WolfeLord by Kathryn Le Veque
CHAPTER TWO
It had been a long time since he’d been to Carlisle Castle.
St. Ansgar de Geld, otherwise known as Gar, rode into the outer bailey of the massive border bastion, reacquainting himself with the sheer size of the place. It had been a very long ride from his home of Alcester Cottage located south and west of Coventry, but he needed to see his only child and he didn’t want to send a missive. He hadn’t seen Adria in almost a year, but this wasn’t a social call.
It was a business one.
He’d come for a reason.
After giving his name to the guards at the gatehouse and stating his business, he was ushered into the outer bailey, which was quite large. There were stables and outbuildings, and structures where the enormous army was housed. He’d been here before but he was always impressed by the enormity of it. The garrison commander, Will de Wolfe, had both royal and de Wolfe troops stationed at the castle, so it was a crowded place.
Gar remembered very well when he’d received a missive from his daughter telling him that she was going north with Lady de Wolfe because the king had appointed her husband garrison commander of Carlisle Castle. The House of de Wolfe controlled nearly the entire stretch of the Scottish border as it was, so placing a de Wolfe son at the helm of one of the largest and most disputed castles on the border was not unexpected.
The de Wolfes were the ones with the money and the power Gar had always hoped for.
The family had dozens of grandsons and cousins floating around and surely there was one his daughter could marry. That was the main reason he’d given his permission, and in light of the fact that she was the heiress to a barony, surely some worthy and rich knight would want her, if for no other reason than she could give him the title of Baron Alcester.
That title was the only thing of value that Gar had.
So, he waited. It was a fine day in early summer and the humidity from the River Eden wasn’t too terribly strong this day, not like it would get in the later summer months when the moisture and the bugs would fill the air and make it difficult to breathe. Even this far north, it could get sticky. As he stood there and continued to wait, a stable servant came to collect his horse, so he removed his satchel from the saddle and let the boy take his old rouncey away. The horse was elderly and sometimes unreliable.
Much like him.
“Papa!”
Gar turned to see Adria rushing towards him and he took a moment to drink in the sight of his only child. She was wearing a dark blue dress with embroidery around the rather daring neckline and around the sleeves, which were open and draping. He was rather pleased to see how beautifully she was filling out, as the dress clung to her shapely figure. Surely any man would notice that, which played in his favor.
Perhaps he had more of an asset in her than he’d remembered.
When she came close, he embraced her and kissed her on the cheek.
“Adie,” he said with satisfaction. “Look how beautiful you are. I’d fairly forgotten.”
Adria smiled at her father, but it was forced. Their greeting was almost detached, which was normal with them. They’d never been a hugely affectionate pair.
“What a surprise to see you,” she said. “Why did you not send word that you were coming?”
Gar shrugged. “I wanted to surprise you,” he said. “Besides, it was a long journey and I did not wish to worry you if I did not show my face when you would have expected me to. I move slower these days, I’m sorry to say.”
Adria looked at him curiously. “Are you ill?”
He shook his head. “Nay, not ill,” he said. “Just… tired. And I’ve not seen you in quite some time, so there is much to tell you. I do hope my visit is welcome.”
“Of course it is,” Adria said. “Quite unexpected, but not unwelcome. Please come into the hall. I am sure you wish to sit down on something that isn’t moving.”
“That would be much appreciated, Daughter.”
Adria took him by the arm in a polite gesture and began to lead him towards the second enormous gatehouse that protected the inner bailey and the keep of Carlisle.
“How are things at the Cottage?” she asked. “I’ve not heard from you in some time, not since the last time I saw you when we traveled to Lioncross Abbey.”
Gar was looking up at the walls of the inner bailey, marveling at the sheer size of them. “The house and the lands are the same,” he said. “Nothing much has changed.”
“And you? How have you been?”
“That is what we shall discuss.”
Adria glanced at him, feeling more curiosity at his reply, but she said nothing. She simply continued to lead him towards the keep. Truthfully, his sudden appearance had her on edge because her father could be shifty. That was putting it kindly.
St. Ansgar de Geld wasn’t what one would call a noble man.
He had some issues.
Purely of his own doing, of course. Gar wasn’t a responsible man. He was someone who would rather drink and gamble away money meant for debts or food. His father had been a good man and had tried to set an example for his son, who had been shady at an early age, but whatever lessons the father tried to teach the son had never been learned.
