Chapter Three #2
Caledonia suspected the king hadn’t told Thor everything about her situation.
All the nasty little details that one didn’t like to make known, especially in delicate negotiations like this.
Perhaps if the man knew, he might very well put up more of a fight and Henry would have both of them vigorously opposed to the union.
Perhaps it would be too much for him and he would surrender.
She was willing to take the chance.
“I understand the situation for what it is, your grace,” she said.
“What you see is not a tantrum, but genuine concern for Sir Thor. I assume you’ve not told him of my uncle and cousin?
If not, you should have. If he is going to become the Earl of Tamworth, then he should know there are others who greatly covet the title. ”
As Thor’s brow furrowed at the mention of an uncle and cousin he’d not yet heard of, Henry quickly turned to him.
“She is correct,” he said. “The lady has an uncle who has been a thorn in my side for years. I was going to tell you of it but the opportunity did not present itself.”
It was clear that Caledonia had forced his hand into confessing something he wasn’t ready to confess.
Not until he at least had a hint of Thor’s agreement.
But now, Henry was compelled to come clean.
If he didn’t tell Thor everything, the lady surely would, and Thor seemed to sense that because his gaze lingered on Caledonia for a moment before he turned his attention to Henry.
“What does she mean?” he asked. “Who covets the title?”
“Rotri de Wylde.”
Thor’s eyebrows lifted in recognition. “I know of him,” he said. “Lord Dordon.”
“That is correct,” Henry said. “Rotri is Robert de Tosni’s brother.”
Thor nodded as if suddenly remembering that. “I know his son, Domnall,” Thor said. “But Dordon and his son fought with Simon de Montfort.”
Henry nodded. “Indeed, they did,” he said.
“While I did not confiscate their lands because Robert asked me not to, and Robert was ever-loyal to me, that does not mean I forgive Rotri or his son for what they have done. Since Robert’s death, Rotri has done everything he could to obtain the Tamworth earldom.
He has been in London for the past several months, in fact, trying to convince the church to issue a papal dispensation to allow Domnall to marry Lady de Tosni, thereby assuming the Tamworth earldom. ”
Thor was starting to catch on. The entire reason Henry wanted him to marry Lady de Tosni was now blatantly obvious. “And that is why you pledged her to me,” he said. “To prevent this.”
Henry simply cocked his head in a gesture that conveyed Thor was correct. The implication was clear and now… now, the betrothal was starting to make more sense. Thor thought it was something that Henry had abruptly decided, but he could see by the expression on the king’s face that it wasn’t.
The man had a reason for it.
To keep it away from Dordon.
“Now I understand,” Thor said. “Rotri must not have found a prince of the church willing to issue such a thing, and you fear that he might. With enough money, even a papal representative can be coerced.”
“He tried to gain my consent right after Robert died,” Caledonia said, sounding far more like a reasonable woman than she had since Thor had met her.
When Thor and Henry turned to look at her, she seemed almost calm about it.
“Rotri has always coveted what my father had. He was my father’s heir until my brother was born and, oddly, he didn’t seem to covet the earldom when Constantine was alive.
I suppose he was resigned to the laws of inheritance at that point, but when Constantine died and I became the heiress, he became quite… strange.”
Thor looked at her seriously. “Strange?” he said. “How?”
Caledonia pondered his question as she sat down, rather heavily. The alcohol and the mushrooms had given her a headache and reality was starting to set in. She didn’t like reality much.
But at the moment, she had to face it.
“I was married to Robert when my brother died,” she said.
“That meant Robert was to be the next Earl of Tamworth when my father passed away because of his marriage to me, the Tamworth heiress. At first, Rotri was vocally opposed to it. He was angry and told anyone who would listen that he should be the next earl. He tried to get close to Robert and become an ally, but Robert did not trust him. That offended him greatly. When Robert died, however, Rotri was back—this time, to try to convince me that I needed to marry Domnall. When I refused, for I would not marry Domnall if he was the very last man in England, Rotri tried to find a priest who would petition for a papal dispensation. It would be a consanguine marriage because we are cousins. So far, Rotri has not found a priest who will support his quest but I am certain he will not stop until he does.”
So there it was, concisely outlined. It put a different cast on the situation, to be sure. As Thor digested the information, Henry turned to him.
