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This is a work of fiction and any names, characters, events or organisations are either a product of my imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or people is purely coincidental.
© Alice Coldbreath, 2018
This book is dedicated to every reader who contacted me asking when Oswald’s story would be out, and to every reviewer who said they could not wait for his book. Until you pointed it out, I had not realized Oswald was hero material. Thank you. You were right. Alice.
PREFACE
Cadwallader Castle, the Summerlands, Karadok
“You're not returning to court so soon?” asked Mason with a heavy frown. “Our Father has not been buried for more than a sennight.”
“He was buried three weeks ago today,” Oswald corrected him.
Mason ignored him. “The King can surely spare you for another month.”
“He surely can,” agreed Oswald mildly. “But I have much work awaiting me on my return.”
“You’re not going straight to Vawdrey Keep, then?” asked Mason with a heavy frown. “Much work awaits you there too, now you’ve inherited it.”
Oswald gave a thin smile. “That can wait. After all, the old place hasn’t fallen down yet.”
Mason pursed his lips and fetched a pitcher of apple wine off a side-table. He poured two goblets. “Not for want of trying,” said Mason with a sigh, thinking of their late father's seat which lay some fifty miles north of Cadwallader. “If you would wait for a month or so, then I could accompany you...”
“Nay brother,” Oswald shook his head. “You have responsibilities here. Your son is not yet nine months old. Linnet needs you here with her.”
His brother did not argue he noticed as he passed him a cup, but continued to frown moodily into space. “The old place will be halfway to wrack and ruin,” he said finally. “It has been much neglected. I fear that is partly my fault.”
Oswald smiled at this and took a small sip of wine. “Why? Because Father practically moved in with you, after his grandchildren were born?”
Mason grunted. “Who'd have thought the old bastard would have it in him?” He gave a grudging smile. “He fairly doted on both the girls.”
“Archie's birth was his proudest moment,” agreed Oswald. The smile dropped off his face. “You made him very happy, Mason,” he said quietly. “I hope you know that.”
“He wanted you just as happy,” said Mason surprising him. “It's true,” said his brother gruffly. “He spoke to Linnet of it at the end.”
“Did he?” Oswald was startled. “He never mentioned it to me. Just told me to look after his dogs and Meldon,” he said dryly. Meldon was the Vawdrey family retainer and a curmudgeonly old sod that Oswald would rather pension off then keep in his employ.
Mason cleared his throat. “He didn't find that sort of talk easy.”
He wasn't the only one, thought Oswald wryly as he took in his brother's discomfiture. Mason had always been useless at any talk of feelings or emotions. Oswald rolled his eyes and took pity on him. “I'll speak to Linnet, shall I?”
“Aye,” agreed Mason looking relieved. “She was waiting for the right occasion to speak to you of it. We thought - hoped - you would stay on with us longer.”
Oswald smiled. Come what may, he was always assured a welcome at Cadwallader.
The door opened and he heard his sister-in-law's light tread as she rounded the door.“Here you are,” she said with a warm smile. She was carrying a chubby baby with a shock of red hair in her arms who was watching proceedings with great interest from his mother's arms. Trailing her skirts were two black haired little girls who immediately ran around her with a screech of 'Papa!' to leap into Mason's arms. He lifted them both effortlessly and kissed the tops of their heads. “Girls. Uncle Oswald is talking of leaving us,” said Mason immediately dropping him in it. The smile fell from Linnet’s face. She whirled around to face him. “So soon?” she cried. “But we hoped-”
“He has much work at court, Linnet,” said Mason swiftly. “You know how the King relies on him. Then, when he has time, he also has to set Vawdrey Keep to rights.”
Linnet bit her lip. “It will be a lot of work for you Oswald, but perhaps with someone at your side...” She hesitated and looked at her husband expectantly.
