Raised By Wolves Volume four- Wolves (82 page)

He nodded. “Well, we are somewhat committed. There is a maninthe yard watchingus.”
There was indeed an armed man standing in the yard withhis eyes onthe two horsemenstaringat his building.
I sighed. “He should be able to answer the question. We rode across the street. “Hello, I amseeking the home of the Earl ofDorshire.”
He was a surly fellow, but he answered readily enough. “This is it… sir. What business might youhave withHis Lordship at this hour?”
I bit back the honest answer. “I am a guest from out of town. Would he stillbe about, or should we callinthe morning?”
“Would he be expectingyou?”
“Nay.”
The manfrowned. “I’llask then, sir.”
As he went to the door and knocked, I reflected that he was a luckymanindeed we did not come here to killanyone:not because he was surly, nay; but because if we had followed our original plan of burning the house around my father’s ears, he would have needed to die.
Another man appeared in the doorway and studied us in the lantern light. This one I recognized. He had been in my father’s employ before I went to Jamaica. He was a lean, hawknosed man, with a confident bearing: we had not been introduced: he had merely drifted in and out of my father’s study like an obedient wolf. My stomach knotted as I realized who he

might be.

 

might be.

His eyes widened with surprise and dismay as he recognized me, but he quickly schooled his features and descended two steps—with his hand hooked in his belt close to his pistol—to ask, “Lord Marsdale?”ina deep and richvoice.

“Aye,”I said. “Mister Jenkins?”
Gastontensed.
Jenkins bowed politely.
“We heard you were at Rolland Hall,” I said pleasantly.

“Mister Carmichaelsent a mannamed Burt to fetchyou.” “Did he? Might I inquire as to the whereabouts ofMister
Thorp?”he asked witha smallsmile.
“Well, after my last encounter with Mister Thorp, I had
vowed to kill him: and so I did.” I slowly raised my hands to
show them empty. “Please do not be alarmed. Though I have
vowed similar things about my cousin Shane, I have recently
reconsidered; and as for my father, I only wish to speak with
him. I wish to resolve things between us without further
bloodshed. If he will agree to meet with us in good faith, we will
surrender our weapons so that there will be no confusion as to
our intent.”
Jenkins regarded me with respect and awarded me a
thoughtfulnod. “I willspeak withhim. Willyouwait here?” I pointed to the street infront ofthe house. “Thank you.” He went inside and we rode back to the street and
turned to face the house.
“It is good you did not mention that we killed Thorp with
our hands tied and only a dildo as a weapon; else he would not
trust at all,”Gastonsaid quietlyand grinned.
trust at all,”Gastonsaid quietlyand grinned.
I laughed briefly, but it did little to lessen the tension
knottingthrougheveryfiber ofmybeing.
We looked to one another. I fought the ache in my heart
and throat. It would not do to meet my father with tears in my

eyes. “Thank you,”Gastonsaid.

I smiled. “Non, thank you.” I looked away. “Now do not make me cry.”
We sat in silence and I tried to think of anything other thanthe knowledge that mylove had honored eventhat request.
Jenkins returned to the front steps and motioned us forward. “He will see you,” he said quietly when we approached.
We dismounted and handed him and another man our weapons. Then we were inside a wood-paneled foyer and mounting an ornately-ballustraded stair to the main floor. I looked to Gaston one last time before we entered the study. He felt mygaze and met it. We smiled.
My father looked much as I had seen him last. His face was lined but not wizened, and he did not appear older. His shoulder-length, white wig was, of course, as it ever was. He was not a man for changing with the fashions of the day. He wore his usual dour black attire; with a fine white linen shirt—as unadorned as could be managed without making him appear poor. He was a bigman, witha great height and shoulder widthI had not attained. He had Sarah’s gray-blue eyes—or rather, she had his. He was not fat, but he was no longer lean—if he ever had been: I could not recall. His features were handsome. I had been: I could not recall. His features were handsome. I supposed I bore his resemblance; though I felt I appeared a bit more youthful, and not because of our actual ages. I wished to ask Gaston, but that would have to wait.
He was sitting in a high-backed, stuffed chair behind a huge desk: a twin of the mahogany slab he used at Rolland Hall. The entire roomlooked to be verysimilar to his studyat the main house. There was a large fireplace and hearth to our right, and windows to our left.
He regarded us from behind a frozen mask of dismay and disdain as we crossed the finely-wrought rug and stood behind the chairs before the desk.
We were not alone. Shane was thankfully not present, but Jenkins and two ofhis menstood inside the door.
“Dorshire,” I said in greeting, and bowed respectfully. “Allow me to introduce…”
“I know who he is,” my father said flatly. “What do you want?” He did not sound fearful, but he did not sound confident,

