The Iron Knight (The De Russe Legacy Book 3) (20 page)

“You love your father?”

“I adore him.”

Emmaline smile faintly. “I loved my father, too,” she said. “I was very sad when he passed away. ’Tis strange… his death seems so long ago, yet it also seems like it was just yesterday. It has only been a few years but I feel greatly panicked when I think that I cannot remember what his face looked like.”

Colton looked at her. She was a pretty thing, like her mother, and she had a rather deep, honeyed voice for one so young. She didn’t seem giddy or particularly silly like most young women were. She seemed to have a fairly level head.

“What did he look like?” he asked quietly.

Emmaline had been thinking on her father’s features when Colton asked the question. Surprised at the rather gentle question, she looked at the man only to see that he was looking at her quite intently. Their eyes locked and her face flushed a deep shade of red. Perhaps, she wasn’t so ready to be alone with him as she thought. Quickly, she lowered her gaze.

“He… he had brown hair,” she stammered, feeling his eyes on her. “But it was light brown, not dark. He had green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He liked to hug me and rub his scratchy beard on my face until I screamed.”

She was grinning as she said it, something that made Colton smile as well. “That sounds much like my father,” he said. “My father is a hugging man. He would hug me until I cried to be released. He still hugs me, even today, but I do not run from it like I used to.”

Emmaline dared to look up at him. “You should not,” she said quietly. “Someday he will no longer be there to hug you and you will miss it.”

Before Colton could reply, the entry door to the keep opened up and Lucien blew in, carrying a wailing Susanna in his arms. They made their way swiftly past the solar and up the spiral stairs that led to the floor above. Close on Lucien’s heels, Sophina entered the keep as well, following Lucien’s path up the stairs. Their movements had been very hurried, as if both Lucien and Sophina had a purpose, perhaps having to do with Susanna and the events of the night. Emmaline looked at Colton with some alarm but he merely shrugged as if whatever was going on had nothing to do with them. His casual attitude calmed her alarm immediately.

But they were prevented from discussing it as the servant Colton had sent for food also entered the keep, heading into the solar with a heavy tray in her hands. The woman was struggling with the weight so Colton stood up and went to her, taking the pitcher and cups from the tray, setting them on the table. With the tray balanced, the servant proceeded to set a big knuckle of boiled beef on the table along with pickled turnips, boiled peas and beans, and bread with a big glob of butter next to it. She brought three big metal spoons and a knife, but there were no trenchers or anything to put the food on for individual servings.

Silently, the servant fled the solar, leaving Emmaline and Colton there with only three big spoons and nothing to serve the food on. Colton simply picked up a spoon and handed it to Emmaline.

“Eat,” he said. “I will see if I can have the servant find some trenchers.”

Emmaline shook her head. “That is not necessary,” she said. “There is no one else to eat the food but me. I do not mind spooning it out of the bowls and into my mouth.”

He was about to insist on trenchers but thought better of it. If it didn’t matter to her, then it didn’t matter to him. But she might feel differently with what he was about to say. He picked up one of the spoons as well.

“I have not yet eaten, my lady,” he said. “I was planning on sharing this with you since your companions have gone to their chamber. Should I seek the trenchers now?”

Emmaline didn’t look at him. She thought it was rather romantic, sharing the meal with the knight with only spoons to eat from the same bowls. She knew it was very forward of her to think so, but she was coming to have something of an obsession for Colton. And why not? He was handsome and well-spoken. She liked that. She also liked the way he looked at her. Coyly, she shook her head in response to his question.

“Nay,” she said, putting her spoon into a bowl of steaming green pea pottage. “If you do not mind sharing from the same bowl, then I am not troubled, either.”

Colton almost insisted that he go and get the trenchers but something made him pause. He was rather flattered that she didn’t mind. She was young, this one, but not too young. She was only four or five years younger than he was, or so he thought. He really didn’t know.

But something made him want to find out.