Mason picked up on the unspoken hint and jigged his twin daughters on his arm. “Shall we go and find Cuthbert, girls?” he asked naming his squire and their great favorite. Oswald felt a fleeting pity for poor Cuthbert who at fifteen was frequently irritated by the attentions of Lily and Margaret. “Cuffbert!” they both caroled in glee.
“What a good idea!” beamed Linnet whisking her skirts and scurrying over to kiss Mason on the cheek. He turned his head and caught her lips instead making her laugh. Oswald acknowledged that Mason had absolutely no problem showing affection or emotion toward his wife and children. His transformation in that respect, since his marriage four years ago, had been quite remarkable.
“Sure you don't want me to stay?” Mason asked his wife hesitantly, and threw a troubled glance Oswald's way. For some reason, it put Oswald immediately on his guard. Why should Mason ask that? He and his sister-in-law had always been on excellent terms. He turned in his chair to watch suspiciously as Linnet shook her head and held up baby Archie for his father to kiss. Mason pecked a chubby cheek dutifully. “Kiss the baby,” Linnet told both her daughters who hurriedly complied. Like everyone else at Cadwallader, they adored the new heir, their brother. “Be good for Papa,” she called after them as Mason left the room with his daughters in tow.
“Oh dear,” said Linnet distractedly as she sat in the chair opposite him. “Poor Cuthbert was hoping for some quiet time to practice his sword skills this afternoon. I fear the girls will soon put paid to that scheme!”
Oswald smiled as he watched her fussily arrange Archie on her lap. “No doubt,” he agreed. He had a suspicion it was not Cuthbert she wanted to discuss with him.
“We will be very sorry to see you go,” she sighed. “Mason always worries about you so.”
“Worries about me?” echoed Oswald in surprise.
“Yes indeed. For he says, if he does not, then no-one else will.”
Oswald considered this startling piece of information in silence a moment. “Mason need not worry,” he said firmly.
“Oh, we know you're terribly successful at court,” Linnet hurried to assure him. “And we're both awfully proud of your achievements in the King's council. Mason said you are Wymer's most trusted adviser these days, and certainly everyone agrees, the most competent.”
“Then why the concern?” asked Oswald with a directness that made Linnet's gaze skitter away.
“Tis only that we worry you might be ... rather lonely,” she said gently.
“Lonely?” repeated Oswald blankly. “Linnet I'm surrounded at any time by the King's court, some hundred or so people, not counting servants!”
She waved a hand dismissively. “All that counts for naught if you have no close friend or confidante among their number.”
“As to that...” He shrugged. “I've always kept my own counsel, and never been much for sharing confidences.”
Linnet's gaze was very steady and suddenly he found he was the one avoiding their keen regard. For all her gentleness, his sister-in-law could be uncomfortably perceptive at times. He gave a short laugh. “My personality is very different to Mason and my father's,” he pointed out.
“I know,” agreed Linnet softly. “But you are a good person Oswald, and Mason loves you very much...”
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and cleared his throat.
Linnet gave a
sudden laugh. “You are not as different from the other men in your family as you think, Oswald,” she said shaking her head. “Really, why are you getting so uncomfortable when I tell you how much your family cares for you?” She sighed and then tried again. “Mason says he never appreciated growing up, how much you always watched over him and cared about him. He thinks you are quite the most clever person he has ever met.” She hesitated a moment. “Your father too, came to see that he had never recognized your full worth. He was very proud of your career at court,” she said quietly. “He said he always knew you were book-clever, but he never realized how you would be able to turn that learning into a position of power and influence in the kingdom.”
It was news to Oswald that his bluff, blustering father had any pride in his quiet oldest son and heir. If he had, it was the first he'd ever heard of it. He opened his mouth and then closed it again. After all, what was the point in being churlish over the fact he and his father had never seen eye-to-eye? “I can't see where this conversation is going Linnet,” he admitted.
“That must be a novel experience for you, with all your intrigues and politicking at court.” his sister-in-law joked. Then her expression sobered. “You know your father asked for me at the end,” she said softly.
