Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

H e'd made a shepherd's sling and Emile had helped him.

The real reason Aeron had wanted to go to the stable where Emile was working wasn't because Emile was going to show him something about hooves. He didn't care about hooves.

Emile was helping him fashion a simple, but painful, weapon.

It was easy, really. Two strips of leather and a cloth cup in between them for the rock, or dung, or anything else one wanted to shoot across the yard. Put a stone in it, whirl it above your head to gain momentum, and then release one side of it and the projectile went sailing. Emile had helped Aeron perfect it with the caveat that he not use it on the horses, and Aeron promised he wouldn't. But he never promised he wouldn't use it on people, birds, goats, and anything else that moved.

Some of the male servants around the manse were the first to feel the sting of a pebble slung by Aeron as he practiced. There was one old man in particular who wasn't very nice that Aeron took special aim at. The old servant felt stings to his cheek, neck, back, and the back of his head, finally realizing that Aeron was shooting things at him when he saw the boy duck behind a pile of straw in the yard. Then he went on the hunt, but Aeron was too fast.

He found other people to shoot at.

Stefan was one of them. He was at the gatehouse, waiting for Torran, when he felt something hit him in the right buttock. He thought he might have been stung by a bee until he felt another sting to his left shoulder and saw the pebble fall to the ground. Realizing he was under attack, he turned around and spied Aeron where he shouldn't be—on the wall walk of the manor—and his eyes narrowed. He fully intended to find the lad and discover what was going on when one of the servants, who had been out on the road, told him that a rider was approaching. That had Stefan heading out of the manor, going to the edge of the road as Torran came cantering down the avenue.

Beneath the sun and scattered clouds, with a light breeze blowing from the south, Torran rode in on a big black and white warhorse, which was difficult to miss, and Stefan waited until the man slowed down before lifting his hand in greeting.

"Welcome back," he said. "You made it before the rains came."

He turned to look at the dark clouds coming in from the south, pushed along by the wind, and Torran came to a halt, dismounting his sweaty steed.

"Indeed, I have," he said loudly for Stefan's benefit. "How have things been here in my absence? Peaceful, I hope."

Stefan nodded as they began to head toward the entry gate. "Peaceful enough," he said. "But I should warn you that the moment you go through that gate, you will probably be under attack."

Torran looked at him in puzzlement. "Attack?" he said. "From whom?"

Stefan fought off a grin. "From a boy who has learned how to throw rocks," he said. "I, myself, have been a victim today, and I know he is hiding near the gate, so I would be prepared if I were you."

Torran found himself looking at the gate, imagining Aeron lying in wait for him. "Is that so?" he muttered. "I cannot say that I am surprised, but as we know, an enemy must be subdued. I will enter first to distract him. You will come in after me and discover his position. Capture him and I promise that you will get the first opportunity to spank him."

Stefan's grin broke through. "You cannot know how I have wanted to do that over the past few days."

Torran started to laugh. "Aye, I think I do," he said. They'd reached the gate at that point, and Torran held out a hand to keep him Stefan going any further. "Do not let my sacrifice be in vain, please."

Stefan chuckled, watching Torran go through the gate and continue toward the stable as if quite oblivious to the world around him. At that point, Stefan crept up to the edge of the gate and peered through, waiting for the pebbles to come flying. It wasn't a long wait—Aeron stood up from behind the ladder he'd been crouched behind and Stefan watched him hurl a pebble at Torran with a slingshot.

Stefan was on the move.

As Torran had predicted, Aeron was focused on him as he entered the grounds and moved for the stable. As Stefan pursued Aeron, the boy got off two pebbles that crashed into Torran's arm. The third one hit the horse, who started at the sting. But Torran kept walking. He didn't look to see where the projectiles were coming from. He pretended he didn't even feel them. It was enough of a puzzlement to Aeron that he grew sloppy. He came away from his hiding place and started to pursue.

And that was when Stefan grabbed him.

Torran grinned when he heard a yell go up, echoing off the walls of the manor. He'd reached the stable yard at that point, turning around to see Stefan entering the yard with a squirming child under his arm. Torran handed his horse off to Emile, who looked quite puzzled at Aeron being hauled around sideways under Stefan's arm. Torran, however, faced Stefan and Aeron as they closed in on him.

"I see some things never change," he said, looking at Aeron. "We meet again under less than pleasant circumstances, lad."

