Chapter Twenty

“I cannot let her do this,” Douglas said strongly. “Let her break the betrothal. I will have my father send two thousand men to Axminster, permanently. An army of that size will keep de Honiton at bay. Eric, are you listening to me?”

After leaving Mira to dress, Douglas had come down to the solar because he wanted to know what had transpired between Jerome and Isabel. Why the woman had been left in a flood of tears. Unfortunately, he found out quickly enough.

It was worse than he could have imagined.

“I am listening to you,” Eric said, no spark of life in his tone. After what Isabel had told him, the man was dead inside. “But Isabel has made the decision she feels best for Axminster. We cannot contest it.”

Douglas’ mouth was hanging open in shock and outrage. He looked at Isabel, still over by the window, though she wasn’t weeping as she had been earlier. She was simply sitting there, still as stone.

All of the life had gone out of her, too.

“Isabel,” Douglas said pleadingly. “You do not have to do this. I realize you are trying to appease Jerome, but this is not the way.”

She sighed heavily before moving her red-eyed gaze to Douglas. “Douglas, I want you to listen to me and listen carefully,” she said. “I am only going to say this one time, and once I say it, you are not allowed to argue with me. You are not allowed to make other suggestions. If you do, I will beat you within an inch of your life and send you and your army home. Do you understand me?”

Douglas was ready to explode but knew she was serious. He knew she was hurting and he honestly wasn’t trying to make it worse, but he didn’t believe this was the end. He couldn’t accept it. Still, he nodded his head in answer to her question and turned away, pacing the floor in an agitated manner as Isabel rose unsteadily to her feet.

“Good,” she said. “I want to be very clear about this, Douglas. As you are accepting blame for Mira’s actions, I am accepting the blame for you. You are protecting the woman who will be your wife, and while that is admirable, I am making it so Jerome will be appeased and no one, including you and Mira, will every have to worry about him again.”

Douglas couldn’t keep his mouth shut at her path to martyrdom. “But—”

She jabbed a finger at him. “Silence,” she hissed. “I am not finished. Now, is this a simple thing for me to do? It is not. It is a business arrangement and it is an arrangement for peace, and if you argue with me, you are diminishing my sacrifice. You are showing a lack of faith in my decision. Would you dare show such a lack of respect for me?”

Douglas, pale and upset, nonetheless remained stoic. He shook his head in surrender. “Nay, Lady Isabel.”

“Do you think I do not know my own mind?

“Nay, Lady Isabel.”

She nodded briefly. “You have answered as you should,” she said. “I will marry de Honiton and he will have his son, God willing. He will also be the Earl of Axminster and our children will be the heirs. That is the way it is going to be. As for Eric… I would ask a favor of you, Douglas.”

“Anything, my lady.”

She glanced at Eric, but only briefly. Any longer and her resolve might weaken, so it was only a quick glance. It was clear that whatever time they’d spent alone in the solar had been a time of great anguish for them both, hashing out something that could not, would not, be changed.

And that was Isabel’s choice.

“Will you take Eric with you to Lioncross Abbey?” she said, her voice beginning to crack. “He deserves a place of honor among great knights. He does not need to remain at Axminster and watch the results of my decision. I could not do that to him.”

That was the most painful thing Douglas had ever heard. He’d become fond of both Isabel and Eric, and knowing they loved one another made this situation all the more tragic. After a moment, he nodded.

“If that is your wish, my lady,” he said. “My father will make room for him. He will be honored.”

Isabel forced a smile before turning to Eric. “Did you hear that?” she said. “Hereford will be honored to have you in his stable of knights. It is the prestige you deserve, Eric.”

As always, Eric didn’t argue with her. He simply nodded, a slight gesture, but said nothing. One could literally hear the man’s heart breaking, shattering like the most fragile glass into pieces that could never be whole again. Knowing that was probably all she would get out of him, Isabel returned her attention to Douglas.

“Thank you,” she said. “My heart is at ease. Now, if you will excuse me, I will retire for a time. It has been an… eventful day.”

Douglas moved to the chamber door to open it for her. A gesture of respect, of chivalry. She smiled weakly as she approached the door, touched by his actions, but he stopped her before she could go through.

“My lady,” he said, reaching down to take her hand. “What you have done… It is the greatest sacrifice I have ever heard of. It was something you did not have to do, which makes it all the greater. I shall never forget it. Or you. You have my undying respect.”

