WolfeBite (De Wolfe Pack Generations #10)

Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

Ashendon Castle

“T his is a terrible situation for all of us, Leo,” Phillipa said softly. “But I agree with you. We must bury Georgiana sooner rather than later. I freely admit that I shall miss her.”

Standing in the entry of the keep, cool and dark and quiet, Leonidas and Phillipa faced one another. Phillipa had just come in from a walk outside with Gabriel, who wasn’t faring well these days. He missed his sister deeply. The child had run back outside, leaving Leonidas and Phillipa in a sad little group.

But, then again, everything at Ashendon was sad these days.

“I will miss her also,” Leonidas said, his heart heavy. “But I wanted to thank you for taking charge of her, for ensuring she was washed and prepared. You should not have to be this brave, your grace, but I am grateful. I am not sure how much help Catie has been to you.”

Even as he said those last few words, they both knew the answer. Catherine had been a mess since the moment she realized her sister had drowned, nearly useless in every way. Being young and emotional, and having just suffered the loss of her mother two years earlier, she was overwrought with anguish.

“She is devastated,” Phillipa said gently. “She feels personally responsible. She was holding Georgiana’s skirt when the child slipped in.”

Leonidas shook his head. “She is not responsible,” he said. “No one is. It was simply an accident.”

Phillipa couldn’t disagree. “I know,” she said. “But it is not only Catherine who feels that way. Christelle does, too. She tried so hard to save her.”

Leonidas nodded with sorrow. “She did, indeed,” he said. “I thought she was going to drown, too. But there was nothing more she could do.”

Phillipa was genuinely concerned. “For someone who strives for perfection as Christelle does, I do not think she knows how to accept defeat,” she said. “She has the mindset of a knight, you know. She is taking this very hard.”

“I am aware.”

“What can we do to help her?”

Leonidas wasn’t sure. It had been two days since the death of Georgiana, and everyone was taking it hard. Even the soldiers seemed to be saddened by the little girl who had been great entertainment at the evening meals with her pet chicken. In fact, Gabriel had taken over carrying the chicken around, talking to it as if he were speaking to his sister. On the night of Georgiana’s death, he’d spent hours sitting next to her as she lay upon her bed, telling her how angry he was that she wouldn’t awaken for him.

That day, and night, had been something of out of a bad dream. Leonidas had delivered Georgiana to Phillipa, who had stoically taken the child and proceeded to remove her wet clothing, wash her, and then put on a clean frock. Phillipa had even washed and braided Georgiana’s hair, and between her and Christelle, they managed to properly prepare the little girl as Catherine stood by and sobbed. She’d tried to help, but she was so distraught that Phillipa had simply encouraged her to sit down and rest while she and Christelle did all of the work.

Two days later, Catherine was still distraught.

So was Leonidas, but he was better at controlling himself. Once the shock had worn off, he’d made the decision to bury the little girl with her mother. He didn’t see any reason to have a coffin built for such a little child and he knew that Juliette would have preferred to have her daughter buried with her. When he told Catherine of his decision, she seemed to agree with it, although he really couldn’t tell with all of the crying going on. As the days went on, she didn’t seem to be able to control her emotions any better and had spent both nights sleeping next to her sister’s corpse. That concerned Leonidas, but Phillipa begged him to be patient. Everyone grieved differently, she had said.

Catherine was simply grieving in her own way.

Therefore, he had gone about his duties, and that included speaking with the priests at Hull Minster, the enormous cathedral down by the waterfront where Juliette was buried. Generations of de Cottinghams were buried there, in fact, so Georgiana would be in good company. Leonidas had made arrangements to bury the child after mass on market day, which was two days away. He hoped that Catherine would be better able to reconcile her grief in that time.

Or, at the very least, stop weeping hysterically every day.

“To be honest, I am not certain what we can do to help Catherine,” he said belatedly to Phillipa’s question. “This situation is as shocking for me as it is for her, and as terrible for me as it is for her. I lost my wife and daughter in childbirth. Now, one of Juliette’s remaining daughters is gone. I feel like a failure for not having protected these women— my women—so I am still struggling with this, too.”

Phillipa was immediately sympathetic. “I know,” she said. “I am very sorry. I did not mean to sound unfeeling. You have endured something terrible, Leo. Please tell me if there is something more I can do to help.”

He smiled weakly. “You have done more than enough, your grace,” he said. “If such a thing had to happen, then I am glad you are here to help. You have helped me shoulder a great burden.”

Phillipa smiled in return, but quickly, her eyes filled with tears and she lowered her head. “Forgive me,” she said. “I was fond of Georgiana and I have moments when I cannot help the sadness. I do not mean to trouble you with it.”

Reaching out, he took her small hand and squeezed it. “To know that she made a mark upon you means that she will never be forgotten,” he said quietly. “Mayhap you will tell your children of the little girl you once knew who slept with her pet chicken.”