Aeron could see another spanking in his future. "It was an accident," he said quickly. "I was aiming for birds and then Stefan grabbed me. I did not mean to hit you!"

"How do you know you hit me?" Torran said. "I never said anything about your hitting me."

Aeron knew he'd been caught in a lie. He could tell by Torran's voice that the man knew exactly what he'd been up to. He struggled to free himself from Stefan's grip.

"It was an accident," he repeated. "Let me go!"

Torran looked at Stefan, a smile playing on his lips, and nodded his head. Stefan immediately put down the child, who promptly turned around and tried to kick him. Stefan shoved him back by the head and Aeron ended up on his bottom.

"You pushed me!" he accused.

Torran snapped his fingers at the boy, catching his attention. "Enough," he said quietly. " You know that you were throwing rocks at me and I know you were throwing rocks at me. We all know. The responsible thing to do would be to admit it and accept your punishment."

Stefan held up the shepherd's sling he'd taken off Aeron, who made a face as he stood up and brushed himself off.

"I wanted to try it out," Aeron said, weakly defending himself. "I will become very good with practice."

"Possibly, but not with that one," Torran said. "That one now belongs to Stefan, and if I see you with another shepherd's sling anytime soon, my hand will become acquainted with your backside again. Is this clear?"

Aeron's face was in a permanent frown. "Can I buy it back, at least?"

"With what?"

"I'll earn money and buy it back."

Torran wasn't going to argue with the child. He was more than eager to see the boy's sister and the delay was making him irritable, so he pointed at Stefan.

"You will have to negotiate this with him," he said. "I must speak to your sister."

That kept Aeron with Stefan, and even as Torran headed for the manse, he could hear Aeron's high-pitched pleas and Stefan's low replies. He had to grin, however. Aeron was, if nothing else, persistent and clever. That would serve him well as a knight someday.

If he lived that long.

Entering the manse from the kitchen, Torran passed through the darkened corridor that opened into the dining hall and then the entry beyond. He could smell vinegar as he passed through. He was about to take the stairs when he heard a voice from the solar.

"Welcome home, my lord."

He paused, foot on the bottom step, as Andia emerged from the solar. She was dressed in a lovely blue gown, a smile on her lips in greeting. Torran couldn't help but smile in return as he beheld her, that beautiful woman who now belonged to him. He could still hardly believe it. He could only hope she felt the same way. Switching direction, he headed for her, but the closer he drew, the more tongue-tied he became. That lovely face was smiling up at him, and as he came near, he did the first thing that came to mind.

He threw his arms around her and kissed her.

Instead of being shocked by his behavior, Andia seemed to welcome it. She wrapped her arms around his neck and responded feverishly as he picked her up, carrying her into the solar before finally setting her down somewhere near his father's table. All the while, his mouth was fused to hers and his heart was beating wildly. Heat flowed through his veins, setting him on fire. The more he kissed her, the more he wanted.

It was a hell of a greeting.

"Would it be too forward of me to tell you that I have missed you these past days?" he murmured against her mouth.

"Nay," she breathed as he kissed a fiery path down her neck. "It would not be too forward. I have missed you too."

He stopped kissing her and looked at her. "Have you truly?"

She nodded. "Of course I have," she said. "In case you've not yet realized, I'm rather fond of you."

He stared at her a moment before a smile creased his face. "I have never had anyone tell me that."

"I will tell you it often if you will let me."

Grinning, he kissed her once more before taking her hand and pulling her over to a bench that was in front of three arched windows that faced over the yard. He sat her down before planting himself next to her, holding her hand and smiling like a fool. She giggled at his expression, and then he laughed, and they ended up laughing together and having no idea why, only that they were happy to be together again.

He kissed her hand before speaking.

"I come with news from Henry," he said. "I pray that it good news to you, because it was to me."

She cocked her head curiously. "What news?"

There was a lot to tell her, so he tried to figure out where to start. He'd planned it all out in his mind on the ride from Westminster, but once he looked in her eyes, all of his planning flew out the window.

Therefore, he started at the beginning.

"As you know, the very reason you're at Lockwood is because I was taking you and Aeron to Henry," he said. "But there have been some changes. You will not be going to Westminster."

"I won't?"

"Nay. You will staying here."

Andia's eyes widened in relief. "Truly?" she gasped. "Praise God, Torran. I cannot tell you how happy I am to hear that. But why did he make that decision? What changed his mind about Aeron and I going to Westminster?"

