War shrugged. “He felt I needed to know,” he said. “He told me all he could, from my mother’s perspective, but when he told me who my father was… he forbade me to become angry with you.”
William watched the tense body language as War twitched, wrapped up in a maelstrom of emotion and bewilderment.
“Do you want to hear of the situation from my perspective?” he asked quietly. “I would be more than willing to tell you.”
War considered that. He really did. “I do not know,” he said after a moment. “As I said, I’ve not really thought on all of this since my father told me. Mayhap I simply do not want to think about it right now. I really do not know. But I suppose I do have one question.”
“What is it?”
“Did you love my mother?”
William sighed heavily, looking at Kieran, who nodded his head faintly. He was giving William permission to tell the man the truth because to lie to him would only bring about more hurt and more lies.
And he didn’t want to lie to him.
He’d been lied to enough.
“Nay,” he finally said. “I was not in love with her. But she was in love with me. She wanted to marry me, so I offered for her hand because… well, as you so eloquently put it, I had bedded her. I thought it was the right thing to do. But her father denied me and sent me away quickly. I was told not to return under any circumstances.”
War didn’t like that answer. He began to rub his big hands together, a nervous gesture, as he processed the conversation.
“Iloved my mother,” he said. “She was a good woman.”
“She was, indeed.”
“Then tell me you did not take advantage of her, or worse,” War snapped. “Tell me everything that happened between you two was because she wanted it to happen. That you both wanted it to happen.”
“Everything that happened between us was of our own free will, I swear it.” William watched him twitch and wring his hands. “Now, I have a question for you. May I?”
War nodded, distracted. “Ask.”
“When were you going to give me your mother’s letter?”
War paused in his twitching and wringing. “I am not certain,” he said. “When the timing was right, I suppose.”
“And what did you hope to gain by it?”
War looked at him sharply. “Gainby it?” he said. “I do not want togainanything by it. I do not want anything from you, de Wolfe. Other than an alliance, I want absolutely nothing from you. I was carrying the letter in my bags in case I decided to tell you everything and for no other reason than that. Beg pardon, my lord, but I want to be perfectly clear… do you mean to suggest I was going to try and wrest money from you with it?”
William was surprised the conversation had taken such a bitter, suspicious turn. “Of course not,” he said. “But the fact is that you are my son by blood. Everyone around us, at least my own men, could see it if I couldn’t. You look like me and you fightlike me, so I am undeniably your father. I suppose I should have asked if you had any expectations after giving me the letter.”
That didn’t help War’s sense of insult. “Expectations?” he repeated, aghast. “What expectations could I possibly have? I was only going to give you the letter because my mother wanted me to and for no other reason than that. I will repeat the fact that I do not want anything from you. I do not expect anything from you. I was perfectly happy not knowing you were my father and it does not make me happy to know that the man I thought was my father was, in fact, tricked into marriage because my mother was pregnant with me. She was pregnant withyourchild.”
He was starting to get agitated so Kieran stepped in. “War,” he said steadily. “William was not implying that you wanted something from him and even if he was, he didn’t mean monetarily. He meant friendship. A pleasant familial relationship. He was simply asking you what your feelings were on the matter and nothing more.”
War’s jaw was ticking furiously as he looked at Kieran, but his ire had William’s ire rising. The young man was hurt and angry and although he said his anger wasn’t directed at William, it was quickly heading in that direction. Angry and disgusted… perhaps disgusted that he was the son of William de Wolfe. Perhaps all of William’s power and reputation was repugnant to him somehow. It was difficult to tell, but William was rapidly growing offended by the stance. In his opinion, there was no call for it.
But War obviously felt differently.
“Let me be plain on my part,” William said as he turned back for his table. “I have six sons. I do not need or want another and if you think I was suggesting that you were here to intimidate me somehow, then you are not as reasonable as I was led to believe. Every word out of my mouth is evidently some kind of slander to you, so it is best if we end this conversation now before we bothsay something we will regret. Be ready to depart on the morrow to Northwood Castle and I shall bid you a good evening.”
War stiffened. “No need, my lord,” he said. “I will be returning to Bamburgh Castle on the morrow. I consider my association with you purely professional and I would appreciate the same consideration in return.”
“You have it.”
“I would also appreciate it if you do not mention our… situation to anyone. I would not want it to get out.”
“Nor would I.”
