CHAPTER THREE
S he’d never been so sick.
After three weeks of travel from Woodstock, one of those weeks on land and two at sea because of the prevailing winds while traveling north, Christelle had to admit that she was more than relieved to see the shores of East Yorkshire and, more particularly, of the mouth of the Humber as it opened up into the North Sea.
If she never saw a wave, gull, or fish ever again, she would be quite happy.
Fish and onions .
That was all the captain of their cog fed them, morning and night. At least for the nooning meal they had a chance of eating bread and cheese that they’d brought along in their provisions, but otherwise, the captain and his men were catching big fish off the sides of the vessel, throwing them into an iron pot with onions that they brought up from the hold, and they’d boil them or steam them or fry them and then distribute the fish and onions among the crew and passengers.
The mere smell had Christelle upheaving.
This morning was no different. They had traveled by hugging the eastern coast of England, travel made very slow because the headwinds were coming down from the north. The smell of fish and onions lay on the deck of the boat—Christelle would swear that—made worse by the fact that the fog had rolled in and that seemed to keep the greasy smell trapped.
So, as she did every morning, she made sure Phillipa was well tended before making her way up to the railing to hang over the side and try to breathe in the salt air to keep from vomiting. She’d tried to hide her condition, of course, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed by either Leonidas or Kenneth, who would sit with Phillipa when Christelle was up on deck. Christelle was strong and she’d muscled through some genuine sickness and weakness, but in moments like this, she simply couldn’t stand it any longer and went to gulp down fresh air.
That was where Leonidas found her.
“We’ll be entering the mouth of the river within the hour,” he said, coming up behind her. “You will be off this boat before the nooning hour.”
Christelle heard his voice, standing tall and trying desperately to pretend nothing was amiss. Not a thing. But when she turned to face him, her face was pale, maybe even a little green, and over the past three weeks, she’d lost a bit of weight because she couldn’t keep anything down. Her face was drawn and there were rings around her eyes. She couldn’t see it, but Leonidas could. They all could.
Still, she wasn’t going to admit it.
“Good,” she said. “For Phillipa’s sake, I am glad. We have been caged on this vessel long enough.”
Leonidas simply nodded, coming up to stand next to her on the rail. He was looking at the mouth of the Humber to the north. The way the fog was sitting, it was as if it were a blanket in the sky, hanging over the land. The land itself was clear, but the sky wasn’t. Because Leonidas was looking at the distant shores, Christelle turned to look also. The boat hit a particularly rolling wave and she held on as hard as she could, swallowing the bile that rose in her throat.
Leonidas could see her white-knuckled grip on the rail.
“I’ve brought you something,” he said after a moment. “I know this journey has not been easy for you, so I brought something to ease your stomach.”
Christelle stiffened. “Why should I need something to ease my stomach?”
He leaned into her and lowered his voice. “I do not know if you are aware of this, but some people become ill whilst on seagoing vessels,” he murmured. “It can happen to anyone and it is most assuredly nothing to be ashamed of, but some people might be embarrassed by it. Not that you would be. But some people might.”
She was looking at him, fully prepared to refute everything he said and, if the mood struck her, become angry with him, but she couldn’t seem to manage it. He knew she had been ill. The whole damn boat probably knew it. She’d be a fool to deny it.
“I know it’s obvious,” she muttered, bracing herself on the rail. “I’ve never been on a boat this long before. The most I’ve ever traveled by such a conveyance has been two or three days at most. And the seas were calm. It was nothing like this.”
He looked at her, seeing her eyes filling with tears. She was exhausted and probably starving because she hadn’t been able to eat anything. He felt a good deal of sympathy for her, in truth, so he fought off a smile as he put his big arm around her shoulders and produced the small earthenware phial he’d brought along. She almost reacted violently to his arm around her shoulders until he put the phial in front of her face.
“Here,” he said, putting it under her nose. “The captain keeps this as a delicacy, but he says it will help your stomach. Eat one.”