"He discussed the situation with men he trusts," Torran said. "Canterbury was one of them. I think he was your biggest advocate. He convinced Henry to be merciful when others wanted to see you made an example of. Truly, the past few days in London have been… intense. There are several warlords in London right now and everyone has an opinion about how punishment should be dispensed."

She seemed to lose some of her joy. "Then he has decided to punish us?"

Torran shook his head. "Nay," he said. "But you are to be married to a man loyal to Henry. This man is also to be given the Earldom of Ashford and will become your brother's guardian. Henry feels that it is the best way to ensure you and your brother remain loyal to the Crown."

Her joyful expression vanished completely. "Aeron will not be Earl of Ashford?"

"Nay," he said quietly, seeing her distress. "That is in punishment for your father's actions. It could have been much worse, Andie. Stripping Aeron of the title is harsh, but it is not painful. He will not suffer. And Henry has ordered him to Canterbury to foster, where he will learn to become a knight. He will have a good life, I promise."

Andia had to absorb all of that. It was a lot to take. "But he will be safe, won't he?" she asked.

"Very safe," Torran said. "Canterbury will watch out for him and ensure he receives a good education and good training. This is an excellent solution, Andie. At least he will not spend years in captivity, wasting away. Please trust me on this."

She nodded, though she clearly wasn't happy about it. "I do," she said. "I promise, I do. You have always been honest and kind. But… you said I am to be married?"

"Aye."

"To whom?"

"To me."

A look of pure astonishment washed over her features and her mouth flew open. " You ?" she gasped.

He grinned. "Aye," he said. "Me. Are you pleased?"

Her answer was to burst into tears, and, suddenly, he was concerned. Was she not happy? Did she not want to marry him? Doubts filled him until she lifted her head and he could see that she was smiling. With tears coursing down her cheeks, she was smiling.

"You told me not to give up on my dreams," she sobbed. "You told me I must have faith. I did not have faith, Torran, I will admit it. I felt like I was a feather in the wind, at the mercy of Henry, but now… I am to marry you ? Truly?"

"Truly."

More tears, but also some laughter. She put her hands on his face, holding it gently. "You are a dream I never knew I had," she said, sniffling. "I cannot believe… He truly said that? We are to be married?"

Torran laughed softly, realizing she was happy about the situation because she kept asking if it was the truth. "Aye, dearest," he said sweetly. "We are to be married."

"When?"

"As soon as you wish."

Andia erupted out of her chair, throwing herself at Torran and nearly knocking him off his seat. But she was laughing and crying at the same time, kissing his face and then leaping to her feet to spin in circles as she giggled. Torran watched her, feeling her joy because it matched his own.

"Tell me I am not dreaming," Andia begged softly. "Tell me this is real."

"It is real, love."

She stopped spinning and looked at him. "But how do you feel about it?" she said. "I should have asked you from the first, and I am sorry that I did not. Are you happy?"

"Never happier in my life."

She was smiling at him, tears still in her eyes, but she scooted over to him and sat down, looking at him rather eagerly.

"Then I must tell you something," she said. "I… I have had suitors before, men who have asked my father for my hand. But I did not love them. I only found them pleasant and companionable. I did not feel for them as I feel for you. I have not felt for anyone the way I feel for you."

He smiled at her rather tame confession. "You are a beautiful young woman," he said. "I did not think that would go unnoticed by men of marriageable age."

"You are not troubled by it?"

"Of course not. But if they come around you from this point forward, I will kill them."

She smiled. "They will not," she said. "There were only two of them, knights at Okehampton."

"Clearly, your father denied them."

She nodded, her smile fading. "He did not want me to marry," she said. "He wanted me to be devoted to Aeron, always. He wanted my entire life to revolve around my brother, only to serve him."

Torran grunted. "That is an unhappy prospect," he said. "And a fate you do not deserve."

Her smile returned. "But it must have been God's will," she said. "My father denied those men because God knew you were in my future. All I had to do was wait."

The warmth in Torran's eyes waned. Since she was confessing her past, as mild as it was, he knew he should do the same. A woman deserved to know whom she was marrying, but he had to admit that he was apprehensive to tell her, hoping it wouldn't douse her excitement. Truth be told, he wasn't looking forward to it but it had to be done. If she was to be his wife, inevitably, she would hear things about him, and he wanted anything sordid to come from his lips.

"Speaking of God," he muttered, "there are a few things you should know about me, also."

