Will snorted. “The more dramatic, the better.”
“Your son has bloodlust when it comes to a fallen enemy.”
Will continued to laugh softly. “He gets it honestly,” he said. “All of the de Wolfes have that particular trait.”
“Speaking of de Wolfe,” Marcellus said. “When are you planning on departing for Castle Questing and will any of us be going with you for your grandfather’s celebration?”
He meant him or the other two knights who served at Carlisle, Sir Hermes de Norville and Sir Ronan de Wolfe. Ronan was Will’s younger cousin, a young man with unearthly brilliance as a warrior. At eighteen years of age, he had already been knighted earlier in the year by his grandfather, the Earl of Warenton, because he was just that good. His first assignment had been Carlisle Castle, stationed with his older cousin in command. Somewhat quiet and introspective, but an utterly fearless warrior, Will considered himself fortunate to have young Ronan in his stable of knights.
And then, there was Hermes.
Hermes de Norville was about eight years older than Ronan, so still a young man in the grand scheme of things, but a more aggressive, cunning, wily, and intelligent warrior had never existed. Hermes and his older brother, Atreus, were very close in age and legends within the family for their fight-first-ask-questions-later behavior. The two of them together were like kindling and a spark, so their grandfathers, who were also Will’s grandfathers, thought it best to separate the pair when they were knighted lest they kill each other at some point.
Therefore, Will had been saddled with Hermes, whom he was actually quite glad to have even if the man did make him want to tear his hair out at times. But he knew there was no way he was going to keep Ronan or Hermes from the celebratory feast at Castle Questing.
“I assumed that all three of my knights would want to go with me,” he said after a moment, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “Besides – my grandfather is their grandfather, too, and it is William de Wolfe’s celebration of the day of his day of birth and nearly every household on the border has been invited, including those with eligible young women.”
“Excellent, my lord.”
Will cocked an eyebrow. “Are you hearing me, Marcellus? I said eligible women. Something we do not seem to have enough of around here.”
Marcellus grinned, holding up a hand. “You know I already have someone who occupies my heart and my mind,” he said. “But Ronan and Hermes do not. They need eligible women more than I do.”
“Sure they do.”
Marcellus started to laugh. “Truly, my lord, I am not looking for a bride,” he said. “But Hermes, in particular, says he must marry soon or his father will disown him.”
Will’s eyes glimmered with mirth. “That is probably true,” he said. “Uncle Hector thinks that marriage will settle him down, but the rest of us have our doubts.”
“As do I.”
Will chuckled. “But let us speak of you,” he said. “You speak of this lady who has your heart, but when can we expect you to bring her to Carlisle and marry her? My wife would like another companion.”
Marcellus’ smile faded a little. “Who can say?” he said evasively. “Now, may I tell your cousins that they are indeed going to Castle Questing?”
He was deliberately changing the subject, as he always did when it came to the enigmatic lady he spoke of on rare occasions. Will was well aware of the woman that Marcellus professed to have a fondness for and he had been for years, only Marcellus had never divulged her name and no one had ever seen her.
It was a big mystery, much as Marcellus himself was.
Marcellus was a de Lohr knight who had come north with Will when he and Lily had taken possession of Carlisle a few years ago, gifted to Will from Chris de Lohr, the Earl of Hereford and Worcester and Lily’s father. Marcellus’ grandfather, Leeton, had served the House of de Lohr many years ago, so he was a legacy knight and a very good one. Will considered him a friend, even if the man did keep to himself. He was a private man. Even so, Will had come to the conclusion that the phantom bride was a figment of the Marcellus’ imagination.
But he’d never tell him to his face.
“Tell them we leave the day after tomorrow,” he said. “We’ll travel with a heavily armed escort and leave most of the army here at Carlisle. We’ll leave one of the senior sergeants in command – I think Woodrow Decker is a good choice.”
“He would be mine, as well.”
“Then see to it,” Will said. “And you will have the big carriage prepared for my wife and son. Atticus will want to ride with the knights, but he will not, so make sure the carriage is prepared for a six-year-old lad who will be bored to tears for the duration of the journey.”
With a smirk, Marcellus headed off.
Will watched him go, looking forward to seeing his father and grandfather in the next few days. It had been a while since he’d seen them both, or the rest of his extended family for that matter, so he was happy to be going. But he knew someone who wouldn’t be.
His wife.
Taking a deep breath, he headed towards the keep.
*
“What do you think of this? Do you think the earl will like it?”
A young woman with gorgeous auburn hair held a piece of blue fabric against her body, showing it off to the woman seated in a cushioned chair.
But the woman in the chair waved her hand.
“It glistens too much,” she said. “We must have fabric that is as masculine and strong as Warenton himself.”
“But it’s quite lovely.”
“It’s better suited for a lady,” the woman in the chair stressed. “In fact, I may have you make a dress for me from it. Where did we get that piece of cloth again?”
The woman with the auburn hair held it up in front of her, looking at it. “Gretna, I think,” she said. “Remember? From the man who pays pirates to bring him goods from the sea?”
The woman in the chair snorted. “Aye, I remember him,” she said. “The man from Athens? What does he call himself? Kronos or something like it?”
“Karoly, my lady.”
Lily de Lohr de Wolfe nodded in remembrance. “The man is a bloody thief,” she said. “He has the pirates steal from the other merchant ships. At least, that is what Will tells me. I don’t care. I like the fabric, so I bought it.”
The woman with the auburn hair grinned as she carefully set the fabric aside, draping it over the back of a chair. She pulled forth another piece of cloth, a woolen fabric that had been greatly softened by using urine. It made the wool quite lovely to the touch, but she hated touching it. It had been dyed to a beautiful shade of green and she held it up for Lily to inspect.
“This one?” she asked.
Lily eyed the wool, leaning forward to finger it but realizing as soon as she touched it that it hadn’t been washed yet. She made a face and wiped her fingers off on a kerchief.
“It’s lovely, Adie,” she said. “Do you think you can sew a tunic in the next two days? I realize that is very short notice, but I could not decide on a gift until now.”
Lady Adria de Geld smiled. “I can,” she said. “You know there is no one faster than I at sewing a garment.”