Trenton looked at him, curiously. “What is it?”
Dane patted him on the shoulder. “I am not even supposed to know this, but Mother confessed to me one night because she could not deal with it alone,” he said. “In fact, I was going to send word to you about it but I am glad you have come to me first. It’s Da – the physics think he has a cancer in his throat. He has had a bad cough this past year, something he could not shake, and two physics from London came and diagnosed him with a tumor in his throat. His health has been deteriorating.”
Trenton was looking at him in horror, the first strong emotion Dane had seen on the man’s face in a very long time. “My father is sick?”
Dane nodded seriously. “I am sorry, Trenton,” he murmured. “Mother knows, of course, as does Cort, but no one else. Da does not even know that Cort and I know, and now you. You must not let him know that you know. It would wound his pride if he knew that his sons knew of his health issue. To him, we must always believe he is strong and invincible. He is The Dark One, after all. He has a reputation to uphold.”
Trenton stared at him. Then, in a shocking move, his lower lip began to tremble and he slapped a hand over his mouth, looking at Dane with eyes that were growing moist. That reaction from Trenton brought out Dane’s emotional response and he put both of his hands on him, a comforting gesture, but one that put a lump in Dane’s throat. It was like a dagger to his heart to see Trenton so upset.
“Nay, Dane,” Trenton said through his hand. “My father is not dying. Tell me he is not dying.”
Dane’s eyes were moist and he drew in a long, steadying breath. “He is getting old,” he said frankly. “He will see seventy years next year, Trenton. He is not a young man any longer. That is the truth. He has lived a long and full life, and he has been very happy. You must remember that.”
Trenton still had his hand over his mouth. “But he has been unhappy with me,” he muttered. “I have brought him a great deal of disappointment.”
Dane shook his head. “You know that is not true,” he said. “He always wanted great things for you. You had to follow your own path and it was difficult for him to accept it, that’s all. But he has accepted it. He is proud of you, I promise.”
Trenton blinked and tears splattered onto his dark eyelashes, tears he quickly wiped away. Drawing in a long, deep breath, he labored to keep his composure.
“And I have come, asking him to ride to Wellesbourne and fight my battles for me,” he said, clearly devastated. “He should not be making such a trip. He should not be burdened with this.”
Dane agreed with him, but he wasn’t going to say so. “But he is going to go,” he said. “If you have asked it of him, he will go. And you cannot tell him not to; he will wonder why. If he knows that you know about his cancer, it will destroy him.”
Trenton nodded, wiping at his nose, slowly regaining his poise. “You are correct, of course,” he said. “But I feel so terrible that I have asked this of him when his health is not good. I remember thinking when I saw him last night how much he had aged, but I did not know it is because he has been ill.”
Dane nodded faintly. “No one else knows, either, although I suspect Uncle Matthew might. My mother doesn’t keep much from him with regards to our father.”
Although he was calmer now, Trenton was feeling hollow and weak. He and his father had a turbulent relationship, but he wasn’t ready to lose him. He was still that little boy who loved and admired his father greatly, and the thought of losing his father made him feel absolutely lost.
“What do I do now?” he asked. “I have asked father to intervene with Uncle Matthew and I should not have. I have a wife who lives off of my money and my name, who has taken everything from me right down to my self-respect, and when I find a woman I love, I cannot even have her. God, I wish I’d never even heard the name Adela of Brittany. It is a curse I can never be rid of.”
They were all questions without answers, statements with no resolutions. With that, he touched Dane’s cheek in a brotherly gesture and walked off, wandering away to contemplate what his life had become and further contemplate the very real possibility of losing his father in the near future. It was all too much to take for him and, at the moment, he needed to be alone.
It’s a curse I can never be rid of.
Dane watched his brother walk away, feeling so very terrible for him. He hated to see him so distraught, with so many problems to deal with. It simply wasn’t fair, and Dane wished with all his heart that he could help him.
… and perhaps he could.
Dane was brilliant, that was true, but he was also crafty. He wanted to help his brother badly enough that he would do almost anything for him, even help him with a problem that, by law and by God, the man could do nothing about.
Adela.
She was the core of the issue, that bitch who lived in Trenton’s house, spent Trenton’s money, and spoke horribly of the de Russe family in general. She made it no secret that she hated the family, and Dane had heard about the terrible things she’d said. So had Gaston, and Remington to a certain extent. All rumors and gossip floating around Wiltshire, the French wife of Trenton de Russe who couldn’t stand anything English, especially her husband or his family.
It was a situation that had never really concerned Dane until now. Now, he felt as if his vision had cleared and could see that there was one thing standing in the way of his brother’s happiness. His father was going to Wellesbourne to try and convince Matthew to allow their children to enter into a clandestine and dishonorable relationship, which would be one more thing for Adela to lament over and point out how terrible the de Russe family was. Dane wasn’t going to let that happen.
For Trenton’s sake, he would pay Adela a visit.
Lost in thought, Dane turned back for the training field. In the distance, he could see his younger brother, Cort, as the man ran some new troops through their paces with swordplay. Cort was animated, yelling at the men, but then calling everything to a halt so he could speak patiently with the group. Cort was a fine man, with a tremendous grasp of what was right and what was wrong. His moral compass was a strong one.