Phillipa broke down into soft laughter, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I will not tell them about the chicken for fear they will want one, too,” she said, putting her hand on her gently swollen belly. “But the short time I have spent with Georgiana and Gabriel helps me understand what it means to raise children. They have helped me a great deal.”

“Good,” Leonidas said, a glimmer in his eye. “Now you can focus your attention on Gabriel. He’s been carrying around the chicken, just like his sister did.”

Phillipa shrugged. “He feels closer to her when he does,” she said. “It helps him deal with the loss.”

Leonidas nodded as he looked up to the keep. “I should spend more time with him,” he said. “Catherine needs time to recover. The least I can do is shoulder the responsibility for Gabriel. And… and he is my son. My wife’s son, but mine nonetheless. He has lost his mother and father and sister all in a short amount of time. I am sure he is feeling rather lost.”

“I think it would be good for him to spend time with you,” Phillipa said. Then she cocked her head as she gazed at him. “You are a good man, Leo. Most men would not show concern for another man’s son.”

“He was entrusted to me by marriage. I would not neglect him.”

Phillipa smiled at him. “As I said,” she murmured, “you are a good man.”

He lowered his head humbly. “You are kind, your grace,” he said. Then his gaze trailed over to the staircase that led to the upper floors, a spiral flight built into the wall. “I came to the keep to see how Catie is faring, in fact. I saw you walking out with Gabriel but not with her. Or with Christelle.”

Phillipa gestured toward the floors above. “Catie is in her chamber, I believe,” she said. “But Christelle went outside earlier. You did not see her?”

He shook his head. “I did not.”

“She likes the garden in the kitchen yard, you know,” Phillipa said. “She likes flowers. Did you know that?”

He frowned. “Her?” he said. “I should think she would be the last person to like something most considered feminine and useless.”

Phillipa eyed him. “She is a woman, Leo,” she scolded him softly. “I realize she is different from most, but at heart, she is a woman of flesh and blood and feeling, like any other. I get the impression that her father was disappointed that she was born female, so he treated her like a man. Truthfully, I think she is very confused.”

“About what?”

“About what she is supposed to be.”

It was his turn to eye her. “She is a Blackchurch-trained warrior,” he said. “That is an astonishing accomplishment. That is who she is.”

Phillipa shook her head. “That is what she was trained to be,” she said. “It is not who she is.”

“Who do you think she is, then?”

Phillipa fought off a smile. “I think she is someone who is quite fond of you,” she said. “I think it would help her were you to spare her a kind word about what has happened. Mayhap you should speak to the woman, not the warrior.”

He scoffed, but perhaps with a little too much bluster. “I do not intend to speak to the woman or the warrior,” he said, trying to convince her that he had no interest. “What she likes or feels is inconsequential to me.”

Phillipa wasn’t stupid. She’d seen the way Christelle looked at Leonidas when he wasn’t looking, and she’d seen Leonidas look at Christelle when she wasn’t looking. Neither one of them seemed to be willing to engage the other in anything other than a completely proper, completely professional relationship, which she found both amusing and sad. In her opinion, however, Christelle needed some comfort after her heroic efforts to save Georgiana had gone awry—and Leonidas was just the person to do it.

If he would stop being so stubborn.

“Of course, Leo,” Phillipa said as if she believed him. “I did not mean to imply otherwise. But if you could say a kind word to her, as the father of the lost child, I am sure she would appreciate it.”

He simply nodded. With a lingering smile, Phillipa headed up the spiral stairs, leaving Leonidas standing in the entry, pondering the queen’s comments. He’d protested a little too much when he said he didn’t care what Christelle liked or what she felt. That was far from the truth, only he didn’t want Phillipa to know that. But something told him that she hadn’t believed him.

He didn’t blame her.

He was an idiot.

Turning for the keep entry to seek out Christelle, wherever she had gone, he slowly came to a halt. A thought suddenly occurred to him and he turned back for the stairs, heading to his chamber on the top level. It was the chamber he’d shared with Juliette, a vast thing that covered the entire floor. It still had all of Juliette’s things in it, things he hadn’t the heart to move or give away, so one entire wall where the wardrobe was had trunks and barrels full of items. Even Juliette’s dressing table hadn’t been touched. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it prior to departing for Woodstock, but now that he was back and facing all of his wife’s possessions on a daily basis, he was thinking of having Catherine help him go through everything. Perhaps it was time.

Someday, anyway.

Reaching the chamber, he stepped into the enormous room, feeling the cross-breeze coming from the windows. It was a messy chamber, and a little dusty, although Dayne had told him that Lady Maria had tried to claim it for herself while Leonidas was away and the knights had taken a hard line against her. It was bad enough that she had commandeered the solar, but they drew the line at the master’s bower.

It was difficult to stand in the chamber and not see Juliette everywhere. In front of the wardrobe as she lamented that she needed new clothing, or in front of her dressing table lamenting that her hair was not pretty enough or tame enough. He smiled when he remembered that because he would stroke her hair and it would fly away sometimes, sticking to his hand, and she would swat him.

That made him laugh.

Her dressing table.

There was something in that table he wanted to find.