Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Lonsdale

I t promised to be a bright morning.

The birds were singing as the sun began to rise, burning off the dew that was lingering in the meadows. The temperature was already rising, promising to be a lovely day, but along with the temperature, the humidity was on the rise as well. Being next to the River Thames guaranteed sticky air during the warmer months. The order of the day was for lighter garments to combat the moist air.

Brielle could hear her mother telling her younger siblings that.

Dustin hadn't made it into Brielle's room, mostly because she knew it would probably be futile. Brielle hadn't gotten out of bed for three days and this day didn't show any promise that such a thing might happen. She was pale, lethargic, and miserable.

Brielle wasn't going anywhere.

Her family knew it, her mother and sister most of all. They had watched Brielle fade over the past three days, ever since she had confronted Cassian about his visit to the brothel on Angel Court. According to Brielle, Cassian didn't deny it and that was the end of everything. He'd lied to her about not having another woman in his bed since he left her and she simply couldn't get past that. Dustin had catered to her, trying to get her to eat, while Christin brushed her hair and tried to coax her into bathing and dressing.

But Brielle remained uninterested in any activity. She was uninterested in life. She simply lay in bed and gazed off into the dimness of the chamber, mourning a life that would never happen.

This particular morning while Dustin was in the kitchens having the cook make Brielle something tempting, Christin had other ideas. Her sister hadn't spoken much since that day at Bromley when the final words were spoken between Brielle and Cassian. While Christopher and Dustin were more apt to side with Brielle, no questions asked, Christin was more inquisitive. She gave her sister three days to give her more of an explanation and when she didn't, Christin took matters into her own hands.

Her three older boys were already awake and dressed, with the nurse that took care of the younger de Lohr and de Sherrington children, while Christin had just nursed the youngest child and he was now sleeping off his milk indulgence. With her own children tended, she went to seek her sister.

Brielle was awake at dawn but she was out of bed, a surprising move, and gazing out over the river. When Christin entered her sister's chamber, she spied the woman over by the big window. She could feel the moist air blowing in already.

"Good morn," she said to her sister. "How are you feeling this morning?"

Brielle sighed faintly. "I am well," she said. "But please do not ask me that again for the rest of the day."

Christin came over to stand with her, looking out over the blue ribbon of the Thames. "I will not," she said. "But I do want to ask you something else."

"What?"

Christin looked at her, noting her lifeless face and unbrushed hair. "Sherry and I have been speaking," she said. "I would like to discuss Cassian."

Brielle sighed sharply. "Why?"

"Because something seems… strange, Brie."

"What in the world could possibly be strange?"

Christin could sense that her sister's patience was brittle, so she spoke quickly. "While we do not doubt that you saw Cassian going into a house on Angel Court, did you ask him why?" she said. "Why would he do such a thing after he told you he'd not taken another woman to his bed since he last saw you? I ask this because he did not have to tell you anything at all to that regard. He did not owe you any explanation, yet he did tell you that."

Brielle looked at her sister, her face pale and her eyes dark-ringed. "I should think that would be fairly obvious why he did it," she said stiffly. "He wanted to lie to me."

"But did you ask him why he lied?"

Brielle was quickly becoming angry. "And hear more of his untruths?" she said, turning away and heading over to her bed. "Why should I subject myself to that, Cissy? Why would you want me to?"

Christin watched her sister plop back on her bed. "Tell me exactly what your last words with him were," she said. She wasn't going to give the subject a rest, not when her sister's entire future was at stake. "What did he say to you? Did you tell him to go away?"

Brielle shook her head. "I did not tell him to go away," she said. "I told him what I saw and he said if that is what I thought I saw, then there was no point in continuing the discussion."

Christin cocked her head curiously. "If that was what you thought you saw?" she repeated. "It seems strange that he would phrase it that way."

Brielle lifted her shoulders. "Why?" she said. "He would not deny it."

"Did you give him the opportunity?"

Brielle frowned. "I asked him if that was all he had to say to me about it."

"And was it?"

Brielle didn't like being interrogated. "Don't you believe me?"

"Of course I believe you," Christin said. "But I also know how you are when you become angry. Lord knows how many times you and I have been angry at one another, Brie. Rather than listen, sometimes you tend to walk away and form your own opinions. Do not deny it because you know it is true. I'm not saying that Cassian did not do what you said he has done, but did you ask him to explain? And if he did, did you really listen ?"

