threats against Ronan. If he did what you say he did, then he was only following his wife’s example. ”
Edmund was so angry that he was twitching. “Speak ill of her one more time and our alliance is finished.”
Blayth cocked an eyebrow. “I want you to listen to me carefully, Edmund, because it is important,” he said with thinly held patience.
“I am going to Ravenscar to discover the truth of what you have said. If it turns out to be false, I will march on your home of Borwick Castle and raze it to the ground in punishment for speaking ill against my son. If the rumors prove to be true, however, I will not punish him. I will encourage him to divorce Marian, which he has more than enough grounds to do. I have advised him against it all of these years because I wanted to keep our alliance, but if you say it is finished, then there is no reason for him to remain married to her. I will encourage him to divorce her and it will ruin her. No decent man will ever marry her again.”
Edmund was breathing heavily with pent-up emotion.
He wanted to explode at Blayth, but he didn’t want to find himself in a sword fight because he knew he couldn’t win.
He’d been able to bully Blayth de Wolfe for ten years, but that domination was ended.
Blayth was taking a stand when it came to his son’s reputation and Edmund understood that completely.
Frankly, he wondered what had taken the man so long to do it, for Marian had indeed been shaming the de Wolfe name for many years.
Now, it seemed that de Wolfe would have the last laugh.
His stomach began to churn.
“I am her father,” he said, starting to feel some desperation as the tables were turned on him.
“Marian was always a… difficult child. Do I know those children she has given birth to are not de Wolfe offspring? Of course I know. But she is my daughter. I am not supposed to see the bad in her. I am only supposed to love her because she is my child.”
Blayth wasn’t in a forgiving mood. “Yet you attack my son based on a rumor,” he said. “I am not sure I can forgive that, Edmund. Ronan… he is special to me. He is my first born. He does not deserve what Marian has done to him.”
Edmund sighed heavily, struggling to gain control of his emotions. “I know,” he said. “He is a good lad. But Marian behaves as she does and he says nothing.”
“Because I told him not to out of respect for the de Wolfe and de Grey names,” Blayth said quietly.
“You know this. Sometimes it is better not to say anything at all. That would be giving attention to the situation and sometimes that makes it worse. We all have demons that we struggle with and Marian happens to be Ronan’s. ”
Those were wise words. Edmund hung his head. “Then what will you do now?”
“I told you,” Blayth said. “I will go to Ravenscar and discover the truth for myself. But until I do, you will say nothing of the rumors. Keep them to yourself, as I have done with Marian all these years. When I discover the truth, I will send you word.”
Edmund nodded and slowly, wearily, returned to his seat at the table. It seemed that the situation was over, for now, and the dull apprehension of what the future would bring settled. Edmund really didn’t want to break the alliance.
He was starting to feel like a fool.
“Please,” he said quietly. “Please do not seek a divorce. Please do not shame my family like that, Blayth. Although you have every right, I beg you not to do it. It will ruin Marian and her sisters, her nieces… something like that has far-reaching implications. Not just with my family, but with yours as well. It would be a stain we could never recover from.”
Blayth knew that. It was the worst possible social and religious curse for the family of the woman at fault, but it would also disparage the House of de Wolfe, too, for bringing it about. His angry stance began to waver.
“If I do not, then you must speak to your daughter about it,” he said.
“I know you have not interfered with Marian’s behavior in the past but know that I will advise Ronan to divorce her if she continues along her present path.
If she gives up her wild ways and becomes a good wife, I will not consider it, but if she does not… ”
Edmund understood. “Say no more,” he said. “I know what I must do.”
“Then make sure you do it.”
Edmund nodded wearily. “I will,” he said. Then he looked at the table before him. “May I at least rest for the night before going home?”
He sounded utterly defeated. Blayth went back to the table as well, standing opposite of Edmund now rather than next to him, as a friend would. “You may stay as long as you wish,” he said. “But we will not speak of Ronan or Marian anymore.”
“Agreed.”
“Would you like to see Priscilla?”
Edmund’s tired face lit up, just a little. “How is my youngest grandchild?”
Blayth nodded. “She is well,” he said. “I will send for her.”
While Edmund drowned himself in more wine, Blayth headed out of the hall through a servants’ entrance that would take him into the keep.
He found that he needed to get clear of Edmund and calm his anger.
He was no sooner through it and heading into a dark, stone-lined passage than someone grasped his arm from behind.
Startled, he turned to see his wife behind him.