“Now you know everything,” he said. “Rotri de Wylde covets Tamworth, so when you marry the lady—the lone de Wylde heiress—I am certain you will become his mortal enemy.”
Thor snorted softly. “That matters not to me,” he said. “If I were Rotri, I would worry about provoking my wrath if he angers me.”
As Henry nodded sincerely, Caledonia spoke quietly. “Robert was positive that Rotri tried to kill him at least twice,” she said. “My uncle is a man with no conscience. He is not beyond murder to get his wants. You should know that if you and I are wed, he will consider you a target.”
Thor gave her a half-grin. “If he thinks he can hit this target, I invite him to try.”
“Then it does not concern you?”
“Hardly,” Thor said. But his smile quickly faded. “You have been the sole heiress for some time now, since your husband’s death. Has he tried to move against you?”
She shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “He would rather I marry his son. Rotri is a believer in bloodlines.”
Henry seized on the moment. “Would you not rather have Thor as your husband than your pimple-faced cousin, Lady de Tosni?” he said. “Clearly, Thor would be able to defend you against your uncle. Rotri would have no chance at all against Thor de Reyne, the man once known as El Martillo.”
Bewilderment washed over Caledonia’s features. “What does that mean?”
“The Hammer,” Thor said hesitantly. “I served with a mercenary army years ago—my uncle’s army, Uncle Varro—in Navarre. I was given the name by his men.”
Strangely enough, she seemed interested in that. “The Hammer,” she repeated. “Because of your prowess in battle?”
Thor nodded. “There were a few reasons,” he said, not wanting to divulge that one of the reasons had to do with his sexual adventures with willing maidens. “It is because of my skill in warfare, but also because Thor is the god of the Northmen who carries a hammer in battle.”
Caledonia let her gaze linger on him a moment, nodding, but kept silent.
For the first time since their introduction, she seemed to be interested in him.
“I know,” she said. “I studied with a priest who was fond of the history of gods in different cultures. I remember Thor and Odin and the rest. But you have no Northman blood, so you are not named after the god?”
Thor shook his head. “As I told you, my bloodlines are Visigoth,” he said. “Mayhap there is some Northman mixed in there, but my name, Thorington, is my mother’s maiden name.”
As she nodded, Henry chimed in. “He has a twin,” he said. “Did he tell you that he has a brother who looks just like him?”
Caledonia shook her head. “We’ve hardly spoken, your grace,” she said. “He has not had the opportunity to tell me everything about him.”
Henry simply nodded, his gaze fixed on her, but there was something in his expression that suggested he wasn’t finished with this conversation or this situation.
Not in the least. The lady was calmer now, which was a blessing, and Thor seemed to have returned to his normal cool demeanor.
Henry was grateful. But he had something to accomplish here and wasn’t going to stop until he had.
“Thor,” he said, “send Peregrine to me.”
Peregrine was Henry’s favorite servant. The man did anything that was asked of him and probably wielded more power than almost anyone in court, much to the distress of Henry’s more official courtiers.
Without hesitation, Thor went to the main entry doors, opening them and sticking his head out.
He didn’t see who he was looking for, so he went to a secondary pair of doors.
There, he found the man he’d been seeking and Peregrine de Grasse entered on Thor’s heels.
He was a tall man, older, with thin white hair.
He moved swiftly toward Henry, who looked at Thor and pointed to the lady.
“Take Lady de Tosni to the other end of the hall and wait for me,” he said. “Go.”
Thor did as he was told. He went to Caledonia, who was sitting down, and indicated the other side of the hall.
With resignation, she rose and moved with Thor to their destination.
There was a table that contained a bowl of fruit—small green apples, green pears, and fat plums—and a pewter pitcher with the king’s seal on it and several small, and dirty, cups.
There were also chairs, but neither one of them sat down.
They were watching Henry as he engaged in a quiet conversation with Peregrine, who was nodding eagerly.
“What do you think he is telling him?” Caledonia finally asked.
Thor was watching the pair. “I am not certain,” he said. “But it is possible he is arranging for some kind of celebration on the event of our betrothal.”
Caledonia looked at him. “But I’ve not agreed to this.”
Thor was still looking at Henry. “Henry does not need your agreement,” he said. Then he looked at her. “Nor does he need mine. This is what he wants, and we will obey.”