Dragonblade Trilogy - 02 - Island of Glass (7 page)

The scroll spoke of the Holy
Grail, the priceless object used during the last supper and eventually used to
capture the blood of Christ as he was dying upon the cross. Lady Aubrielle had
been fascinated by the old Latin script, spending many long hours reading and
translating the contents. How the Order of the Dark Angel knew of the scroll,
he did not know. He was only aware that they knew of it, and that Lady Aubrielle
was in grave danger.

***

“You are positive?”

“There is no doubt. The physic
says he has been dead for several hours. He more than likely passed away some
time during the night.”

Kenneth exhaled slowly. The news
was devastating. It was dawn and Max had summoned him from the dungeon with no
hint of what he was about to fall privy to. Garson de Montgomery de Mortimer,
1st Earl of Wrexham, was dead. Kenneth felt as if the wind had been knocked out
of him.

Lucius knew the feeling well. He,
too, was stunned. Though the earl had been inordinately exhausted yesterday,
they had all assumed it had been because of the Lady Aubrielle’s escapades. 
They hadn’t considered that it was something more serious. Now the reality was
upon them.

“You realize what this means?”
Lucius whispered.

Kenneth knew. “Lady Aubrielle is
his heiress. The castle and titles pass to her now.”

Lucius let out a hiss. He was
trying to keep his voice down so the household servants didn’t hear, but it was
difficult. “Christ, of all the…” he could hardly contain himself. “Kirk is far
too powerful for her to govern. The girl has been locked up in a monastery for
the majority of her life. What in the hell does she know about governing?”

“It doesn’t matter what she does,
or does not, know. She has now inherited the Wrexham earldom and whatever her
bidding, we must comply.”

Even more shocking than the
earl’s death, the thought of submitting to Lady Aubrielle’s commands was
horrifying. Lucius was beside himself.

“She is in no position to govern
this castle, nor this land,” Lucius countered. “I will send world to the king
immediately. He must know of the situation.”

Kenneth couldn’t argue, but
somehow, he felt as if he was betraying Lady Aubrielle by undermining her
inheritance. “It will take time for the king to assess our needs and send aid.
He may even come himself to evaluate the situation. Kirk governs a critical
portion of the Welsh Marches. She is strategic and strong.” He crossed his
arms, lifting an eyebrow at his captain. “So what do we do? We can no longer
keep her in the vault. She is our lady and must be informed of the situation.”

Everett, Reid and Bradley entered
the second floor at that moment. Lucius had summoned the knights and quickly, and
quietly, informed them of the earl’s passing. Their faces registered different
phases of shock as the gravity of the situation settled. Not only was the Earl
dead, but Kirk was a mighty castle with a mighty army, now without a leader.
There was an entire world of implication Wrexham’s death had opened the
floodgates to.

“What are we going to do?”
Everett directed the question more at Kenneth. “We have over one thousand
men-at-arms. Who will lead us now?”

“Lady Aubrielle has inherited the
earldom,” Kenneth replied steadily. “Kirk is now her holding.”

The knights were aware of the
logical confusion, but still, the truth was shocking. A glance at Lucius told
them that the man was stricken. He was the captain and should have been able to
hold himself in check, but his control was shaken. Since no one seemed to have
anything more to say, Kenneth took charge and went to free Lady Aubrielle from
the vault. He suspected she might be interested in what he had to say.

***

“But you do not understand. I do
not want it.”

Kenneth stood in the small,
cramped chamber that Lady Aubrielle had occupied when she had first arrived at
Kirk.  He was facing off with a surprisingly angry young woman.

“Want it or not, you have
inherited it nonetheless. Kirk and the earldom are yours.”

Aubrielle scowled at him. Dirty
and disheveled from her night in the vault, she was in an awful mood. News of
the earl’s death had momentarily saddened her, but the additional news of her
inheritance had sparked a rage.

“Not if I refuse,” she said. “No
one can force a title and lands on me.”

Kenneth didn’t understand her
reluctance. “Anyone in England would be pleased and privileged to inherit this
earldom. Do you understand the power and wealth you now have? One thousand men
await your bidding, my lady, including me.”

She knew that, but the thought
truly hadn’t occurred to her until he mentioned it. She looked at the big blond
knight, remembering his comforting presence in the vault, struggling against
the pleasant thoughts it provoked.  He wasn’t the pleasant type. The thought of
commanding him, though not disagreeable, was nonetheless interesting

She forced herself to calm and
take in the situation.  Arguing with St. Héver would not change facts; she was
now Countess of Wrexham. Although she’d always known that, for lack of
children, she was by rights Garson’s heir, it never occurred to her that
someday she would actually inherit everything. It wasn’t something she had ever
wanted or dreamed of. Now, she realized it would make her a hugely marriageable
prospect, as her husband would inherit the earldom by marriage. She wanted a
man to have this place, a great warring fortress with a thousand man army. She
had no use for it. All she wanted was to go to Glastonbury and complete her
quest.

Marriage.
It would be the only way to be
rid of her burden, for she simply couldn’t sign over her inheritance. The laws
of the land prohibited it. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see St. Hèver’s
silent form. She knew he was waiting for her to start fighting with him again.
But fighting was the last thing on her mind.

“May I ask you a question?” she
said.

“Of course, my lady.”

“What is your lineage?”

His ice blue eyes clouded with
confusion. “My lineage?”

“Aye; your family. Where do you
come from?”

“I come from Northumberland, my
lady.”

“That is where you were born. But
what of your father and mother? Who were they?”

