Chapter Eight
“I will not be kept from my own daughter, Gates,” Jasper said sternly. “I have ordered you to bring her down to the hall. Since when do you refuse an order?”
It was early in the morning the day following Kathalin’s arrival at Hyssington. The clouds were heavy this morning, pewter in the sky, threatening another dump of freezing white particles, and the castle grounds were just becoming alive with men going about their duties.
In the great hall, however, there was a potentially explosive situation happening as Jasper, demanding his daughter’s presence, had been denied by Gates. Denied. Jasper was having great difficulty comprehending his knight’s refusal to produce his own flesh and blood.
“My lord,” Gates said patiently. “May I speak candidly?”
“You had better.”
Gates, who had hardly slept all night, lifted a displeased eyebrow.
“You must understand something about your daughter,” he said.
“She has lived most of her life in a convent where there were no men about. Men make her extremely uncomfortable. I told you last night that she had been molested the moment she reached Hyssington and for that reason alone, she is terrified to come out of her chamber. She has been living a spartan, quiet life at St. Milburga’s.
It is the only life she has ever known, one imposed upon her by you no less.
You cannot suddenly demand the woman place herself in the midst of parties and feasting and the scrutiny of men because she does not know any of this.
It would upset her greatly. You must allow her time to become accustomed it. ”
Jasper was listening seriously, understanding what the man was saying but unwilling to agree. “She is going to have to become used to her surroundings eventually,” he said. “There is no better time than the present to start. Bring her to me, Gates.”
Gates was growing increasingly frustrated with Jasper’s lack of compassion.
Under normal circumstances he would not have cared in the least, but after a sleepless night, he was coming to realize that he cared a great deal whether or not he wanted to.
God, I’m such a fool, he thought. More than that, his feelings towards Kathalin were about to get him into trouble with her father.
“Shall I ask Lady de Lara what she thinks of bringing her daughter into a hall full of leering men?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. “Let us see what she has to say about it. If she agrees, then I will do it.”
Jasper’s mouth flew open in outrage. “You would not dare do such a thing!”
Gates’ reply was to turn on his heel and head for the hall door, leaving Jasper to bellow after him. “De Wolfe!” he yelled. “Do not leave this hall, do you hear? Come back here, I demand it!”
Gates made it to the entry before stopping, pausing long enough to turn around and see that Jasper was on his feet, moving towards him. The old man pointed at him.
“Since when are you so concerned about a woman?” he demanded.
“Women mean nothing to you. Do you know why I did not greet you and my daughter in the bailey when you arrived last night? It was because a woman claiming she had borne your bastard son had come to the kitchen gate demanding money. It is true! I went to see her because she was creating quite a fuss and the sentries summoned me. I saw the child, Gates. He looks just like you. She calls him Wolfie, after you. I paid her a few silver coins and told her to go away.”
Shocked, Gates considered what he had just been told carefully before replying. There wasn’t much use in denying the possibility because he knew it would have been a lie for him to even attempt it. Therefore, he simply accepted it.
“Did she give her name?” he asked.
Jasper nodded but, in the same motion, his head began to wag back and forth in a reproachful gesture. “Helene of Linley,” he said. “God’s Bones, Gates, you bedded Lord Linley’s daughter? Have you no sense?”
Gates remained cool. “Linley is a drunken old fool with less than fifty men sworn to him,” he said quietly.
“He lives in a dilapidated manor home, the last son of a once-great baronetcy, and drinks himself to death every day. I met Helene on an errand for you, in fact, and fed the woman because she was starving. She was in town trying to sell the last of her family’s valuables.
Did you know that about Linley? He uses all of his money for drink while his family starves. ”
Jasper did know that, in fact. His angry stance was suddenly not so angry.
He waved Gates off, as if the background of the House of Linley made no difference.
“Be that as it may, it does not give you the right to bed his daughter,” he pointed out.
“Now you have given them one more mouth to feed but more than that, the woman will never know a decent marriage to lift her family out of poverty because you bedded her. That is the third bastard that I know of from you and God only knows how many more there are out there. What on earth am I going to do with you, Gates?”
