The Iron Knight (The De Russe Legacy Book 3) (12 page)

Laurent, as well as the others, must have sensed this. Knowing that Lucien had been at the head of every battle for the past ten years, and also knowing how the last battle at Bramham had not only ended his career but very nearly his life, Laurent began to intervene in his father’s rant, talking the man down, distracting him with other subjects and trying desperately to get him off of the subject of Henry and the rebellions against him. It was a wide and general subject Holderness was tackling, with a variety of factors and players that spread out like a spider’s web, but Holderness didn’t seem to care that he was verging on insulting the man he wanted his daughter to marry. The wine had seen to that.

Lucien had all he could take when Holderness ventured into the taboo subject – the battle at Bramham Moor, the last and most decisive battle in the rebellion against Henry. As soon as the man started in on it, in spite of Laurent’s struggles to prevent it, Lucien simply stood up and walked from the table. He had to get clear of Holderness before the man said something that Lucien would violently react to, but Holderness, in his drunken state, wasn’t apt to let him leave.

“De Russe!” he yelled as Laurent tried to intervene. “Where are you going? I am not finished with you yet!”

Lucien wasn’t known for his infinite patience. Moreover, he didn’t want the man hounding him in his drunken state. Abruptly, he whirled on his heel and marched over to Holderness as Laurent tried desperately to put himself between his father and de Russe. Even Colton and Gabriel leapt up, also placing themselves between their liege and the Earl of Holderness.

“He is drunk, Lucien,” Colton said quickly, quietly. “You know this. It is your own fault for feeding him wine as you did. Keep that in mind before you take his head off.”

Lucien didn’t even look at Colton. He didn’t even acknowledge the man. A massive hand shot out, plowing through the knights that were standing in front of him, and grabbed Holderness by the neck. Now, the knights were pushing Lucien back before he could do any real damage.

“One more word from your foolish mouth and I will snap your neck,” Lucien snarled. “Do you hear me?”

Holderness wasn’t so drunk that he didn’t realize he was suddenly in a very bad position. “Let go of me,” he hissed. “Let go of me, I say!”

Lucien squeezed and Colton and Gabriel, shoving hard, broke his grip on Holderness, but Lucien didn’t like being manhandled by his own knights. He pushed himself away from them, angrily.

“Listen to me, de Saix,” he growled. “I will not be related to a man like you. I will not have you in my circle or in my family. You cannot hold your wine and you do not know when to shut your mouth, and both of those failings are stupid and deadly in my world. Take your daughter and get out of here. There will be no marriage.”

With that, he turned away, waving Colton off when the man tried to follow him. As he left the hall, with Holderness sputtering and gasping in outrage, he was rather pleased with the situation. Getting Holderness drunk had worked out even better than he’d hoped because it had given him an excuse to get out of the marital contract. He would make sure to send Henry a missive that very night stating that Holderness, and his daughter, were unacceptable because now he had a reason to refuse the bargain. That sweet Spanish wine had given him an even greater and unexpected gift.

Out in the dusk, his mood was actually a good deal lighter than it had been moments earlier. He was free of his marital contract! It was all he could think about, as if a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders, but in the very next breath his thoughts turned to Lady Sophina.

A goddess divine….

And that goddess was in his keep, sealed up in a chamber, and he would keep her there until the day he married her. Well, perhaps not literally, but figuratively. He had not, and would not, send word to du Ponte. He wouldn’t even send word to the lady’s father, Lord Andover. He would marry her tomorrow and then send his happy wedding announcements all around, Henry included, as Holderness and his daughter returned to Surrey in shame.

It was all he could do to keep from shouting his glee. He still had to feign anger for his men and any of Holderness’ men who happened to be watching. On the outside, he was still disgusted and furious with Holderness. But on the inside, he was as light as a feather.

Smells from the kitchens wafted on the warm breeze, reminding him that the evening meal was an hour or two away. He would see Lady Sophina at the meal and spend the entire evening in conversation with her and only her. It was with thoughts of Lady Sophina heavy on his mind that he headed for the keep, hoping to see the woman again. He’d so enjoyed their time together and now he wanted to enjoy more time with her. It was all he could think of.