He lifted her hand and kissed it gently, drawing a genuine smile from Isabel. “We did not start out as friends, you and I,” she said. “But I now consider you a close one. I’ve told you that you remind me of my brother, so mayhap that is why I have a soft spot for you, Douglas de Lohr. I hope I am always worthy of your respect.”

He smiled in return. “I have no doubt,” he said. “But before you depart, Mira is dressing. I assumed you would want to speak with her. What shall I tell her when she comes downstairs?”

Isabel’s smile faded. “Tell her nothing,” she said. “She has suffered far more than any of us. This matter has been put to rest as far as I am concerned, so let us not linger over it. What’s done is done. There is no going back.”

“Aye, my lady.”

He was still holding Isabel’s hand, and she gave him a squeeze before letting go, moving wearily toward the stairs that led to the upper floors. Douglas watched her go before retreating back into the solar, where Eric was still sitting like a soulless man.

Empty and still.

Douglas was greatly concerned for him.

“And you?” he asked quietly. “How can I help you, Eric? Is there anything I can do?”

Eric didn’t react at first. He continued to sit there, staring off into space, but after a few moments, he drew in a deep breath.

“I have been sitting here thinking on how I can salvage this,” he said quietly. “Isabel is sacrificing everything for a situation that would have never occurred had de Honiton not decided to stay the night.”

Douglas planted his bottom on the end of Isabel’s big, heavy table and folded his arms over his chest. “Had we had any visions into the future, we would have denied him entry,” he said. Then he hissed sharply and hung his head. “Had his fool for a son only kept control of himself. Had Astoria only kept her mouth shut. We could do this for the rest of the day, Eric. Many things led to this moment.”

“I know,” Eric said. “You should know that while you were upstairs with Mira, Isabel ordered Jonathan to take Astoria into the village and secure her a room for the night. We are sending her home with an escort on the morrow. Home to a father who ignores her and an uncle who lusts after her. I would like to say that I am sorry for that, but I am not. The woman was bred by swine and she returns to swine. Fate has a way of punishing people who deserve it.”

Douglas grunted. “I suppose that will be punishment enough for her.”

“Did you have something else in mind?”

Douglas shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “She is beneath my contempt. I’ll not waste another moment thinking of her.”

“That is the way I feel about it. She has not only changed your life, but she has changed mine.”

“More unintended consequences of her petty vengeance.”

“Exactly.”

They fell silent for a moment, hearing the bustle of the inner bailey wafting in through the windows. It sounded like just another normal day outside, while inside, lives were changing and hearts were breaking. Douglas’ thoughts began to turn to Mira. He was looking forward to seeing her come through the solar door, but also wondering how he was going to tell her about Isabel’s bargain. He knew she would be greatly distressed by it. As he pondered how to couch the terrible news, Eric suddenly stood up from the chair he’d been seated on.

“If I tell you something and ask you to keep it secret, will you do me that honor?” he asked.

Douglas watched him as he walked over to one of the lancet windows. “You know I will.”

Eric drew in a long, pensive breath, gazing out over the inner bailey and the gatehouse. Beyond that was the central bailey, cluttered with shelters that had been established by the visiting armies.

“Douglas, there is only one solution to all of this,” he said. “I am going to challenge Jerome to a fight. If he wins, he takes everything. If I win, he departs and never returns.”

Douglas felt sorry for the man. It was a very simplistic plan in a complicated situation. “If you do that, you will be undermining Isabel’s bargain,” he said. “Please do not take offense, but I do not think it is a good idea.”

Eric looked at him. “You don’t?”

“Nay.”

“Then what would you do?”

Douglas shrugged, coming off the table and moving over to where Eric was standing. “If we are speaking theoretically,” he said, “the most logical thing is to eliminate de Honiton. With no Jerome, there is no bargain.”

“Is that what you would have done had he demanded to marry Mira?”

“I would have killed him where he stood. I wanted to, believe me.”

“That’s what I want to do.”

“What?”

“Kill him.”

Douglas understood. God help him, he understood completely. The trouble was that Eric hadn’t held a sword in years and would more than likely get himself killed trying to rid himself of Jerome. But the truth was that he was a man in love with a woman who had to bargain with the devil and was now pledged to him simply to keep the peace. It wasn’t fair, any of it, and Eric was trying to think of a way out of it.

A way that wouldn’t shame Isabel or get himself killed.