She wasn’t so sure. Her hands came up and she took the phial from him, sniffing at the contents. It looked like strips of leather, long and thin, but there was a coating on them.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Ginger cooked in honey,” he said. “Very sweet and quite delicious.”
“Did you try one?”
“I did. And I am not dead, so it will not kill you.”
Timidly, she pulled forth a strip. The boat hit a big wave and she would have staggered had Leonidas not been holding on to her. He was big and strong and warm and he completely threw her off guard, which she didn’t like. She yanked herself away from him.
“I do not want you to touch me,” she said, frowning. “You will never do that again.”
He shook his head at her stubbornness. “I did it to give you some comfort, you silly wench,” he said. “You looked as if you needed for someone to be kind to you.”
“Not you,” she said, handing back the phial with the ginger. “Take it back. I do not want it.”
He rolled his eyes. “Why?” he said. “Because I brought it?”
“Because I don’t need your help. I don’t want it.”
“You make it difficult to be kind to you.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
The mirth in his eyes faded. “Someday you are going to regret being such a stubborn goose,” he said. “No one is trying to hurt you or insult you. You have been sick the entire time we’ve been on this boat and I am quite sure you’ve hardly eaten enough to keep a bird alive, so I went out of my way to find something to soothe you. You do not have to thank me, but you also do not have to be rude. If you want this to be the last kindness I ever show you, that can be arranged.”
He started to turn away, but as he did so, the tears in her eyes spilled over and she lowered her head. He was almost all the way turned around, preparing to go in the other direction, when she broke down in sobs.
“I am sorry,” she murmured. “I’m… I’m so tired. I cannot keep anything down, but I’m hungry. I cannot even drink because it comes back up again. I’ve never felt so terrible in my entire life.”
He couldn’t very well walk away from her now. With a sigh of regret, he went to her, put his arm around her again, and began leading her over to some wooden benches that were built around the hole that brought light and air into the ship decks below. He set her down, pulled out a piece of the candied ginger, and put it against her lips.
“Chew it,” he said in a soft, low purr. “That’s a good lass. Chew it slowly. Let it trickle into your stomach. Do that until we dock and as soon as we are on land, I will find you something to eat, I promise.”
She was still weeping, but at least she was chewing on the ginger, which was mild and delicious and sweet.
“I am sincerely sorry to have been so rude,” she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her dirty hand, leaving streaks across her face. “I did not mean it.”
“I know.”
“Will you do something for me?”
“If I can.”
“Will you kill that captain if he cooks fish and onions again?”
Leonidas started to laugh, revealing those big canines. “Do you really want me to?”
“I do. I swear, I do.”
He shrugged. “Very well,” he said. “But let me confiscate all of his sweet ginger first and then I will kill him. Fair enough?”
She nodded, managing to swallow the ginger and picking up another piece. “That is fair,” she said, knowing that neither one of them were really serious about a murder. “This is quite good. It’s spicy.”
“If you cannot eat it, at least suck on it. That should help.”
She nodded, timidly chewing a corner. “Boats do not make you ill?”
He shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “They never have. I think I might have made a good pirate.”
“Did you ever consider it?”
“Of course I did, but my mother would not let me.”
He said it with some humor, causing Christelle to smile weakly. “You are a good son to listen to your mother,” she said. But her gaze moved beyond him, to the approaching shore, and she gestured toward it. “Once we stop at Hull, how long will it take to reach Ashendon?”
“Less than an hour,” he said, looking over his shoulder at the looming land. “My castle sits on a rise overlooking the town. We will see it once we get upriver.”
“Do you miss it?”
He looked in the direction of the land, which was looming closer now. “I do,” he said. “It is mine. The only property I’ve ever had that belongs to me, so I do miss it.”
“Is it big?”
“Quite big.”
“You must have a big army.”