He did not answer right away. He
was attempting to figure out why she was asking personal questions. Aubrielle
saw his hesitation.

“If you are to serve me, I must
know about you.”

He conceded her request. “My
father was a knight for the Earl of Northumberland. My family has served
Northumberland for four generations.”

“Was he from noble blood?”

“On his mother’s side. She was a
cousin to the House of Lancaster.”

“And your mother?”

His hesitance seemed to grow
stronger. “I never knew my mother. She perished in childbirth.”

“But what of her lineage? Was she
of noble blood, too?”

It was apparent she would not
give up. In fact, he knew from experience that she would be quite persistent
until he told her what she wanted to know.

“Her name was Cassandra. She was
a granddaughter of Princess Blanche, eleventh daughter of Henry the Third. That
also makes me a cousin to the Earl of Carlisle, Tate de Lara, who is the illegitimate
first-born son of Edward the First.

Aubrielle’s eyes widened. “You
are Plantagenet?”

“Three generations removed.”

The idea that had occurred to Aubrielle
earlier suddenly took full bloom. But she had to be clever about it; St. Héver
was no fool.

“Sir Kenneth, may I ask you
another question?”

“If you must, my lady.”

She smiled at his reply; he
seemed so resistant. “You said that anyone in England would be pleased and
privileged to receive this earldom, did you not?”

“I did, my lady.”

“And you are sworn to obey my
commands, as your lady?”

He knew instantly where she was
leading. Or, at least, he thought he did. “You cannot give me this earldom, my
lady.”

“But I can order you to marry me
and thereby transfer title and power to you.”

He didn’t see her proposal coming
until she had said it. Instead of instant refusal, he actually stopped to ponder
the idea. It was entirely out of character that he should even remotely
entertain it. As much as the thought of being married to her enticed him on too
many levels to acknowledge, he knew that he could not.

“Out of the question, my lady.”

“But why?’ she moved towards him,
her lovely face anxious. “You are perfect. You are descended from royalty. In
fact, you are a distant cousin to the king. He would not refuse the match. Is
the means by which you inherit the earldom so unattractive to you?”

For some reason, he was having
difficulty looking at her. He turned away, pacing towards the hearth simply to
have some breathing room. “The means by which to achieve this is perhaps the
most attractive aspect of it, have no doubt.”

“Then why do you refuse? Do you
not want to be the second Earl of Wrexham?”

He crossed his arms and looked at
her. “Why do you offer this? Surely you do not wish to marry me.”

She couldn’t tell if he was
angered by the idea or pleased by it. She was careful to explain. “It would be
a marriage of convenience, I assure you. I would not expect you to perform the
duties of a husband, physically or emotionally. The marriage would be in title
only, simply so I would not have to shoulder the burden of this vast earldom. I
would not interfere with your rule or your life.”

He didn’t know why her words
disappointed him so. He had thought he had made it clear that the marriage
aspect did not distress him. Obviously, it distressed her. He was ashamed that
he had revealed his thoughts on the matter, embarrassed that she had not
responded in kind.

“I shall not be a convenience for
you.” He moved for the door. “If that will be all, my lady, I shall beg my
leave.”

“No, wait,” she pleaded.

He paused at the door, his eyes
like ice. “What is your wish, my lady?”

Her expression softened. In spite
of their rough beginnings, Kenneth St. Héver had shown an inordinate amount of
kindness to her. Even when she was in the vault, he had never berated her or
been cruel.  He had spent the entire night by her side, making sure she was
comfortable. All she had ever shown him was spitefulness.  She was coming to
feel very sorry for her actions.

“Please do not go,” she asked
softly.

The ice in his gaze melted
somewhat. “What do you wish?”

“I wish for you to marry me and
inherit the earldom. You may consider it a reward for all of your years of
service. You may consider it my gift to you for the kindness you have shown me.
If I said this was a marriage of convenience, I simply meant that you should
feel no obligation towards me.”

Her gentleness surprised him. He
had no idea she was capable of it. He knew he should have stuck to his
instincts and left the room, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“I was always under the
impression that it was a man’s duty to offer a proposal of marriage, my lady,”
he said quietly. “I have never heard of a woman offering.”

She smiled faintly. “As you have
said, I am somewhat unconventional.”

He gazed at her, studying her
fine features. He was attracted to her, of that there was little doubt. He was
coming to see that, when properly handled, she could be sweet and gentle. The
fact that he would inherit an earldom if he married her was of little
consequence; he had no great aspirations. It was strange for a knight not to
have any and he knew that. If he married her, it would be because he wanted to,
not because he was attempting to gain an empire.

But the fact remained that
although he admired her and found her attractive, she was eccentric, bold and
headstrong.  He was used to complete order in his life and Aubrielle’s proposal
had come too fast, too unexpectedly. It was disruptive to that order.

“My lady, though your offer is
most flattering and generous, I am not sure it is right or even appropriate for
me to accept,” he struggled to be tactful. “Wrexham is a large and strategic
earldom. The king may have other ideas for a marital match, someone of higher
ranking and power.”

The smile on Aubrielle’s face
faded.  She turned away from him. “Of course, you are correct,” she said
quietly. “Contrary to what you may think of me, Sir Kenneth, I am not a fool. I
am fully aware of the responsibilities I have inherited. I suppose my offering
marriage is simply a way for me to discard the responsibilities that I do not
want by forcing them on you. You, however, have a choice in the matter and are
fully justified in rejecting that which you do not want.”

“It is not a matter of what I
want,” he said. “It is a matter of the correct course of action in this
situation.”