Chapter Thirteen
I should not have opened the door without demanding to know who was there.
Adam deliberately closed his eyes, momentarily making himself even more vulnerable to attack. When he opened them again, he was better able to see through the dark night into the cobbled courtyard.
Which was apparently empty.
He narrowed his eyes, looking right and then left before walking out onto the upper step. The air smelled fresh and clean, with the same brisk wind billowing about his tunic.
“Who is there?” he demanded in his harshest voice, unable to dispel a notion that their easy days of peace were over.
Have I grown so besotted with Esme that I have inadvertently put her in danger?
A sliding sound made the hackles rise on the back of his neck. Then came a hiccup. Adam spun around just as a hand landed on his leg.
“Adam, my good man. Help me up.”
His words were slurred, but it was recognizably Jonah. Adam’s pounding heart began to still.
“Milord.”
Esme’s brother was slumped against the wall of the house, his long legs inelegantly splayed amidst the autumnal remnants of the flower beds.
“I took a fall.” Jonah sounded surprised, but not really put out.
The man is drunk, Adam realized.
He extended both hands and grasped him under his arms, pulling him upwards and allowing him time to recover his balance. Jonah wobbled a little, then clapped him on the back.
“I’m most grateful, sir.”
“Let us go inside,” Adam suggested, leaving one casual arm around the younger man’s shoulders to keep him steady.
“Excellent. That is precisely where I was headed.” Jonah hiccupped once more, then swung his free arm toward the open door. “Onward.”
They made halting progress, with Jonah staggering a little, but seconds later, Adam was instructing Jennifer to refasten the front door whilst leading Lord Jonah to a chair by the fire.
The chair he had not long since vacated.
Regret burned in his veins as he beheld Esme’s lovely face. The moment he had longed for had ended scarce before it began.
Esme folded her arms across her chest and shook her head, a dozen emotions chasing across her blue eyes.
“I am glad you have returned to us, Jonah,” she said at last.
Although his finely stitched tunic was crumpled and stained, Jonah did not at all cut a sorry figure in the tapestried chair. A smile played across his face as he spied the pitcher of wine.
“We need another goblet,” he declared. “If you please, Jennifer.”
“Have you not imbibed enough?” Esme asked with sisterly sharpness, crossing the floor to sit beside him. “Jonah, you are more into your cups that I have seen for many a year.”
“Ah.” He held up a restraining hand, smiling more widely now. “That is for good reason, sister. I shall tell all. Once we all have a drink.” He gestured wildly to Adam. “Come and join us.”
Adam looked from brother to sister, reassured when Esme caught his gaze and nodded firmly. “Come and join us,” she echoed.
Adam carried over a third chair as Jennifer brought in the wine. When he reached them, Esme leaned over and whispered in his ear.
“Do not think to leave me with him.”
Her eyes rolled and he felt an answering smile stretching over his face. He longed to know if Esme regretted the interruption to their embrace, as he did. Or if she regretted the embrace and was glad of the interruption.
But she wants me to stay.
That had to be enough, for now.
He had positioned his chair too close to the fire for comfort. He perched as far to one side as possible and rolled up the sleeves of his tunic.
A sensible man would decline more of the rich wine that had made his head spin.
But on this night, Adam’s sensibilities were being sorely tested. He accepted a full goblet and drank deeply.
Jonah brandished his goblet, spilling a little onto his breeches. “Cheers, friends.”
“I am your sister,” Esme pointed out.
“We are all friends,” Jonah declared grandiosely. “And we have much to celebrate.”
But Esme was still displeased. “Where have you been, Jonah? Pray, do not tell me you rode back here in this condition?”
Jonah looked perplexed by the question; his blue eyes roving over the fireplace as if he might find the answer in the finely wrought stonework.
“I have been in the alehouse.” He smacked his thigh, pleased with deductions.
“All day?” Esme’s voice was dry.
Jonah’s eyes became glazed. “For much of it, I would wager.”
His sister tutted. “How did you return?”
“By carriage.” Jonah snapped his fingers. “The good physician said I should leave my horse in his yard till the morrow.”
“Thank all that’s holy for the physician,” Esme muttered toward Adam.
“I can still hear you, sister. The ale has not rendered me deaf.” Jonah leaned forward, his eyes glittering. “Do you not want to hear my news?”
All Adam wanted was to be alone with Esme once again, but he could hardly demand this.
