Read Lord of War: Black Angel Online
Authors: Kathryn le Veque
Brennan came down from the wall and went to intercept the carriage. As he drew close, he could see movement at the top of the motte as Lady de Russe made an appearance. She had three out of the four female servants with her, carrying satchels and sacks with them as they carefully made their way down the motte steps.
Brennan was watching, feeling the distinct onset of panic. Once Lady de Russe loaded the carriage, there would be nothing to truly stop her from leaving unless Brennan made himself a human sacrifice before the whip-driven horses. His mind moved quickly, trying to think of a way to delay her until her husband arrived.
One of the gray horses shifted and kicked, and his attention was drawn to the hitching mechanism that connected the harnesses to the coach. A thought occurred to him; keeping his eyes on Lady de Russe as she descended the stairs, he edged his way over to the harness and, casually, reached down and plucked out the pin that held it all together. Using the iron pin, he poked one of the horses in the butt hard enough to cause the animal to bolt, and the entire rig pulled apart.
The coach staggered sideways as the team stumbled off. Soldiers and grooms went running after them, corralling them, as Ellowyn, now at the base of the motte, looked on in concern. Brennan pretended to be concerned as well, trying not to look at Lady de Russe as she wondered what had happened to her coach and team. In fact, he ignored her even as she began to load her own baggage into the cab.
When she wasn’t looking, he slipped around to the oppose side, popped open the door, and unloaded her baggage from the other side. Then he would slip it under the cab where she had set all of her bags to be loaded. Ellowyn ended up loading the same bags at least three times before she thought something was amiss, and by that time, the gates of Guildford were opening for the returning duke.
Brandt thundered into the bailey alongside Dylan and with two other horses following close behind. The first thing he saw as he rode into the bailey was his wife’s carriage near the motte, which both surprised and concerned him. The doors were open and as he drew closer through the crowds of men, he could see two of the female servants near the coach and baggage on the ground. Then, he saw his wife.
Clad in a rich wool surcoat of mustard yellow and wearing a deep blue cloak, she looked magnificent. He allowed himself a moment simply to gaze upon her because she really hadn’t spoken to him since that day she accused him of loving warfare more than he loved her. He’s wrestled with her statement for a full day until that morning when he decided to do something about it.
He’d gone to see Lady Catteshall because he knew she could help him. He’d been rather excited to return to Guildford and let Ellowyn in on his decision, but the longer he gazed at her, the more he began to realize that something was amiss. The baggage near the carriage was hers and she had absolutely no interest in making eye contact with him. Spurring his charger through the crowds, he roared up to the coach.
Ellowyn was hit by flying pebbles when Brandt’s steed came to a clumsy halt. Grunting with annoyance, she brushed a few flecks of dirty off her cloak as she turned towards the offender. Realizing it was her husband, she stiffened when their eyes met before swiftly turning away.
“What is all of this?” Brandt demanded as he dismounted his sweaty steed. When his wife kept her back turned to him, he grew irritated. “Ellowyn, I am addressing you. What is all of this?”
She turned to him, a look of defiance and stubbornness on her face. “I am returning to Erith as I said I would,” she told him coldly. “I will find my own escort so you do not have to trouble yourself.”
He just stared at her. Nearly two days of her surly, somber attitude and bouts with the silent treatment had his emotions surging. He was frustrated and he was angry. More than that, he was hurt. He’d never been hurt before. Reaching out, he snatched her by the hand.
“You are coming with me,” he growled.
Ellowyn immediately started to fight him. “Let me go,” she demanded, trying to pull away. “I am not going anywhere with you.”
Brandt didn’t want to hurt her; her injury was still paining her and he didn’t want to cause her any more agony, but he was genuinely furious. He swooped down on her and picked her up.
“This will end now,” he rumbled.
He carried Ellowyn, kicking and struggling, all the way up to the keep. She beat her hands against his plate armor, demanding he put her down, but he wouldn’t listen to her. By the time he got her into the keep, she had torn her surcoat in her struggles and her carefully braided hair was unraveling. He set her on her feet when they reached his solar.
