Treasure of the Celtic Triangle (41 page)

Katherine, Rhawn, Percy, and Gwyneth were speaking in low tones, with Rhawn’s son in their midst. Gwyneth was telling Katherine where they had gone after leaving Llanfryniog and about Grannie and her father, though without divulging the reason for their sudden departure to Ireland.

On the couch across the room, Florilyn sat quietly weeping beside Steven Muir. One of her hands rested between his. A pulse of rage surged through Colville’s frame.

At the sight of the two young men rushing into their midst, faces flushed and hands eager for a fight, Percy stepped away from the women and moved to intercept them.

Nothing could have been more to Courtenay’s liking. An involuntary smirk passed over his lips.

Steven, too, rose and stepped protectively in front of Florilyn. Courtenay saw the movement and hesitated briefly. After the incident several days earlier, he was a little afraid of Steven. Not so, Colville Burrenchobay. Determined to be neither surprised nor foiled a second time, he charged like an angry bear.

“Defend yourself, Steven!” shouted Percy. “Don’t stand on ceremony—he’s dangerous!”

Florilyn and Rhawn screamed in a single voice. Percy shot a quick glance toward Gwyneth. She understood and hurried Rhawn, her son, and Katherine from the room.

Emboldened by Colville’s aggression, Courtenay rushed Percy with a fierce series of blows. He had been waiting for this opportunity for a long time. He was not about to let it pass without giving full vent to his frustrated resentment against his goody-goody cousin.

Meanwhile, Colville landed several severe blows alongside Steven’s head, one of which drew blood behind the ear. Steven was doing his best to evade or stop them, but with difficulty. Florilyn was yelling at them all to stop. Neither her brother nor Colville was inclined to back off from what they misperceived as a delicious advantage.

“Steven!” cried Percy again, not fearing Courtenay so much as he feared for Steven. “It’s the whip the moneychangers need, not the gentle word. Defend yourself, man!”

Willing enough under the circumstances to bow to Percy’s wisdom, ten seconds later Colville Burrenchobay was measuring the six-foot-two-inch length of his frame along the floor. Florilyn’s shrieks stopped abruptly to see with what lightning speed Steven had rendered the threat to himself unconscious in front of her.

“Courtenay … Courtenay, please!” implored Percy. “I need to speak with you.”

“Say it with your fists!’ shouted Courtenay. “Take your own advice and defend yourself! Are you a coward?”

“I have no desire to fight you, Courtenay.”

“It is too late for that!”

“Courtenay …
stop
!” It was now his sister’s voice he heard.

“I will stop when this bounder has learned that we need no more of his interference.”

“
Courtenay!
” cried Florilyn. “You’ve got to hear what Percy has to say.”

For answer, several more wicked blows came battering toward Percy’s head and body. But they did not continue much longer. Suddenly from behind, two huge arms clasped him round the chest. Finding himself caught in a straightjacket and held firmly against Steven Muir’s massive chest, he writhed to free himself, but to no avail.

“You big lout!” he cried. “Unhand me, Muir! You will pay for this, I tell you! Release me, and I may not bring charges against you.”

“Courtenay,” said Florilyn, her voice softer now. “You
must
listen.”

His audience at last a captive one, and by now his own righteous anger aroused, Percy walked close to Courtenay until he stood a foot in front of his face. “Courtenay,” he said in a passionate and indignant voice, “you will be twenty-five in a matter of days. It is time you grew up and stopped behaving like a spoiled child who thinks he can do and have anything he wants. While I am loathe to call anyone a fool for fear of the fires of hell, you have acted the part of the fool of Proverbs. You are a foolish and self-centered young man. It is time to be a man. A
man
, Courtenay, not a boy. I have done the best I could to be a friend and faithful cousin to you. Before he died, I promised your father that I would do all that was in my power to help take care of your sister. With that vow came an equal commitment to you. I would have striven to do my best for you and Florilyn even without that promise. But you have foiled all my efforts to be your friend. You despised me since my first visit here. You have not loved or followed the truth. You have been selfish and conceited toward me and toward others. You have made no effort to follow the right. You have been rude toward the young woman I love. All her life you treated her pure heart and forgiving spirit with shameful disdain.”

He paused, sensing Florilyn’s unspoken question at his words. He turned toward her. “Yes, Florilyn,” he said, nodding with a smile of acknowledgment, “I found Gwyneth in my own fir wood, as I think you knew I would. I have asked her to marry me.”

“Oh, Percy,” said Florilyn, rising and walking to him. “I am so happy for you.”

He turned to meet her.

She embraced him as Courtenay, still powerless in Steven’s grasp, looked on. Florilyn stepped back and now stood to face her brother. “Courtenay,” she said, “Percy is our friend, not our enemy.” Her voice was soft. The spell of lies at last was broken. “He has always been our friend. I don’t know how I could have forgotten. Now you
need
to listen to him.”

Slowly Steven relaxed his hold and stepped back.

“All right, then,” spat Courtenay belligerently, “what is it?”

“You may prefer to sit down,” said Percy.

“I will stand. I will submit to this childish show of power because you have me at a disadvantage,” spat Courtenay. “But know this,
cousin
, in five days I will take great pleasure in throwing you out of this house—you and all your accomplices in whatever game you are playing.”

“I do not think you will, Courtenay. I will not leave except by the word of the viscountess.”

“In five days the manor will be mine. If you refuse my order, I will have you removed by force.”

“Again, I think not, Courtenay. In five days the manor will
not
be yours.”

“Don’t talk bloody nonsense!”

“I speak the truth. You are not your father’s rightful heir.”