Had Douglas been in his situation, it would have been different. Douglas was a knight, born and bred for battle. He had killed his share of men, but always men who were a defined enemy. Douglas was a man who valued life and valued those he loved greatly. That meant he was a man with a soul and a conscience, and as much as he didn’t have a problem killing a man who was a threat or an enemy, he didn’t condone outright murder.

This coming from a man whose brothers, and father, were involved in the Executioner Knights.

The Executioner Knights were a sect of assassins and spies, men who worked for the good of England any way they had to. Originally, William Marshal, the first Earl of Pembroke, had organized the guild to help him in his behind-the-scenes struggles with, and for, the crown, and he had kept the group a secret. The Executioner Knights helped him keep the kingdom solvent against foreign threats and, in the case of King John, even a king who sometimes was the enemy of his own people. Christopher, Peter, Roi, and Myles were all Executioner Knights. They had done some very unsavory things. Even Curtis had been involved from time to time, but Christopher had purposely kept Douglas and Westley away from the Executioner Knights. They had been small children during the time of his heavy involvement, and as his sons grew older, perhaps he was only willing to lend the guild just a few of his sons.

But Douglas and Westley had been kept out of it.

That never bothered Douglas until now. He wished he had the assassin instinct like his father and brothers and even his brother-in-law, husband to his eldest sister, Christin. Alexander de Sherrington was the greatest assassin the world had ever seen. Douglas was coming to wish he’d had some of the training that Alexander had, because if he did, he would have taken care of Eric’s problem easily. Even though he didn’t have the training, however, he know someone who did.

Right under his nose.

But he would have to think carefully about unleashing that kind of power.

“I understand,” he said after a moment. “But you cannot challenge him. That is out of the question.”

Eric knew that. The once-skilled knight was only a clumsy has-been these days. Ashamed, and defeated, he returned his attention to the window. “Then it is over,” he said. “Isabel will bear the children of another man and I will have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

Douglas stood beside him, also looking out over the bailey. “There are other ways of handling this situation that don’t involve a challenge,” he said quietly. “If you want to spare Isabel a marriage to Jerome, then you must be clever about it.”

Eric looked at him. “What do you mean?”

Douglas shrugged. “Accidents, for example,” he said. “Accidents happen all of the time. I am not advocating that you put him in front of a team of wild horses, but think of it this way… Something far subtler would be equally effective.”

He had Eric’s interest. “Like what?”

Douglas pondered the question for a moment. “For example, if you were to take him on a tour of what will be his new property,” he said. “If he is to be the next Earl of Axminster, then he must inspect his domain. Take him to the wall because the view is better from there. There is a section of the parapet that is low, barely to a man’s knees, and it would be nothing at all to give de Honiton an ‘accidental’ shove that sends him over the wall and to his death below.”

Eric’s eyes widened. “Do you think it will work?”

Douglas shrugged. “I think if Jerome goes to the wall, anything can happen.”

A soft knock on the solar door interrupted them and they turned to see Mira entering. Dressed in a simple gown the color of heather and with her blonde hair neatly braided, she looked worlds better than she had last night. Other than a big bruise on her clavicle and scabbed hands, the signs of last night’s struggle were minimal.

To Douglas, she looked like an angel.

“My lords,” she said, dipping into a practiced curtsy. “I’ve come to see Lady Isabel, but I see she is not here.”

Smiling at her, Douglas came away from the wall. “Nay, she is not, my lady,” he said. “She has gone to rest. She did not sleep all night.”

Mira was gazing at Douglas with the same expression he had—giddy and sweet. It was clear how enamored the two were with one another. “Then I am glad she has finally gone to bed,” she said. “I suppose I should see to the young women and to tonight’s meal, then. I can make myself useful until Lady Isabel awakens.”

“The young women are in their small solar, I believe,” Eric said. “I saw them there earlier. Davina and Helen were with them.”

That left the obvious question. “And Astoria?” Mira asked. “Where is she?”

“Gone,” Eric said simply. “She has been sent home. You need not worry about her ever again, my lady. She has gone home.”

That brought obvious relief to Mira. “I see,” she said, struggling not to shout for joy. “In that case, mayhap things will go back to normal around here. I will join Davina and Helen and the other young women. Thank you, Sir Eric.”

With a lingering smile at Douglas, she departed the chamber and headed off to find Isabel’s wards. Douglas watched her go, fixating his gaze on the shapely curve of her torso, before turning to Eric.