Ellowyn twisted her way from his grip as he tried to put her down and ended up straining her injured torso. She hissed in pain, pressing a hand against the wound as she staggered away from him.
“What is the matter with you?” she demanded. “How dare you handle me like a common wench!”
He stood by the entry to make sure she couldn’t escape. “How dare you behave like one,” he fired back quietly. “You are the Duchess of Exeter. Your recent behavior does not suit that position.”
Ellowyn scowled. “I do not know what you mean,” she said. “You told me I could return home. I am doing that.”
He faced her, hands on hips, jaw ticking. “Wynny, I am not entirely sure how the mood between us has deteriorated so, but it will end now,” he said, struggling to calm. “I do not like it when you ignore me. I realize the past few days have been disruptive to say the least, but you are taking all of your frustration out on me. Is that fair?”
Ellowyn’s features relaxed somewhat as she considered the question. After a moment, she appeared to deflate. Her gaze lowered. Then, she turned away from him, hand resting gingerly on her injured torso.
“You are going to France,” she said with a shrug. “You said yourself that I should go back to Erith.”
“I
asked
you if you wanted to return to be with your mother and grandmother,” he said. “I never told you to return to Erith. Furthermore, while you have been stomping around like a petulant child and ignoring me at every turn, I have been busy making arrangements for my return to France, the plans of which now include you.”
It took her a moment for his words to sink in. When they did, she whirled to face him, eyes wide with astonishment.
“
Me
?” she gasped. “I am going with you?”
He put his hands on his hips. “I should just as well leave you here for all of the tantrums you have exhibited over the past few days.”
She could see that his irritation was real. His mood tempered her joy with uncertainty. “Then why did you decide to bring me?”
He lost some of his irritation. “Because… oh, hell, I suppose it is because your words the other day meant something to me,” he said. “You must understand that until recently, all I knew was war. It is in my blood. But somehow, someway, you are in my blood now, too. You have shown me a life I never knew existed, Wynny. You are my wife and you are the most important thing in the world to me. When I return to France, it is because I said I would. It is not because my heart is in it. That particular part of me seems to belong to you.”
All of Ellowyn’s hurt and anger evaporated and she smiled at his sweet confession. “I am sorry if it seemed as if I was being difficult,” she said softly. Then she shrugged awkwardly. “You said you were leaving and all I could think was that I would never see you again. Everything we have now, between us, would be gone forever. I started to think on my father’s words, of how I would always be second in your life behind Prince Edward, and I was deeply hurt by it. Mayhap… mayhap ignoring you was a way of saving my heart. It is so fragile where you are concerned.”
He sighed heavily, his eyes raking over her lovely face. “Being ignored by you for two days has hurt my heart deeply,” he said softly. “I wonder what you will do to make it up to me?”
It was an invitation and a peace offering. Ellowyn didn’t hesitate; she moved to him, putting her arms around his neck as he swallowed her into his enormous embrace. Feeling him in her arms, alive and vibrant, brought relief and joy. She shoved her face into the crook of his neck, smelling him and feeling the texture of his skin against hers. It was heavenly.
“I will do whatever you wish,” she whispered, squeezing him. “Thank you for taking me with you, Brandt. I swear I will be no trouble at all.”
He kissed her, hard, because he hadn’t kissed her in two days and he found he was fairly starving to taste her. His big hands stroked her face, her hair.
“I have travelled with you before and know what to expect from you,” he said. “But I went on an errand this morning to a neighbor, a Lady Catteshall. She is old and matronly but, as I remember from my younger days, she is a woman of tremendous grace and wisdom. I went to ask her what I should do in order to make your travels more comfortable and she was kind enough to provide me with two of her ladies.”
Ellowyn cocked her head. “Ladies?”
He nodded and released her from their embrace. “Lady Catteshall is well-known for schooling young women who have gone on to be fine ladies for countesses and duchesses and even royalty. Even when I was there, she had at least twelve or fifteen ladies with her. She provided me with two she feels would make good companions for you so you will not be entirely lonely.”
Ellowyn looked dubious. “Women I do not know?” she said, pursing her lips. “I do not believe that I need companions, Brandt. You will be my companion.”
