“Denedor,” he said in a low tone. “I have known you most of your life. You are the finest knight in my stable. I know that you were very attached to your wife, God rest her. I know that it nearly destroyed you when she died. What Keats is offering you is a chance to reclaim that happiness and have more children. Do you not understand that?”
Denedor nodded. “Of course I do, my lord, and if I were to remarry, Lady Kellington is such a woman that I would stop at nothing to woo. She is bright, intelligent and beautiful and in the short time I have spent with her, I would be lying if I said that she does not already have me somewhat smitten. But the lady is endeared to someone else and if I accept this betrothal and marry her, then there will always be some manner of shadow between us because she will forever see me as the man who took her from de Velt.”
“She will get over it.”
“Perhaps. But perhaps not.”
De Vesci scratched his chin, sipping on his wine. “Coleby is determined to marry his daughter off so that de Velt cannot have her. Once she is married, he will have little cause or claim to her.”
Denedor raised an eyebrow. “You speak of de Velt. He will murder her husband and marry her anyway.”
“Not if he does not know where she has gone,” de Vesci’s small brown eyes narrowed. “Marry the girl and take her to Ireland. I have family there and you would be provided a castle of your own and lands. De Velt would never find you there.”
“De Velt will tear this country apart looking for her,” Denedor said flatly. “If he feels for her as she says he does, then nothing will stop him.”
De Vesci sighed irritably. “So what do you want in order to agree to this? Money? A title?”
Denedor shook his head. “You misunderstand, my lord. You do not have to bribe me to marry the woman; I’ve already said that is not the problem. The problem is de Velt. If he is to be discouraged from the lady, then it will have to come from her lips. That is the only way I can imagine he will back off, if at all. If he truly wants her, nothing will stop him.”
De Vesci and Keats looked at each other, pondering the truth of that rationale. Keats finally shook his head. “She is stubborn,” he said. “She will never discourage de Velt no matter what we do to try and convince her. Unless…”
De Vesci sat forward in his chair. “Unless… what?”
Keats turned his golden brown gaze to Denedor. “Unless… unless Denedor can charm her to the point where she forgets about de Velt. From what I’ve heard, you charm with little attempt. Perhaps if you put some effort into charming my daughter, she will forget about de Velt altogether. It is worth a try.”
“Your daughter is well on her way to charming me senseless. I feel like a giddy squire every time I am around her.”
Keats opened his mouth to reply but de Vesci beat him to it. “Listen to me well, Denedor,” he said quietly. “The lady is leaving Alnwick with or without you. I am therefore offering her to you first because you are a worthy man. However, if you turn this opportunity down, know that my next candidate is Piers Michelson. I am fairly certain he will not let this opportunity slip by.”
Denedor’s calm demeanor turned stiff as he thought of his second in command; Piers was a younger man, slightly rash and very brave, but he was not an appropriate match for the lady. Denedor admirably kept his calm in the face of manipulation and threat.
“She is far too good for him,” he said, purposely leaving out ‘my lord’ to let them know he did not appreciate being cornered. He looked at Keats. “You are seriously determined to marry her off and get her out of the country?”
Keats would not meet his eye which suggested to Denedor that de Vesci was behind all of this.
“Aye,” Keats said after a moment. “To save her life and separate her from that monster, I must do as I feel best. I would like to see her with a good man such as you. But I will not be choosy in desperate times.”
Denedor stared at the man a long moment before turning away. This was sudden, that was true, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. He was sure he could change the lady’s mind about de Velt given time. But he needed more than they were willing to give. He could see how eager de Vesci was to be rid of the woman, a beacon to which de Velt would inevitably be pulled. He suspected that de Velt would not stop until he located the lady, which meant that, at some point, Denedor would have to face him. It was not a pleasant thought. But he also suspected the lady, by then his wife, would be well worth it.
“All right,” he turned and looked at the two men. “I will agree to a betrothal under one condition.”
Keats was back to being hopeful. “What is that?”
Denedor looked pointedly at him. “That you do not tell her right away. Give me time with her; at least let her become accustomed to me. I will tell her when I feel the time is right.”
Keats looked at de Vesci, who was looking at Denedor. With a lingering gaze on his knight, he nodded his head. “Very well,” he said. “But you have little time. Keats leaves to intercept de Velt tomorrow. That means I want you well away from Alnwick by tomorrow night.”
Denedor looked between the two men. “So you still intend to lure him here?”
“I do,” de Vesci replied. “We will never have another opportunity like this again. But I want the lady well out of Alnwick.”
“I assumed you would rather have my strength when you subdue de Velt. Am I wrong?”
“It is more important that you have the lady onto a ship at that point. I have enough knights that can subdue de Velt with sheer numbers once we have him in our trap.”
Denedor shifted on his big legs, finally crossing his thick arms. “If you intend on capturing de Velt, then why must the lady and I leave at all?”
It was Keats who answered. His face was dark, his countenance brooding. There was nothing more powerful than a father’s concern for his only child.
“Because we cannot take the chance that de Velt will elude us,” he rumbled. “If he does, I do not want Kellington anywhere near this place. He will find her. And he will take her.”