He nodded as he turned around to look at her. “Big enough,” he said. “Mostly de Cottingham troops, which I inherited when I married the earl’s widow. But my brother and a couple of cousins are in command, with some de Wolfe men mixed in with the de Cottingham men, so the army is under control.”
She choked down the piece she’d been chewing on and pulled forth another. “You have more than one brother, do you not?”
“I have four,” Leonidas said. “Dayne is one of my younger brother. You will get to meet him.”
“And your cousins?”
He flashed a grin. “I have many,” he said. “My parents had nine children and each of them has had many children, so I literally have dozens of cousins, both male and female. The cousins who serve at Ashendon are Lesander de Norville, son of my Aunt Evelyn and Uncle Hector, and Talan de Shera, son of my Aunt Penelope and her husband, the Earl of Coventry. Talan is a Welsh princeling, in fact.”
Christelle seemed to show some interest in that. “Truly?” she said. “How is that possible?”
“Because his father is the hereditary King of Anglesey,” he said. “Bhrodi’s mother was a Welsh princess and his father was English. My grandfather, William de Wolfe, married Penelope to Bhrodi many years ago to secure peace. Fortunately for them, it turned out to be a love match.”
He was talking quite a bit about himself, Christelle noticed, more than he’d spoken about himself since she’d known him. He kept turning to look at the approaching mouth of the Humber, and she was coming to think that he was in a good mood because he was returning home. He was friendlier than she’d ever seen him.
And she had to admit that the offering of the ginger was quite kind.
That handsome knight seemed to be getting more handsome.
“You seem close to your family,” she said. “That must be nice.”
He folded his big arms across his chest, his attention moving between her and the approaching shoreline. “We are a very big family and quite devoted to one another,” he said. “Not simply out of duty, but because we actually like one another. Well, mostly. My cousins, Atreus and Hermes, can be quite annoying, but they’re good at heart. And my Uncle Tommy can be loud and spoiled. He’s the youngest of my father’s brothers, you know. It seems strange to say that, since they’re all quite elderly.”
She finished the ginger and decided she’d had enough. Standing up, she extended the phial back to Leonidas.
“You were right,” she said. “My stomach does feel a little better, thank you.”
He wouldn’t take it. “Keep it,” he said. “You may need it when we get on land.”
She frowned. “Why is that?”
He lifted his eyebrows in a way that gave her some apprehension. “You’ll see.”
Unfortunately, she did.
*
“She cannot walk, Leo,” Kenneth said. “She staggers around like she has been on a drinking binge and I’m leery to put her on a horse because her balance is so off.”
As Leonidas had predicted, Christelle’s experience on the boat got worse when she was on land. The ground was rocking around as if she were still on the boat, and as Leonidas and Kenneth waited for their horses to be brought out of the hold, Phillipa and Christelle sat over near the banks of the river because neither one of them were feeling very well. Phillipa had been a little ill during the trip as well, but not nearly what Christelle had been. Now, they were sitting on the ground, eating strips of ginger and trying not to get sick.
“See if Phillipa can ride,” Leonidas said. “If she can, well and good, but take Christelle with you on your horse. She’ll need something to hold on to.”
But Kenneth shook his head. “My horse does not appreciate more than one rider,” he said. “He’ll try to buck. You must take her with you.”
Leonidas grunted in displeasure, but he nodded. The truth was that he didn’t want to take Christelle because he didn’t want her that close to him. Or perhaps he did. He’d just spent three weeks traveling with the woman, watching every move she made, listening to her speak, watching her become ill and wanting to do something to help her until he was bristling with frustration. The more time he spent with her, the more he transitioned from being mildly attracted to her to full-blown interest.
But he didn’t want to be.
A romantic entanglement wasn’t part of his plan.
A plan that included keeping a young queen alive until something could be done about Mortimer. A plan that included living at Ashendon, permanently, and establishing himself as one of the more powerful warlords in England. He was a de Wolfe, after all, and that kind of thing was expected, most certainly in Northumberland, but he was down in East Yorkshire. He was far from his family’s empire.
