Beckett’s funeral changed everything.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Good heavens,” Diarasaid, throwing her hands up into the air. “I swear to you that I am not armed, my lord. I have no weapons. May I pass?”
She had just walked into the ladies’ solar of Lioncross Abbey and straight into an ambush. She’d made the mistake of traveling alone because Iris wasn’t feeling well, so she’d left the woman in her bed. That meant she was moving about unattended, and currently, she was being held hostage by three small boys, sons of Roi’s middle sister, Rebecca. The boys had wooden swords in their hands, all of them pointed at Diara, and they were unfortunately being egged on by older cousins, sons of Roi’s youngest sister, a woman known to the family as Honey. Diara had met most of the de Lohr family over the past few days, with all of them coming to Lioncross for Beckett’s funeral but now remaining for Roi’s marriage.
That was where there was some trouble.
Not with Roi’s siblings, for all of them were very kind to Diara, and she felt happy and comfortable with them. It had taken her about a day to endear herself to the brothers with her sweet manner and witty conversation, and the women followed closely. Roi had four sisters—Christin, Brielle, Rebecca, andHoney, but Diara hadn’t yet met Brielle. The others, however, were positively delightful. Christin had seemed particularly difficult to win over because she was very protective of Roi, but in the end, even she gave her approval.
Then came the grandchildren of Christopher and Dustin.
There were quite a few of them, from toddlers up to grown men. It was the grown men that Diara was having some difficulty with, in particular, Honey’s sons. Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius de Shera were close to Beckett’s age, and the boys had all grown up together, meaning they weren’t very happy about Uncle Roi marrying Beckett’s intended. They’d been grumbling about it, something most of the adults except their mother had ignored, and Honey had told them to shut their lips or feel her wrath.
That wasn’t exactly how Diara wanted to win them over.
Now, she was standing in an unexpected position in the ladies’ solar with Rebecca’s young sons trying to ambush her. She could see Gallus, Maximus, and Tiberius back in the shadows of the solar, drinking and snorting at the antics. Diara was fairly certain she wouldn’t get any help from them, so she tried to reason with the three hooligans in front of her—seven-year-old twins and another boy who had seen five years.
Vaughn, James, and Westley had her cornered.
“You may not pass!” Vaughn barked. “What do you have?”
Diara had a spool of thread in her hand, and she held it out so they could see it. “I’ve come to look for red thread,” she said. “Your grandmother told me she keeps it in here. May I go and find it?”
Vaughn frowned and took the spool from her, inspecting it. “Don’t you have any money?”
Diara shook her head. “I am sorry, I do not.”
That seemed to confuse the older boys, who looked at each other. “But we need money,” James said. “Bring us some money and we will give you back your spool.”
Diara shook her head. “I’m afraid I have no money,” she said. “May I have my spool back?”
The boys weren’t sure what to do at this point. They looked at one another, puzzled, and the five-year-old finally set his sword aside and started picking his nose. He’d quickly grown bored of the ambush. As he wandered off, leaving the twins to decide Diara’s fate, one of older cousins emerged from the shadows.
Diara recognized Tiberius de Shera on sight. He was tall and slender, with gleaming eyes that always suggested he was in on a joke. She’d been introduced to him prior to Beckett’s funeral, but he hadn’t spoken to her since that time. In fact, he seemed to make a point of staying away from her. He reached down to pick up the wooden sword that the five-year-old had dropped before looking at Diara in a rather appraising manner.
“I think she does have money,” he said, speaking to the twins. “Her father is the Earl of Cheltenham. He’s very rich.”
The twins looked at Diara in surprise. “Youdohave money?” Vaughn asked, outraged that she would lie to him. “Where is it? I want some!”
But Diara shook her head. “I do not have any with me,” she said. “I did not bring any money, so I’m afraid I cannot give you any. Moreover, I would not give you money to reward you for your thievery. It is a naughty thing that you are doing.”
“So is stealing another husband,” Tiberius said, the gleam in his eyes fading.
“Ty,” one of the men behind him said. “Enough.”
“Nay, it isnotenough,” Tiberius said, his eyes fixed on Diara. “Youdoknow that Beckett was supposed to be your husband, don’t you?”
Diara was immediately on her guard with what sounded like an accusation. “Of course I do.”
“Then why take his father?” Tiberius demanded. “I heard what happened. I heard that your father came here anddemanded Uncle Roi marry you in place of Beckett. Why did you do it?”
Diara could have flamed at the young knight, who was quite a bit taller and larger than she was, but she kept her composure. She didn’t want to fight with an emotional young man who clearly misunderstood the situation.
“I did not do anything,” she said evenly. “It was my father’s doing, without any prompting from me. I know you are asking because you loved your cousin, and I respect that. It must be wonderful to have family and cousins that you love so dearly. But I did not have anything to do with the marriage contract or what happened with it. Women usually don’t.”
Tiberius hadn’t been prepared for that polite answer to his nasty query. He turned to look at his brothers seated behind him, but they gave him no indication of what they were thinking. In fact, one of them simply looked away as if he wanted nothing to do with whatever was going on. Seeing he had little support in the matter, Tiberius returned his attention to Diara.