Brielle was gearing up to go to fisticuffs with her sister, but nothing Christin said was untrue. She did tend to jump to conclusions and she could be stubborn. That was a de Lohr trait. But she was still baffled at Christin not siding with her.

"What do you want me to tell you?" she said. "You are making this more painful. While you have a husband who loves you, my dreams of a loving husband are smashed and all you want to do is question me about it? This is not my fault, Christin."

Christin went over to her sister. "I did not say that it was," she said quietly. "I am just trying to figure out if this is really the end before you and Cassian make a terrible mistake because of a misunderstanding. I have a more level head about this than you do. Mayhap he had a reason for going into that brothel."

Brielle rolled her eyes. "He did!" she snapped. "He needed to touch a whore the way he has touched me. Don't you understand? Not only did he lie to me, but he proved to me that I am worthless in his eyes. Absolutely worthless."

She broke down in tears and Christin sighed heavily. She sat down next to her sister, putting her arm around the woman's shoulders.

"I am sorry," she murmured. "I did not mean to make you cry. But you must understand that I have known you and Cassian since the start of your relationship. Other than Mama and Papa, and Sherry and me, I have never seen two people who are more in love with one another than you and Cassian. You are made for each other. Cassian seemed so keen to build bridges with you when he saw you again so it makes no sense why he would go into a brothel and risk ruining everything. For man who says he has grown, that is counter to everything he has professed as a noble and honorable knight. You say he did not deny it, but did you let him explain? It could be that it wasn't what you thought."

Brielle wiped at her eyes. "I am not stupid," she said. "Why else would he go there?"

"I think you should let him explain himself," Christin said. "If you are going to be miserable for the rest of your life, at least justify it. Make sure you hear his reasons from his own lips and decide if you are going to hate him forever based on what he tells you."

She made sense. Too much sense. Brielle wiped away the last of her tears, thinking that maybe her sister was right in everything. Had she listened to an explanation? Once he said that he didn't see any point in continuing the discussion because she'd already made up her mind, there wasn't any reason to go on about it. Nay, she hadn't asked for an explanation.

She'd simply let him go.

After a moment, she sighed heavily.

"He's probably already gone by now," she said. "Papa said he was going to the field this morning to help Addax and Essien pack their belongings. I am sure that Cassian is already gone."

Christin stood up. "You do not know that for certain," she said. "But Sherry said he did not compete for the rest of the tournament. Not after he spoke to you."

Brielle looked at her, surprised. "No one told me that."

"Papa told them not to. He will probably be angry with me for telling you."

Brielle was concerned that the great Dark Conqueror hadn't finished his tournament. With the amount of money involved, and given that this was Cassian's livelihood, that spoke volumes. Those actions would indicate a man who was as upset as she was, perhaps unwilling or unable to compete.

Upset that he'd been caught in his lies.

… or upset because his accuser hadn't listened to him?

She stood up from the bed.

"Then I will ask him for an explanation," she said. "Even if it is what I think it is, I suppose it is better to hear it from his lips."

Christin nodded quickly. "It is," she said, thrilled her sister was taking her advice. In truth, something told her that this situation wasn't all her sister had imagined it to be. "I will have them prepare a horse, but you must dress quickly. Cassian is probably packing his possessions as we speak, so you do not want to miss him."

Brielle silently agreed. As Christin went to send a servant to the stables to have a fast mount saddled, Brielle went about quickly washing in the cold water in the basin and finding something durable to wear. She was washed and dressed in about ten minutes, her blonde hair braided and draped over one shoulder and clad in a yellow garment that hugged her figure. She slipped out the front door of Lonsdale because her mother was still in the kitchen, still with the cook who was making something tempting for Brielle to eat. But Brielle wouldn't be there to sample it.

She had a man to see.

Perhaps for the very last time.

*

"He did not even finish the tournament," Addax said. "It was a blessing for me, since I won the joust, but all anyone can talk about is The Dark Conqueror and how the man is dying. He's not dying, is he?"

It was the morning of the fifth day of Bromley's tournament. Sunrise over the trampled meadow showed the various houses packing up their things, preparing to return home, with the professional tournament knights preparing to move on to Yeovil, the site of the next scheduled tournament. At the moment, it was a matter of making sure everyone had their equipment and possessions, and wagons were already starting to roll across the mashed grass and onto the road leading west.

The de Lohr contingent had a small area of the encampment, with just a couple of tents for a few soldiers and Essien and Addax so they didn't have to constantly travel back and forth between Lonsdale and Bromley. Christopher had departed Lonsdale on this early morning along with Alexander, but Alexander headed into London to attend to a few things while Christopher continued on to Bromley. David was there as well. He had been in London during the tournament but hadn't been able to attend until the last day. He'd been able to see Addax and Essien dominate until Addax finally triumphed over the Bringer of Nightmares, Cassian's counterpart.