Andia reached out, taking his hands in hers. "Of course," she said. "What is it?"

Torran found himself looking at her hands in his. He had very big, very rough hands. Hands that killed men, hands that fought in battle. Her soft, pale hands were such a tremendous contrast, perhaps reflecting the two of them and the lives they had lived. Hers had been relatively uneventful.

His had been full of battles.

"I am older than you," he said. "More than likely fairly significantly."

"I have seen twenty and one summers."

He smiled ironically. "I have seen thirty and six."

She smiled. "That is not too terribly old."

He chuckled. "It feels like it sometimes," he said. "The point is that I have lived longer than you have and, therefore, have done more with my life. You should know that I never intended to wed."

"Why not?"

"Because I used to be a priest."

Andia's eyes widened. "You were ?" she said in shock. "But… but you aren't any longer?"

He shook his head. "Nay," he said. "It is not as scandalous as it seems. Many priests are former knights and many knights are former priests because the knighthood is built around the worship of God. We are expected to be pious. For some men, however, the priesthood does not remain their path."

She was listening seriously. "And you chose to change your path?"

He lifted her hand, kissing it gently. "It was not exactly my choice," he said. "I will be honest with you—I was not entirely certain I wanted to be a priest. When I told my father I was considering it, he raged at me. As you know, I am his heir, so he saw it as a waste and a tragedy should I make that decision. Quite honestly, my father drove me into it with his attitude. Had he been supportive to make the choice best for me, who knows if I would have done it. But because he told me how stupid I was being for even considering such a thing, I joined the priesthood out of spite."

Andia's initial shock was fading as she listened to his explanation. "But what happened that took you out of the cloister?"

He sighed faintly, leaning back against the stone window frame. "One of the patrons of Worth Abbey, where I was serving, was the Earl of Norbury," he said. "He had a wife—a very young and frisky wife—who wanted to take me to her bed. She tried everything to catch my attention and I ignored her as much as I was able. It is difficult as a priest when you are supposed to be helping mankind find its way to God. You are supposed to be kind and understanding with your parishioners."

"Even a woman like that?"

He nodded. "Unfortunately, even a woman like that," he said. "Her husband is very rich, and when the bishop caught on to what she was doing, he told me to use my influence with her to get more money. It was truly a nightmare situation. Finally, she summoned me to her home when her husband was away, only I did not know he was away. I arrived thinking she needed my priestly services, but the truth was that she tried to seduce me. Here I am, in her bedchamber, and the woman is naked and trying to throw herself at me. Her husband must have suspected that something was afoot because he returned from his journey unannounced and found us together—her being naked and me trying to fight her off, only he thought I was attacking her."

Andia's eyes were wide with horror. "My God," she gasped. "What happened?"

Torran shrugged. "He tried to kill me but I returned to the abbey unscathed," he said. "Barely, I might add. I did not carry a weapon in those days. But Norbury complained to the bishop, and also to my father, and I was exiled from the abbey in disgrace. My father, thinking that I was, indeed, stupid and incorrigible, called upon Henry, who is an old friend, to take me into the royal fold as a knight. I certainly could no longer be a priest. And that is how I ended up in Henry's service, working my way up the knightly ranks to the position I am in today."

Andia shook her head in disbelief. "God's Bones," she exclaimed softly. "What a terrible situation you had to endure. And your own father did not believe you?"

"Nay," he said. "You should know that my father and I do not get along. Never a kind word out of his mouth for me."

"What about your mother and siblings?"

He found himself looking out of the window, thinking of the rest of his family and the revelation Henry had dropped on him about him being his father's bastard. Frankly, he didn't care if it was true or not because it didn't change his world in any fashion. The only thing that revelation did for him was clear up a lot of mystery surrounding his relationship with his father. Perhaps it even caused him some bitterness toward the man, because if it was true, then his father should have been more understanding of the situation, given his own clouded past.

"My mother is a distant woman," he said after a moment. "My brother, Rhys, is a good man. He and I are friendly. Not very close, but friendly. And my sister, Aurelia, is an angel. She's the one I miss the most."

Andia smiled faintly. "That's very sweet," she said. "I hope I am able to meet her someday. I hope I am able to meet all of your family someday."

He looked at her. "You are the daughter of an earl, which my father will approve of," he said. "But your father was also stripped of his titles, which he will not approve of."

