Chapter Five
“I have not seen my child in fifteen years,” Carr said, perturbed. “I do not know what to do with her. Should I send her to a convent? Is she too old to send to foster in another household?”
It was nearing sunset on the day Andromeda de Courcy had been reunited with her father, who was more than surprised to see her.
At first, he didn’t recognize her. She was a filthy little urchin, and the last time he saw her had been when she was a child.
He still wasn’t sure he recognized her, or at least that was what he told others, but the truth was that he did recognize her almost immediately. She looked like his wife.
Another woman he hadn’t seen in fifteen years.
Rather than being pleased to see his only child, he was irritated that she had come.
Quite irritated. Tristan had seen that from the start, so instead of letting the pair make a scene for all to witness, he had sent the lady off with a couple of female servants for a bath and food while Carr became used to the idea that his daughter had come to him.
While the lady was bathing and eating, Tristan learned a great deal about Carr that he’d never known before.
The man didn’t like his womenfolk around him.
Simply put, Carr was a selfish man. He’d come to England to serve the Marshal, and he’d been very happy with the freedom.
No family, no wife, nothing to bind him.
He was free to pursue any affair of his choosing, which in Carr’s case was with both married and unmarried women.
He wasn’t particular so long as she had a pretty face and was willing.
Tristan had never involved himself in Carr’s affairs because it wasn’t any of his business.
Carr acted like a man with no attachments, and that was the way he liked it.
But the appearance of Carr’s daughter had the selfish side of the man showing up, as if Andromeda had appeared simply to annoy him.
Tristan watched Carr rage in the solar of Wrexham, a vast chamber with a vaulted ceiling and the luxuries left behind by de Gresford.
There were hides on the floor and on the walls alongside deer antlers because de Gresford had been quite a huntsman.
There were deer antlers in the solar, the entry, and the great hall.
They were everywhere. Tristan found himself looking at those antlers, pondering the surprising depths of Carr’s selfishness, as the man ranted and raved around him.
Tristan finally put a stop to it.
“It’s not as if she planned this,” he said. “I do not know the details, but it sounds as if she was in great danger and de Courcy sent her here for her own safety. The least you could do is ask her.”
“I will ask her,” Carr said angrily. “And then I will send her on her way.”
“Send her where?”
“Back where she came from!”
Tristan shook his head at the man’s stubborn nature, casting a long glance at Addax, who was leaning against the enormous table in the chamber that contained maps and other things. Addax, too, had had enough of Carr’s selfish nature.
“She told de Wolfe that men were coming to kill her,” Addax pointed out. “You would send her back to her death?”
Carr came to a halt, looking at Addax. “Nay,” he said, frustrated that he couldn’t do it. “I… I do not know what I shall do if I cannot send her back. Mayhap I will send her to a convent.”
“Why a convent?”
“Because I do not want her here!”
Tristan scratched his ear. “She’s here and she is going to stay,” he said, becoming increasingly exasperated at Carr’s attitude.
“At least for a while. The woman isn’t even my daughter, and even I can see that she has suffered greatly since her flight from Ireland.
It would be the kind thing to allow her to remain until she has recovered herself. ”
Carr sighed sharply. “She was supposed to remain in Ireland,” he said.
“You know the woman has royal blood. I have told you that before. She is the only descendant from the last King of Dublin, and there are many men who would see her returned to the throne. What I never told you is that King John knew of her birth, and he was the one who arranged, through William Marshal, to have her raised by Liam de Courcy. He didn’t want an Irish princess raised by the Irish, so it was out of my hands when she was born. ”
“And you never fought for her?”
“Why?” Carr said. “John wanted to marry her to the right man. Her destiny through the king would be greater than anything I could do for her.”
Tristan could see the bigger picture. The fact that King John had sent the child to live with an English family, so she could learn English ways, made perfect sense.
Then he would make an advantageous marriage for her.
It was his way of controlling Ireland and the destiny of those bound to the throne.
Carr had never mentioned John until this moment, so the situation was making more sense.