His plans included forging an empire of his own.
But the queen’s personal guard didn’t figure into any of it. He’d been nice to her about the ginger. He’d done his part. But now, he was going to have to hold that firm, young body next to his on the back of a horse and try to pretend that he didn’t care.
I don’t care.
I don’t care!
The horses were brought to the deck of the ship at that point and Kenneth broke away from him, heading over to collect his beast. Leonidas followed, noting that his big black-and-white spotted warhorse was giving the ship’s crew some trouble. He leapt up onto the deck and took the horse from the frightened crewman, coaxing it to jump over the side and into about two feet of water. The horse, young and strong, hurled itself off the boat and into the water, splashing about as Leonidas led up onto the shore. Kenneth was right behind them with his big gray steed.
With the horses on the shore, the process of saddling them up commenced. With each knight attending his own horse, the animals were wiped and brushed down before the saddle blanket and saddle went on. Soon enough, the animals were completely prepared and ready to move out, and as Kenneth held on to them, Leonidas went down to the river’s edge where the women were sitting.
“Your grace?” he said to Phillipa. “We are ready to continue. It will be a short ride into town and to the castle.”
Wearily, Phillipa stood up. “Thank you, Leo,” she said. “I am eager to be done with travel and I believe Christy is, as well.”
Christy.
That was what Phillipa called Christelle. Leonidas had heard it before, many times, but it never seemed to suit her. Christelle was strong and bold and beautiful, and the nickname implied something weak and fragile to him. But the moment she looked up at him from her seated position, he could see how bad she truly felt.
He could see vulnerability in her eyes.
“And you,” he said. “The castle is a short ride away and then you can rest. I promised I would find you food when we arrived and I shall, but first, we must get you to the castle.”
With effort, Christelle stood up. Then she teetered. Both Phillipa and Leonidas reached out to steady her, assistance she shrugged off. Politely in Phillipa’s case, not-so-politely in Leonidas’.
“I can walk,” she said.
Leonidas watched her as she tried to take a few straight steps. “Unfortunately, my lady, you are experiencing what many people experience when they have been on a boat for some time,” he said. “It will go away, eventually, but please let me take you on my horse to the castle. It will be safer for you that way.”
Christelle came to an unsteady halt, preparing to retort, but Phillipa stepped in.
“Please, Christy,” she said softly. “I need to rest on something that is not rolling like a leaf in the wind, so the sooner we can make it to the castle, the better for me. Please?”
“It will be a short ride to the castle, I promise,” Leonidas said, holding down a hand to her and encouraging her to take it. “I will take you and the queen to the most comfortable room in the keep, where you may both rest while I ensure a meal is prepared for you. You’ll feel better soon, my lady. Please trust me.”
She was reluctant to take his hand. He could see it. But she was more reluctant to fall over and make a fool of herself, so she took his hand and he pulled her carefully to her feet. She teetered a little, but managed to steady herself. Leonidas tucked Phillipa’s hand into the crook of his elbow before doing the same with Christelle, who fought him on it at first. But then she tried to walk on her own and thought better of it. Sheepishly, she held on to him.
Leonidas led them over to Kenneth.
“Your grace,” Kenneth said, reaching out to take Phillipa. “You may ride with me.”
Phillipa went with him, but Leonidas’ brow furrowed with concern. “You said your horse does not like a passenger,” he said. “You cannot transport the queen on a disagreeable mount.”
Kenneth didn’t look at him as he lifted the small queen onto his saddle. “I lied,” he said. “You seem better with the shield maiden over there, so you can take her. We need to get them into the safety of the castle.”
With that, he heaved himself onto the saddle as Leonidas watched in disbelief, then outrage. Grumbling to himself, he turned for his horse and mounted first. Then he extended a hand to Christelle.
“Come, my lady,” he said quietly. “Ashendon awaits.”
