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BOOK: Claire Delacroix
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That could definitely be arranged.

“Luc Fitzgavin! What is this you do?”

Luc’s head snapped up at his sire’s shout. He grimaced at the sight of an enraged Gavin striding lop-sidedly across the bailey. Behind that man danced the princess Brianna in markedly sensible garb, clearly anxious to see the result of what she had wrought.

For Luc had no doubt that ’twas her hand behind his father’s visit. ’Twas clear she had informed Gavin that Luc yet remained at Tullymullagh. Luc’s lips tightened to a grim line.

Aye, he should have expected her to make trouble wherever she could. She was bound to see him gone, after all.

Although this was not the circumstance under which he had hoped to discuss Llanvelyn with his sire, it seemed Luc would have little choice. All the same, he had no intent of providing a certain princess with the result she desired.

He was not leaving Tullymullagh without Llanvelyn’s seal.

Luc braced his feet against the ground and awaited his father. Gavin was in fine form, his heavy features dark with rage, his fury making him fairly spit when he spoke.

Fortunately, Luc had borne the brunt of his sire’s ire before and lived to tell the tale. Brianna, Luc noted, hesitated on the periphery of the orchard. Evidently she was intent upon hearing every word but, belatedly, was seized with some discretion.

Well, she would witness no display of temper from Luc. He would not provide whatever entertainment she sought. Luc was bound and determined to not play to the lady’s rules.

’Twas a matter of principle.

“Luc! You faithless cur!” Gavin bellowed. He let loose a string of profanity, then poked his finger angrily through the air toward his errant son. “From the very day you drew breath, you have been a curse upon me! Why do you remain at Tullymullagh? Did you understand naught of what was transacted yester morn?”

“I understood that you intended Burke to win Tullymullagh,” Luc retorted calmly.

Gavin paused momentarily at the truth of that, then scowled and continued onward. “Get yourself gone from this place and seek a gift for the princess! Take a steed, any steed, take mine own, but get on your way. A prize beyond all else hangs in the balance, you witless fool!”

“ ’Tis a prize I do not wish to win,” Luc countered.

His sire’s eyes narrowed at this claim. “What manner of fool declaration is that?” he roared after a moment’s pause, then flung his hands skyward. “Your dame’s intellect is showing in that claim! You wear the mark of her unworthy kind upon your very brow, as ever you did!”

That accusation prompted Luc to respond heatedly. “My
dame’s character—much less the coloring of my hair—has naught to do with this.”

Gavin snorted and propped his hands on his hips. “Blame
me
for your circumstance, will you? ’Tis always thus with you—never can you see the opportunities hung right before your very eyes.”

“I see the opportunity well enough,” Luc retorted. “But all the same, this is not one I desire.”

Gavin fired a baleful glance at his eldest son. “Naught has changed in all these years,” he charged in a low voice. “To Llanvelyn alone do you cling,
afraid
to reach for more.”

Luc bristled at the accusation, though he fought to hide his rising anger. He was very aware of a certain golden-haired presence. “I have
never
been afraid of reaching for what I truly desire. That ’tis not the warring legacy you would have me pursue says more of your character than of mine.”

Gavin snorted, though his eyes flashed dangerously. “ ’Tis the taint of your dame’s blood.” He spat on the ground between them. “You hold yourself above the necessary brutalities of life.”

“There is naught ‘necessary’ in the brutality of your life,” Luc retorted angrily. “And certainly naught necessary in slaughter that serves no more than your own greed.” Gavin inhaled sharply, but Luc took the remaining step between them and stared into his father’s hardened gaze. “How many must die before you deem your coffers full enough?”

Gavin’s eyes flashed and he responded, as he oft did, with his fist. Luc heard Brianna gasp as his father’s blow landed against his jaw.

Ye gods, but the man had not weakened with age! Luc refused to give either his father or Brianna the benefit of
seeing how much the blow hurt. He took but one step back, straightened, and looked his sire steadily in the eye.

“ ’Tis not half what it used to be,” he lied. “Are you eating well enough these days?”

