Although he made it sound as if she had a choice in this, Brienne understood there was none. If this was what she’d always longed for, why did it ring so hollow now that the option was before her?
“May I have time to consider your offer, my lord?”
The lady gasped at her request and shook her head at Brienne. “Foolish girl! Do you not know what your lord father is giving you? How dare you—”
“Ah, lady,” Lord Hugh interrupted her angry, sputtering words. “As you yourself said, this must come as a shock to her.” He threw a glance at Lady Margaret, who closed her mouth so quickly Brienne almost heard it snap shut. Then he turned back to Brienne and said, “I thought you might want to discuss this with Gavin and Fia, so here they are. Speak to them.” He gestured to the hallway.
Brienne found her parents directly outside the chamber. She stood and bowed to the lord and lady and ran to greet them. Worry darkened their gazes and covered their faces.
“Did you know?” she whispered. They stood before her almost as strangers, not attempting to hold her or draw her close.
“’Tis time for ye to return to Lord Hugh. Ye were never ours to keep,” her father, Gavin, whispered to her. “We had you to ourselves longer than we dared to hope.”
“But you never told me this could happen,” she said. “This has happened in such haste that I know not what to do,” she admitted.
“Ah, lass,” her mother said. “He offers ye everything we cannot. How can ye say nay to that?”
The words were spoken correctly, but everything in their manner and expressions said that they did not want her to accept. Nothing about this felt right, and the only thing she thought was true was Lord Hugh’s words about bastards having their uses. A strange tingling crept up her spine, a warning that all was not as it seemed to be.
She leaned over and lowered her voice. “I cannot trust him. I do not trust him,” she whispered. “If something is wrong, seek out Sir William. He can help.”
Their eyes widened at her words, and they surprised her as well, but they nodded and smiled and bade her farewell. With a nervous glance at Lord Hugh, they kissed her quickly and left. As they walked down the stairway, she felt as though her heart had been torn from her. Taking a deep breath, she prepared to face her future here.
“There now,” Lord Hugh said from just behind her. “We shall make things right between us.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed them in what should have been a reassuring gesture. The feel of it made her even more nervous. Then, releasing her, he called out to his wife and daughter, who remained like statues at the table.
“Margaret, see to it that Alain arranges a suitable chamber and clothing and accoutrements for my daughter. Adelaide, show your sister around the keep so she will find her way.”
Had she flinched at the words or had they? Brienne could feel their hatred even though they controlled their expressions better with each passing moment. As in the village and anywhere on his lands, no one disobeyed Lord Hugh’s commands. He may be dressing his words and deeds up in politeness for now, but Brienne had no doubt that his true nature would show through very quickly.
Brienne did not doubt that she’d been brought here more for her special skill than for this long-ignored claim of fatherhood.
Those under his command worked very efficiently, for by the time they sat at the table again for the noon meal, Brienne had been fitted for several new gowns, shifts, stockings, shoes, and any possible clothing needed. They assigned her a large, bright chamber, and Adelaide had led her through the floors of the keep, pointing out the places she would need to find.
From the impatience that simmered just below his control, an impatience she could feel growing, Brienne knew that Lord Hugh would reveal the real reason he had brought her here very soon.
While the chamber, the clothing, and the excellent food felt very comfortable to her, she wondered what the true price of this acceptance would be . . . and whether she would survive to enjoy these newly found comforts.
ChapterTwelve
William’s horse grew nervous under him.
They’d been sitting at the gates to Yester Castle, waiting for a long time on what would be one of the sunniest, warmest spring days seen in many years. And that meant that sweat poured down under his heavy armor, soaking into the thick padding he wore underneath it. He urged the horse to settle once more and tried to ignore the grumbling of those who accompanied him now. Roger walked his horse up next to him.
“Is this done apurpose?” he asked, lifting his helm from his head. His hair was matted down as well, so William knew none of them was comfortable.
“Certainly it is,” he said quietly. “I have no doubt we are being observed until Lord Hugh wishes to have us enter.”
“But you come from the king! How can he . . . ?” Roger cut off his words as the gate began to open, and he moved back to a position behind William. He could feel his men tense as though ready for battle. This could be just that.
“Sir William,” a man called out as he walked toward them. “Lord Hugh apologizes for this delay and bids you to attend him in the hall. I am Alain, Lord Hugh’s steward. Right this way.”
They rode through the gate and across the bridge that had been dropped into place. There was a second gate before the walls widened around the yard. A tall, square stone keep stood against the south wall and another shorter building stood on the other side. William nodded his head at the smaller one, telling his men to take note of it and everything around them.
Yester Castle had begun as a motte-and-bailey type of construction, but that original part sat outside the walls, still surrounded by the moat. Fed by two streams and a river, the moat would make an attack harder, for it was wide and deep. It was a defensive castle and would withstand a siege for a long time if it had a water source within it. After they passed a well, he knew it would be almost impregnable.
They made their way up to the large keep. Dismounting, they handed their horses off to some boys waiting there and walked up the steps. Alain led them inside and up to the next floor and into a large open room. The great hall, no doubt. There, at the front of the room, in his throne-like chair, sat Lord Hugh de Gifford. As they approached, he stood to greet them.