A stunned silence filled the room. Courtenay stared back speechless then broke into a laugh. “You are mad as a March hare! Who else would be his heir?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Percy saw Steven staring at him with an equally dumbfounded expression. “She whom your father commissioned me on his deathbed to find,” he replied to Courtenay’s question. “She who was his rightful heir by his first marriage, before he knew your mother.”

“An outrageous claim!” cried Courtenay. “If my father had been married twice, I would know of it. Who is this mystery heir?” For the first time a hint of nervousness was evident in his tone.

“The very one whom you so long despised as too far beneath you even to deserve your contempt—she whom you know as Gwyneth Barrie.”

Again a blank stare of incredulity met Percy’s words. Steven’s expression of disbelief drifted toward his own cousin. “She is but a peasant and guttersnipe!” he said. As he spoke, he laughed scornfully.

“Careful, Courtenay—she is the young woman who is to be my wife. I will let it pass this once. But do not insult her again, or I will give you cause to regret it. She is also your father’s granddaughter.”

The evident seriousness on his sister’s face and the confidence with which Percy spoke at last succeeded in sobering Courtenay to the reality that there might be more to the claim than could so easily be laughed off. He believed not a word of it. But the mirth slowly died from his lips.

“I presume you have some sort of proof you intend to put forward in support of this preposterous notion,” he said coolly.

As he spoke, on the floor Colville was returning to consciousness. His confused brain struggled to make sense of where he was. The only word that registered from out of the fog he now repeated in defense of the charge that had been brought against him.

“
Proof
…” he repeated in a slurred tongue, climbing groggily to his feet. “Proof … all lies … where’s the proof?”

“I believe all the proof needed for the truth of Rhawn’s words, Colville,” said Florilyn, “may be seen clearly enough in the face of that little boy who just left with his mother. Steven,” she said to Steven, “would you please escort Mr. Burrenchobay from the house. Our afternoon tea is over.”

With one hand on his arm, Steven gently ushered Colville through the french doors. A pronounced stinging in the region of his right cheekbone was all the persuasion Colville needed to go quietly. Steven saw him safely to the front of the house, helped him mount his horse, and returned inside through the main front door. By the time he reached home, Colville’s head was splitting, and he called for cold compresses.

Meanwhile, the three cousins were left alone in the sunroom.

“You spoke of proof,” said Percy. “All the proof you may require shall be provided in due course.”

“No doubt,” rejoined Courtenay sullenly. “But my solicitor shall make inquiries.”

“Florilyn,” said Percy, “would you mind going to your mother? Tell her I need to speak with her in private. I will join her momentarily. You may return and tell me where to meet her.”

Florilyn turned to go then hesitated. She gazed at Percy full in the face. “Percy … I am sorry,” she said. “Can you ever forgive me for the dreadful things I said?”

Percy smiled. “You were forgiven without needing to ask.”

She returned his smile, hugged him warmly, and left the room.

Percy and Courtenay exchanged a few more words in private.

S
IXTY
-E
IGHT

Ladies of the Manor

T
he moment they were alone, Katherine gave Gwyneth a warm hug.

“Gwyneth, my dear!” she exclaimed. “How you have grown. You are beautiful!”

Gwyneth smiled with peaceful embarrassment.

“But what are you doing here? No one knew where you had disappeared to.”

“I will leave that for Percy to explain, Lady Katherine,” replied Gwyneth. “I apologize that we came unannounced.”

“Think nothing of it. You are both more welcome than I can say.”

As they were talking, Florilyn walked through the door. She glanced about. There were her mother, Gwyneth, and Rhawn. All three turned toward her as the door opened. Her eyes filled with tears at the sight. She walked to her mother. Katherine received her into her embrace, and Florilyn broke into great cleansing sobs. “Mother,” she cried. “I am so sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t trust you or come to you.”

Katherine stroked her hair and held her as she had not done in years.

Florilyn wept until the storm gradually subsided. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes, then turned to Gwyneth. The two embraced. No words were needed.

Florilyn now approached Rhawn, whose tears were not yet altogether spent either. The two friends embraced, with mutual words of renewed affection. “Thank you, Rhawn,” said Florilyn. “It took courage to do what you did and tell me the truth. I know you didn’t want to. But you did it for me. I am sorry for all you have been through and for the terrible things I said. You are a true friend. I will never forget what you did for me today.”

Just then Steven returned from outside after seeing Colville on his way and walked into the room. Florilyn turned and saw him, then came toward him with a peaceful, humble, embarrassed smile. He opened his arms, and she walked into them without hesitation.

“I’m sorry, Steven,” she said softly. “I treated you terribly. I have no excuse. I forgot who you were—that you were my friend … and more than a friend.”

“It is over now,” he said tenderly. “It will be as if it never was.”

Florilyn now turned again to Katherine. “Mother,” she said, “Percy wants to see you alone. He asked me to tell him where you would like to meet him.”

Katherine nodded. She and Florilyn spoke further for a few moments, and then she left the room.

Percy entered Katherine’s private sitting room on the second floor a few minutes later.

His aunt was waiting for him.

“Hello, Aunt Katherine,” he said with a smile. “At last I can give you a proper greeting!”

She rose and embraced him. “You seem to have come just in time.”

“I had no idea about Florilyn’s engagement.”

“I told her she needed to write you. But she has been very different since your last visit.”

“I noticed.”

“I should have told you and your parents, but … I was embarrassed. I suppose I kept hoping Florilyn would come to her senses. How I prayed you would come!”

“I hope all that is over now. I am sorry I gave you no advance warning. Our trip was very sudden.”

“You are always welcome, Percy—with or without warning. Though I will not be at the manor much longer, as you know. This may be your final visit.”

“We shall see about that,” replied Percy. “Though I must say this wasn’t exactly the peaceful homecoming I envisioned,” he added with a light laugh. “It appears Gwyneth and I walked into a hornets’ nest!”