Strode wiped the blood trickling out of his mouth. “It is my duty to serve your uncle.”
“And who does he serve?” Matthew asked.
Strode knew better than to lie. “Henry Tudor.”
If there had been any doubt lingering in her mind about the truth of Strode’s involvement, it was dashed in that moment. “I trusted you,” she whispered, her anguish evident. “You were like family to me. How could you do this?”
Strode did not have an answer. It was apparent that he wasn’t particularly spiteful or hostile towards her; he was simply doing as he was told. Mark picked him up roughly, shoving him at Luke with the order to take him to the vault. Patrick de Russe followed Luke and the prisoner from the solar, leaving a somber group behind.
De Russe was nursing his wine while the others stood around, not knowing what to say. It was clear what had happened, and even more clear what needed to happen. Matthew leaned down next to his wife, taking her hand gently.
“Perhaps you would like to go and rest now,” he said softly.
She was shaken but not senseless. She felt more anger than anything. But she appreciated his kindness, marveling that thehands that so tenderly held her could have been so brutal against Strode.
“I… I still need to collect my cases for London,” she tried to focus on something else, anything but what she had just witnessed. “Perhaps you can send a few servants to carry them down. Strode usually.…”
She trailed off, rolling her eyes as she realized that Strode would no longer help her with anything. She put her hand on his arm.
“What are you going to do with him? And with Jezebel?”
He patted her hand, leading her towards the door. “I am going to send them back to your uncle with a message.”
“What message?”
“That is for me to determine.” He pushed the door open for her, the stairs to the third floor a few feet away. “Go and rest now, love. I shall be up shortly.”
She did not argue. Her mind was rather full of things at the moment and she needed time to reflect. The moment she set foot in the foyer, the dogs in the hall came rushing towards her, encircling her with their happy, hairy wagging.
Matthew watched with a grin on his face; he’d not given much notice as to how much the dogs liked her, but he was starting to. And she was becoming more accustomed to them; at least she wasn’t kicking them away as she’d done in the past. She even reached down to gingerly pet the giant wolfhound on the top of the head. Tongues began licking at her and she pulled back. As she ascended the stairs, the wriggling pack followed.
When Matthew went to her chamber an hour later to see how she was faring, he found seven dogs sleeping contentedly outside of her door.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Rather than invitean uprising as de Russe had suggested, Matthew took his own advice and separated the Whitewell men from his army, corralled them in an area of the bailey that was heavily watched by Wellesbourne men, and announced that he was aware of the orders from Lord Ryesdale.
He further informed them that their leader was in the vault and there was no other option for them but to swear fealty to The White Lord or die. With Gaston de Russe and his army of cutthroats hovering nearby, there wasn’t one man from Whitewell that did not believe him.
Fealty during this time to the foot soldier was nothing more than swearing loyalty to the man who provided ample food and shelter. It wasn’t a conviction as much as it was with the nobility; therefore, the decision was fairly simple. The seasoned soldiers of Whitewell knew when they were defeated; they could see it all around them, in the faces of de Russe’s men, and in the faces of the brothers from Wellesbourne.
When Matthew promised them new weapons should they join his army, it was a decision made all the more uncomplicated. Most swore their allegiance without further prodding. Those that refused were put in the vault with Strode and with that, Matthew considered the situation peacefully resolved. It was a much better state of affairs than it could have been.
Settling the situation and putting closure on it allowed him to focus on the task at hand. He’d been trying to get to London for quite some time and would be put off no longer. Unlikesome, Matthew had no problem traveling after dark. No one in their right mind would dare attack the army of The White Lord, made even more powerful now that The Dark Knight rode with him. It was therefore an unconcerned task to have the army and ancillary units readied by early afternoon for departure.
Loading up his wife, however, had been something of a process. She was convinced that she needed at least six trunks out of the nine she had brought with her to Wellesbourne. Nothing Matthew could say could dissuade her. Moreover, she insisted that Caroline go to London as well when it was Mark’s practice to leave his wife behind.
It created something of a stir; Mark did not want Caroline along, probably because he could not openly pursue the ladies as he liked to do. But Matthew did not tell Alixandrea that; it wasn’t his way of doing things and furthermore he did not think she needed to hear it. What his brother did was his own business, so long as it did not affect his performance as a knight.
Early afternoon was passing into midafternoon as Alixandrea finished packing her last two cases. These were the ones that held her undergarments, belts and jewels and were most important. Matthew stood by the door with Luke and Patrick, waiting with increasing impatience for his wife to finish. Mark, Caroline, John, Adam and Gaston were already down in the ward, waiting. Everyone was ready to go but Alixandrea. Matthew finally sent Patrick down to tell Gaston to move out; by the time the wagons moved at the end of the column, they would be in the ward with the cases loaded on board.
“My lady,” Matthew said with more patience than he felt. “We are out of time. Close the cases so we can load them.”
Dressed in a cardinal red surcoat with a gold kirtle and dual-color sash around her slender waist, her lovely hair was pulled back at the nape of her neck to keep it out of her way. She fussed with a twisted belt, finally giving up and tucking it backin the case. Around her, the dogs had somehow made it into the chamber and they lay in various positions around her feet and on the bed. Alixandrea moved around them as if she did not even notice them.
“You can take this one.” She slammed the lid of the case and Luke immediately moved forward to pick it up. She watched him heave it onto his broad shoulders. “Be careful with that one, Luke. The stays on the lid sometimes come undone. I do not want my pretty things all over the dirt.”
“Aye, my lady.”
