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Authors: Robyn Carr

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Fiction

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BOOK: The Everlasting Covenant
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Anne took two steps toward him, her hand flying with a will of its own. She slapped his face with all her strength, catching him completely by surprise. Her palm stung in pain.

Don

t you ever lay a hand to my child,

she nearly screamed.

Instinctively, Brainard raised his own hand to return the slap,
but Sir Clifton was quicker and grabbed both of Brainard

s arms, holding them behind his back.

No, lad, you do not strike my lady. Not ever.

Brainard was uninterested in Clifton

s cautioning words and his restraining hold, though he did not struggle against the larger, stronger man. Instead, he vented his anger at Anne.

Why don

t you just keep the little bastard away from me then? What do you expect, that I

m a nurse to play lackey to the little donkey?


Your cruelty knows no bounds, Brainard. He is your brother,

she shouted back.

Brainard, still being held, spat at the ground.

I disclaim him. He is only the nameless cur you gave my father. Do not ever think that I will yield one portion of what is mine to that
--

Anne slapped him again, using the same hand. This time she brought a trickle of blood from his lip. Suddenly, Brainard smiled in irony.

Do you hold me for her assault, Cliff? Is that where your loyalty lies? Get her the whip that she might beat me properly. Does the slut own even you?

Clifton made no reply, but gave his arms a jerk to show that he would, indeed, hold him fast against any further assault on his lady or the child. Clifton ground his teeth, the muscles in his arms aching to take Brainard to the ground and beat him senseless. This was not the first time he had had such an urge. He had always given Brainard his best, yet his young ward treated Clifton like a beast of burden, a slave. Brainard had always laughed at Clifton

s demands for respect.

Brainard quieted, looking past Anne. Behind her, Brennan and Marcella both stood. Brennan must have run all the way from his closet to have reached them so quickly. It was quite obvious that he had either heard or been instantly summoned, for he stood in a short gown, opened at the throat and with sleeves rolled up, as though he had been hard at work when the disturbance began. He glared at Brainard and then stooped to look at Sloan.


I

m sorry, Father,

Sloan said, nearly weeping.

I didn

t mean to make Brainard mad
again ... I only wanted to ..
.

Brennan stood, his eyes locked into Brainard

s. He was not a large man, but in the rage that pinkened his cheeks and caused his eyes to blaze, he seemed enormous. Clifton released Brain
ard

s arms and retreated, and Anne turned back to her son. The rest of this was between Brennan and his firstborn.


I apologize for the misunderstanding, my lord, I
--


Misunderstanding?

Brennan thundered.

How do you ad
dress my wife
? Do you lay a hand to my son?

Brainard rubbed his cheek, a disrespectful grunt escaping him.

I am likewise your son, my lord, unless you

ve forgotten. Do you naturally assume
I
am at fault here?


You are a man. You struck a child. And if my eyes do not deceive me, you would have struck my wife.


It was natural. It
--

He laughed in disbelief as he looked at his angry father.

I am your heir, but you place them high above
me.


God keep me safe and well, for you are not nearly ready to inherit my estates. When have you proven yourself capable of managing any part of this? Do you know how to pay the men? Do you know what sum is rendered for the household? Do you know the number of villeins, stock, the expected yield from the fields? Do you know which neighboring barons have pledged fealty to this county, or the sheriff

s tally for taxes, or the tithe? Nay,

he stormed.

You decry the countess

s good name and strike my second-born son in a temper! Should I entrust their care to you?

Brennan

s fists were clenched at his sides, his face was turning purple with anger. He had ignored Brainard for too long. The boy was not developing any of the skills he would need to inherit this earldom, instead, he was playing with costly battle gear that had never seen battle or even a good tournament. He was swilling wine, wenching, and bracing arms with knights in late-night revelry, acting more like a base-born knave than a carefully reared young nobleman.

A thought came to mind and Brennan

s temper cooled.

There is a property of mine in Wales, not too distant from Ludlow Castle. Ramsford Keep was your mother

s, and she loved it. It
is held on my behalf by Sir Baelfour. You will go there and prove yourself as an overlord.


Ramsford? Father, that is a hovel, a wasted ...


It is a stronghold for King Edward among the Welsh tribes. It serves its purpose and houses six hundred people, though it is not one-tenth of this. And mark me, before you take Ayliffe, you had better show that you can manage something.


My lord, I was to go to Eltham Castle
with you, to wait upon the king
...


That was before you disgraced yourself. I have thought better of it since. You are spoiled, Brainard, and if the fault is mine, I will rectify it.


My lord, I beseech your
--


There is no discussion,

he boomed.

Gather your precious metals from your privy stable, find a suitable palfrey, and drag your destrier. You will not need a capari
soned horse or gold-
plated sword there, you will need a sharp mind and a strong arm. The Welshmen will teach you the value of property and nobility. If you fail to learn among them, you will surely not live to get your booty here.