He nodded. “I realize that, but there will be times when I will not be with you,” he said. “I will be away, fighting, and I want to make sure you have suitable companionship while I am away. Most titled women have ladies in waiting, and you shall be no different.”
She still looked doubtful. “Can I at least meet them?” she asked. “What if I do not like them? Can I send them away?”
He took her hand and led her towards the entry. “If you do not like them, I shall take you to Lady Catteshall and you can choose your own companions.”
It was enough to pacify her reluctance, at least until she could look the women over. He took her from the keep, holding her hand as they moved down the treacherous motte stairs which had recently had a rope hand-rail installed. The coach was still there, now with the gray team reattached and the baggage loaded inside. It was ready and waiting for the determined Lady de Russe.
Brennan was standing with the driver, watching Brandt and Ellowyn descend the stairs. He could tell by their body language that things were well between them once again. He met the pair at the bottom of the steps.
“Shall I arrange for an escort to Erith, my lord?” he asked Brandt.
Brandt cocked an eyebrow. “She is
not
going to Erith,” he said frankly. “Did you arrange for this carriage, St. Hèver ?”
Brennan opened his mouth to reply but Ellowyn cut him off. “I ordered the carriage,” she said. “Brennan did everything possible to discourage me from going and even refused to help me find an escort. In fact, he did everything he could to prevent me from leaving, the sly devil. He should be commended for being so loyal to you.”
Brandt eyed her. “I can only imagine how you verbally pummeled the man because he would not do your bidding.”
She turned her nose up at him, although she was smiling. “I did nothing of the sort,” she said. “Even if I did, he is too chivalrous to say otherwise.”
Brandt was still inclined to feel some jealousy over Brennan but it had been fading as of late. The more secure he felt in his relationship with Ellowyn, the more his jealousies seemed to fade. Still, he wasn’t entirely free of it. He nodded curtly to Ellowyn’s statement.
“Indeed,” he said, eyeing Brennan. “Get this damnable coach out of here.”
Fighting off a grin, Brennan did as he was told. As he whistled loudly between his teeth and ordered the carriage away, Brandt took Ellowyn by the hand and led her over towards the great hall.
It was very warm inside the hall, almost too warm on the temperate day. A fire sputtered in the enormous hearth and the two dogs that had been up in the keep had somehow made their way down to the hall, sleeping near the fire. Ellowyn immediately spied Dylan at one of the tables with two young women, seated and with cups before them. Gilbert, the old servant, was filling the cups with rich red wine. Brandt led Ellowyn to the table that was strewn with a collection of dried fruits, cheese, and bread.
“This is my wife, the Lady Ellowyn de Nerra de Russe, Duchess of Exeter,” Brandt introduced Ellowyn to the women. “Wynny, this is the Lady Annabeth du Gare and the Lady Bridget St. John.”
He indicated the lush brunette first and the pale redhead second. Both women jumped to their feet at the introduction and very gracefully curtsied.
“My lady,” the greeted Ellowyn in unison.
Ellowyn was polite as she acknowledged them. “My husband just told me I am to have ladies accompany me to France,” she said. “That being the case, mayhap we should become acquainted.”
Lady Annabeth was petite, pretty, and big-breasted. She was also very young. She smiled at Ellowyn as she moved down the bench.
“Will you sit, Lady de Russe?” she said, indicating the open spot next to her.
Ellowyn took the offered seat. When Brandt moved to sit as well, she stopped him. “Nay, husband,” she told him rather pointedly. “I will sit with the ladies alone for now. I am sure you have other duties to attend to and women talk would not interest you.”
Brandt wriggled his eyebrows and grabbed Dylan by the arm, pulling the man with him. “As you wish, my lady,” he said. “I will station a soldier outside the entry should you require anything.”
“Thank you,” Ellowyn said, smiling sweetly.
Brandt’s lips twitched with a smile as he pulled Dylan with him from the hall, basically being thrown out by his wife. But he understood; she wanted to speak with the women alone and make her own determination as to whether or not she thought they were suitable companions. As he reached the hall entry, Brennan, Stefan and Alex were standing right outside the door. Brandt nearly plowed into them.