“He had grown very fond of you,” he answered automatically. Surprisingly, it was nothing less than the truth.
“Yes,” she agreed misty-eyed. “I was the daughter he'd never had.”
Oswald thought briefly, that if Baron Vawdrey had ever had a daughter he would have made her life a misery, but he kept this to himself. “He did mellow a lot in recent years,” he said instead, diplomatically.
“Oh yes. He was wonderful with the girls. They adored him.”
Astonishingly, this was also true. Despite the fact that Linnet had first presented him with two grand-daughters instead of the longed-for grandson, he had swiftly recovered from the disappointment and come to see the baby girls as blessings and the twin-apples of his eye. Archie's arrival six months ago had sealed Linnet's position as his favorite female in the whole world. It wasn't really surprising that he had wanted her to be the one to hold his hand at the very end.
“His last words,” she said gravely. “Were of you.”
Now, that did surprise him. He blinked. “Me?”
“Yes, you. He had regrets, and you were one of them.”
She looked so serious, he sat up in his seat. Hell. This did not sound good.
“He wanted very much for you to marry, to have what Mason has in his life.”
Oswald gave a startled laugh.
Linnet looked hurt.
“Forgive me Linnet, I know how well-suited you and Mason are together. I flatter myself that I was one of the first to appreciate it.” He paused, considering his words. “Even two brothers can be cut from different cloths. I do not think that sort of life would suit me. I am set in my bachelor ways now. My career…my position at court are what consume my days.”
“And what of when you retire from active service to the King?” asked Linnet tipping her head to one side. “Will you not be sorry to find yourself lacking help-meet, a companion in life?”
Oswald shrugged. “Meldon assures me there is a pack of dogs awaiting me at Vawdrey Keep,” he said with a grimace. “I will not neglect restoring the estate. Indeed, I have plans drawn up to raze the old manor house to the ground, and rebuild on a much grander scale.”
Linnet’s eyes widened. “I did not realize you intended as such.”
“You are the first I’ve told of it.”
She nodded. “You need a grander residence now you are an Earl,” she said slowly.
He smiled wryly at that. “I doubt Father would have thought so.”
“You might be surprised,” she answered with a soft smile. “He would have been pleased to see you making your own stamp on the place.”
“Perhaps.”
“He would have thought you needed your own countess though,” she sighed. “At one time I did think my friend Enid Jauncey might suit you very well.”
Oswald smiled. “Do you imagine you were discreet in that thought, Linnet?” he asked making her laugh.
“I am not subtle, I know. Mason says he can see my every thought forming on my face.”
“I can well believe it,” he commented. “You would make a terrible spy.”
The smile dropped from Linnet’s face. She looked down at her sleeping baby. “Is it true you are the King’s spymaster now, Oswald?”
“Linnet,” he cautioned her. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
She paused, considering a moment, then shook her head. “Please stay safe,” she urged. “You have made your fortune now and earned your new title. Can you not look to retire from such dangerous service to the crown?”
“You must not worry about your bachelor brother-in-law,” he told her lightly. “I am a very dull fellow and do all of my best work from behind a desk.”
Linnet frowned faintly. “If you say so, brother.”
“How is Enid?” he asked, changing the subject. “Still a merry widow?”
“She is currently being courted by two suitors,” admitted Linnet. “But neither of them is as distinguished as you. Or an Earl.”
“We would not suit each other at all you know,” said Oswald. “Enid would be a demanding sort of wife. She would not appreciate a husband who left her in the country while he pursued his career at court.”
“Is that what you would do with a wife?” asked Linnet.
“Undoubtedly.”
Linnet nodded, considering this. “Enid’s first marriage was a love-match so doubtless she would not understand a marriage of convenience. But there are many eligible ladies who would understand that sort of arrangement only too well.”
“Well, perhaps I’ll reconsider if Vawdrey Keep’s refurbishment becomes too much of a burden to me.
Linnet looked skeptical, but was distracted by Archie letting out a yell at being ignored for so long.
