Elle turned to Curtis, who now found himself the object of her disapproval. He scowled at his son. “Many thanks, lad,” he muttered wryly. “Now she will take a stick tome.”
Elle wouldn’t let him get away so easily. “Did you really tell them that?”
Curtis sighed. He decided to confess everything and hope for the best. “I did,” he said. “It is a long journey to Monmouth Castle, and I did tell them that we should be prepared, but I did not give them permission to beat each other bloody.”
Elle shook her head reproachfully at her husband before turning to the boys. “Mouse, stand up,” she told her nephew. “All of you will go to the kitchen yard and wash off your faces andhands. Clean yourselves up. Then you will go to the great hall, sit down, and stay there. Do not move until I come to you. And keep your hands off one another. Am I clear?”
The boys nodded solemnly. Elle pointed to the stairwell, a silent gesture to get on with it, and the six of them slipped away, hissing and whispering angrily as they headed down the stairwell. That left Elle and Curtis standing alone. Once the boys were out of earshot, Curtis broke down in giggles.
“God’s Bones,” he muttered. “They remind me so much of my brothers and me that it is frightening sometimes.”
Elle was fighting off a grin. “They are just like the lot of you,” she said, trying to sound disgusted. “But mark my words—one of these days, someone is going to be seriously injured. They play far too roughly with each other.”
Still chuckling, Curtis went to her and wrapped her up in his arms. “You must let them be true to themselves,” he said, kissing her cheek when she tried to turn away. “I know you do not like to hear that, but it is true. They must learn and they must grow, but they can only learn by doing.”
Elle was trying to avoid his seeking lips but she wasn’t trying very hard. “I do not think ambushing each other is learning,” she said. “That is Asa’s fault. He has encouraged them to do that.”
Curtis finally managed to kiss her on the mouth. “That is because he only has two daughters,” he said. “The man lives for a good fight, so he finds it in our boys.”
Elle couldn’t keep the smile off her face after that. “UncleAsa,” she said, shaking her head. “Who knew they’d have a Jewish uncle?”
“One who likes the thrill of battle, no less.”
She chuckled. “But he has made an excellent addition to our house, hasn’t he?” she said. “Who knew he would find another Welsh lass to marry in the end?”
Curtis nodded. “It is a good thing he did, for I do not know what I would do without him and his sword,” he said. Then his hand found her gently rounded belly. “Speaking of sword, mayhap this one will be another girl. Then we’ll have three of each, and we’ll only have to worry about the boys because the girls will be perfect.”
She thought on her blonde, curly-haired daughters. “Mary and Valeria are angels,” she agreed. “Although Valeria is more like the boys. She certainly has your grandmother’s spirit, from what your father says.”
Curtis couldn’t disagree. Their daughters were five years and four years old, respectively, and absolutely the apples of his eye. “She will ride into battle with me someday, just like her great-grandmother,” he said. “Where are the girls, anyway?”
“Where do you think?” Elle said wryly. “They are with your father, attached to him by invisible cords. When he is around, I hardly see them.”
Curtis grinned. “He adores them, and the feeling is mutual,” he said, but his smile soon faded. “But I will be honest when I say that I wish he had not come.”
Elle knew what he meant. Christopher hadn’t been well as of late—not terribly so, but enough to worry his sons, who fretted like women sometimes when it came to their beloved papa. Putting her hands on his face, she kissed him before letting him go.
“Your mother says he would not stay away,” she said, taking him by the hand and leading him toward the stairwell. “She says he has been feeling well enough, and this is a big move for us, so he wanted to be part of it. He’s well enough if he’s simply sitting down and not trying to exert himself.”
Curtis was still greatly saddened. “He’s very old,” he said. “The physic says his heart—”
“His heart is fine,” Elle said, not wanting Curtis to drift into the melancholy that so often consumed him when speaking of his father’s deteriorating health. “He is here and he is well enough. Be grateful for that and spend as much time with him as you can, Curt. In fact, find the boys and take them to your father. He will want to hear what they’ve been doing.”
Curtis sighed heavily and nodded. “He will,” he said. “Those six make him laugh.”
“They make me crazy.”
Curtis smiled weakly at her. “Admit it,” he said. “You love every minute of it when you’re not swatting behinds.”
She tried not to smile but wasn’t doing a very good job of it. “I must have been mad when I agreed to let Rebecca’s sons foster here,” she said. “How is it we have raised such wild animals?”
He shrugged. “I cannot speak for Rebecca, but in our case, look at their parents,” he said. “Our boys were bound to be battle-born, my love. There was no way around it.”
That was true. Elle paused before taking the stairs, looking around the floor, at the landing and the doors. Behind those doors were chambers where memories had been made for the past twelve years.
It had been a wonderful place to bring up a family.
“Wehavehad good times here, haven’t we?” she said.