Denedor cocked a blond eyebrow; he was older, wiser, a big man, and stubborn as hell once he got his teeth into something. That something was to be the lady.
“Over my dead body.”
Keats looked at him seriously. “Let us hope it does not come to that.”
Somewhere outside the solar, a small figure lingered. Although it had not meant to stumble upon the conversation, it had heard it nonetheless. From the shadows, the figure had heard everything.
It was valuable information.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Kelli?” there was a soft knock at the door and a familiar head poked its way inside. “May I come in, please?”
Kellington was sitting by the familiar lancet window that overlooked the rolling green land beyond Alnwick. It was evening and the sky was deepening shades of purple. She looked at Lavaine as the woman timidly stuck her head inside the door. Her first reaction was to shut the door in her face, but on second thought, she simply couldn’t maintain that level of anger much longer. It was draining. She sighed heavily and looked back to the window.
“I suppose,” she said. “What do you want?”
Lavaine entered, her big brown eyes anxious. “I wanted to see how you were faring,” she gestured weakly towards the door. “Sir Denedor let me in.”
Kellington lifted an eyebrow. “Is he guarding the door?”
“Aye. He’s not left it all day.”
Kellington looked at the woman she had once considered her best friend. She wasn’t sure she would ever feel that way again. Still, there was an odd comfort in seeing her.
“Where have you been?” she finally asked.
Lavaine still stood nervously near the door. “I have been in the family apartments with Lady de Vesci’s women,” she said. “They speak Celt so I cannot understand half of what they say.”
Kellington almost smiled, but not quite. “I have not met Lady de Vesci. I have not been
let out of this room except to walk this morning with Denedor.”
“I know,” Lavaine said. “I saw you. I, too, was walking the grounds this morning. In fact, I wandered all over today. I got lost somewhere near the kitchens but managed to find my way back.”
Kellington nodded and the conversation fell into an uncomfortable silence. Kellington watched Lavaine fidget.
“Now you will tell me the truth,” Kellington lowered her voice. “Did you know my father intended to take me to Alnwick when we left Pelinom?”
Lavaine knew this topic would come up. She nodded miserably. “I did,” she whispered. “But it was for you own good. He had to. Amadeo threatened to kill you if you stayed.”
Kellington had a difficult time believing that, but in fairness, Jax and his knights were killers. They would think nothing of snuffing out a life and she truly had no idea how they functioned in their deep, dark world. Perhaps something like that was normal.
“You heard this?” she questioned.
“Aye.”
“With your own ears? There was no mistake?”
“Nay,” Lavaine shook her head. “Your father had no choice.”
Some of the hurt that Kellington had been feeling for the past day fled. Deep down, she knew that her father loved her and only wanted the best for her. She knew he had been doing what he thought was right by her. Still, it pained her to know that he would not listen to her where Jax was concerned. She still held out hope that she could convince the man of Jax’s honorable intentions.
“Then if that is truly the case, I owe my father an apology,” she said quietly.
Lavaine shrugged, feeling some of the tension drain from the room. “In fairness, I believe he wanted to take you from Pelinom anyway. Amadeo simply gave him assistance in the matter.”
Kellington wasn’t surprised to hear that. She knew as much. Moody, depressed, she turned back to the lancet window and Lavaine began to feel anxious again. She did not like it when she and Kellington quarreled, especially not now. Not when Trevan and their son were gone, and Kellington was all that she had. She began to wring her hands.
“Kelli,” she took timid steps towards her. “How can I make all things right between us?”
Kellington wouldn’t look at her. “I do not know.”
Lavaine grew more agitated. “Please believe that I never meant to hurt you. But I felt… that is, we all felt, that de Velt was not a suitable man for you. You must understand that we only meant to protect you.”
Kellington turned to her, then. “I am perfectly capable of determining who is suitable for me. I do not need you or my father dictating my life to such a degree.”
Lavaine looked miserable. “But he’s a killer, Kelli. He killed Trevan. How can you…?”
Kellington stood up, abruptly cutting her off. “I know what he did and I have been torn up inside about it. I do not know how it is possible for me to care for a man who did that to Trevan, but I do. I do care for him and I am sorry and not sorry at the same time. All I can say is that what he did was the Dark Lord of old, the man we all feared and hated. But the man I’ve come to know over the past few weeks is different. He’s grown somehow. The Dark Lord who killed Trevan knew nothing different. But Jax de Velt does.”
“How can you be so sure?” Lavaine demanded weakly. “How can you know that he has changed? He’s the Dark Lord, for Heaven’s Sake; do you simply think he will forget all that he ever was to become a good and true husband to you? If you sincerely believe that, then I think you are foolish.”
“Then I am foolish,” Kellington snapped, her eyes flashing. “Is that why you came here? To tell me I am foolish?”
Lavaine’s pale face was flushed. “Nay,” she said, calming. “I came to tell you that I heard your father speaking to Denedor earlier.”
“What about?”
“You.”
“What did he say?”