Rage lit Gavin’s eyes. “Yet you do not strike back,” he declared with scorn. “No better than a woman are you.”

“Unlike you, I see no good in violence.”

“Coward!”

“I chose my path,” Luc said quietly. “And still I cleave to it.”

Gavin snorted. “And still you have not the sense to be afraid of me. Truly
naught
has changed.”

Luc rolled his eyes as though the idea were ludicrous. “There is naught to fear from the likes of you.” He nodded deliberately toward the wide-eyed Brianna, who looked suitably startled at what she had set in motion. Luc turned back to his sire and managed a cool smile despite the ache in his jaw. “Unless you have become so foolish as to leave witnesses of your deeds.”

Gavin spun, eyed the princess, swore, then pivoted back to face his son. “One day,” he growled with a shake of his heavy finger, “one day I shall shake your cursed composure. You have always been too clever for your own good.”

Luc’s lips thinned. “A clever man has no need to win his way with his fists.”

Gavin looked as though he were sorely tempted to strike his eldest again. He shook his head, though, and stalked a few paces away. When he turned to survey Luc anew, suspicion was bright in his eye. “Why did you come if you did not mean to compete for a bride? Why respond to my summons at all?”

Luc arched a brow and could not keep a thread of humor from his tone. “I but desired to speak with you, Father.”

For, as remarkable as that fact was, ’twas true.

Gavin’s brow furrowed. “With
me?
What idiocy is this?” He jabbed an indignant finger through the air. “My missive made the situation most clear!”

“As it made equally clear your intent to break an old pledge.” Luc met his father’s gaze squarely. “I came only to remind you of a promise you made to me.”

Although Gavin did not look away, a tinge of red claimed his neck. “I cannot recall every word tossed aside to appease a child,” he snapped.

“ ’Twas no appeasement and you know it well,” Luc retorted in a dangerously low tone. “You promised me Llanvelyn in a decade’s time. Eleven years have passed since that pledge was made, and I have yet to hold Llanvelyn’s seal in my own hand.”

Luc extended his hand, palm flat.

Gavin’s lips tightened as he stared at Luc’s outstretched hand, then he shook his head. “Llanvelyn! What do you care for a petty Welsh barony?” He gestured to Tullymullagh’s high keep. “
This
is a prize for a man who walks proudly! This is the prize you should pursue!”

“This is a prize you may keep for Burke,” Luc retorted firmly. “I have no desire for it.”

’Twas most odd but those words had a ring of untruth when they fell from Luc’s lips, but he stubbornly held his ground.

“Llanvelyn is humble.”

“ ’Twas
pledged
to me.” Luc folded his arms across his chest. “What is your pledge worth these days, Gavin Fitzgerald?” Luc arched a brow. “Surely not even less than I recall?”

Gavin glared at his son in outrage, his fists clenching and unclenching. The moment stretched long between the pair and Luc was well aware of Brianna’s assessing gaze.

“I owe you
naught
,” Gavin snarled.

“I but offer to relieve you of a burden, Father, a manor that must remind you of simpler times.” Luc lifted that brow again. “And more common roots than you might prefer to profess in these days.”

Gavin fired a sly glance his son’s way. “Pursue the quest and, win or lose, I shall grant Llanvelyn to you in exchange.”

Luc snorted. “Another promise that you might break? Nay, your obligation is already long past due. Grant me the seal now.”

Gavin’s lips drew to a disapproving line. “How should I even know that you are a fit lord of Llanvelyn?”

Luc refrained from commenting on his father’s belated interest in the state of his first holding. “You could see the estate yourself. It prospers these days.”

Gavin grimaced. “I would not burden myself with the sight of the pitiful place again.”

“Your sire thought it a fitting prize for a man of ambition,” Luc felt compelled to observe.

Gavin rolled his eyes. “My sire was a man who understood naught of the world. A man of meagre ambition.” His gaze turned assessing. “Perhaps ’tis
his
taint that courses through your veins.”