Gates looked at the man, seeing how flustered he was, and did what he usually did in these situations – he charmed himself out of it.
He and de Lara rarely had cross words but when they did, Gates knew that honey worked much better with Jasper than vinegar.
That, and stories of war. Either one had been known to work. He forced a smile.
“I know that I am a terrible lad,” he said, trying to lighten Jasper’s mood.
“I refuse to let you see your own daughter and then I produce armies of bastard children all over your earldom. At the very least, you should beat me into a bloody pulp but then there would be no one to lead your armies to victory. I am your greatest pride and your greatest embarrassment. Whatever are you going to do with me?”
Jasper, who had been righteously upset, was struggling not to smile as Gates came over to him and clapped him on the shoulder, grinning devilishly. It was difficult to be cross with such a smile. He shook his head in disgust.
“You are a wicked bastard,” he said, although by the tone of his voice it was obvious that he wasn’t truly angry. “Between you and Alexander, it is as if you are led by your manhoods and not your common sense.”
“I know. But it is much more fun that way.”
Jasper snorted, easing out of his anger. “Naughty!”
Gates laughed softly. “Naughty and thrilling,” he said. “I never know when an irate father is going to try and challenge me, and that makes life very exciting.”
Jasper couldn’t help but laugh at Gates, a man he truly adored. “You really are dastardly,” he said. “Will you ever cease this behavior, Gates? Will you become a responsible man someday and marry a woman?”
Gates immediately thought of Kathalin, an idea that hit him so hard he actually had to suck in his breath. Suddenly, the situation wasn’t so funny anymore. He felt anxiety and confusion. The smile faded from his face.
“I doubt any decent family will want to have their daughter married to me,” he said, half because it was the truth and half because he wanted to see Jasper’s reaction. “I will have to find a bride from a country far away where they have not heard of me.”
As expected, Jasper agreed. “That is true, lad,” he said.
“I am not sure we could find you a bride from a decent family in all of England. No woman wants to marry a man who has bastards running around. Most shameful. But, on the other hand, you are a de Wolfe and you bring the de Wolfe name with you. You are a knight beyond compare. Mayhap a good family will take that into consideration.”
Gates almost asked the obvious; it was on the tip of his tongue, begging to be spoken: would you?
But he couldn’t bring himself to say it, to give a clue as to what he had been thinking and feeling for Kathalin.
Was it marriage, then? Did he want to marry the woman?
Gates wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he couldn’t stand the thought of her with someone else. The very idea ate at him like a cancer.
“Mayhap,” he was all he could manage to say. “But I do not have to worry over it today. Meanwhile, may I make a suggestion regarding your daughter?”
In a better mood now, Jasper shrugged. “Go ahead,” he said with resignation. “You will, anyway.”
Gates smirked, a half-grin on his face. “Allow me to suggest going to her chamber and speaking with her in private,” he said.
“She is a different young lady than you have imagined. Being raised in St. Milburga’s has seen to that.
But let me say that she has the de Lara strength.
When we rode into St. Milburga’s, it was overrun with raiders.
I happened into the kitchen, where your daughter was, and she nearly beat me to death with an iron pot before she knew who I was.
Strength and bravery like that is indeed a de Lara trait.
So give her time to become accustomed to her new surroundings before you parade her around in front of men.
She will do you proud but it would be better if you allowed her to do it on her own terms.”
By the time he was finished, Jasper was listening seriously. “She beat you with a pot, you say?”
“She did, indeed. Me and another Welsh fool.”
Jasper chuckled. “Indeed,” he said, respect in his tone. He eyed Gates a moment before speaking. “Very well,” he said. “I will go to her chamber this morning and become acquainted with her. I would also like to take her to meet her mother.”
“I am sure she would be agreeable to that.”
Jasper nodded. “Excellent,” he said. “Will you come with me to see her, then? She knows you well by now and I am sure she would be comfortable with you in the room.”
As Gates nodded, Alexander entered the hall. Dressed in a heavy fur cloak against the cold, his face was pinched red from the chill outside. When he saw Gates and Jasper standing there, he beat at his arms as if to drive warmth back into them.
“God’s Bloody Feet!” he exclaimed. “I have never felt such cold!”