Page 74 of Retribution

Lerryn Castle, Cornwall

“You’ve not told her yet?”

Aidric shook his head.

“Nay,” he said, eyeing Gerard and Bennet. “How could I? She was pregnant and ready to deliver my son. I do not wish to upset her, not now.”

The men understood, for the most part. “You cannot put this off,” Britt said. “We must leave, Aidric, and you must come with us.”

Aidric held up a hand to silence him. “I know,” he said, bordering on irritation. “But let her give birth to this child and then I will tell her. At least let me enjoy the birth of my son before you drag me off to battle.”

No one could really blame him.

The new Lord Lerryn was very proud of his home, his properties, his wife, and his growing family. Two years ago, Cleodora had presented him with a white-haired infant he gleefully named Achilles and Aidric couldn’t have been prouder. The boy never left his side, nor did his wife, and he truly adored his little family in the wilds of Cornwall. But the only reason Edward allowed him to retreat to Cornwall was because Aidric promised to rally to Edward whenever the king needed him, as he did now. There was a great undertaking about to happen and Edward wanted Aidric to be part of it.

That was why Gerard and Bennet had come.

Bennet had another reason, however. His wife, Celyn, had become good friends with Cleodora shortly after she married Aidric, during the brief time they’d spent in London before returning to Cornwall. Celyn wanted very much to return home to see her family on the Welsh marches, but she also wanted to visit Cleodora, who was pregnant with her second child, so Bennet brought her along—and even now, she was assisting in the birth of Cleodora’s child.

But there was more.

Gerard, Bennet, and Aidric were under orders to go to the Welsh marches to intercept Eleanor de Montfort, who was heading toward Wales and a marriage with Llewelyn ap Gruffudd. Eleanor was the daughter of Simon de Montfort, Henry and Edward’s great enemy, and Edward was not keen on the marriage. He wanted it stopped until he could fully evaluate it, and any potential political implications, so he wanted his trusted men on the task. Bennet planned on leaving his wife with her family on the Welsh marches while he went about Edward’s task, but there were two problems at hand—Cleodora had delivered her child late and Aidric, fearful of his pregnant wife’s mental state, hadn’t yet told her he was leaving.

Now, all they could do was hope Aidric told his wife in time for them to capture Eleanor.

“I do not know why you are so excited,” Gerard said, though he was jesting. “It will be another white-haired lad who looks nothing like you.”

As Bennet chuckled, Aidric cast Gerard an expression of distinct displeasure. “At least I have sons,” he said. “What about you and that de Royans widow? Are you going to let her slip away?”

Gerard rolled his eyes. “Do not change the subject.”

“I’m not,” Aidric said. “I’m simply asking if you intend to marry that woman. She’s a fine prize, you know.”

“She’s too old.”

“She’s not too old.”

“Then maybe I’m too old.”

Aidric looked at Bennet, who was legitimately the oldest man in the group, for support. He grinned and shook his head.

“Manny, I married in my fourth decade,” he said. “I have three very young children and I do not regret one moment of it. You are not too old.”

Gerard didn’t want to talk about the de Royans daughter who was, in fact, a widow at nearly thirty years of age. She already had two fine sons, young boys who adored Gerard, but Gerard was being cagey about marriage. Orion, who was closest to him, thought it was because he felt he didn’t have anything to really offer a wealthy widow and was afraid of rejection, but anyone who saw the way Aurelia de Royans St. Cadix looked at Gerard would know his fears were for naught.

She was enamored with him.

“Did you ever think you would find yourself in a moment like this?” Gerard asked after a moment.

It was a change of subject, one that brought about momentary confusion from both Aidric and Bennet.

“What moment?” Aidric asked.

“This,” Gerard said, motioning to the small but fine hall they were sitting in. “Your own hall, a fine home, a wife and children. Did you ever think you would find yourself in a moment like this?”

Generations of de Sausters had made it an elegant, rich place. Lerryn Castle was strong, remote, and rich from the fishing that it operated through the nearby village of Fowey. It was a rather large industry that Aidric had inherited, something he’d known nothing about initially, but he’d learned quickly from Cleodora’s grandfather. Marc, sometimes called St. Marc, had been generous with his time and knowledge, and he’d been thrilled to have an elite knight as a grandson.

Sometimes Aidric still felt like it was surreal.