Lord Of The Manor

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“I am sorry, Richard,” Stephen apologized again, as he had all during the long walk from the hall up to Wilmont’s chambers in the palace. As well he should apologize. If only Stephen had kept his peace, and not drawn the king’s attention to them…Now they were in a sorry mess.

The long walk had shaved the sharpness from Richard’s anger, but it hadn’t yet cooled completely. He poured himself a goblet of wine and sank down in a chair.

“Stop apologizing for getting us into this fix and think of how to get us out,” he told Stephen. “There must be some way to convince Henry of the folly he commits.”

Richard glanced about the sitting room of Wilmont’s chambers, remembering the turmoil during the last time he’d occupied these palace rooms. So much had happened in the three years since. They had thought themselves done with Basil and his ilk. Now the widow and boy were throwing his life into upheaval once more—as if Basil were reaching back from the grave to do further mischief.

Just as the king had forced Gerard into a strange betrothal with Ardith, now Henry wanted to toss Richard into an unholy relationship with Lucinda. The difference was Gerard had wanted Ardith; Richard did not want Lucinda.

He no longer struggled with desire for the woman. It had vanished the moment Stephen had revealed her identity.

“Mayhap we could find another noble to take the boy as his ward,” Stephen suggested. “Someone acceptable to both the king and Gerard.”

“Pray tell, who?” Richard asked, thinking of the king’s strongest reason for giving Philip to one of Wilmont. “To which noble do we entrust the boy without fear of strife when the boy comes of age? Alliances change from day to day in this kingdom. Years hence, the protector might use the excuse of reclaiming Philip’s heritage to come after our lands!”

Stephen sighed. “Mayhap we should send to Gerard for counsel.”

Richard took a long swig of wine from his goblet. “There is not a horse in this kingdom with the speed and stamina necessary to travel from Westminster to Wilmont and back again before the morn. I fear, Stephen, we are on our own.”

At the moment, he saw no other choice but to accept Philip’s wardship. Compelling Gerard to take the boy would be like putting a knife in his brother’s gullet and twisting it.

Gerard would be furious if forced to submit to the king’s edict, to the point where his relationship with Henry might suffer permanent severance. Gerard wouldn’t be pleased if Richard submitted either, but it would be the more palatable arrangement, especially if Henry truly intended to include the mother in the bargain.

Hellfire. What would he do with the pair? He’d once planned to take them home to Collinwood. Unfortunately, Collinwood had once belonged to Basil and the people vividly remembered their former lord’s heavy oppression. They wouldn’t look kindly on their new lord for bringing Basil’s widow and child among them.

His tenants’ trust had been hard earned. Many were still wary, as if waiting for the day when he would become as harsh and cruel as Basil. Bringing Lucinda and Philip to Collinwood might jeopardize their budding loyalty.

Mayhap he could take them to another of his holdings and just leave them there, visit occasionally to see how they fared. But then, could he fulfill his obligations to the boy from a distance?

“Mayhap not all is as bad as it now seems,” Stephen said. “Depending upon how much in fees and rents the boy’s lands in Normandy bring you, this wardship could be a boon.”

Richard almost laughed. “And how do you suggest I go about collecting the fees from Basil’s family without taking an army to Normandy?”

Stephen shrugged a shoulder. “If Henry signs an order instructing this George to pay the rents to you, the man really has little choice. Henry is also the Duke of Normandy, George’s liege lord.”

“His very absent, very faraway liege lord.”

Stephen tossed his hands in the air. “Very well, Richard. I gave you the benefit of my counsel and you reject all of my ideas. ’Tis your turn to suggest an option.”

Richard wished he could.

“I suppose I should seek out Lucinda, see if she has any ideas. I am sure she is thinking hard on the matter, too. She likes this edict no more than you or I.”

Lucinda tossed her good gown into the sack, drew the rope and tied the knot.

“Are you ready, Philip?”

“I do not want to leave,” he complained, again. “Brother Ambrose promised me a tour of the stables on the morn. Please, Mother, can we not stay until then?”