Luc had a rather good idea where any taint in his veins might have originated, but he bit back his words. In truth, he had already provoked his father enough.

Gavin waved dismissively. “But you speak aright, in this at least. ’Twas by the king’s decree alone that you and Rowan were even included in this folly.” Gavin took a deep breath and eyed the stone keep with pride. “Aye, Burke alone will make a fitting master of Tullymullagh.”

The assertion was curiously irritating. Luc certainly had the training and the wits to administer an estate like Tullymullagh.

Although he had never been irked by his sire’s low assessment of his talents before. He glanced to the wide-eyed princess, her lips parted, and readily recalled their brief kiss.

A kiss that Burke would likely savor over and over again. Luc’s annoyance rose markedly at that thought, yet he forced himself to think of the issue at hand.

He was
not
interested in a spoiled princess.

Burke was welcome to Brianna.

“And Llanvelyn’s seal?” he prompted sharply.

Gavin frowned and sighed. “When Tullymullagh is settled upon Burke,” he conceded with obvious reluctance. “The seal of Llanvelyn shall be yours. And not one moment before.”

Luc was surprised that the concession did not please him more than it did. That must be because the value of his father’s pledge had yet to be proven. Obviously, holding the seal in his own hand would be the only proof of Luc’s success.

He bowed slightly to his father. “I thank you for your generosity.”

But Gavin’s lip curled with scorn. “Do not thank me, Luc. And do not blame me in your dotage when you regret all you have cast aside.” He fixed his son with a stern glance before turning away and snorted once. “Llanvelyn will no doubt prove to be a poor prize.”

And Gavin limped out of the orchard, not even acknowledging Brianna before continuing across the bailey to the hall.

But Gavin’s departure brought Brianna to life. She ran across the orchard toward Luc, her eyes wide with alarm. Despite his annoyance with her attempt to force him to her bidding, Luc’s errant heart took a skip as she drew near.

“Did he hurt you?” she demanded breathlessly, hovering a few feet before Luc as though she wanted to come to his
side but dared not do so. She truly looked as though she were concerned for his welfare, though Luc could not believe ’twas so.

All the same, his heart began to pound.

Luc grimaced, ran his tongue over his teeth and assured himself that they were all yet in place. He spat in the grass and was relieved to see no blood in his spittle. “Nay. Indeed, ’tis time enough he grew feeble.”

Brianna heaved a sigh that might have been born of relief. “I cannot believe that he struck you!” she exclaimed.

Luc granted her a wry glance. “When you merely wanted him to have me cast bodily through the gates.”

Brianna flushed scarlet and looked guiltily at her toes. ’Twas all the confirmation of her plan Luc needed.

All the same, he was no closer to knowing why she wanted him gone so badly. Brianna licked those lips, then unexpectedly impaled Luc with a glance. “ ’Tis appalling he should treat you thus! Are you not his eldest son?”

Luc shrugged. “And neither favorite nor the spawn of a heated infatuation. Indeed, there is none he would rather strike.” The princess’ eyes were still filled with concern and disbelief. Luc smiled wryly. “I remind him of beginnings he would prefer to forget.”

“Oh!” She blinked. “Are you bastard born?”

Instead of answering, Luc folded his arms across his chest and considered the woman before him. “You are full of questions this morn, my lady. Is this some further part of your plan to see me fleeing from Tullymullagh?”

A flush stained her cheeks as it had the night before, but this time she held Luc’s gaze with resolve. “I would simply know more of you,” she declared with bravado.

Luc could not help the slow grin curving his lips. He took a long step to close the distance between them and savored the alarm that flashed through her eyes.

Brianna held her ground, though, seemingly determined to hide her response.

Undeterred, Luc treated her to his most engaging smile. “But, then, I should have expected no less,” he said silkily. “Seeing as I am, after all, your
favorite
.”

Luc leaned down to kiss the tip of Brianna’s perfect nose, then pulled an increment away to look deeply into her eyes. She caught her breath in a most satisfactory way. “Is that not so, my lady?”

BOOK: Claire Delacroix
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