“Now,” he said in a low voice. “Where were we?”

Eric’s exhausted face reflected the new determination he was feeling. “I do not know where de Honiton is, but I will find him and invite him to the battlements to introduce him to Axminster,” he said. “It is a good plan, Douglas. When de Honiton is on the wall, I will do what needs to be done.”

“Would you like me to help you?”

Eric appreciated the offer greatly, but he put his hand on Douglas’ arm. “This is my fight, Douglas,” he muttered. “You have given me the idea, but I will see it through. It is my love he is trying to take. I will be the one to stop him.”

Douglas wasn’t in agreement. “This is my fight, too,” he said. “Isabel made the sacrifice to keep de Honiton from harassing me and my family. She said it herself. I am part of this whether or not you want me to be, so I will meet you on the battlements. Though I do not readily advocate what we are about to do, in this case, I will make an exception. De Honiton deserves all of this with his threats. What he and his vile son have done has affected all of us.”

Eric nodded reluctantly. “Very well,” he said. “If you feel strongly about it.”

“I do,” Douglas said. “I will not let him get away with this. Isabel does not deserve it.”

Eric smiled weakly. “Did you think you would have such an opinion six weeks ago when you first came to Axminster?”

Douglas snorted. “I was ready to be done with the lot of you,” he said, quickly sobering. “But not now. Now we are friends. We are bonded by that, until the end.”

Eric was clearly touched. “Thank you, Douglas,” he said, grasping the man’s arm for a quick squeeze. “I am grateful.”

With that, he headed out of the solar to find Jerome just as Jonathan was coming into the keep with Davyss in tow. The two of them eyed Eric as the man stormed past them and out of the keep, but they headed straight for Douglas.

“What is going on, Douglas?” Jonathan asked, clearly upset. “Why is de Honiton going around telling the Axminster soldiers that he is to be their new lord?”

Douglas rolled his eyes. “Christ,” he muttered. “Is he truly saying that?”

“He is.”

Douglas pointed to the solar. “Go inside,” he said. “You are just the man I want to see.”

Jonathan charged into the solar, followed by Davyss and finally Douglas. It was Douglas who shut the door as Jonathan went to the wine pitcher, draining what was left of it.

“It seems that we have a problem,” Douglas said. “What I tell you now does not leave this chamber. Is that clear?”

Jonathan nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as Davyss went over to the pitcher with the futile hope of seeing if anything was left.

Douglas was focused on Jonathan.

“I will make this brief,” he said in a low voice. “De Honiton has backed Isabel into a corner with his threats.”

Jonathan frowned. “What threats?”

Douglas grunted in exasperation. “Where to begin?” he said. “The man demanded that I be turned over to him because I killed his son, but Isabel refused.”

“You did not kill his son.”

Douglas put his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder. “You know that and I know that,” he muttered. “So does Davyss. But if you think I am going to let Lady Mira take the brunt of de Honiton’s anger, then you do not know me at all. From this point forward, all you know is that we came upon Raymond assaulting the lady and I smashed his head in with a rock. Davyss? Do you hear me?”

Standing dejectedly with the empty wine pitcher in his hand, Davyss nodded. “Aye, Douglas.”

Douglas returned his attention to Jonathan. “De Honiton thinks it is me and so does everyone else, so he demanded that Isabel surrender me to face his justice,” he said. “When she refused, he threatened Axminster, Lioncross, and anyone else he could. He told her that she would never know a moment’s peace for the rest of her life, that he would keep up the harassment in punishment for Raymond’s death. When Lady Isabel tried to reason with him, he told her the only way he could be soothed was if Isabel was to give him one of her wards so that he could marry the girl and have another son to replace the one that was taken from him. He demanded Mira, given that she was the object of his son’s lust, but Isabel refused.”

By this time, Jonathan was scowling at him. “He said that?” he said. “He simply wants a woman handed over to him, just like that?”

“Evidently.”

Jonathan shook his head. “Then the man is clearly losing his mind,” he said. “Is that why he is telling the Axminster men that he will soon be their lord? Because he has gone mad?”

Douglas shook his head. “He is telling the men that because Lady Isabel, in order to save Axminster and Lioncross years of harassment from de Honiton, has made him the offer of marriage,” he said. “She will not give over one of her wards, so she gave him the only woman she could—her. Once de Honiton marries her, he will be the Earl of Axminster. It is enough of an offer to still the man and make him forget about his vengeance.”