CHAPTER NINE

“T
his is why
I do not allow you to sup in the hall,” Lucien said, his jaw ticking with restrained anger. “You cannot behave yourself, not ever. Even when you promise me you will behave, you never keep that promise. What you did was extremely serious. Do you even comprehend that?”

Sitting small and pale and defiant on her bed in the middle of her opulent bed chamber, Susanna’s face was set in a permanent frown. Her father had just brought her back from the disarray that was the great hall, disarray that was her fault no less, and she wasn’t happy in the least. The child was defiant until the end.

“I… I did not mean to hit him,” she said. “He put his face in the path of my canes. It was not my fault!”

Lucien looked at her, his jaw continuing to tick. He was so angry that he was genuinely afraid of what he would say to the girl.
The girl.
He couldn’t even call her his daughter. Was he truly so detached from his own flesh and blood?

“He did not put his face in the path of your canes,” he said, hardly able to control his rage. “You had a tantrum. You hit the Earl of Holderness. Susanna, I am at my end with you. I did not discipline you when I should have and I have indulged you far too much, thinking that gifts and patience would buy your good behavior. But it has not. You are unruly and uncivilized, and now you have shamed me in front of a peer. You are too simple to understand just how serious this is. Therefore, I am going to do what I should have done years ago. I am going to send you away. It is obvious that I have no control over you.”

Susanna’s eyes widened. “You will send me
away
?”

“Aye.”

“Where?”

“Cranborne Priory.”

“The church of the Blessed Virgin and Saint Bartholomew?”

“Aye.”

Instead of screaming, Susanna stared at him in shock. It was clear that she had no idea how to react, but soon enough, the lower lip began to tremble. Tears began to form.

“You hate me,” she hissed. “You are sending me away because you hate me.”

Lucien refused to give in to the pity and the guilt that her accusations so frequently brought on. “I do not hate you,” he said. “I am your father. But it is clear I have made a terrible decision in keeping you with me all of these years. Mayhap the nuns at Cranborne can do something with you for I, surely, cannot.”

Susanna burst into soft tears. “You hate me,” she repeated. “You hate Rafe, too. That is why he stays away and will not come home. He hates you, too!”

Lucien’s composure took a hit at the mention of his son, a young man he’d not seen in years. It was Rafe’s choice, of course. Lucien had never really made the time for the boy after his wife’s death, instead, burying himself in the politics of the king. It seemed better for him to forget he’d had a family because grief threatened to overwhelm him. But the consequences were serious in that Rafe de Russe had grown to resent his father so much that, to this day, he would not speak to him. He would not return missives sent. Lucien had stopped sending anything to his son about a year ago. He knew now that his relationship with his children was entirely his fault. In trying to forget about his beloved wife’s death, he’d alienated both of them.

“Rafe is a man grown and can make his own choice on the relationship he has with his father,” he said quietly. “You, however, are not grown. You are still a child and a badly behaved one at that. I will have Lady Leonie begin packing your things.”

With that, he turned for the door, leaving his daughter sobbing quietly behind him. He couldn’t even spare the energy to comfort her, fearful he would go back on his decision as he fell for her sorrow. Nay, he couldn’t do that at all. He had to remain strong because she had to be sent away.

It was the best thing for both of them.

Shutting the chamber door softly behind him, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, on the stairwell leading to the floor above. With lightning speed, he grabbed the dagger at his waistband, turning to confront the movement, but relief flooded him when he saw Sophina stepping off of the stairwell.

She was smiling at him in the dim light. The sight of her lightened his heart in ways he could not describe; from the hell of dealing with Susanna to the glorious sight of Sophina, his emotions were swinging wildly.

“I am sorry,” Sophina said softly as she came off the stairs. “I did not mean to startle you. I came to see how your daughter was faring.”

Lucien’s manner was soft on her. “That is kind,” he said, sheathing the dagger. “She is well. Better than the earl is, at least.”

He said the last sentence with some irony and Sophina’s smile broadened. “He permitted me to look at his damaged mouth,” she said. “He has some loose teeth but nothing was knocked free. Most of the blood we saw was from his teeth cutting the tender interior of his mouth. He will heal.”

