Chapter Twenty-Three #2
In fact, as she made her way down the wooden steps into the bailey, she found that she was fairly worked up about it.
Brandt had stated that his daughters only looked upon him as a bankroll for their dowries.
Was that the reason they had come to Melesse?
Only for his money? She felt some anger at that.
There was a small party off to her right near the smithy shacks.
The horses were rather fine and there was a very fine carriage with two simple bench seats, white-washed and decorated with elaborate painted patterns.
Two young women, dressed in fashionable clothing, sat atop one of the bench seats.
Ellowyn, now with the entourage of Dylan and Annabeth as well as Brennan and Bridget, headed straight for the wagon.
“I am Lady de Russe, Duchess of Exeter,” she announced to the group on and around the wagon. “I understand you have come to see my husband.”
The women on the bench looked over at her and she could immediately see Brandt’s features reflected in their faces. They were quite lovely, dark-haired and dark-eyed, as they gazed at Ellowyn with surprise as well as suspicion.
“Lady… Lady de Russe?” one of the girls repeated.
Ellowyn focused on her. “How may I be of assistance?”
The girl looked at her and her obviously pregnant belly before turning to the girl next to her. They both seemed at a loss for words. Then they started to appear nervous.
“I am the Lady Rosalind de Russe,” the young woman finally said. She had darker hair than the woman seated next to her and finer features. “This is my sister, the Lady Margarethe. The Duke of Exeter is our father.”
Ellowyn smiled politely. “He has mentioned you,” she said. “Welcome to Chateau Melesse. May I ask what your business is?”
The young women seemed genuinely overwhelmed. It was an odd reaction, truly, and seemingly a bit extreme, but given the unfriendliness Brandt had described with his daughters, she shouldn’t have been surprised. As the women struggled to find their tongues, she took charge of the situation.
“The duke is a very busy man,” she said, clipped because she was frustrated with their seeming reluctance to tell her the nature of their business. “You will tell me what your business is with him.”
Still, neither woman seemed willing to answer. They kept looking at Ellowyn and then whispering between them.
“Ladies, I am addressing you. What is it that you want?”
Rosalind finally looked at her. “Our business is with our father,” she said with strained politeness. “Is he in residence?”
“You will tell me what your business is with him or I will have you escorted out.”
Margarethe, silent until this point, looked at her with fury. “You cannot have us escorted out,” she said. “We are his daughters, his flesh and blood.”
“And I am his wife.”
“Our mother is his wife!”
“Your mother is dead.”
“Nay, she is not!”
Rosalind slapped a hand over her sister’s mouth and the two of them struggled on the bench seat as Margarethe tried to yank her sister’s hand off her mouth.
Ellowyn, alarmed by the younger girl’s angry reply, rushed to the wagon and grabbed Margarethe by the arm as she fought with her sister.
She yanked so hard that Margarethe nearly came off the bench seat.
“What do you mean by that?” she demanded.
Margarethe was fearful and angry. She tried to peel Ellowyn’s fingers off of her wrist and finally took to smacking her hand. Meanwhile, Brennan and Dylan had rushed forward to break up the tussle, pulling Ellowyn away as gently as they could while trying to keep Brandt’s daughters calm.
“You will tell me what you mean by that!” Ellowyn would not be eased. “What do you mean your mother is not dead?”
“Ellowyn!”
The boom came from the direction of the keep.
Everyone turned to see Brandt heading towards them, his features tight.
He had been awakened by the cries from the sentries announcing visitors and by the time he dressed and exited the keep, he had been confronted by his wife in some kind of altercation with two women on a wagon.
Furious, he hadn’t realized who the women were until he came off of the steps leading from the keep and by that time, he was in a full blown rage.
He wasn’t sure how the altercation got started but anyone who touched his wife was sure to pay, even his daughters whom he had not seen in several years.
They weren’t hard to recognize. They looked just like their mother, and he was unmoved by their appearance. Perhaps a bit surprised, but unmoved.
“Take my wife inside,” he instructed Brennan as he came upon the group.
“I am not going inside,” Ellowyn told him, slapping at Brennan when the man tried to politely grasp her. She pointed at the women on the wagon. “Those young women say they are your daughters. Furthermore, that one said that her mother was not dead and I want to know what she meant.”
Brandt hadn’t heard any of the conversation. All he had seen was the struggle. As Ellowyn told him what had been said, the reasons behind the scuffle, his head snapped in the direction of his daughters.
They were sitting upon the wagon bench looking at him apprehensively.
They had grown quite a bit in the past several years, that was true, but they still looked just like their mother.
There was beauty there, but there was also coldness.
He honestly felt no reaction as he looked at them.
Just as they had been conditioned to hate him, he had been conditioned not to care.
It was safer for him that way. They were strangers to him and he wanted to keep it that way. He turned to Ellowyn.
“I am sure she only said it to upset you,” he said quietly. “Please return inside. I will be in shortly.”
Ellowyn geared up for an argument but she could see by the look in his eye that he would not have tolerated it. The appearance of his daughters had him edgy and she didn’t want to add to his burden. With a sigh, she forced herself to calm.
“Very well,” she said. “Please come inside as soon as you can.”
“I will.”
“I want to know why they are here.”
“So do I.”
With a lingering glare at the young women in the wagon, Ellowyn retreated back to the keep with Annabeth, Bridget, and Brennan. Dylan remained behind with Brandt, who was watching his wife retreat into the keep. When she was out of view, he returned his attention to the wagon.
“Now,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You will tell me why you are here immediately.”
They did.