With a deep breath, Christelle took his hand, and he easily pulled her on behind him. His horse fidgeted a little, so she was forced to throw her arms around his torso to steady herself as Leonidas gently spurred his steed forward. Alongside Kenneth, they made their way up the main road.
As Leonidas had told her, the castle was indeed visible from the inlet. Ashendon Castle sat on a rise next to the River Hull, dominating the city around it. Make no mistake, Hull was indeed a city and not the dirty little village that Christelle had expected.
Far from it.
They’d happened to come into town as the fishermen were pulling in their hauls, and the fish market alone was enormous. The main street of the town was wide and muddy, with big gutters on either side that drained back to the river. But the smell was something Christelle would never forget—it reeked of fish. She was having a difficult enough time on the swaying back of a horse without the added delight of a heavily fishy smell. Exhausted, and near tears again because she felt like retching, she buried her face in Leonidas’ back.
There was more comfort there than she wanted to admit.
The man was wearing a mail coat, but fortunately, he had a de Wolfe tunic over it, so her face was buried in the fabric. It smelled a little stale, as wool always did, but it was better than the fish smell. Arms wrapped tightly around his torso so she wouldn’t fall off, Christelle closed her eyes and prayed their short journey to the castle would end soon.
She was halfway through her prayers when she dozed off.
Leonidas felt her go limp. It was a gradual sort of limpness, starting with her leaning heavily against his back, and then her arms went slack. He thought she might actually fall off the horse, so he clasped her hands against his belly as they made their way through the town and up the rise to the castle. When their ship had docked on the shore, he’d sent a messenger up to the castle to announce his arrival, so the gatehouse was open and men were spilling forth from inside. A couple of them waved to him. But with Christelle exhaustedly slumped against him, he didn’t dare spare a hand to wave back.
But he mostly didn’t care.
Here he was, in the middle of the town he presided over, with dozens of villagers coming out to greet him as he and Kenneth rode toward the castle, but all he could think about was the woman collapsed against his back. Her arms around his torso made his heart race. It had been a very long time since he’d had a woman this close to him.
Thoughts of Christelle shifted to thoughts of Juliette. Juliette Paignton de Cottingham de Wolfe, to be clear. The woman his father forced him to marry, but he couldn’t have picked a nicer woman to bind him to. Juliette had been red-haired, short, a little round in the hips and bum, but he didn’t care. She was absolutely delightful, like a spark, so bright and warm that it hadn’t taken him long to realize he liked her. She had a sense of humor that made him laugh. She was always making him laugh. The truth was that he’d been fond of her.
And then she was gone.
The spark had been doused, and even now, a couple of years later, he was still struggling with that to a certain degree. It still made him sad to think about it, but more than that, it made him guilty. Horribly guilty. Juliette—little Juliette—had been pregnant with a very big baby that she had delighted in. A child she had been convinced was a girl, and she already had a name —Seraphina. Juliette had given birth twice, including to a set of twins, and she’d done so easily, according to her. But the day came for Seraphina’s birth and Leonidas’ world fell apart.
Three days of trying to bring forth a baby that refused to be born. Three days of waiting, three days of agony. Juliette developed a fever on the second day, and by the third day, her body began to shut down. Leonidas was forced to sit by and watch her suffer until he finally demanded they cut the child out of her, which the physic did, but by that time it was too late. Juliette’s body surrendered to the fever, and to childbirth, and the baby was already dead. No one knew how long it had been dead, but she was dead and perfect, and Leonidas had sat there with the child in his arms, weeping silent tears for his red-headed daughter. She was buried in her mother’s arms, wrapped in a silken shroud that Leonidas’ parents had supplied.
That was a time he didn’t like to think about, but clutching Christelle against him brought it all back.
The mere touch of human to human.
It had been a long time for him, indeed.
Lost to his morose thoughts, he didn’t even realize when they reached the drawbridge leading to the castle. He’d been staring at the castle the entire time, fighting off thoughts of Juliette, and he nearly fell off his horse when he thought she was rushing out of the gatehouse toward him.