Beau de Russe had been a good loser. He'd saluted Addax and took his prize back to his tents, where Cassian had been hibernating. Since his discussion with Brielle, he hadn't come out of his tent for three straight days.

He hadn't been sober for as long, either, or so went the rumor.

"Nay," Christopher finally said. "He's not dying. At least, I do not think so."

"Then what?" Addax asked. "He was on his way to beating everyone, me included, but he withdrew the first day of the joust and no one seems to know why."

Christopher looked at him. "Honestly, I do not know his exact reasons," he said. "But I suspect it has something to do with Brielle. I fear the situation between them is ended for good. I have not been able to get her out of bed for the past three days and Cassian has not emerged from his tent for just as long, so I think it is safe to say he is not physically dying. Emotionally, mayhap, but not physically."

Addax lifted his dark eyebrows in understanding. "I see," he said quietly. "While the joust was going on, I did not care if he stayed away, but now… now, I know."

"Indeed, you do."

Essien moved past them at that point, joust poles on his broad shoulders that he dumped into the wagon. Addax watched his brother for a moment.

"Es is heartbroken as well," he said quietly. "He and Cass were close, once. I fear this entire tournament has not been a pleasant one for him."

Christopher looked off across the encampment, where several red and black tents stood off in the distance. Those were Cassian's tents; he knew that because those were de Velt colors and also because Alexander had told him. Men were packing up, but the big tents remained up. No one had taken them down yet. Part of him wanted to go over there and speak with Cassian, but he talked himself out of it. It was probably better if he remained distant, for if what Brielle said was true, any lies or half-truths from Cassian would probably drive him to murder the man. It was a sad situation all around.

With sorrow, he turned back to his tasks.

But David didn't.

He'd been listening to everything, every conversation, every comment. He'd heard all about what had happened with Brielle and Cassian because it had been difficult not to. He'd been involved with some Kent warlords and their council for the past few days, so his brother had to fill him in on everything that happened with Cassian and Brielle and, quite frankly, he was not as controlled as Christopher was about it. He never had been able to control himself as much as his brother had, so while the de Lohr men were loading up the last of their small encampment, David slipped away and headed over to the black and red de Velt tents.

He was going to get to the bottom of things.

He knew Christopher would probably kill him, but he didn't care. He, too, had known Cassian and Jax for years, so he was emotionally invested in the situation whether or not he wanted to be. Christopher may have been taking the high road with Cassian's behavior, but David had no such compunction. If no one else was going to confront Cassian about his bad judgment, he was.

Most of the tents between de Lohr and de Velt had been removed that morning, or were in the process of being removed, so it was a quick trip across the grass for David. There were a few soldiers lingering outside of the larger tent as he approached. As he drew near, an enormous knight with dark hair emerged from the tent, carrying weaponry, which he handed over to a soldier. They had three wagons pulled up to the tents that were being loaded and organized. When the dark-haired knight saw David, because the man was quite close now, he lifted his chin.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked, not too kindly.

David came to a halt. "I am looking for Cassian," he said. He tilted his head in the direction of the tent. "Is he in there?"

The dark-haired knight looked him over for a moment, not particularly apt to help him. "Who are you?"

"David de Lohr."

That brought a reaction. "The Earl of Canterbury?"

"You know me."

"By name only, my lord," he said, his manner turning from hard to respectful quickly. "I am Beau de Russe."

"From Braidwood?"

He was making clear the branch of the family, as there were a few, but the main branch had an enormous manse in London called Braidwood.

Beau nodded.

"Aye, my lord," he said. "My father is Hugh de Russe, the Earl of Exeter."

David looked at the knight through new eyes now that clarifications were made. "I know your father," he said. "I also know your older brothers."

Beau cleared his throat softly. "Then if you know them, you know why I must seek my fortune elsewhere."

David did indeed know something about the Earl of Exeter and his greedy older sons, twins, who were battling it out for the title and the money, evidently leaving a younger brother to fend for himself.

"I have heard," he said vaguely, not wanting to get into some serious family drama. "Does your father know where you are?"

Beau shook his head. "I love my father, but if he knows, he will tell my brothers, and I do not want them tracking me down. They would try to recruit me, each over the other, and I do not wish to be put in that position."

