“He’s a Lynbridge,” the old man snapped.
“He is the Earl of Stanton, my lord, and Stanton earls are Radcliffes whether it be by choice or by birth,”
Adair retorted.
“Why the hell would King Edward agree to such a thing like that?” Lord Lynbridge demanded of her.
“He agreed because he is my natural father, my lord,”
Adair said. “The man I called my father did not sire me.
Edward of York did. Not that he was any father to me.
John Radcliffe, who loved me as if I were his own flesh, was the father I knew.”
“You’re the king’s brat?” The old man’s bright blue eyes snapped at her. “Well, damn me for a fool! I always wondered what great service John Radcliffe did for the king that he would have an earldom created for him.
But it wasn’t John at all. It was your sweet mother, Jane, who did the king a service.” And Humphrey Lynbridge slapped his knee and laughed heartily. “How long did you know of your paternity, girl?”
“You will speak to me with more courtesy than you have exhibited so far, my lord,” Adair said coldly. “I am not ‘girl’ or ‘lass.’ I am her ladyship the Countess of Stanton. You may address me as such, or because I am wed to your grandson you may call me by my given name, Adair. In future, however, you will not address me as if you were speaking to some servant wench.”
The old man’s mouth fell open with surprise, while beside him Robert Lynbridge swallowed back the laughter that threatened to overcome him. He fixed his gaze upon his younger brother, who was struggling to manage himself as well. “Well, bless my soul,” Lord Lynbridge managed to say, but then he quickly recovered himself. “You have a fine opinion of yourself, my lady,”he told Adair.
“Indeed, my lord, I do,” she agreed pleasantly.
“So my Andrew’s to be a Radcliffe, and no more a Lynbridge,” he said.
“Aye, he is. But with the name comes an earldom, my lord, and that is surely worth the name, is it not?” She looked directly down into the old man’s face.
“Perhaps,” Lord Lynbridge said slowly. “Our families have intermarried for centuries. Did you know that?
John Radcliffe’s grandmother was a Lynbridge. Andrew will sire no fewer sons on you, my lady, for changing his name. At least FitzTudor, for that was your first husband’s name, didn’t give you a child.”
“FitzTudor was not allowed the privilege of my bed,”
Adair told him quietly.
“But my grandson will be,” was the reply shereceived.
“Aye,” Adair agreed. “He will. Andrew and I have come to know each other. I did not know FitzTudor, and besides, he was a fool. Your grandson is not.”
“He died conveniently,” the old man said slyly.
“He died tragically and foolishly,” Adair retorted. “I did not have him murdered. But I did intend on returning him to his father, and demanding an annulment from the church. The king had no right to send me a husband when I had already said nay.”
“The king needs the borders held close,” Lord Lynbridge replied.
“FitzTudor could not have done it for him, and we have peace,” Adair answered.
“There is never real peace in the borders,” was the dour answer.
“His lordship, the Earl of Stanton, will hold this land,” Adair said.
“Aye, my lady, he will,” Lord Lynbridge agreed. “If there is one thing my grandson Andrew knows how to do well, it is fight. There is no better man in a battle than Andrew Lynbridge.”
“Andrew Radcliffe,” she gently corrected him, and he nodded.
“Aye, Andrew Radcliffe.” Then he looked at her and said, “Robert tells me you keep a good table, my lady. I am famished. Am I to sit here starving?”