either. To my surprise and gratification, my Wolf saw a wolf in

decline.
“What do I want?” I asked with incredulity. “It is my
understandingyoupaid good cointo have me brought here.” He snorted. “Not here.”
“England, then.”
He snorted againand shrugged. “I want a son.” “Well, I have long wanted a father, but it appears we are
at an impasse. I am tired of the death and violence. I am sure
youfeelyouare wearyofmydefiance. What shallwe do?” “You could stop defying me,” he said with a trace of
amusement I recalled fromour last meeting. It seemed now as it
did then:a grudgingrespect.
“If we are speaking solely of my love for this man, nay I
cannot. I would cease to be the man I know as myself. I would
cease to be. So therefore I cannot strive to please you in that
regard. I amsorry.”
His features had hardened as I spoke, and the little spark
of respect and kinship we might have shared was snuffed out.
“Youwill,”he said.
I sighed and looked to Gaston. He nodded with a sad
smile. I met my father’s glare. “Then you will have to kill me.
You will have no son. You will have achieved nothing. Truly
Father, why? I can understand your dislike of sodomy—many
menfeelas youdo; but your unreasoninghatred:why?” “Why?” he snarled. “You are the fruit of my loins: my
sorry legacy in this world! And you are as stupid and stubborn
as a peasant!You think only ofyour damn perverted pleasure. If
youwillnot behave as befits a lord’s son, thenaye, I willhave no

son!” His anger did not scare me—even my Horse. It was the

ravings ofbitter old wolf.
“So tell me,” I said with a sigh. “Did you love Shane’s
father, or did he love you?”
I thought he might explode with rage. He frothed for a
time, the veins bulging in his neck, and his eyes protruded. Then
he roared, “Jenkins, put them in the cellar! Chain them there!
Chain them apart! I will have no acts of perversion under my
roof!” I heard Gaston’s sharp gasp. I knew he knew as I did,
that we could fight, and if we were to fight, the time was now. I
was not reeling in fear, surprise, or rage, though. I sat my Horse
well. We stood in a quiet place with a battle before us and a
shininglight beyond it.
I turned to Gaston. Peripherally, I saw a stoney-faced
Jenkins and his men approaching with pistols drawn. I held up a
hand and he paused.
“Mylove,”I said quietlyinFrench. “This is the test.” I saw Gastonfightingto controlhis Horse. “I know.” “Have Faithand Trust inLove.”
“Oui,” he said and the tension left his shoulders. And
theninanamazingshow ofthat verything, he regarded myfather
with pity before turning to Jenkins with a bowed head and open
hands. Thus we trulysurrendered to the willofthe Gods.

One Hundred and Thirteen Wherein We Face Truth

When they saw we would go quietly, Jenkins and his men did not lay a hand on us. They led us down through the kitchen to the cellar. It was stone walled, and as big as half the house, with a low ceiling and great posts to support the floor beams. The walls were filled with shelves full of foodstuffs and household items.

Jenkins ushered us inside and regarded us witha worried sigh. “Please have a seat. I assure you, no harm will befall you this night. I ask that you but trust me for a short time.” He searched our faces.

Gaston and I exchanged bemused looks and nodded as

 

one. He turned back to his men at the door. “Go tell them

 

what our lord said,” he ordered one man. “Wait in the kitchen. Warnme ifhe comes down,”he told the other.