Entering the ground floor, the first thing he heard was wailing and he knew exactly who it was. He’d heard that wailing before. Usually, it killed his good mood like an arrow through the heart, but this time, he refused to let it get to him. He took the spiral stairs up to the next floor only to see his daughter on her buttocks, banging her canes around and screaming. He could see her nurse over in the doorway to her chamber, nervously wringing her hands, and he frowned.

“What goes on here?” he demanded. “Susanna, cease you screaming. What is the matter?”

Susanna came to an instant halt at the sound of her father’s voice. Her big brown eyes turned to him, red from weeping.

“There are girls on the floor above and they will not come and talk to me,” she sobbed. “Make them come, Papa! Make them come to me!”

Lucien put his hands on his hips. “Is that what this is about?” he asked irritably. “You are screaming over something so foolish?”

Susanna banged her canes on the floor again. “It is
not
foolish!” she wept angrily. “I have no friends, Papa. It is your fault I have no friends. Yet you have brought girls to Spelthorne and you will not even allow me to make friends with them!”

She was off on a crying jag and Lucien sighed heavily, struggling against the inherent guilt that Susanna always brought out in him.
It is your fault
. Aye, everything was his fault. He knew that. But today, he would not give in to her screams. Silently, he bent over and swept her into his arms, cradling her little body against his broad chest as he took her back into her chamber.

It was perhaps the most lavish chamber in all of England. A very big room, it had a massive bed frame, painted with beautiful flowers and animals, and heavy brocaded curtains that hung all around the bed. There were fur rugs all across the floor, meant to cushion her feet when she did, in fact, decide that she wanted to walk, and there was an entire area where a painting easel and other art supplies were neatly kept. Yet another corner had poppets and toys, including a doll’s house built like a castle, which had been imported all the way from France.

In all, it was a stunning room for a treasured child, but Susanna saw it as her prison. She always had. She screamed and clung to Lucien’s neck as he tried to set her down on the bed.

“Nay, Papa!” she wept. “Do not leave me!”

Lucien didn’t give in to her plea. He gently pried her arms from around his neck. “I must leave you for now,” he said. “You will see me later, I promise. Will you please let me go now?”

She did, reluctantly, deliberately giving him the most pathetic expression that she could manage. “But you did not agree to bring the girls to me,” she demanded. “You
must
bring them. And tell them that they must entertain me. I want to hear stories and I want them to sing for me!”

Lucien stood back, hands on hips, as Susanna’s nurse rushed up to help her charge. The woman fussed over Susanna so frantically that Lucien knew the nurse was part of his daughter’s problem. The woman catered to her and encouraged her tantrums when she should not. But the woman, Lady Leonie, had been with her since she was born and Lucien couldn’t bring himself to discharge her. If he did, not only would his daughter be even more miserable, but so would he because there would be no one to tend her and he would have to go through the effort of finding someone new.

It was a horribly selfish reason, but his reasoning nonetheless. Lady Leonie, at least, kept some measure of peace where his daughter was concerned. The truth was that his daughter scared him and mentally exhausted him, so the less contact he had with her, the better.

“I will not bring them here if you are going to make such demands on them,” he said frankly. “Listen to what you are saying, Susanna – you want them to entertain you and sing for you. Such imperious demands are rude. Do you not understand that?”

Susanna’s lip stuck out in a pout. “But I do not have any friends to entertain me!” she insisted. “What else are they to do when they come to me?”

Lucien shook his head. “They are not obligated to entertain you,” he said. “Be polite and be kind. Be interested in who they are. Ask them about their lives and where they were born. Let them talk to you. That will be entertainment enough.”

He made sense but it was all a foreign concept to Susanna. She had very little social skills because everyone at Spelthorne mostly kept away from her. Therefore, meeting new people, and especially girls her own age, was difficult for her. She genuinely had no idea how to behave. Her brow furrowed, although it was clear that she was mulling over his words.