It took him a moment to realize it was his eldest stepdaughter.
“Leo!” she squealed, waving her hands wildly. “You’ve come home!”
Leonidas smiled weakly at the sight of Catherine de Cottingham, who had grown in the year he’d been away. She’d grown up and filled out, and now looked shockingly like her mother.
“Who is this glorious young woman?” he boomed, feeling Christelle jolt against him at the sound of his voice. “Can this possibly be Lady Catherine?”
Catherine giggled. She had a bright smile, sparkling brown eyes, and a round face that positively glowed. “Of course it is me!” she said happily. “Who else would it be?”
Leonidas’ smile grew. “A fae princess, mayhap?” he said. “Surely the most beautiful, grown-up lady in all the land.”
Catherine puffed up proudly. “I’ve grown while you were away.”
Against him, Leonidas could feel Christelle moving. She loosened her grip on him and sat up, but he kept hold of one of her arms because she seemed to be swaying around.
“That is an understatement,” he said as Catherine came up and put her hand on his leg as she walked beside him. “Look how lovely you are. How many young men must I chase away these days? And do not lie to me because Uncle Dayne will tell me the truth. Hundreds? Thousands?”
Catherine laughed in delight, noticing that there was someone on the horse behind Leonidas for the first time. Her smile faded as she focused on Christelle, who was awake if a bit groggy.
“Greetings,” Catherine said politely. “Who are you?”
“Catie.” Leonidas captured Catherine’s attention before Christelle could answer. “Where are Gabriel and Georgiana? Bring them to me at once, please.”
Catherine nodded, pleased to do his bidding, but her gaze lingered on Christelle before she darted off. Both Leonidas and Christelle watched her go.
“Who is that?” Christelle asked.
“My daughter,” he said without hesitation. “My wife’s daughter, actually. There are two more children.”
Christelle still had her eye on the yellow dress as it disappeared into the gatehouse. “She’s lovely,” she said. “I asked you if you had children and you did not answer me.”
“Does it matter?” he said. “I have three, all children of the former Earl of Hull and his wife, whom I married. They are delightful children and you will treat them with all due respect, please.”
Christelle couldn’t tell if he was offended by her statement or if he simply didn’t want to discuss his children with her, but he seemed short about it.
“Of course I will,” she said. “I would not treat them any other way, my lord.”
“Thank you.”
“Leo!” A knight with blond hair and a big build was waving at them as they crossed through the gatehouse. “It’s about time you have returned, brother. I was about to steal your castle out from under you.”
Leonidas snorted at his youngest brother, Dayne de Wolfe, one of the rare de Wolfes who was blond and fair. “Is that so?” he said, reining his horse to a halt in the bailey and sliding off. “You always were incorrigible. Mother should have drowned you at birth, you little whelp.”
Dayne grinned broadly in a gesture highly reminiscent of his maternal grandfather, Paris de Norville, and threw his arms around his big brother. “I am her favorite, so she would not do such a thing,” he said, kissing Leonidas loudly on the cheek before releasing him. “Welcome home. It is good to see you.”
Leonidas patted the man on the cheek. “And you,” he said. “Have you been well?”
Dayne’s smile turned soft. “My dear eldest brother,” he said. “Always concerned for your family. Even me. I have been very well, thank you for asking.”
“Good,” Leonidas said. “Then gather the knights and meet me in the solar. There is much to tell.”
Dayne nodded. “Immediately, Leo,” he said, but he noticed the women now being helped from the horses. His expression turned to one of approval. “You brought companionship with you? Well done, Leo.”
Leonidas cast him a long look. “I brought Queen Phillipa and her lady,” he muttered. “Don’t be stupid. And do as I say. Go .”
Dayne was off to summon the others while Leonidas went to take hold of Christelle and a servant led his horse away. Kenneth had charge of Phillipa, who was looking weak and pale, enough so that Leonidas was concerned.