Brennan turned from his elder son to look at his younger. Anne was struggling to lift the stocky four-year-old, despite his protests and her early pregnancy.


Sir Clifton, carry my son to his nurse for the lady.

He began to walk away from the disruptive scene, assuming his orders would be followed as usual.


Once you

ve put the babe to bed, hie yourself back here, Sir Cliff. We winter in Wales.

Brennan stopped in his tracks, finding it hard to believe that Brainard would continue to push the point with insolence. He slowly turned back to him.

I will provide an escort,

Brennan said with dangerous calm,

but Sir Clifton has suffered long enough under your brutish dominion. He deserves respite, as do the rest of us. He will stay in Ayliffe.

Brennan stormed off in the direction of the hall, leaving the rest of them behind. Anne knew it would be a long while before his seldom roused anger would cool. She stood patiently aside
while Clifton wordlessly lifted Sloan in his arms to carry him into the hall. She attempted to follow, but her sleeve was snared by Marcella.


Anne, we must finish our discussion about Bart.

Anne snatched her arm away, close to losing her temper with Marcella for the first time in years.

God above, madam, cease your demands while I see to my child! Bother me no more!

She followed Clifton

s departing back, lifting her skirts to keep up with his long strides, listening to Sloan

s tearful protests that he could walk.

She had never brought complaint to her husband

s ears in regard to his older son and frequently feared that Brennan did not notice Brainard

s tyranny. Brainard

s interest in the wealth and power of Ayliffe was confined to whatever money or pos
session or liberty his command would afford him. Anne was relieved that Brennan finally noticed Brainard

s bad behavior, but the discipline was too late to help either Forbes son. Sloan would surely be hated even more.

Sir Clifton placed Sloan carefully on his bed, and Anne sat down beside him. She sent his nurse and two maids for water, cloths, salves, and clean clothing while she endeavored to soothe her child. His little face was badly battered by the blow and, once in the safe confines of his nursery, he began to cry.


Why does Brainard hate me so, Mother? I am always careful with his things. I never touched without asking.


It is no fault of yours, my lit
tle love. Brainard can be mean-
hearted and impatient.

She placed a cool wet cloth over his eyes, brushing his light hair away from his brow. At times she could see so much of Dylan in him. His fair wheat-colored hair and bright turquoise eyes were so like his sire

s It was most fortunate that the resemblance went no further and that the Gifford family had predominantly fair hair and light-colored eyes. Sloan resembled Anne, too, in his mouth and quick smile. Some castlefolk even remarked that he looked like Brennan. But when Anne held and comforted this little lad, it was as if she could keep Dylan safe and loved.

She stayed with him until his nurse was able to urge her
successfully from his side. She found that Sir Clifton waited at the door, his eyes respectfully downcast, as was usual for him.


My lady, I
--


Say nothing, Sir Cliff. I know perfectly well that you did what you could.


I have a request, madam. I fear to bring it to your ears.


Let me hear it, Sir Cliff,

she said, hoping it was not much of a request. She had been so burdened with her mother

s con
stant appeals that she felt exhausted. She would gladly cede whatever would stop the begging for a while. In fact, it was Marcella

s voice stilling ringing in her ears that prevented her from giving her full attention to Sir Cliff.


I ... ah ... my lady, I know I did not prove myself a worthy guardian and teacher for Brainard, but given a chance, I would take on the training of young Sloan while he remains with you.

Clifton raised his gaze to look into the eyes of the countess. He hoped she would not see how smitten he was. He longed to be within a step of her. Her sweet, natural fragrance caused his head to spin, her beauty gave him bothersome dreams.

I would do better by this one, my lady, or die trying.

Since coming to Ayliffe she had wondered where Brainard

s problem was rooted, whether it was Brennan

s lack of attention, Clifton

s poor ability to train a young man, or perhaps even some trauma linked to his mother

s untimely death. She was never sure, Brainard was impossible for anyone to manage, much less train.


His lordship was wise to suggest Ramsford. I have been to Ramsfor
d. The men are hard and hearty –
Brainard will prove himself a capable heir ... or not. It is a place of tests. Brainard wishes to rule, and rule he shall, though it is doubtful he will be successful. Still, he will not have much time to brood and complain
. He cannot do much damage ..
.

Anne

s listening sharpened. She was thinking of Bart, who was not unlike Brainard in many respects. He did not fight or work hard, but he wanted much. His letters flowed to Marcella. Anne suddenly knew what had been bothering her, nagging her. Quentin could be respected for his fairness, and she loved and
trusted Trenton. But Bart and her mother proved a worrisome combination. A wealthy and influential Bart could be worse than his constant begging Sir Clifton, whether or not he realized it, offered a solution.

BOOK: The Everlasting Covenant
11.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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