“Go on then, brother, furnish us with your news.” Esme sounded weary as she sipped at her wine.
Jonah’s blue eyes fixed on Adam. “Perchance this story affects you more than us,” he ruminated.
Despite all that had passed, Adam was intrigued. “How so?”
Jonah’s goblet completed another sweeping arc, but miraculously the liquid remained inside. “Roger Mortimer has been arrested.”
His words fell into silence. Adam could not, at first, make sense of them.
Esme frowned. “Who could arrest a man with so much power?”
Jonah crossed his legs, looking very pleased with himself. “Only the King himself.”
Adam breathed slowly, beginning to realize the import. But quick-thinking Esme got there before him.
“So, the young King is once again leading a united England.” She put down her goblet and clasped her hands together. “Roger Mortimer, the usurper, is captured. This is good news indeed.”
“As I said.” Jonah was languid. “’Tis better news still for the prospects of lasting peace with Scotland.”
“Aye.” Adam readily agreed. It seemed as though half his body had a fever; he was burning up with heat from the roaring fire. He raked a hand through his hair, forcing himself to concentrate. “There was no telling where Mortimer’s greed would lead him.”
“He dined with us once at Wolvesley.” Esme tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair. “Father said afterwards that he was not a man he was willing to trust.”
“Amen to that.” Jonah took another large mouthful of wine. “Better a young King than an imposter.”
Adam nodded. Rory Baine had once been in correspondence with Queen Isabella’s lover. Adam had worried no good would come of it. He was glad naught had come of it at all, as far as he could see.
“The King is not so very young these days.” Esme shook back her hair, unaware of the beauty of youth. “How did it happen?”
“’Tis a marvelous tale.” Jonah beamed at them both. “The King crept into Nottingham Castle by secret passage and arrested Roger Mortimer in front of the Queen herself.” He pressed his lips together, briefly regretful. “How I wish I had been there.”
Esme leaned forward, excitedly. “Do you think Tristan was there?”
A shadow passed over Jonah’s face. “Our brother is always at the forefront of any excitement. Most likely he was the one to discover the secret passage.” He drained his goblet and clumsily placed it down on the table.
Esme touched his arm in a rare show of sibling compassion. “Tristan is tucked up at home with Mirrie, awaiting the birth of their first child. Fear not, Jonah. On consideration, I do not believe he was at the forefront of this particular excitement.”
Jonah was not to be dissuaded. “Then most likely he was the one to build the passage.”
Esme’s response was a peal of laughter. Adam wondered if they were at all aware of their good fortune in hailing from a large, loving family.
He rubbed at his temples and felt the pressing of his years upon him.
“Are you not pleased Adam?” Jonah rose to his feet, unsteadily, and clapped him on the shoulder. “I should think that Callum will be pleased.”
“Aye.” He nodded firmly and summoned a smile. “I am pleased with any step that takes us closer to a lasting peace.”
“Peace and prosperity for all.” Jonah swayed, grasping the back of the chair for support. “England and Scotland united.” He yawned widely. “I am going to sleep in the solar.”
Without further ado, he began stumbling in that direction. Adam hurriedly went after him.
“Allow me to help you.”
Jonah surprised him by grasping his forearm; almost as if they were kin. “Adam Hawker. You are a good man, I think.”
“I try.” Adam’s smile became genuine.
“Be good to my sister.” Jonah nodded vaguely in Esme’s direction. “We will talk more in the morn. A great weariness has come upon me.”
Adam waited until Jonah had disappeared into the solar before turning back to Esme. He wanted to take her in his arms and pick up where they had left off, but an awkwardness clung to him. Perchance she regretted her earlier actions.
One look at her radiant smile told him otherwise.
He stood in the vast hall and grinned back at her, feeling like a green youth.
Esme held out her hand and simply said his name. An invitation. He went to her willingly, eschewing the chair to kneel at her feet. The wooden floor was hard, but Adam scarcely noticed. He took her fingers and pressed them to his lips.
“I should walk away from you,” he breathed.
She shuffled in her chair until the softness of her breasts pressed against his chest. “Why would you do such a thing?”
“For all the reasons we talked through earlier.” He ran his hands through her waterfall of hair, loving the way it slipped through his fingers. He took a breath. “Because we have both drank our fill of wine, and I do not want you to have any regrets come the morn.”
Esme tightened her hold on his shoulders. “The only regret I will have is if you do not kiss me again.”