“Come,” he said, forcibly tucking Christelle’s hand into the crook of his elbow. “It is time to take you to that restful place I promised you.”
Christelle didn’t say a word. She was exhausted, and trying to walk in a straight line took all of her concentration. But she paused, turning to Phillipa to make sure the young queen was moving well enough, even taking the woman by the arm even though she herself was feeling so poorly. In the process she let go of Leonidas, who simply went toward the keep.
But something at the top of the steps leading into the keep stopped him.
A severe-looking woman in dark robes stood there with two small children. Twins Gabriel and Georgiana de Cottingham stood side by side, now around six years of age, as they faced their stepfather. They weren’t nearly as happy to see him as Catherine had been, and Leonidas paused at the bottom of the steps, motioning for everyone to come down and greet him.
The woman led the children down in a line, like ducklings following their mother.
“Lord Hull,” the woman greeted him. “Surely you remember me. I am Lady Maria de Santos. You left me in charge of your children.”
Leonidas nodded, hardly looking at her. He was more interested in the little ones in front of him. “They are looking well enough,” he said. Then he addressed the pair. “Greetings, Gabriel and Georgiana. It is good to see you again.”
The children were looking up at him with curiosity but also with what he thought might be fear. They were little tykes with Juliette’s red hair, although Gabriel’s was a little bushy and Georgiana’s was positively wild, swept back with a ribbon around her head. Before they could answer him, however, Phillipa stepped forward, bending over to get a better look at the children.
She’d always been drawn to children, and given that she was pregnant, that mothering instinct had only intensified. Two little children right in front of her had her interest and her concern, so she smiled sweetly at the pair as she waved her fingers in greeting.
“I am so pleased to see you, little angels,” she said. “How old are you?”
The children were stiff, with arms straight down by their sides. They seemed almost wooden the way they were standing, and neither one answered until Leonidas spoke in a low tone.
“Answer her,” he said. “How old are you?”
The children looked at him, startled by the command, before looking to Lady Maria, who nodded her head shortly. That gesture evidently allowed Gabriel to reply.
“We have seen six summers,” he said.
Phillipa smiled, reaching out in an attempt to gently cup Gabriel’s chin, but Lady Maria barked at her.
“Do not touch him,” she snapped, swatting Phillipa’s hand away. “The children are not to be touched.”
Leonidas looked at the woman, shocked and outraged, but he didn’t move fast enough. Suddenly, Christelle was standing between him and the tightly wimpled woman, and before Leonidas could stop her, she reached out and grabbed Lady Maria by the throat, shoving her away from Phillipa.
“You have brought death upon yourself, woman,” she hissed, hand moving to the dagger she always kept at her side. “Your strike against the queen shall not be tolerated.”
Lady Maria was older, but she was wiry and evidently strong. She began resisting Christelle, reaching out clawed hands that caught Christelle on the chin, scratching her. Christelle shoved the woman back, so hard that she fell to the ground, and her dagger was unsheathed. With the children screaming at the startling confrontation—including Catherine, who had just emerged from the keep—Christelle moved in for the kill as Leonidas came up behind her and grabbed her wrist before she could lower it.
“Nay, lady,” he muttered in her ear. “Not in front of the children. Lower your weapon. That is not a request.”
Christelle was furious, but she understood the command. As she reluctantly lowered the dagger with Leonidas still holding her wrist, Lady Maria scrambled to her feet and prepared to run, but Leonidas stopped her.
“Halt, woman,” he boomed. “Take another step and I will let Lady Christelle have her way with you. Do not move if you value your life.”
By now, the commotion had drawn the attention of a few of the men near the keep, including two knights heading in that direction. Dayne was bringing Sir Talan de Shera with him, and when they saw the skirmish, Dayne quickly made his way to his brother.
“A word, Leo,” he muttered. “Now, please.”