John had wanted to use her, once, but with his death, the ambition had clearly died.
But that didn’t stop the Irish from wanting her back.
Clearly, they did.
“John is no longer here to determine her destiny,” Tristan finally said. “But she is here now because something has occurred. Don’t you think you should talk to her before blaming her for something that may have been beyond her control?”
Carr wasn’t so apt to agree. “De Courcy did this,” he said. “He sent her on to me and shirked his duty.”
“Shirked his duty for what?” Tristan nearly demanded. “He didn’t shirk anything—he did his duty and sent her to safety. If we’re being honest about this, you’re the one shirking your duty, Carr.”
Carr’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you are her father,” Tristan said.
“She’s your duty, yet you are acting as if you want nothing to do with her.
That is not a pleasant attribute in a man I would trust my life with.
If you refuse to help your very own daughter, what will you do with men you are not related to who might be dependent on you in the heat of battle? ”
Carr almost snapped back at him but thought better of it.
It never did any good to snap at Tristan, because if the man was riled, the results would not be pleasant.
Truthfully, Carr didn’t know why he was angry with Andromeda’s appearance, only that he was.
He’d gotten along fine for fifteen years without his wife or daughter around, and he didn’t want to change that arrangement.
Though there was more to his resistance, deep down, that was something he didn’t want to entertain.
It was something he’d put to the back of his mind many years ago, and that was where it was going to stay.
Simply put, he was a man set in his ways, and that didn’t include Andromeda.
“It’s only that I am surprised to see her,” he said, trying to calm himself because he realized that he was starting to look like an unreliable hypocrite. “The intention was for her to remain in Ireland. She was never to come to England.”
“Yet here she is,” Tristan said. “I cannot believe Addax and I are the only ones accepting of your daughter’s arrival.
Christ, Carr, you could show a little more compassion.
Your daughter seemed deeply troubled by her journey here, and now she has to face a father that wants nothing to do with her. Don’t you see how cruel that is?”
Carr did. Not that it changed anything, but he knew he was being cruel. Unwilling to answer for his behavior, he simply shook his head and headed for the solar door.
“I have duties to attend to,” he muttered. “I will talk to her later, when I’ve had the opportunity to recover my composure.”
Tristan didn’t stop him. He let the man go, looking at Addax as Carr’s footfalls faded away. “Now what?” he said. “It never occurred to me that Carr did not wish to see his own daughter.”
Addax lifted his big shoulders. “He is a stubborn man,” he said. “He leads the life he wishes to lead, without the hindrance of a wife and child, and now that child is on his doorstep and he does not want her to interfere with his life and how he leads it.”
“She’s a grown woman,” Tristan said. “She is not interfering.”
“She is if he must now find a husband for her,” Addax said. “Or worse, provide a dowry for her. And what about that convent he was talking about? He would need to make arrangements for it. And what’s this about de Courcy shirking his duties? The woman is not de Courcy’s daughter.”
Tristan shook his head. “She is not, but she has fostered with the family for many years,” he said.
“You know as well as I do how that makes one part of a family even if they are not related by blood. Truthfully, I did not even know why she lives with de Courcy until Carr just told us. But the truth is that I do not know anything more about that situation, and I do not care because it does not involve me—but now the daughter is here, at my garrison, and that does involve me. Unless Carr decides to take charge of her, I cannot simply let her sit in a chamber and rot.”
“What will you do?”
“What can I do? I will have to assign her duties, I suppose.”
Addax looked at him strangely. “You intend to make her work?”
“Not work,” Tristan said. “But she is a woman of noble birth. That means she has fostered in a fine home and has been trained in the aspects of running a household.”
“Ah,” Addax said, coming to understand. “Managing servants, managing stores and inventory, things of that nature.”
“Exactly,” Tristan said. “I have no chatelaine here, and it shows. Mayhap for her duration at Wrexham, she will fill the role. At least it will keep her occupied and make her less of a burden to me or to Carr, who seems to think that’s the only reason she has come.”
Addax rolled his eyes. “Incredibly selfish of him.”