“What should I say?” the second man asked with a worried frown.
“Stammer a great dealand trip him,”Jenkins said.
The manswore. “He’llhit me.”
“I’llshoot you,”Jenkins assured him.
The man did not bridle at the threat; rather, he seemed

annoyed and resigned. “I don’t like this.”

annoyed and resigned. “I don’t like this.”
“Youthink I do?”Jenkins asked.
The man sighed and withdrew, and Jenkins closed the

door and turned back to us. Seeing we were still standing, he said, “Please sit. This might take some time.” He looked about and plucked two bottles of wine from a shelf, handed us one, and sat ona barrel.

With another exchange of bemused looks, Gaston and I doffed our hats and wigs and sat onsome crates facinghim.
“What is occurring?”I asked.
Jenkins finished a long pull on his bottle and sighed before studying us with curiosity. “Do you know the Earl of

Whyse?”I had never heard the name, and I shook my head sincerely.“Well, my lord, he appears to have taken quite a keen

interest inyou. And he knows a great dealabout you.” “I have truly never heard of him, Mister Jenkins. Who is
he?”I asked.
Jenkins grimaced and considered his words. “It is said in
certain circles that he performs the same services for the king
that I performfor your father.”
“The king?”I asked. “The KingofEngland?” He regarded me as ifI were daft.
I sighed. “So the king’s man has taken an interest in
me?”
“Aye,” Jenkins said. “He approached me over a month
ago. He knew youwould be brought to England—as we did.”

“How?”I asked.

 

“How?”I asked.

He shrugged. “We received a letter fromthat damn fool Modyford. I doubt that is how Whyse heard of it—well, at least not directly.”

Gaston and I exchanged a glance. It appeared Morgan had told Modyford evenbefore we went to Panama.
“Whyse knew there was bad blood between your father and you,” Jenkins continued. “He told me he wished to avoid an unfortunate incident uponyour arrival.”
“So he wished to protect my father fromme?” I asked. I did not like the sound ofthat, despite Jenkins’hospitalityand our not beingbeatenor inchains.
“Nay,” Jenkins said with an annoyed frown. “He wished to protect
you
—both of you. He was concerned that your father might harmyou—as your father does intend—or that you would be forced to harmyour father, and the result would be difficult to hide.”
That did indeed sound as if the Gods had sent us a protector, but it filled me with alarm at not knowing the reason. “Why?”I asked.
“Damned if I know,” Jenkins said. “I was hoping you would tellme.”
I took a deep breath and thought ofthe ramifications:for one thing, it appeared we were safe from my father’s plans and wrath.
“So myfather does not know,”I said.
Jenkins shook his head sadly. “I have been his loyal man for over tenyears. I have doubted himononlyone matter—well,

two—that being his handling of his affairs concerning you, and

two—that being his handling of his affairs concerning you, and his handling of Shane. Your father is a reasonable and wise man in all things save that of you and your cousin and the issue of sodomy. The very subject seems to drive him mad. It surely induces himto take risks that endanger his name. So, aye, I have said nothing to him—as the Earl of Whyse directed—using the king’s name. But nay, that is not the only reason I have not spoken. I have said nothing because I wish for the matter to end —at least the part involving you. Shane…” He sighed and shrugged. “That willnot likelyend untilhe dies ofdrink.”

“I wish for it to end, too,” I said. “It has cost lives, and it is likely it will continue to do so. It has forced everyone who cares for me to be uprooted and threatened time and again. It endangers my children. It casts a pall over my entire life. But even you admit it is a madness of my father’s. Do you think he willbow to the king—ifthe king is indeed involved, for whatever reason—onthis matter?”

He frowned at me and finally shook his head. “Nay, I do not believe even the king could sway him. And from what you told your father, you are as stubborn and as mad as he? If the king orders you to put the matter aside and appease your father, willyou?”