It was something that had driven Adria’s mother to an early grave.
Anne de Sauster de Geld had been from a good Cornwall family, marrying Gar de Geld and bringing a fortune with her. She’d tried to be a good wife and mother, but Gar had piddled away her entire dowry and more besides. It was too much for the woman to bear and when she became ill, he couldn’t pay for a physic to tend her. She’d died of a cancer, leaving a small daughter and a distraught husband who, in the end, used her death to emotionally blackmail her family for money until they finally cut him off.
Adria knew her father was looking for another pot of gold to tap into.
It was difficult to be truly affectionate with a father who viewed her as a commodity and, quite honestly, that was part of the reason she loved being so far away from him. He was way down towards the south while she was up in the wild north.
And she liked it that way.
They made their way into a big chamber that used to be the great hall, which was located in the keep and had the unique feature of having a massive wall run through the middle of it. Because of the activity on the border when it came to Carlisle Castle and the number of times it had been attacked, the wall in the hall added another layer of security because the opening in the wall could be locked with a big, iron grate, blocking off the stairs leading up to the upper levels. It was low-ceilinged, warm, and smelled heavily of the dogs that roamed the hall in packs, and Adria took her father to one of the well-scrubbed tables, sending a servant running for food.
“There, Papa,” she said, indicating the bench. “Sit down and tell me why you’ve come all the way to Carlisle to see me.”
Gar sat heavily, setting his satchel down beside him. “Can a father not visit his daughter simply because he wants to see her?”
“Is that why you came? Just to see me?”
The way Gar looked at her suggested that he was aware that she knew there was some motive behind his appearance other than fatherly love. There wasn’t much of that and there never had been.
“You have a suspicious mind,” he said quietly.
Adria wasn’t going to apologize. “When it comes to you, I do,” she said. “I am glad to see you, but I know you did not come simply because you missed me. You may as well tell me now rather than later, so come out with it.”
Gar removed his worn leather gloves, setting them on the tabletop. “Can we not just exchange pleasantries first?”
Adria shook her head. “It must be bad, indeed, if you will not tell me right away,” she said. “What has happened?”
The servants picked that moment to enter the hall, bearing trays of drink and food. They set them down next to Adria so that she could serve. Their fare included a pitcher with cloudy ale and a platter of raspberries, an early crop of cherries, pickled carrots, cheese, and bread. As the servants departed, Adria poured some of the barley ale into a cup and put it in front of her father.
“Now,” she said quietly. “Tell me why you have come. I am listening.”
Gar drank the entire cup of ale in three gulps, setting the cup down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Adria poured him more and he drained half of it before speaking.
“You know why,” he said quietly, his gaze averted.
“If I knew, I would not ask.”
He paused. “De Brito.”
That drew an immediate reaction from Adria. “Not him again,” she said in disgust. “What does he want now? Is it about the money?”
Gar looked up from his lap. “Money is not what he wants and you know this,” he said. “That was not the deal.”
They were only a few minutes into their conversation and, already, Adria had heard enough. “I know what the deal was,” she said angrily. “I have already told you that I will not marry him.”
Gar sighed sharply. “I made the bargain,” he said, trying not to raise his voice for all to hear. “You know that Silas de Brito supplied me with enough money so that you could be sent to Kenilworth to foster. One visit to one of Lancaster’s lavish tournaments, purposely putting you in Lady Lancaster’s sight, and spending four days heaping praise upon Lancaster and his wife before finally broaching the subject of you fostering at Kenilworth.”
“I did not ask you to do it!”
“I did it for you.”
“You did not,” Adria fired back. “You did it for yourself. You did it because you were hoping I would make connections at Kenilworth for you and your gambling circle and in return, you promised de Brito that I would marry him when I came of age. Well, I will not marry him. I told you I would not when you first told me of your scheme and I will tell you again – I will not marry Silas de Brito. If you came here to ask me again to do it, then you have wasted your time and mine.”
Gar watched his daughter from across the table, seeing her angry, red cheeks, the flash in her green eyes. “I am not asking you,” he said steadily. “I am telling you. You will marry him.”
Adria was shaking her head even before he finished speaking. “I will not,” she said. “If you try and force me, I will scream the entire time. I will create such a scene that you will be sorry you ever tried. Papa, all de Brito wants is the title I can bring him. That is all. If you pay him back the money he loaned you, then he can find his title elsewhere.”
