Chapter Twelve #4
He was gone, leaving three puzzled but delighted men and one besotted lady and all of them believing that the Gorgon, indeed, could conjure his own private magic.
*
“You have interrupted my sleep this night to rehash old rumors and hearsay that I am already well aware of?” he questioned the red-headed knight with a good deal of annoyance, his head aching and his vision swimming.
“I allowed you into my chamber based on your declaration of an emergency regarding my daughter. If you consider a betrothal to Bose de Moray an emergency, then vacate my chamber at once and stop wasting my time.”
Breck and Margot stood respectfully in Edward’s lavish bower.
Breck struggled not to rant or shout in the face of the drunken baron, but if he was to accomplish his goal this night, then it was essential that he remain calm.
God’s Blood, his scheme was coming together with such grace and blessing that he could scarcely believe he had reached his final obstacle, ultimately able to confront Edward du Bonne and plead for his daughter’s hand.
And with the support of Lady de Ville, he had little doubt that morn would see him a pledged man.
But the necessity to remain calm was imperative if he wanted to achieve his intent.
“You do not seem to realize the seriousness of the situation, my lord,” he said steadily.
“Bose de Moray is a murderer. Somehow, he has managed to convince your daughter and your sons of his innocence, but I can prove without a doubt that he did indeed kill his wife. Do you desire your daughter to become another victim of his murderous character?”
Edward snorted, spraying spittle from his thick lips. “She shall not become a victim. Stephan and Ian are quite convinced of de Moray’s innocence and I have complete faith in my sons’ judgment. Now, if you will excuse me….”
“Bose is a silver-tongued devil, my lord, quite capable of persuading the most intelligent of men.” Margot entered the conversation and when Edward looked at her, she bowed her head respectfully.
“I am the Lady Margot de Ville. My daughter was married to Bose de Moray, and four years ago almost to the day he took her life in a violent burst of blood and agony. If you do not want your daughter to meet with the same brutal end, then I suggest you listen to Sir Breck.”
For the first time since the arrival of his unwelcome visitors, Edward’s disinterest in the dialogue faltered. Scratching the flea bites on his neck, he focused on the frail-appearing lady with a mounting sense of morbid curiosity.
“I was told she died in childbirth,” his tone was considerably less strained.
Margot smiled thinly. “A convenient title for a mortal mistake. I saw my daughter’s body, my lord, and you will believe me when I say mere childbirth could not have wrought the scope of damage I witnessed.
She was torn asunder, destroyed by a man who has little regard for the value of life.
Surely you do not wish for your daughter to succumb to the same torment. ”
Edward maintained as steady a focus as he was able through his alcohol-induced state, absorbing the woman’s words with increasing distress.
Always particularly pliable to the suggestions and motives of others, it was natural to find himself willing to listen to her sincere reasoning.
In fact, he had always found it most comforting to have others form his opinions and decisions for him. This night was no exception.
The dirty nails scratching his neck moved to his chin. “Of course I do not want my daughter to meet with her death. But she will be another man’s wife to do with as he pleases and if the death of his wife is his preference, then so be it.”
Breck’s brow furrowed slightly; even he found himself curious at the callous reference to something as fragile as a woman’s life.
For a man who was supposed to have sired a particularly beautiful, if not flawed, woman, the baron certainly lacked the usual fatherly compassion.
For the first time during the conversation, Breck found himself wondering if the argument presented would prove to be persuasive enough to force the man to recant his verbal betrothal with de Moray.
Margot, however, was undeterred by Edward’s attitude.
Being a wise, instinctive woman, she could sense a great deal of indifference from the baron with regard to his daughter, a woman with a disturbing flaw and little marital value.
But she could also sense a feeble-willed, foolish man who seemed to be easily swayed.
And it was that portion of the man, the frail-minded, spineless idiot that she intended to target.
There was a small chair opposite the baron’s position. Moving forward, Margot deposited herself neatly upon the embroidered silk. Hands folded primly, she pondered her next move.
“Since you obviously care not for your daughter’s well-being at the hands of a murderous fiend, then allow me to present a different aspect to the situation,” taking a deep, delicate breath, she maintained steady, convincing eye-contact.
“Suppose you allow your daughter to marry Sir Bose and she inevitably meets her end as I say she will. Have you considered how your friends and allies will look upon you, having knowingly allowed your daughter to enter into a less than desirable situation? They will not think kindly of your carelessness, my lord.”
Edward, not surprisingly, was listening to her. “They… they will believe me negligent? Foolish, even?”
Seeing the man’s interest peaked, Margot realized she had hit upon a strong idea and she endeavored to continue before the baron had a chance to question her reasoning.
“Indeed, my lord. They will whisper behind your back, speaking harshly of the senseless father who had been too blind and too witless to see beyond de Moray’s facade when all who have ever been acquainted with the man know of his sinister reputation.
Without a doubt, you’ll be made the laughing stock of Dorset. ”
Margot was pleased to note the deep furrowing of Edward’s bushy brow, the faint flush mottling his ears. Shifting in his chair with mounting discomfort, he opened his robe somewhat because he was beginning to sweat.
“I…I had never considered such an aspect,” he said finally, his tone weak and sincere.
“My only thoughts, of course, are to marry my daughter to a wealthy and powerful knight. Certainly, I never thought I’d be rid of the girl considering her flawed speech.
Mayhap… mayhap the excitement of her first true suitor has shadowed my judgment. ”
Margot nodded sympathetically, her expression as cold as ice. “Of course, my lord. Your reaction was completely understandable. And your sons, too.”
“My sons?”
She nodded firmly. “Certainly they believe as you do. Never imagining that their defective sister would find a husband, they agreed upon the first man who showed a measure of interest. And they eagerly believed his lies because of their desire to see their sister wed.”
After a lengthy, contemplative pause, Edward slowly shook his head. “I cannot see that their desire to see Summer wed would override their judgment. Especially Stephan’s. The man is exceedingly intelligent and introspective.”
Margot’s gaze was even as she digested his words, coming to suspect that the baron relied heavily upon his eldest son’s discretion.
From the clues delivered throughout the conversation and from the obvious weak-minded stance of the nobleman slouched before her, it was logical to conclude that the baron did not make his own decisions.
Someone made them for him. At this moment, that someone would be Margot.
“I am sure he is, my lord, but even a wise man can be fooled by a clever opportunist,” she replied softly. “Bose is such a man. I assume that your daughter will come with a substantial dowry?”
Edward stared at her blankly a moment, as if he had never considered the very idea. After a pause, he nodded unsteadily. “I… I will provide her with a good dowry, of course.”
“And Bose is well aware of the fact. By selecting the imperfect daughter of a wealthy baron, he is assured of your eager response to his marital petition, thereby guaranteeing him a substantial inheritance. After your daughter falls victim to an unfortunate ‘accident’, he will simply move on to the next hapless woman and collect her dowry, too.”
Edward’s features relaxed with the naked truth of understanding, seeing the lady’s logic quite clearly. “So he seeks to obtain my wealth!”
“Indeed. And the entire province will look to you as a fool for providing it so freely.”
Beads of sweat peppered Edward’s brow, the true focus of Bose de Moray’s scheme coming to bear.
Of course! Great Gods, why hadn’t he seen it earlier?
For certain, there was no other reason why a man of Bose de Moray’s standing and power would pursue a flawed woman other than the fact she was directly related to a good deal of wealth. Wealth de Moray desired.