Dane needed to speak with the man.
In days of old, it was Trenton that Dane would always drag into his schemes. Dane had gotten Trenton into more trouble than he could recall but, in the end, it had bonded them like nothing else could. Partners in crime, partners in brotherhood. Now, Dane was looking for Cort to be his cohort in crime. He had Trenton’s size and skill, but Dane’s conniving traits. He was fearless, and even reckless, in a way Dane could never hope to be, and if anyone would be willing to help Trenton in this situation, it would be Cort.
Dane knew he could count on that.
Therefore, he pulled his younger brother away from the men and into a private corner of the yard where he explained the situation with Trenton, with Lysabel, with Matthew, and with Gaston. Before Dane had come to the conclusion of his story, Cort was already formulating a plan of action.
“You know what we have to do, don’t you?” Cort asked, interrupting his brother. “We have to go to Penleigh House. We cannot stand for this any longer, Dane. We must get rid of Adela once and for all.”
Dane knew that he and his brother thought very much alike, in most instances. “My thoughts exactly,” he said. “This cannot go on any longer, Cort. Trenton cannot do anything about it, and Da will not do anything about it, so it is up to us to solve the issue once and for all, especially now that Trenton’s happiness is at stake and Da is being pulled into the mess. You know he’s not well enough for to deal with any of this.”
Cort nodded eagerly, his copper curls glimmering. “I know.” Then, he looked at Dane curiously. “So Trenton is truly in love with Lysabel de Wilde, then?”
“Wellesbourne,” Dane reminded him. “She is a Wellesbourne. After hearing what Benoit de Wilde did to her, we will not mention that name again. Understood?”
Cort nodded. “I never liked him, anyway,” h
e said. “But Trenton and Lysabel… I can hardly believe it.”
“Believe it,” Dane said, an eyebrow cocked. “And, unfortunately, time is of the essence. Trenton has asked Da to go to Wellesbourne Castle, and it is my assumption that he will go very soon. That means we must take care of Adela sooner rather than later.”
“What did you have in mind?”
Dane shrugged. “I’m not advocating killing the woman,” he said. “I may hate her for what she’s done, but I cannot condone outright murder of a female. She’s a greedy sort – she might respond well to a bribe to leave England and never return.”
Cort’s features twisted into a wry expression. “And if she takes the money and returns anyway? What then? She’ll be back in his life and the problems will be compounded. We need to get rid of her, Dane, not simply sweep her under the rushes.”
Dane couldn’t disagree. “I suppose we could abduct her and hide her away in a vault somewhere, forever.”
“Or we could sell her to the highest bidder,” he said. “You know they still have that old slave market over in Northwic, the one that has been around since the days of Danelaw. I’ve heard that they still deal in slaves with men from France and beyond. They particularly like pale-skinned women in The Levant, you know.”
Dane looked at his brother, a grin on his lips. “Sell her?”
Cort shrugged. “They’ll take her away to their home across the sea and we will never hear from her again. More importantly, Trenton will never hear from her again. He will be free.”
Short of murdering the woman and throwing her body into a bog, Dane thought that was as good a plan as any, for certainly, something had to be done and it had to be done now. Too much was at stake to leave it to chance or to delay.
“I suppose that is as good a choice as any,” he said. “Then we ride to Penleigh House tonight, under the full moon. We will sneak into the place, abduct Adela, and be on the road to Northwic before anyone is the wiser. It will take us at least four days to get there, though. Four days with a screaming captive.”
Cort didn’t think that was ideal, either, but there was little choice. “I will see if I can steal some poppy powder from Da,” he said. “The stuff makes him sleep. Mayhap I can get enough to keep the woman unconscious until we can get her to Northwic.”
Dane sighed heavily. “Oh, we can simply keep knocking her senseless every time she comes around,” he said, watching Cort grin. Reaching out, he grasped his brother by the arm. “Well, then? We’re in this together?”
Cort nodded firmly. “We are,” he said. “I need some adventure in my life, anyway. Training troops is boring me to tears.”
Dane couldn’t help but shake his head at the man. “This is not some grand adventure, Cort,” he said. “We are doing this for a reason. This is serious business.”
Cort never took anything too seriously. He flashed a dimpled grin at his brother to let him know that this was an adventure to him, like it or not. “I’ll look at it my way and you look at it yours,” he said. “In any case, we will have to make arrangements for the troops for the next few weeks. We’ll have to get men to cover our duties.”
Dane glanced out over the troop grounds, full of men as dust flew up into the morning air. “I will speak with the sergeants,” he said. “I will not tell them where we are going, of course, but I will make sure they cover training until we return. Meanwhile, you go and pack everything we will need, including something to tie Adela up with. And get a sack for her head so no one can see her face when we transport her. We need to keep her covered up.”
Cort snorted. “I will find charcoal and draw a hideous face on the sack. We will tell everyone that is what she really looks like.”
Dane started to chuckle. “At least until we get to the slave market,” he said. “After that, we will have to let men see her face if we are going to sell her off.”
