Page 11 of Wolfehound
They were trapping him inside his own bailey.
The realization roused his anger. By the time Carlton turned around, Patrick was almost upon him.
“Before you chastise me, know that I am acting under orders,” he said before Patrick could speak. “My orders come from Edward and you know it.”
Patrick came to a halt. “I do,” he said. “How does the child fare?”
“Well enough,” Carlton said. “But we must get her out of this rain.”
Patrick motioned toward the hall. “Bring her,” he said. “My father wants to see her.”
Carlton’s eyes widened. “Warenton ishere?”
Patrick nodded. “He is,” he said. Seeing Carlton’s shock, he elaborated. “We covered more ground than you did because we did not have the burden of a wagon, but even so, we only arrived here this morning. Your wife has been most hospitable.”
The mention of Fair Lydia had Carlton’s heart lurching. “My dearest,” he murmured. “Where is she?”
“In the hall.”
Carlton didn’t say anything for a moment, his focus on the hall that had been built against the wall with a steeply pitched roof. There was smoke escaping from the chimney and warm light emitting from the windows, but the allure of it belied the fear of what was inside.
De Wolfe.
“Patrick,” he said evenly, “you are welcome at my home. We are allies. But you will understand why I ask this question.”
“What question?”
“You’ve not done anything to my wife, have you?”
Patrick’s brow furrowed. “Why would we?” he said. “Carlton, we’ve not come to harm you or your wife, nor would we ever. I hope you know that.”
Carlton let out a heavy sigh, one that conveyed his relief. “Did you tell her why you’ve come?”
“Nay. She knows nothing.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I think you know why.”
At this point, Colm had already fetched the child, who came forward in the arms of the nurse as the tall, blond squire tried to keep the rain off them both. Carlton held out a hand to keep them from going any further.
“I do know why,” he said to Patrick. “But I want to hear it from you. I am under the king’s orders and, as he is my liege, I intend to carry them out. If you’ve come to take the child, know that I will have to fight you. She is intended for Sempringham.”
Patrick simply shook his head. “Get her inside,” he said quietly. “No one is fighting for anything right now. But my father wants to see her. And he wants to talk to you.”
Carlton rolled his eyes, but he motioned Colm and the wet nurse and the infant forward. As they started to move, with the squire still trying to keep them dry, Carlton and Patrick began to follow.
“Atty, you know I would kill or die for your father, but this situation cannot go too far,” Carlton said with soft urgency, using Patrick’s childhood nickname. Little Patrick de Wolfe had had a speech impediment and couldn’t say his own name, so his family and friends used the name “Atty” to this day. “He cannot take the infant hostage. Paris de Norville thinks so, too, or I would not have been ordered to take the child out of Wales so swiftly.”
Patrick nodded. “I know,” he said quietly. “We agree with Paris, but you should know that my father nearly throttled him when he found out what Paris did. Kieran, too. Scott and I convinced him to come to Folkingham because that was where you were taking the infant. It also got him away from Paris and Kieran. There’s nothing as ridiculous or dangerous as an old-man fight, and that was what we were facing. My father wanted to kill them both.”
“Does he intend to take her?”
“I do not know. And that is the truth.”
They’d reached the hall by this time. Carlton could see the other de Wolfe sons, Scott and Troy, right inside the door. Carlton grabbed the arm of the wet nurse before she could venture into the hall because of the precious cargo she was holding. Instead, Carlton took the baby himself.
If Warenton wanted her, then he would have to fight him for her.