Lavaine paused a moment, debating just how much to tell her. She decided on all of it, hoping it would ease things between them. That had been her purpose when she had walked into the room; it was still her purpose. If it would cause Kellington less hate against her, then she would divulge all she knew.
“He offered Denedor your hand if he would take you away from Alnwick,” she said quietly, knowing the man was on the other side of the door. “Denedor did not want to; he said you were still attached to de Velt and he did not want you to hate him if he were to marry you. But your father and the baron wore him down and told him if he did not take you, they would offer you to another. Only then did Denedor agree.”
Kellington’s eyes were wide. Stunned, it took her several moments to process the information, to understand that yet again her father was plotting against her. This time, he had pulled a stranger into the mix. Denedor was becoming part of her father’s desperation to separate her from Jax.
“So… so I am betrothed to Denedor?” she asked haltingly.
Lavaine nodded. “He did not want to, Kelli. But your father and the baron were very forceful.”
Kellington thought on the big blond knight outside her door. After a moment, she closed her eyes, ill at the thought of marrying someone other than Jax. Not that Denedor did not seem like a kind and decent man; her heart simply did not belong to him.
“Then they are using him as a pawn just as they are using me,” she murmured. “Poor Denedor. It seems so unfair.”
“But there is more,” Lavaine came closer to her. “I heard them say that your father was riding to intercept Jax and that they were going to lay a trap for him.”
“What?” Kellington bolted out of her chair. “What else did they say?”
Lavaine was back to wringing her hands as if to pull her fingers off. “They spoke of subduing him when he was in their trap. That is all I heard, Kelli, honestly. I do not know how they intend to trap him.”
As Kellington stared at the woman, a horrible thought suddenly came to her. It seemed the most logical of things, something that came to her with hardly an effort. Her hand flew to her mouth as if to stifle the scream on her lips.
“I do,” she breathed. “My God, I know how they intend to do it.”
“How?”
Kellington turned away, hand still at her mouth, eyes wide as a horrible realization dawned. There could be no other answer.
“In order to trap him, they must have bait,” she turned to Lavaine. “I would assume that I am to be used as that bait.”
Lavaine shook her head. “But I heard your father tell Denedor that he had to have you on a ship tomorrow night. You will not be at Alnwick. How are they going to use you as bait to lure de Velt?”
Kellington almost cried when she thought of the logical answer. “My father,” she whispered. “He will tell Jax I am at Alnwick and Jax will believe him. My father will use the same lies on Jax as he used on me; he will tell him that he has agreed to our marriage and will encourage Jax to come to Alnwick. And then… then they will spring the trap.”
Lavaine wasn’t as horrified as Kellington was by the thought. The man had murdered her husband and child; she was secretly glad that he would be capture and made to pay for his crimes.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
Kellington shrugged. “As sure as I can be without asking him.”
“What are you going to do?”
There was a long pause. Kellington sighed softly, a thousand thoughts rolling through her head.
“I cannot let them do this to Jax,” she murmured, looking to Lavaine. “Did they say where my father intends to find him?”
“Nay,” Lavaine shook her head. “He only said that he was to intercept him.”
Kellington’s mind began to work. “Then there is only one answer.”
“What is that?”
“I must follow my father.”
Lavaine’s eyes widened. “How do you intend to do that?”
Kellington looked at her friend; her steely expression was devoid of emotion.
“You are
going to help me.”
Lavaine spent the night in Kellington’s room.
*
On a battle march, Jax’s men could push forty miles from sunrise to sunset. Having left White Crag nearly thirteen hours prior, they had covered a little over forty miles. The two hour rest in the trees had eased the men somewhat, but Jax would not wait and had them roused and on the road in the middle of the night. They had at least another twenty miles to go and he was anxious to reach Alnwick by the afternoon. If negotiations failed and there was a siege to be had, then he wanted to commence it at sundown. That was Jax’s preferred time of the day to begin battle. It was the warring time.
The men were excited at the prospect of gaining spoils from Alnwick, which contributed to their willingness to quicken their pace. The great provisions wagons lumbered behind the army, pulled by big draft horses, and the two enormous siege engines creaked and groaned their way to the rear, pulled by a herd of massive horses and a few oxen. But the oxen did not move as quickly as the horses and the beast masters had to maintain a steady whip to the flank to ensure the animals kept pace. It was driven chaos at its finest.
Dawn was still two hours away as Jax, Atreus and Tor rode at the head of the column. The path they had traveled cut north from White Crag and skirted the northern edge of the massive forest that constituted much of Northumberland’s territory before cutting southeast towards the coast. It was wild country but it was the fastest way to get to Alnwick. Jax was, if nothing else, a master navigator and often traveled at night to use the stars. He was never wrong. At the rate they were traveling, he estimated their arrival at Alnwick a few hours after sunrise.
When the army finally began to veer away from the edge of the forest, Jax knew that they were in their last leg of travel to Alnwick. He could feel his excitement and fury rise, knowing with every step that he was growing closer to Kellington and closer to those who would keep her from him. Atreus finally broke the silence they had held for many miles.