“But what if they will not tell me where they were born?” she asked. “What if they will not tell me anything at all?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “And you think a tantrum is going to force them to speak?” he shook his head. “You must learn to control your anger, child. You cannot always have everything that you want. Sometimes, kindness and politeness will get you much further than anger. If you want them to be your friends, then you must show them that you are worthy. No one wants to be the friend of a screaming child. Will you at least try to be kind?”

Susanna’s frown deepened, torn between guilt and confusion and defiance. But she nodded hesitantly. “I will,” she said. “Now, will you bring them to me?”

Lucien didn’t have time for that at the moment. His wants were more pressing. But he couldn’t ignore his daughter completely; he did that enough. He sighed reluctantly.

“If you behave yourself, then I shall allow you to attend sup tonight,” he said. “We have many fine guests and I think you would like to meet all of them, the girls included. So no more screaming, no more fits – behave yourself and be a kind, thoughtful young lady and you shall be rewarded.”

Susanna’s features lit up. “Can I, Papa?” she gasped. “Can I really attend sup in the hall?”

“If you promise to behave.”

She nodded eagerly. The incentive of eating with the adults in the hall was a very big lure. Too often she ate in her room, kept from the knights and adults at Spelthorne. Lucien told her that he did it for her own protection but Susanna was convinced he did it because he didn’t like her. She knew her own father was ashamed of her. That only fed the tantrums she was so capable of.

Susanna was a very sad, confused young lady.

“I promise I shall be polite,” she insisted. “Will you come for me when it is time for sup?”

“I will.”

“I can hardly wait!”

She was rosy with glee. Lucien left the chamber, feeling great relief as he shut the door behind him. He always felt a great deal of relief when he left his daughter’s presence. That relief, however, was also coupled with guilt. As the child’s father, he felt as if he should want to spend time with her, not run from her, but the dynamic between them had always been this way. He had never known anything else. She screamed, he ran. If he really wanted to admit the truth to himself, deep-down, he couldn’t stand to look at Susanna because the child’s birth killed her mother. He’d lost a lovely, gentle woman and gained a screaming, spoiled creature, instead.

It just wasn’t fair.

There was that guilt again, blaming Susanna for her mother’s death and feeling horrible because he had such thoughts. But he shook off the familiar remorse and sadness, instead focusing on the lovely woman on the floor above. He was very eager to see Lady Sophina, eager to see if those two wonderful hours he spent with her were just a fluke. He wanted to talk to her again to see if, indeed, it was still the same lady he remembered.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he ended up at the top of the stairwell and was faced with four doors – two of them were immediately to his right and to his left, chambers that were used to house female guests, which was a rare occurrence, and then two doors directly in front of him. Those closed off chambers were where possessions and trunks were usually stored, or where servants slept. Therefore, he knew Sophina was in one of the doors immediately to his left or his right; not having settled the woman personally, he didn’t know which door she was behind, so he chose the one to his left. Rapping on the heavy oak panel, he called softly.

“My lady?” he said. “It is Lucien. May I speak with you?”

He could hear some shuffling going on inside the room and his heart was beating firmly against his ribs with excitement. The anticipation of seeing her again was causing his palms to sweat and he suddenly ran his hands through his shoulder-length dark hair, smoothing at it, hoping he looked neat and attractive enough. He never gave a second thought to his longer hair or stubbled face, but he was now. He wished he had at least shaved. When the door rattled, he stood straight, bracing himself for the sight of that beautiful face. But when the door finally opened, he felt as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown on him.

A young, unfamiliar woman was facing him.

“Sir Lucien?” she said timidly. “How… how good of you to come and introduce yourself. I thought mayhap we would be formally introduced tonight at the evening meal but I am glad you came when you did. It is an honor and a privilege to meet you, my lord.”

She dipped into a curtsy and Lucien noticed, standing several feel behind her, another woman covered nearly head to toe in fabric. But Lucien’s gaze moved back to the young woman still in a polite curtsy in front of him and it suddenly occurred to him who she was. He should have remembered that, somewhere in this keep, Holderness’ daughter would have also been lodged. He very nearly clapped a hand to his forehead with the force of his mistake. He could hardly believe what he’d done.