Chapter Twenty-One #3
“What is that?”
“I am proud to be Edmund Herringthorpe’s son,” he said.
“But the truth is that Edmund was not a very good knight. Adequate, but not great. Now that I’ve had some time to think about the blood that flows through my veins, I would like to say that I am proud to bear that heritage.
De Wolfe heritage. If I could thank you for anything at all, it would be for giving me that part of you.
You gave me life and for that, I am grateful. ”
William smiled faintly. “You do the de Wolfe bloodlines proud, War,” he said.
“You are a fine tribute to your ancestors. Mayhap it is too soon to bring this up, but for your father, whom you loved very much, mayhap you should consider keeping his name. If you wish to take the de Wolfe name, I will not stop you, but Edmund sounds like a fine man. He raised a fine son.”
War looked at him again, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears. But there was a smile on his face. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “My father was a very fine man. But I am coming to see that you are, as well. I mean no disrespect to you that I shall keep my name as it is.”
“Of course not. You are a Herringthorpe.”
“I am a de Wolfe in Herringthorpe-sheep’s clothing.”
William chuckled. “That you are, lad,” he said. “And there has never been a finer de Wolfe. But to continue to honor your father and his name, I suspect that is something that should only be known between us.”
War nodded reluctantly. “That is true,” he said. “If my true bloodlines were known, men would call me a de Wolfe regardless of what I wished to be called.”
“More than that, it would put your mother in a bad light,” William said softly. “I would not want you to shame Jane that way. Keeping Edmund’s name is a tribute to her, also.”
War nodded. “Agreed,” he said. “I could not let men think that my mother was… unchaste by bearing a bastard.”
“We do not want to give the gossips any fuel,” William said. “And we do not want to damage the name of Lady Jane de Percy.”
War smiled in agreement, thinking on his mother and the secret she had kept, of her love for a warrior who would go on to be England’s greatest knight.
That brought something to mind.
“Your understanding and generosity does your reputation justice,” he said, his attention returning to Annaleigh again. “I am honored by it. But we have an interesting situation here not unlike the one between you and my mother.”
William’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Annaleigh,” War said simply. “Although I will make it clear that I’ve done nothing more than speak to the woman, I fear that my feelings for her are quite strong, as my mother’s were for you.
In this case, you are my mother’s father and I am you when you went to my grandfather to ask for my mother’s hand.
You have that power over my life and happiness, my lord.
I hope you will not tell me to go away and stay away. ”
William was prevented from answering when Jemma and the physic arrived in the chamber and War was practically yanked away from the bedside by Jemma, who was desperate to get to her niece.
In fact, War ended up stumbling and William had to steady him as Jemma and the physic descended on Annaleigh, followed shortly thereafter by Jordan.
With the three of them crowding around her bed, War and William were pushed to the doorway, watching from afar.
Watching anxiously in War’s case.
“They will take good care of her,” William assured War quietly. “But I will tell you that the two men you killed were Jemma’s nephews.”
War was resolute. “Though I am sorry for their demise, they left me with no choice,” he said. “Any man who would think of touching Annie will face my wrath. I will kill for her, as I have proven. I will also gladly die for her.”
William could hear the passion in his voice and he looked at him, studying the man’s features. He did indeed look like William’s father, Edward. Even more so at close range.
He allowed himself to feel some pride in the man, after all.
“If Annie is what you truly want, then you will have no argument from me,” he said softly.
“I will speak to her father, Ian, and when I tell him how you saved her life, I am certain you will have no argument from him, either. Given the way you two met, I believe you are destined to be together. I know my wife and I were. It seems that you are to follow in our footsteps in that way.”
War looked at William, the anxiety on his features changing into that of joy. Tempered joy, as if he wanted to become excited about it but truly couldn’t. Not until he knew Annaleigh was going to be well again. But that didn’t stop him from giving William a grateful nod of the head.
“Thank you, my lord,” he said sincerely. “Your blessing means a great deal. And if Annie and I could be so fortunate to have the years of happiness between us that you and your lady wife have had, then I will consider us most fortunate, indeed.”
Before William could reply, Annaleigh’s foot twitched.
Both William and War saw it, with War stepping forward to see if he could get a look at Annaleigh’s face.
He wanted to see if she was awake. William remained back by the door as Kieran came to stand in the doorway, looking with concern at all of the activity.
“How is she?” Kieran asked.
William shook his head. “I do not know,” he said. Then, he looked at Kieran. “What did you do with Argyle and Brendan?”
Kieran lifted his eyebrows. “We’ve collected their body parts and put them in canvas sacks,” he said. “War made quick work out of them.”
William grunted as he returned his attention back to the bed, where Annaleigh was now moving around a little more. “He is a de Wolfe,” he said softly. “I expected nothing less from the man when the woman he loves is threatened.”
There was something in his tone that made Kieran peer at him closely. “Have you two spoken again?”
“We have.”
“And?”
William wouldn’t look at him. “And he and Annie shall be married at some point, I’m certain,” he said. He looked at Kieran again, a smile on his lips. “We have made peace and I am glad. He’s a worthy man, Kieran. Worthy of my bloodlines. But the world will never know it.”
Kieran understood much in those few words. “You will not tell anyone?”
“Nay,” William said. “To honor Edmund Herringthorpe and to honor Jane de Percy, who most certainly would look like a trollop if the truth were revealed, no one will know. If you’ve told Jemma, you will make sure she doesn’t tell a soul.”
Kieran nodded. “I will,” he said. “You’ll not even tell your sons?”
William shook his head. “Why?” he said. “There is no reason to. War is a Herringthorpe and that’s all they ever need know. It is better that way.”
Kieran understood and he was surprised that two men with such great pride were able to see beyond the situation and how it would affect the legacy of others.
Truthfully, he wasn’t surprised that William saw it because he knew William as well as he knew himself.
He knew that in a situation that really didn’t matter in the long run, protecting a man’s – and woman’s – legacy was more important than feeding his pride in a newly discovered and important son.
And War… clearly, he had William’s sense of compassion and good judgment.
A Herringthorpe he would remain, as a tribute to the man who raised him.
As William and Kieran contemplated the secret de Wolfe cub, War was completely focused on Annaleigh as she came out of unconsciousness.
The physic, along with Jemma, had cleaned up the rather large gash on her head and just as she was coming around, the physic began to stitch it up.
Annaleigh winced with pain, disoriented when she opened her eyes.
She saw Jordan and Jemma and the physic, her eyes wide with confusion.
The physic threw in another stitch and she gasped, her hand flying to her head, but War was next to the physic and managed to grab it before she could touch her wound.
“Annie, you’ve been injured and the physic is tending your wound,” he said softly and steadily as he held her hand. “Just a stitch or two more and he shall be finished. You’ve been very brave, angel.”
Jordan and Jemma looked at him in surprise as he called her a term of endearment, but he did not look at them. He was completely focused on Annaleigh, who fixed on him with her groggy eyes.
“Injured?” she repeated. “What… where am I? What happened?”
“You are in your bedchamber,” War said. “Look around but do not move your head. Do you recognize it?”