“If by the matter I must put aside, you mean Gaston, nay, I willnot,”I said.
“Thenyouare indeed as mad as he is,”Jenkins snapped. “He will not live forever, my lord. Why can you not appease him? Your love of this man here is not natural. It is not a right granted byGod. Whydie for it?”
I sat back and snorted. “My father is a stubborn man,
I sat back and snorted. “My father is a stubborn man, Mister Jenkins. He will likely try to live until he is eighty or more to prevent me fromhaving any enjoyment in my life that does not meet his moral standards. I will not live for him. I owe him nothing. His parentage of me was a reluctant duty I doubt he wished to perform. He has never liked me or wanted me as his son—even before he knew of my
perverted
desires. He has always wanted Shane as his offspring. I am sorry for both their sakes that there is no legal—or
natural
—way for them to both have what theywish.”
Jenkin’s jaw fell agape. “What are you saying? Why would you assume such a thing? He despises you both. He would never take Shane as his heir.”
I was surprised by his apparent sincerity: I supposed much had changed in my latest absence. Still, I snorted again. “Now, perhaps; and I am glad to hear it. I do not believe that was true when we were younger, though. He allowed Shane to drive me from his house. He apparently knew that Shane and I were lovers, and it was surely he who poisoned Shane’s heart; and then the bastard sat back and allowed Shane to abuse me in the hopes it might
put me off men
. That much my
dear
father actually admitted—when I had returned after ten years. Ten years in which he did not seek me. Ten years in which he kept Shane at his right hand.”
His mouth was hanging open again. “You and Shane were
lovers
? My God, that explains much…” He shook his head and looked awaywitha furrowed brow.
“I believe Shane’s father and mine were lovers as well,” I added.
I added.
“I heard your accusation, my lord,” he said stiffly. Then he gave a resigned sigh. “I have heard other rumors passed down through the servants to that end. And I suppose I heard of Shane and you, but I thought they referred to the other and dismissed it as more foolishprattle.”
I sighed and looked to Gaston.
He appeared as confused as I. “Your father must have lost him,”he said quietly. “Or perhaps he never had him.”
I realized I would never know.
Jenkins was studying us. “Do you know what he wished to do to the two ofyou? Nay, nay, how could you?”
“Break me to his willand killmylover,”I said.
“Aye and nay,” he said, and guilt crept over his face. He considered the wine bottle in his lap. “He wished to force you to killyour lover.”
Gaston’s sharp gasp was echoed bymine.
“The damned monster,”I said. “And he thinks sodomyis perversion. I cannot understand how…”
Jenkins was shaking his head tightly. He met my gaze. “Your father does not despise sodomy in itself. He speaks openlyofviewingit as anunfortunate vice, muchlike whoring.”
“But…”I began.
He shook his head and held up a hand. “Nay, the thing that drives him mad is your indiscretion; your apparent feeling that this love you feel is a thing you deserve or have a right to possess; and your defiance ofthe laws ofman and God—and of
his
will. He did not care who Shane buggered, as long as Shane never saw the same boy twice. And he spoke of you with regard, and harbored hope that your time in Christendom had ended your foolish fancies; untilyou wrote himand indicated you had a lover. Then he became concerned. He sent you a wife to cure your confusion; and then... Well he began to hear things from Jamaica that indicated you had not put your lover out and that you were being very indiscreet. Then he began to conceive of ways to bring you to heel. He is appalled that you would abuse the familyname and your title inthis manner.”
“But is it because I have a thing he could not have?” I asked. His words explained so very much, but the knowledge fanned myanger instead ofeasingit.
Jenkins frowned. “We cannot know that, my lord. We can suppose it, but we cannot know it. And I will not disparage your father’s name byspeakingofit anywhere other thanhere.”
“What are
your
feelings onsodomy?”I asked.
He sighed. “I feel a man can enjoy pleasures that God did not intend.”He shrugged—and would not meet mygaze.
“But in the end,” I supplied, “he must put aside his
foolish fancies
, and become a moral man who beds his wife— and only his wife—for the production of progeny—as God intended?”
Jenkins met my gaze with compressed lips. “Collins said youhad some odd notions.”
I snorted. “How is Collins?”
Jenkins took another pull on his bottle and sighed.