Jonathan looked positively horrified. “Isabel?” he gasped. “And… that man? De Honiton?”

“Aye.”

“But what does Eric say about this? He and Isabel are…”

He didn’t finish even though it was the most poorly kept secret at Axminster. Douglas motioned Jonathan closer, indicating for him to sit, then sat down opposite the man as Davyss pulled up a stool. Their huddle was close and quiet.

“Eric is talking about challenging de Honiton to a fight,” Douglas muttered. “He wants to fight the man for Isabel’s honor. We all know how that will end.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Eric has not wielded a sword in years.”

“Exactly,” Douglas said. “I do not know de Honiton’s skill level, but he arrived fully armed. That makes me suspect he is not afraid to wield a sword like Eric is. Therefore, the fight will be over before it begins.”

“Eric will get himself killed.”

“Agreed,” Douglas said. “But the core of Eric’s plan is a sound one. If we get rid of de Honiton, then we eliminate the problem. Isabel and Eric remain true to each other and there will be no harassment of Axminster or Lioncross or anyone else because de Honiton has no relatives. The line will be gone. Everything will return to the way it was before de Honiton and his unwelcome son pushed their way into Axminster for the night.”

By this time, Jonathan was watching him carefully. “You have a plan.”

It wasn’t even a question, but a statement. Douglas fixed him in the eye. “Wolfie, I know you have worked with the Executioner Knights in the past,” he said. “Not only are you Blackchurch-trained, but you are also an Executioner Knight veteran. I know you have worked with Myles because he told me. Something about a Flemish count who was providing money to the Welsh for an attack on Kirk Castle. You needn’t deny it because I know it to be true.”

Jonathan’s expression never changed. “I will not deny it,” he said. “But you are telling me this for a reason, I suspect.”

“You would be correct.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Douglas lifted an eyebrow. “Something unsavory.”

Jonathan did grin then. “Isn’t that usual for men like your brother and I?” he said. “You were never involved in anything like that, Douglas. Your father never recruited you like he did your brothers.”

Douglas shook his head. “My father’s path for me was different.”

“How?”

“Papa kept Westley and I away from the Executioner Knights,” he said. “I spent most of my youth in the royal household. I know nearly everything there is to know about every major house, every army, every foreign diplomat… anything that involves Henry and his politics. But I have been home on occasion, for long periods of time, especially as my father grew older. He always wanted Westley and I to be invested in the politics while my brothers—and men like you—were more invested in insuring England would always remain strong.”

Jonathan understood. “Each man has a calling,” he said. “Mine has always been to accomplish a task, whatever it takes, no matter how distasteful. My younger brother may be the Wolfe of the Border and my older brother may be an earl, but I am the one who ensures they have a country to defend.”

Douglas smiled faintly. “And you do it well,” he said, but quickly sobered. “I realize that asking you to kill a man is unsettling at best, but it is a man who is harming good people. People who are our friends. And I would kill for my friends, Wolfie. Even you.”

Jonathan put a hand on Douglas’ shoulder. “I could not have said it better,” he said. “Therefore, I am going to find Eric and ensure he survives. Did he have something in mind?”

Douglas nodded. “Luring de Honiton to the battlements and pushing him over the side.”

Jonathan shrugged. “Simple and effective,” he said. “But I would not trust Eric do accomplish this on his own. De Honiton will more than likely fight back, you know. It will not be an easy thing if Eric is not prepared for resistance.”

Douglas lifted his eyebrows in resignation. “Although I admire Eric, the man is not a warrior,” he said. “He admits that himself. I’m not sure if he had visions of grandeur when planning to save Isabel, but I am uncomfortable with letting him do this on his own. Save him from himself, Wolfie. But do not let him know it.”

That seemed to settle it. Both Jonathan and Douglas knew what had to be done. As they stood up, preparing to move out, Davyss stopped them.

“I want to be part of this,” he said. “What can I do?”

Douglas and Jonathan looked at the young knight with the flashy sword and a taste for blood. Jonathan put a brotherly hand on the young man’s shoulder.

“If we fail, then de Honiton is yours,” he said. “Do you think you are capable of what we are asking?”

“To kill him?”

“Aye.”

Davyss grinned. “Slowly or quickly?”

In spite of the serious circumstances, it was the best laugh Douglas had in a long time. With a plan in place, the three knights moved out.

It was time to end this once and for all.