Andia was thoughtful for a moment. "Then you can tell him that my paternal grandmother was a Baldwin, a descendant of the House of Flanders," she said. "Queen Matilda, wife of the Duke of Normandy, is my ancestor, which makes me a cousin to Henry. Did the king tell you that?"

Torran nodded. "I knew because Lord Penden told me," he said. "Henry has not mentioned it."

"I have royal blood in me. Shouldn't that make your father happy?"

"Possibly." Torran shrugged. "But I do not much care, to be honest. I have the only woman in the world I have ever wanted and I do not care if you are a queen or a pauper. You belong to me and that is all that matters."

Andia smiled. "I will do my best to make you proud, Torran," she said softly. "Truly, I will. But this is all so unbelievable. I am having trouble comprehending that this is the future. Our future together."

He lifted a hand, cupping her face gently as his thumb stroked her soft cheek. "For today, for tomorrow, and for always," he said. "It begins now."

She nodded, the glow of hope in her eyes never so bright. He pinched her on the chin gently and she giggled, finally throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing him so tightly that she nearly choked him. He hugged her in return, finally smacking her affectionately on the bottom as he pulled away.

"Now," he said. "We have a few things to attend to."

She stood up next to him. "What would you have me do?"

He grasped her hand and began to walk her toward the solar door. "I would say that all you need do is select the dress you wish to be married in," he said. "I will send Stefan for a priest, but meanwhile, I must tell your brother of his impending future. I do not suppose he is going to be happy going to Canterbury, but he will simply have to accept it."

Andia shrugged. "He may be naughty at times, and demanding, but he can be obedient," she said. "He seems to obey you well enough."

Torran thought on that spanking he gave the lad the first day he'd met him. "There is a reason for that," he said, his eyes twinkling. "He does not like to be spanked."

"No one does."

He eyed her. "Don't tell me that you have been naughty enough to be spanked."

She batted her eyelashes coyly. "That is something you'll have to discover for yourself," she said. "I can, indeed, be far worse than Aeron."

His eyebrows flew up in feigned apprehension. "Is that so?" he said. "God help me, then."

She burst into soft laughter and he grinned, pausing in the doorway of the solar and pulling her into a snug embrace. She was warm and soft in his arms as he captured her lips, kissing her deeply, loving the feel of this joy in his heart. How this had happened, so quickly yet without fanfare or effort, made it seem as if it had been planned since the beginning of time and was meant to occur at this very moment. Looking back on his life, Torran could see that everything he had endured, every road he took, led him to this moment.

It led him to Kennington.

And to Andia.

"I must send Stefan for a priest," he murmured, tearing his lips away from hers. "And if I do not separate myself from you at this very moment, I fear that I will never do it, and there is much to do."

Andia grinned as he released her and stepped away. But he blew her a kiss as he headed for the door, which she thought was very sweet, but she suddenly remembered where he was going. And whom he would be speaking to.

She called out to him.

"Wait," she said. "Before you find Stefan, I feel that I should mention something. I'm not entirely certain, of course, but I would be remiss if I did not tell you my suspicions."

He paused at the door. "Suspicions of what?"

She closed the gap between them. "Of Stefan," she said quietly. "When you tell him to summon a priest, you should know that… Let me be clear that he never said or did anything even remotely inappropriate… but I think he may be a little fond of me."

Torran's brow furrowed. "Fond?" he said. "Explain."

She shook her head. "I could be wrong," she said. "I hope I am. But I felt as if over the past few days, when you were away, that he was verging on flirting with me from time to time. I never responded, of course, but it's entirely possible that given the fact that he was charged to watch over an eligible young woman, with whom he shared several pleasant conversations, he might have felt… fondness. I am not sure I can explain it any more than that."

Torran took the hint. "So you want me to be considerate when I tell him we are to be married."

She shrugged, but she also nodded her head, and he understood. Perhaps it was a delicate situation, perhaps not. He didn't blame Stefan for finding Andia lovely and sweet, because she was. The man had good taste. But nothing could come of it and Stefan had to be clear on that.

Torran had staked his claim.

"Not to worry," he said. "I will take care of it."

With that, he headed out the door, toward the yard in search of Stefan. Andia stood in the doorway a moment, watching him go and hoping Stefan wouldn't be too crushed to find out the lady he might have had an eye for was marrying someone else. Stefan was a nice man and she didn't want to hurt him.

But her heart belonged to Torran.

Today, always, and forever.