“What if she tells them that she has been abducted?”
Dane rolled his eyes. “Who are they going to believe? A hysterical female or two seasoned knights?”
Cort merely shrugged. They both knew the plan was risky at best, but for Trenton’s sake, they were willing to try. Given the situation, and the misery of both Trenton and Gaston with the horror Adela had created, Dane was more than willing to risk whatever he had to in order to rid them of the Countess of Westbury once and for all.
Were the situation reversed, he knew that Trenton would do the same for him.
It was time to do what should have been done years ago. Dane and Cort were going to see to it that Adela of Brittany was never a thorn in a de Russe side ever again.
And no one would ever know the truth.
It was a cool evening after a warm summer’s day, and Trenton was standing out on the steps of Deverill’s massive keep, gazing up at the stars.
So many stars, he thought, wondering if Lysabel was looking up in the sky at that moment. He wondered what she was doing and if Cynethryn and Brencis were back to riding their ponies. Around him, the walls of Deverill were lit up with sentries bearing torches, and the grounds were patrolled by men with big dogs. Everything was peaceful for the most part, but for Trenton, there was no peace.
He missed Lysabel dreadfully.
The evening meal had been a glorious affair of laughter and family warmth, and it had been a bright moment in an otherwise hellish day. After what Dane had told him about his father, he kept looking at Gaston to see if he could spot any sign of the cancer the physics said he had, but all he could see was a tired older man. Gaston was smiling, at times chiding Boden and Gage, who were combative with each other, but for the most part, he looked like the father he remembered. He felt like the worst son in the world for staying away so long and for holding a grudge about Adela, about other things.
He wished he could take it all back.
At the meal, Gaston announced his plans to depart for Wellesbourne on the morrow. No one really knew the circumstances for his trip, as Gaston had only confided them to Remington, but traveling to Wellesbourne was quite common for Gaston, so there were no questions as to why. In fact, Boden and Gage insisted on going with him, and Gaston relented, mostly because it was easier to permit them rather than denying them.
The younger de Russe boys were known to do what they wanted and then beg forgiveness if their father became too terribly angry about it. The Dark One, such a strict and sometimes cruel trainer of men, didn’t seem to have the same standards when it came to his younger sons.
He took joy in every cheeky exploit.
With the trip set for the morrow, the meal lasted perhaps a little longer than usual, with Trenton sitting between Dane and his mother, Remington. She seemed to be the only one not particularly pleased that Gaston was going to Wellesbourne, but she didn’t say so. It was more in her expression than anything else. She kept her mouth shut, watching her husband closely as the night progressed, and it was something that Trenton found his attention drawn to.
Remington had always been protective of Gaston, for as long as Trenton could remember. A deeply caring woman, he could only imagine that her caring instincts were heightened now that Gaston’s health was deteriorating. Trenton found that he couldn’t look at her too much because it only reminded him of his father’s failing health, so when Gaston finally excused himself for bed, Trenton left the table also and wandered out of the keep to lose himself in thoughts of the present, and of the future.
He simply couldn’t believe how his life had changed in a relatively short amount of time.
“I thought I would find you out here.”
Trenton turned to see his mother emerging from the keep, a smile on her lovely face. He’d always thought she was just about the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and even in her advancing years, that hadn’t changed. She was still lovely with her copper-colored curls, all wound up on top of her head, and her sea-colored eyes. He smiled weakly.
“It is cooler out here than in the hall,” he said. “That place is like an ov
en when the days are warm.”
Remington laughed softly. “It was made to keep us all warm when the weather is so cold,” she said. “The circulation is bad and in warmer weather, that means the hall becomes somewhat stifling.”
Trenton nodded in agreement as she came to the step next to him and looped her arm through his. He looked down at her as she gazed up at the night sky.
“It is good to be home,” he told her. “I have missed it.”
She smiled as she looked at him. “And we have missed you.”
He smiled back at her, turning away to look up at the stars again, unaware that she was still looking at him.
“You just missed Skye and Nicolas,” she continued. “They were here not long ago with some of their children. Did you now that they are now grandparents? Their eldest, Robert, has a son and he brought the infant along. Nicolas is so proud he could burst.”
Trenton thought on his father’s younger cousin, Nicolas, who was the brother to Patrick de Russe. Nicolas had married Skye Halsey, Remington’s younger sister, many years ago. He had always been a man of short temper, easily stirred, but he was a good knight. He lived in London with his family and had become part of Henry’s diplomatic corps, oddly enough. The young knight Trenton remembered, who was so easily riled, had grown up to become a rather great communicator and excellent diplomat. It was ironic.
“I see Adrian from time to time whilst I am in London,” he said. “I did hear about the grandchild. Martin, they named him. After Nicolas’ father.”
Remington nodded. “Boden and Gage call the baby Marty, which Adrian hates.” She giggled. “The last day of their visit, Gage started calling the child Farty Marty. I thought Adrian was going to rip his head off.”
Trenton laughed at the antics of his youngest brothers. “God’s Bones, those two are a pair,” he said. “Full of the devil.”
“They remind me of you and Dane when you were younger.”
“We were never that bad.”