I
Thurrold Manor House, Sitchmarsh, The Summerlands
Fenella Thane dropped her embroidery into her lap and stared at her sister-in-law in disbelief.
“I’m sorry Orla, I think I misheard you,” she faltered.
Orla’s rather long nose quivered with excitement.
“You poor thing. It must be a lot to take in… Indeed, it’s a hard day when a wife finds herself usurped from her husband’s favor.” She gave a mournful sigh that didn’t quite conceal the gleam in her eye. “But indeed it’s true. Ambrose loves another. Even now he petitions the king at his winter court in Aphrany.”
“Divorce?” choked Fenella. “Ambrose means to divorce me?”
“Indeed ‘tis so.” Her sister-in-law held up her letter with a flourish. “Do you wish to see it in his own hand?” she asked. “I don’t wish to be indelicate… Of course my brother writes to tell me all. It was always so, ever since he was a babe he has always confided in me and me alone,” she gloated.
Fenella surprised her by holding out her hand for the missive. She had herself received a letter from Ambrose two weeks ago that had mentioned no word of it.
“Oh!” Orla stammered, clearly taken aback. “Very well…” she handed it over grudgingly and Fenella pored over Ambrose’s words. These last few months have revealed my true feelings to me… Colleen is the love of my life. In truth I never loved Fenella as a wife. She re-read the last sentence three times over. ‘I mean to divorce her on my return.’ The words swam on the page. He’d never loved her! In eight years of marriage! The words blurred before her eyes as she stared down at the piece of paper feeling numb. And yet it was unmistakably Ambrose’s perfectly round neat script. Her husband of several years spoke of casting her off like an old worn out glove.
“You’re crumpling my letter!” squawked Orla snatching it from her hand. “Are you mad?” she clucked her tongue. “You know I always keep all of Ambrose’s letters pressed in my ledger!”
; Fenella stared at her as Orla fussily pressed out the creases from the page. Orla was jittery with excitement. Her sister in law was gleeful at the prospect of her brother casting off his wife she realized feeling faintly sickened. Maybe, a voice whispered in her head, just maybe Orla thought she could rule the roost with a younger mistress at Thurrold. A nasty taste in her mouth told her this was probably true. Bors, her old black Labrador whined at her feet and she bent down to stroke him.
“It’s alright Bors,” she murmured reassuringly, although she almost choked on the words.
Orla sniffed. “I doubt it as far as he’s concerned. They won’t let you keep a dog at the convent.”
“Convent?”
“Of course, that is where you’ll be placed as a cast-off wife. You can hardly hold a property unwed.”
Fenella’s face flamed. She straightened up abruptly. “My father left me two properties…”
“And they became Ambrose’s when he married you,” cut in Orla smugly. “You have nothing now. Not a penny to your name.”
“But if he no longer wishes to be my husband, why should he keep what is mine? What was my father’s.” asked Fenella in a voice that shook.
Orla shrugged. “Tis the law of the land,” she sniffed. “What can us weak women do?”
Fenella balled her hands into fists so hard her nails pressed into her palms as she gazed down steadfastly at her dog, unable to face her traitorous sister-in-law. The same sister-in-law she’d sewn, eaten and gossiped beside for the last eight years. She felt betrayed. Betrayed. Bors panted up at her in slavish devotion, a slight wheeze emanating from his graying muzzle. She thought suddenly of her father who’d always maintained that the lowest act a man could commit was to cast off an old dog who’d been loyal in his service. She felt the burning conviction her father would feel the same contempt for the man who would cast off his own wife who had been loyal and true to him for almost a decade. A wife who had brought him wealth and prestige and had always honored him as a spouse. She was a Bernard of Sitchmarsh Hall. Her black bear was quartered even now on her husband’s standard. How dare he try to throw her in a convent and take some young bride to the bedroom she’d furnished! She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. “I’ll not go to the convent,” she said with resolve.