“Christ,” he muttered. “You nearly scared the wits from me. I was about to unsheathe a dagger and start slashing.”
Asmara grinned. “And I would defend myself and you would be in a world of pain,” she said. But she quickly sobered. “I heard what was said, that terrible man.”
Blayth grunted with disapproval. “You know better than to eavesdrop on my conversations.”
Asmara shrugged. “Not when the conversation is with Edmund de Grey and he comes to Roxburgh unannounced,” she said. “I am inclined to cut out that man’s tongue for what he said about Ronan. You know it is not true.”
Blayth nodded. “It would be out of character for him, I agree,” he said.
“But Titus told me that the de Brito widow is quite beautiful. A beautiful, vulnerable widow and Ronan never knowing any comfort from his own wife… I am not saying he did what de Grey said he did, but the truth is that he is human. In a moment of weakness, he could have…”
He didn’t need to finish. They both knew that he was right, though Asmara didn’t want to admit it.
She had not given birth to Ronan – he was a product of Blayth’s first marriage in the days when he was James de Wolfe, before a severe head injury in battle had robbed him of his memory of his previous life – but she loved the man as if she’d given birth to him. She was fiercely protective of him.
But as her husband said, he was only human.
“He does not need the temptation,” she said after a moment. “What if the de Brito widow is using grief to her advantage and playing upon his sympathies? Ronan has a good heart. He would want to comfort her and if it became more, surely it is not his fault.”
Blayth could only shake his head. “He is a grown man,” he said.
“He can make his own decisions. But you are right when you say that he does not need the temptation, nor does he need the burden of being responsible for another man’s property and family.
He has been there for several months. When will he decide that he has done enough for his friend and the man’s widow?
And if she is keeping him there with emotional guilt and grief, does he plan to stay forever? ”
Asmara was unhappy at the thought of an opportunistic widow. “What she needs is another husband,” she said. “One to fill the void that Ronan now fills.”
Blayth cocked his head thoughtfully. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that we should find her one,” Asmara said pointedly. “She needs a husband and it cannot be Ronan. If this situation is not changed, it will ruin his life and his reputation, all because he was honorable in helping his friend.”
Blayth thought on that. “I fear you may be right,” he said. “I will go to Ravenscar, find her a new husband, and bring Ronan back with me to Roxburgh. No more gossip, no more problems.”
“But where will you find her a husband?”
Blayth scratched his head. “Good question,” he said. “Any ideas?”
Asmara thought quickly. “It is not as if you can go from town to town, looking for one,” she said. “It must be someone we know, someone who we can convince.”
“You mean coerce.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Convince or coerce, it is all the same thing,” she said. “But who do we know?”
Blayth sighed. “I cannot think of anyone,” he said. “Mayhap by tomorrow I will… wait. I think I may know of someone.”
“Who?”
“De Litton.”
Asmara’s eyes widened. “Of course!” she gasped. “Randolph de Litton is perfect! He was only just turned down by the Wakefield lass over at Chillingham Castle. His heart was broken from what Garr told us. What better way to heal a broken heart than with a new and willing wife?”
They were speaking of an older knight, big and rather clumsy but quite kind and likable, who had been unlucky in securing a wife during his adult lifetime.
It wasn’t for lack of trying. He was simply big and awkward, with no real wealth or prestige, and women tended not to notice him because of it.
He had been vying for the hand of one of the Wakefield daughters from Chillingham Castle, about twenty miles south of Roxburgh, until the woman decided on another, more handsome knight from Nottingham.
Yet again, Randolph was jilted for someone else, so the truth was that he’d be perfect for a young widow whose prospects weren’t all that good.
And Ronan would be free of whatever pledge he’d given the widow, and her husband.
“It is the best possible solution,” Blayth said. “Let me see if I can convince Randolph that being lord of his own manse is more appealing than remaining at Roxburgh and fighting Scots.”
“I think it is a brilliant idea.”
“As do I,” Blayth said. “I will find him tonight. Meanwhile, you will bring Priscilla to Edmund. He’d like to see his granddaughter.”
Asmara wasn’t thrilled with having to have contact with Edmund, but she obeyed.
As Blayth went in search of someone to save his son from a preying widow, Asmara collected Marian’s youngest daughter, who lived with them, and took her to see her grandfather.
What she didn’t expect was for Edmund to burst into tears when he saw her.
That told Asmara that Edmund was more heartbroken about Marian than he let on.
Heartbroken about his wayward daughter.