“The Alcester title is an old and prestigious one.”
“It is an empty one,” she snapped quietly. “It is as empty as your pockets.”
Gar didn’t like to be reminded of their abject poverty. Adria wasn’t subjected to it because she served with the House of de Lohr and they were generous with her, but he didn’t have that advantage. He lived in a big house, once rich, now bare and cold and lifeless. He had hoped that his daughter could bring wealth to him through marriage but, so far, she’d been uncooperative and he was starting to lose patience.
“I have come a very long way and you will not disobey me,” he said. “You’ve yet to find a husband at your advanced age, so you must marry de Brito.”
Adria shook her head again. “I will not,” she said. “I will not be forced into anything.”
Gar rolled his eyes, feeling desperate. “Then find a husband,” he said. “You are past your prime, Adria. Do you think some man is going to choose you over a young, virginal angel? More than likely not. If you will not marry de Brito, then find a wealthy husband so I can give Silas his money and be done with him. Otherwise, you must marry him.”
Adria was at her limit of patience with her father. She knew that butting heads with him wouldn’t work, so she forced herself to calm. In truth, she was calm by nature, but her father seemed to release an inner demon in her that she didn’t like, especially when it came to pulling her into his underhanded dealings.
She was always on the defensive with him.
“Papa, I am sorry that your ill restraint when it comes to gambling has brought you to ruin,” she said, trying to be understanding when the truth was that she didn’t understand him at all and never had. “I am sorry that you have used your daughter as something to bargain with. Although I am grateful to have fostered at Kenilworth because it has brought me to Carlisle and Lady de Wolfe, understand that I will not let you pull me down into the quagmire that is your life. Baron Alcester used to stand for something fine when Grandfather bore the title and his father before him. It was a title of responsibility and de Geld was a respectable name, but you have destroyed any semblance of what your father and his father built. I will not marry Silas de Brito and I will not marry a wealthy man simply to get money to pay off your debts. I am sorry you came all the way to Carlisle for nothing. Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do. A servant will show you where you can sleep.”
“Stop,” he commanded softly when she stood up. “Just like that? You would walk away when I need you the most?”
“You do not need me, only what I can bring you.”
Gar looked up at her, pale and distressed. He ran a hand through his thinning hair, trying to think of something to say that would make her stay and talk to him. He finally sighed sharply and looked away.
“You are all that I have,” he said. “If you leave me, what will I have? There will be nothing left. I may as well be dead.”
Adria knew that her father was very good at emotional blackmail. She’d seen him do it to her mother’s family for years so she wasn’t going to fall for it.
“If you feel that way, then I am sorry,” she said. “You may stay here at Carlisle until you are rested, but then you must go home. I do not want you here making trouble.”
He looked at her sharply. “What trouble would I make?”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Knowing you, there would be a game of dice tonight after sup and you would be right in the middle of it, gambling with Lord Irthington’s soldiers.”
“Irthington? Who is that?”
“De Wolfe,” she said. “He was given that title when he was appointed the garrison commander. Henry himself bestowed it upon him. Remember? I told you when it happened.”
Gar shook his head slowly. “I do not recall,” he said. “So the man has a title, does he?”
“He does.”
“And he married a de Lohr,” he said, sounding bitter. “That means he is not only the son and heir to a great earldom, but his wife is the daughter of an earl which means he’s as rich as Croesus. Some people have all the luck.”
Adria didn’t want to engage him in that conversation because it wouldn’t end well. Her father was the jealous sort.
“He is a good man,” she said. “He was born into a good family and he has prospered. You cannot begrudge him that.”
Gar eyed her. “He has brothers, doesn’t he?” he said. “Cousins? Surely some of them are unmarried.”
Adria wasn’t going to have that conversation with him, either. She pointed to the food on the table.
“Eat your fill and I will send a servant to show you where you sleep,” she said. “There will be a great feast tonight, so do not miss it. But if I find you gambling with the soldiers, I will throw you out of Carlisle myself. Do I make myself clear?”
Gar just turned away from her, pouring himself more ale. Adria’s gaze lingered on him a moment before heading from the hall to find Lily and tell her that her father had arrived for a visit. Of course, she would make it sound as if Gar had missed her terribly and had come to see his only child on a social call, but that wasn’t the truth. Adria wished it was. She wished she had a father who actually loved her.
As her father had said, some people had all the luck.
But she wasn’t one of them.