Lucien nodded in understanding. “My thanks to you for tending the earl,” he said. “That was generous, my lady.”

She shrugged. “It was no trouble,” she said. “But I will say that he is quite angered by what happened. Mayhap… mayhap you should go and speak with him, to ease him.”

Lucien cocked his head curiously. “Did he say something to you?”

She shook her head. “Not to me, he didn’t,” she said. Then, she eyed him. “But he said a good deal to his son. Things I should not repeat to you.”

“Tell me. Please.”

She was reluctant. “He will know that I have told you.”

“Then if he did not want me to know, he should not have said it for you to hear.”

Sophina could see that he wasn’t going to let it go. The truth was, he should probably know what was said so he knew just what the earl thought of him. Hesitantly, she spoke.

“He questioned your ability as a husband and father based on the behavior of your daughter,” she said quietly. “I should not repeat these things, my lord, but….”

“Go on,” he encouraged her. “I would know what the man has said. It is only fair.”

Sophina sighed faintly. “He spoke of your son,” she said, her voice low. “He said that the boy spouts his hatred of you and that the son’s rantings should be an indication of your true character. He is not entirely sure he wants his daughter to be married to such a man.”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “I have already broken that betrothal.”

“Then the earl must have forgotten.”

Lucien’s jaw began ticking with anger again. That and the throbbing veins in his temples were usually the first indications of a coming storm. But he kept himself in check, mulling over what he’d been told. He realized that his main concern was whether Sophina believed any of it or not. He didn’t want her thinking he was an inept man hidden behind the guise of an honorable reputation. Nay, he didn’t want that at all.

“I am sorry you had to hear such things,” he said after a moment. “I have been painted in a rather unflattering light.”

Sophina tried to smile but what he said was true; the earl’s rantings were not flattering. “The earl was angry,” she said in defense of Lucien. “As you have pointed out, he is not the most tactful man. I am sure that what he said was not true.”

Lucien nodded. “But it is,” he said. He sighed faintly, moving for the stairs where she was standing. Never in his life had he had any inclination to explain his relationship with his children, but he did now. He wanted Sophina to understand that he wasn’t a completely terrible father, merely a guilty one. “It is true, Sophina. My son will not speak to me and my daughter… well, you have seen how she is.”

“That does not make you an inept husband or father.”

He looked at her, sorrow in his eyes. “I suppose not,” he whispered. Then, he averted his gaze, rubbing the heel of his big boot on the floor. It was a pensive gesture. When he spoke again, it was barely above a whisper. “Her name was Laurabel. She came from the House of de Reyne, a great family to the north. Oh, we were in love. Giddy, wonderful love. I adored her. She was petite, with blonde hair and an infectious laugh. When my son was born, we were overjoyed. Rafe was everything we could have hoped for and he was my pride and my joy. When he was around eight years of age, I sent him to foster although it was difficult to part with him. Still, it was necessary. Right before that time, Laurabel became pregnant with Susanna. We were thrilled. But in that happiness came my worst nightmare.”

Sophina knew what had happened to his wife and she was deeply sympathetic. Silently, she sat on the steps, tugging on his sleeve so that he sat down on the step below her. Her hand rested on his shoulder as he continued.

“Susanna’s birth was traumatic,” he said, his voice full of sorrow. “She was stuck inside my wife’s womb, unable to come free, and the physic had to struggle to bring her forth. You can see the results of the birth on my daughter, as she cannot walk properly. Although her mind is very much intact, her body is damage. But Laurabel… she bled to death. There was naught the physic could do to save her. After that… after that, it was nearly impossible to face life without her. I suppose I found solace in my duties for the king. There was a great deal going on and it was easy to distract myself with war. But in the process, I neglected my children, both of them. The results are what you see – a daughter with terrible behavior and a son who will not speak to me. It is my fault and I know it. Lo, that I had handled the situation differently. But grief – and guilt – has created my own private hell. So, you see, the man they call The Iron Knight is only hard and invulnerable on the exterior. Inside, there is nothing left.”