David understood. "Then your secret is safe with me," he said. But his gaze moved to the tent. "Is Cassian in there? I need to speak with him."

Beau sighed heavily. "He is," he said. "But he is not himself, my lord. Days of drink will do that. I think this is the first time he's slept in three days, which is why we've not awakened him yet. We will give him time to…"

"I'm awake."

The tent flap snapped back and Cassian emerged, looking like hell. He was sporting a growth on his face, his hair hadn't been combed, and David could smell the alcohol on him from where he stood. Cassian's bloodshot gaze moved over David.

"My lord," he greeted. "I heard you from inside the tent. How may I be of service?"

David looked him over, thinking he'd never seen the man looking so strung out. It was true that he'd not seen Cassian in many years and if he believed anything Sean de Lara said, the man was possibly an assassin plotting against Henry, but David just didn't think any of that was true. Alexander had essentially told Sean as much and David agreed with him. Men changed, but their souls didn't.

Cassian had never had a rebel soul.

He crooked a finger at the man.

"Walk with me for a moment," he said. "I must speak to you."

Cassian started to move, without question, and as he stepped away, Beau motioned for their men to start cleaning out Cassian's tent. But his gaze returned to David and Cassian as they walked off into the cluttered, dirty meadow left behind by the tournament competitors. He found himself hoping that whatever David had to say might bring Cassian out of his funk.

But Cassian wasn't sure emerging from his funk was possible. As he walked with David, his head throbbed and his mouth was like paste and he most definitely didn't feel like going for a leisurely stroll with a man he hadn't seen for years. But he was a de Lohr and he knew this visit had something to do with Brielle.

He braced himself.

"I will again ask how I may be of service, my lord," he said. "What do you wish of me?"

David came to a halt and faced him. "I want to know what has happened to you," he said. "Cassian, we have a history. Like it or not, you have a history with the House of de Lohr. You are family."

Cassian smiled thinly. "Mayhap by perception, but the truth is that I am not family at all."

"You are Max's father and his mother is Brielle, my niece. That makes you family by blood."

Cassian wasn't in the mood to be lectured. "Is that what you came to say?"

David shook his head. "Nay," he said. "But I am going to tell you something, something I should not be revealing to you. Let me start by asking you a question."

"Ask."

"Do you serve the Earl of St. Albans?"

That was not the question he had been expecting. "Who told you that, my lord?"

David lifted an eyebrow. "I am allied with William Marshal the younger," he said. "There is not much he doesn't know or cannot find out. You know his spy ring, which is vast and deep. He probably knows more about you than you do. Answer my question."

"Nay, I do not serve the Earl of St. Albans," Cassius said without missing a beat. "He is dead."

"But you did serve him."

Again, Cassian didn't hesitate. "I did, my lord."

David was careful in how he proceeded. "You know he was loyal to King John."

"I know."

"Were you loyal to John?"

"I was sworn to St. Albans. My loyalty was to him."

David studied him, wondering how far to push him. He shouldn't be having this conversation with him, but because Cassian was family, as he'd said, he was divulging something he shouldn't. But he was doing it for a reason. After a moment, he held up a hand with some frustration.

"I am not going to split hairs with you," he said. "I do not care what you have been doing for the past seven years because it is none of my affair, but I will tell you this. There is a credible threat against young Henry. Rumor has it that those who still support his father are sending an assassin after the young king in vengeance for what happened to his father and it is further said that this assassin is someone that those loyal to Henry will trust so he will be able to get close to the boy. It is speculated that you may be that assassin, motivated by your loyalty to St. Albans, so if that is you, then do not go near the king. You will be murdered for they know you are coming. Is this clear?"

Cassian's frowning, unhappy expression transformed into one of surprise. "Me?" he said in astonishment. "An assassin?"

"That is the speculation."

Cassian's mouth popped open in shock before he shook his head. "I am not an assassin," he said vehemently. "Even if I was, it would not serve any supporters of John. I came to serve St. Albans after John died, so I was never directly involved with anything John did."

"Never?"

"Never!" Cassian declared. "The only reason St. Albans supported the king was because he was a kindly old man and his family had always supported the Crown. He thought he was doing the right thing, but John stripped him of all of his wealth before casting him aside. John did horrible things to Alain de Bambeque, my lord. He left him with absolutely nothing. I would never support that bastard or his memory, in any case, and I certainly would not kill in his name."

That was more of an explanation than David had expected. He had no reason to disbelieve it because in that speech, he could see the old Cassian– fiery, stubborn, proud, and fiercely loyal. Most of all, truthful.