Leonidas didn’t want to release Christelle because he knew what she was capable of, but he had little choice. He couldn’t restrain her forever, though he considered her actions completely justified.
Still, it wouldn’t do to have a murder committed his first few minutes at Ashendon.
“Go back with the queen,” he said quietly. “Go back and stay there. Please.”
Glaring daggers at Lady Maria, Christelle did as she was told. Leonidas watched her stagger her way back to Phillipa before turning to Dayne.
“What is it?” he asked impatiently.
By this time, Talan had joined Dayne, and he smiled at his cousin, putting a hand on the man’s arm in greeting. Leonidas acknowledged him, but barely. He was more interested in what his brother had to say.
“Well?” he demanded. “Speak, Dayne.”
Dayne complied. “We were going to wait to tell you, but it seems you have discovered our problem,” he said quietly. “Lady Maria. She must be sent away, Leo. She has done terrible things to the children.”
Leonidas frowned. “What things?”
Dayne sighed sharply. “Where to start?” he said, eyeing the woman who was standing with her back to them, quivering. “She insists the children call her ‘mother.’ She bathes them once a week in icy water from the river. She makes them sit for hours on end, and if they move, she beats them. She will not let anyone speak to them or be kind to them. Shall I go on?”
Leonidas was looking at him in horror. “ All of them?”
Dayne shook his head. “We’ve managed to save Catherine from her,” he said. “She is too old to be dictated to so severely, but the little ones… I fear she may have damaged them. We could not dismiss her, you understand, because you engaged her. It was not our right. But please, brother… send her away now. Save your children.”
Still scowling, Leonidas let his gaze linger on his brother for a moment before turning to Lady Maria in disbelief. “Lady Maria,” he said. “Come here.”
She turned toward him and stiffly walked in his direction, all the while keeping her eyes on the ground.
“Lord Hull,” she said. “Please forgive me for my actions toward the queen. I did not realize who she was. I beg for mercy, my lord.”
“Shut your lips,” Leonidas snapped quietly. “I will do the talking. Do you understand?”
“Aye, my lord.”
Leonidas pointed to the keep. “Go inside,” he said. “Go into the solar and wait for me there. If you deviate from this order in any way, my punishment shall be severe.”
“Aye, my lord.”
Trembling, the woman gathered her skirts and quickly headed toward the keep. When the two little tots tried to follow, she waved them off and kept going. That had Catherine coming off the stairs, unable to make eye contact with the woman as she passed by. As Lady Maria entered the keep, Catherine dropped to her knees beside the children and pulled them into her arms.
Leonidas could see that they were weeping, still.
Already, he could see that much had gone on in his absence.
“I will settle the situation with Lady Maria, but you will be there when I do,” he said to his brother. “You and Talan and Zander go to the solar and remain there until I come. I must settle the queen first.”
The mention of royalty had Dayne and Talan looking over at the small woman with the reddish-blonde hair, wrapped up in an elaborate, if messy, braid. The woman who had defended her was standing close by, watching everything around her, including the knights, with great suspicion.
“That is truly Phillipa?” Dayne said quietly, awe in his tone.
“It is,” Leonidas said.
“Who is the woman who protected her?”
“Her personal guard,” Leonidas said. “And watch yourself with her. She is Blackchurch trained and tolerates no nonsense.”
The knights looked at him in shock. “Blackchurch?” they said. “ Her? ”
“Her,” Leonidas confirmed. “Her name is Christelle de Lorrain, from the House of Lorrain, and if you annoy the woman, you take your life in your hands. Understood?”
The knights nodded to varying degrees.
“Good,” Leonidas said. “Now, go to the solar and I will meet you there and explain everything.”
Dayne and Talan did. That left Leonidas alone as he headed over where Christelle and Phillipa and Kenneth were standing. When their attention turned to him, he swept his arm in the direction of the keep.
“If you please, your grace,” he said.
The group headed into the structure without further delay.