Page 349 of Historical Hotties
Braxton frowned and looked away. “I would not be that much trouble.”
Bastian cocked an eyebrow at his father. “I did not say you would,” he said. “I only asked that you wait for us to settle in. Do not start weeping like a woman because I asked you to wait. I cannot stand it when you weep.”
“Bah!” Braxton spat. “I do not weep and you know it. Now you are making me appear weak and foolish in front of your new wife!”
Before Bastian could speak, Gisella interrupted. “Sir Braxton, I certainly do not view you as weak and foolish,” she assured him. “We are happy to have you accompany us to London. Mayhap you will tell me more stories of Bastian when he was young. I’m particularly interested in the story about the stolen horse.”
Bastian, mouth full, made a face into his trencher. “Hedidsteal it.”
Braxton, his gaze on his son, shook his head in resignation. There was no use in replying because Bastian truly believed he had been wronged, so the old man returned to his bread and butter, winking at Gisella across the table when she smiled at him.
“He did not,” he whispered to her.
As Gisella giggled, Braxton smiled in return, chewing his bread. Bastian heard his father but did nothing more than cock an eyebrow. Gisella watched the two of them a moment, their humorous rapport, before speaking.
“I think I can solve Bastian’s issue and restore his lost horse,” she ventured, popping a piece of warm bread in her mouth as she looked at her husband. “I believe I can make you feel much better, Bastian.”
His brow furrowed. “How?”
Gisella tilted her head thoughtfully. “You feel wronged because your cousin allegedly stole a toy horse from you, correct?”
Bastian merely lifted a reproving eyebrow. “It is not an ‘alleged’ crime.”
Gisella could see that he wasn’t entirely serious and she fought off a smile. “It would make you feel much better to receive a real horse as a replacement, would it not?”
Bastian wasn’t following her train of thought. “What do you mean?”
Gisella’s smile broke through. “The white stallion that I brought with me from Bella Court,” she said. “He was a gift to me but to be perfectly honest, he scares me. He is very strong and quite excitable. I would like to give him to you so you do not feel so badly about having a toy horse stolen. A real horse is much better.”
Bastian couldn’t help it, his eyes widened. “That is quite generous, Lady de Russe,” he said. “That horse is magnificent.”
“He is yours now.”
Bastian was both deeply surprised and very pleased. “I am grateful,” he said. “But you truly do not have to do that. You were not the one that stole my toy horse.”
She laughed softly. “I know,” she said. “But mayhap my gift will make you feel a bit better about what you lost.”
He nodded pleasantly, his eyes glittering at her. “Indeed,” he said, gratitude in his expression. “I cannot thank you enough. But who gave you the horse? Should you not make sure they are agreeable to let you give it to me?”
Gisella’s smile faded. “Nay,” she said. “Gloucester gave me the horse although I did not want to accept it. He insisted. Now, he will see you ride the horse and understand that I truly meant what I said– I did not want it.”
Bastian sensed something behind that statement, something slightly sinister, but he didn’t pursue it. He made a mental note, however, to ask her later. He seemed to remember someone telling him that Gloucester had been chasing Gisella. Perhaps there was truth to that. By the look on her face, he could see that there was. He would discuss it with her later but, for now, he was quite happy to take Gloucester’s gift off her hands.
“Then I will take the horse and gladly,” he said. “You have my thanks.”
“You are quite welcome.”
Braxton, who had been sitting silently throughout the exchange, watched the expressions between Bastian and Gisella. There was something warm there, something almost tangible, like an invisible river that was somehow flowing between them. Upon the river was interest and attraction. One would have been blind not to have seen it and Braxton was glad for it. Much would be waiting for them in London and the sooner they established the strength of bond between them, the better. It seemed that Bastian actually had a chance for happiness with his new wife and Braxton hoped that happiness would have a fighting chance against Gloucester and Bedford and all that was kingly and political.
London, he suspected, was going to be quite an adventure for them all.
CHAPTER NINE
The Bird and Bucket Tavern
London, England
“He took it,”a soldier at a dirty, leaning table was wildly drunk, bellowing to anyone who would listen. “I saw him take a piece of her! He took it and put it into his coin purse. I saw him do it and no one can tell me otherwise!”