Honestly, he was relieved.

"Thank God," he muttered. "But that does not erase the fact that you are still under suspicion. Where are you going next?"

"To Yeovil," Cassian said. "There is a tournament there next month."

David nodded. "Excellent," he said. "Go there and stay there until this situation blows over. But first, you will answer another question. I have been honest with you and now I want you to be honest with me."

"What about?"

"Did you visit a brothel three days ago?"

There was that question, the very question that had Cassian eating his guts out for three long days. It wasn't by guilt. It was because he was so damned hurt that he'd ruined everything again, that he'd given Brielle a reason to doubt him, that he could hardly function.

"Is that what Brielle said?" he finally asked.

David nodded. "She did," he said. "She said she followed you to Candlewick Street and saw you go into a brothel."

Cassian sighed heavily. "That's what she thinks she saw," he said. "But that is not what it was."

"Then tell me what it was."

Cassian scratched his dirty scalp. "You asked me if I served the Earl of St. Albans," he said. "I did. Alain was a good man who treated me well. When Henry stripped him of his title, he was forced to flee his ancestral home and came to London to live in his wife's family's townhome on Angel Court. They were destitute. Part of the reason I took to the tournament circuit was so I could earn a living, but I used some of the money to feed the earl and his wife. As I said, they were good to me when I needed it and I wanted to repay the favor. What Brielle saw was me going to visit the countess and take her some money that I'd won from this tournament."

David stared at him for a moment before rolling his eyes in disbelief. "Jesus," he muttered. "Is that what happened?"

Cassian nodded. "I knew it would be of no use to explain it to Brielle," he said. "I had gone away and left her once, so her trust in me was weak. When she saw me go into Lady de Bambeque's home, she thought it was a brothel. That's natural, considering that entire street is full of them. I knew it would do no good to explain myself. She wouldn't have believed me."

"Did you even try?"

Cassian smiled weakly, tears glimmering in his eyes. "Your niece is very stubborn, my lord," he said. "Her mind was already made up when she confronted me. Nothing I could have said would have made any difference and I did not want to beg her. That would make me look desperate and insincere, so… I did not explain myself. I don't think she wanted me to, to be honest."

David could see the pain in the man's eyes and he felt so terribly sorry for him. "If it is worth anything to you, I believe you," he said. "Cass, this entire situation is a goddamned mess. Chris is so angry at you that I truly think he would try to hurt you given the chance and I can only imagine how Brielle is feeling at the moment, so let me talk to them. Let me explain what you were unable to say. Will you at least let me do that?"

Cassian shrugged. "If you think it will do any good," he said. "Normally, I would not involve another man in my affairs, for they are my own, but I will be truthful when I say that I have given up all hope. If you think it will do any good, you have my permission."

David nodded. "Good," he said, reaching out to put a hand on Cassian's arm. "That is good. I will do what I can, I promise, but you must do something, too. You must get out of here and get to Yeovil. Pack up and get out of here. If Brielle believes me, she'll follow you there, I'm sure."

Cassian simply nodded. He wasn't holding out any hope at all, as he'd said, even with David's help. Perhaps there was too much damage done, as he'd said to Brielle. Perhaps the trust between them had been ground into dust and scattered upon the wind. He could love her until the end of his days, but without trust, love would not be enough.

He knew that.

David gave him one last pat on the shoulder before turning and heading off. Cassian watched the man go, rushing off towards the de Lohr tents that were completely packed up now. He couldn't allow himself to believe that the situation with Brielle would change, but something else David said had him concerned.

Thinking he was an assassin for John's supporters.

If they knew he had served the Earl of St. Albans, it wouldn't take much for them to figure out where Celesse lived now that the word was spreading through the de Lohrs. He'd gone straight to Celesse's home and if David knew that, then Christopher would as well. What Christopher knew, William Marshal and his spy network knew. If they thought Celesse was behind some far-fetched assassination plot, then they could very well go to Angel Court and arrest her.

That brought him a sense of panic.

He had to warn her.

Rushing back to Beau, he quickly discussed the situation with the man, who readily agreed with him. Beau even suggested he remove Celesse from the townhome and bring her to Yeovil, but they both knew how difficult that would be for an old woman who didn't travel. The stress of it could very well kill her.

He couldn't do that to her.

As Beau prepared the wagons for the trip to Yeovil, Cassian mounted his fat warhorse and headed off for London to warn an old woman who was as far from a conspirator against the current king as one could possibly be.

God help her.