She would like to indulge the boy, and if she could think of a way to sway the king from his edict, she would. She’d asked for a protector and Henry had granted one, but he’d ignored Philip’s best interests, or hers, in favor of his own.

“Nay, we cannot stay. Now hurry.”

“Do we go to my protector’s castle, with the horses?”

“The noble whom the king would give you to is not suitable, so we must continue our search for a nice village in which to settle.”

How Henry could justify making Gerard of Wilmont Philip’s protector astonished her. Gerard would surely hate the very idea of caring for the son of the man who’d kidnapped and abused his wife and son. As for Richard, the expression on his face upon hearing the king’s edict had left no doubt of his feelings.

Abiding by Henry’s decision was the least palatable of her options, especially if Henry truly intended to give Philip’s protector authority over her, too. Running away might be the coward’s way out, but rather a free coward than Wilmont’s prisoner.

Philip groaned and pulled a long face, but he picked up his pack. “You gave away Oscar’s mule. How will we carry everything? Where are we going?”

She had no notion of where they would go. For now, beyond the city limits and into the countryside would suffice. By the time anyone realized they were gone, she and Philip would be well out of reach.

“We will find somewhere to stay the night, mayhap another abbey,” she said, then pulled, pushed, and cajoled Philip through the abbey’s passageways.

She broke into the sunshine of the yard, turned the corner of the building nearest the road—and came chest-to-chest with Richard of Wilmont.

Lucinda stumbled and almost dropped her pack. Richard grabbed her upper arms to steady her.

His hands were large and warm, his grip firm but not hurtful. Even as she cursed her ill luck, her body heated to Richard’s touch as it had on the road. ’Twas disconcerting, this thrill along her spine at the touch of a man, especially a man as large and powerful as Richard. She should be repulsed, as she’d been every time Basil had touched her. She should tremble with fear, not attraction!

He glanced down at her pack, then over at Philip. He didn’t say anything, just raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I thought it best if Philip and I left,” she said, hoping he would understand. She expected him to let her go and allow them to leave. He didn’t.

“Where would you go?” he asked.

“Away. Far away.”

“’Twould do no good to leave. Henry would order me to find you and bring you back.”

“You could say you could not find us,” she offered.

“Henry would know better.”

She couldn’t think while this close to Richard. She took a step back; he released his grip.

“Certes, you do not want us,” she said, her thoughts becoming clearer. “I should think you would be relieved that we go our separate ways.”

He crossed his arms. “You are correct, Lucinda. I do not like Henry’s edict, but neither can I let you leave.”

Lucinda felt a tug on her skirt. “Mother?”

She was certainly making a mess of her escape. Of course, if Richard hadn’t happened along to waylay her, she and Philip would be well away by now. Or had he just happened along? Had he been coming to see her?

Richard bent down and grabbed Philip’s pack. “Come,” he said, placing a hand at her elbow. He gave a slight push in the direction of the palace. She stood firmly in place.

“Where do we go?”

“To Wilmont chambers. ’Tis private there so we can talk. There must be some way to solve this dilemma without putting any of us at risk.”

“Such as?”

“I do not know yet, but putting you and the boy in jeopardy is not an answer.”

Richard watched Lucinda’s ire melt into resignation. If forced to, he’d have dragged her kicking and screaming to the palace. He couldn’t let her flee, no matter how much she wanted to leave and he wanted to let her go. Henry would be furious, and Wilmont’s standing at court couldn’t sustain another blow without suffering severe damage.

When next Richard pushed at her elbow, Lucinda turned and started toward the palace. Philip silently followed in their wake.

Richard really couldn’t blame Lucinda for attempting an escape. In her position, about to be placed under control of one whom she considered an enemy, he might have tried the same thing. Then why was he angry that she tried to leave? It made no sense, but then all his reactions to Lucinda made no sense.

He’d thought all desire for her dead—until the moment he touched her again, until he’d stared into the depths of her violet eyes and found determination mixed with fear.

Richard ushered them into Wilmont’s chambers and tossed Philip’s pack in the corner near the brazier. Stephen had left for who knew where. Lucinda and Philip stood in the doorway, but neither seemed sure of what to do next.