“And to you, Fergus.”
One of Keller’s knights went off with him, moving to the eastern wall with plans to carryout. Keller, with a deep sigh he hoped she didn’t see, held out his hand. It would probably be the last time he would be able to do so. When she put her warm palm in his, he stole a split second to enjoy a feeling that would very quickly leave him.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Ready,” she replied.
He took her to the outer concentric wall facing east. The de Rosa army lay beyond, like locusts on the land. It would have been foolish to open the gates and lower the drawbridge, even during the course of a negotiation. It left Pembroke too vulnerable. He continued to hold her hand until they reached the top of the battlements of the great gatehouse. Nervous, feeling slightly ill, Derica looked to the ground below.
In the dusk, she could see her father, her Uncle Lon and her Uncle Alger. They were atop their chargers, clad in colors of Norfolk. It was enough to bring tears to her eyes. She hadn’t realized until that moment how much she had missed them. Keller stood there, watching her, waiting for her to summon both courage and composure.
“I am here, Father,” Derica called from above.
Three helmed heads snapped up. Bertram removed his helm, his face as naked with emotion as Derica had ever seen. It took all of her self-control to keep from turning sentimental.
“Derica,” her father drank in the sight of her. “So you truly are here. Though we had hoped, I did not truly believe.”
“Aglette told me of your demands.”
“I only wish you home and safe, daughter.”
“I am home and I am safe. You must understand that I have no wish to return to Framlingham with you. I have my own life now.”
Bertram was quiet a moment, reflecting on what he was going to say next. The conversation was moving faster than he’d hoped; it had been his wish to move slower, to play on her sentiment, before moving forward with demands. But the Derica that faced him was unwilling to entertain even the slightest pleasantries. He had to admit that he was not surprised.
“I know that le Mon is dead,” he said. “I also know that William Marshal plans to marry you off to some knight, someone I know nothing of. At least I knew something of le Mon.”
“You knew something of him, yet you showed him as little respect as you would the lowliest serf.” Derica could feel herself harden. “How dare you show so little regard for the man I loved.”
“It is my duty to protect you. I believe I was attempting to do that.”
“As you can see, I do not need protecting. I am safe, healthy and reasonably content. Garren took the best of care of me, and my future husband is continuing the tradition. It is my wish that you return to Framlingham and leave me to my new life.”
Bertram’s stubborn streak, seen so strongly in his daughter, came forth. “I can promise you a wonderful life at Framlingham. Norfolk has graciously arranged a betrothal that will promise you comfort and security the rest of your life. I have met and approve of this man.”
Derica thought it ironic that she had more than her share of betrothals now that Garren was presumed dead. “Who is he? A mercenary with plenty of money and no political connections?”
“The nephew of the Duke of Savoy, Alessandro Donatello Ettore di Savoy. He is very wealthy and well-connected in Rome.”
Derica was silent a moment. When she finally spoke, it was with bitterness.
“You do not want me to marry a man of my choosing, but a man of your choosing so that you may save your foolish pride.” She shook her head, sadly. “Go home, Father. Go home and forget you ever had a daughter.”
“Derica, please,” her father pleaded. “I only desire what is best for you, truly. By running away with le Mon, you severely limited your choices of a mate. Savoy is an excellent match and willing to overlook your female indiscretions.”
“Go home,” Derica exploded at him. “I have no desire to be swept under the rug because you are ashamed of me. If I had it to do over again a thousand times, I would do it the same way every single time. Nothing you can say will change how I feel about Garren.”
“You’re tired. You have been running too long, without the comforts of home and family. I can forgive your mistake, but I cannot forgive blind stupidity. Come home with me now, please, before any more damage is done.”
It was like talking to a wall. “I realize this is foreign to your thinking and God forgive me to saying this to you, but this is a battle you have lost, Father. With all of your wealth and strength, you could not win against me or against Garren. You must understand that.”
“Derica, listen to me. I…”
Derica didn’t hear the end of the conversation; she had turned away from the wall, in tears and anger. Keller chippedoff commands to his sergeant before following her. He took hold of her elbow, helping her down the stairs so that she would not trip in her heavy gown. When they reached the bottom, she was wiping her face, struggling to regain her composure.
“I fear I have put Pembroke in a bad situation,” she apologized. “My father will lay siege, of that I am sure. If you want to lower me over the west side and let me take my chances, then I understand.”
Keller watched her, every gesture, and every move like fluid poetry. She was graceful and ladylike even in turmoil.
