Page 83 of Historical Hotties
Two Weeks Later
He’d just returnedfrom mass at St. George’s.
Hugh de Branton left his horse in the small stable yard, tended to by a servant. As he made his way across the bailey, his gaze moved to the manse that had belonged to his family for three generations. Big, squat, and covered in vines, it had always been a house of honor and comfort.
But that’s not what it was now.
Now, the chaos within was starting to make sense.
Amata had refused to come to mass for a couple of weeks now, ever since her visit to Edenthorpe to see her cousin had been cut short. His daughter, usually so bold and vocal, wouldn’t tell him why. She had sequestered herself, hardly coming out of her chamber, hardly visiting with her father, which she usually did gleefully and on a regular basis. As of late, she seemed subdued, avoiding eye contact, avoiding conversation. It seemed to him that she was trying to stay clear of him for some reason.
Now, Hugh knew why.
His daughter had been hiding something.
He entered the manse, through the cool and dark entry, heading up the mural stairs to the floor above. This was the level where the bedchambers were, at least most of them, and his daughter occupied a chamber on the northwest corner. He made his way to that room, knocking on the door with more restraint than he felt.
He had his anger in check, but barely.
“Amata?” he called. “Amata, are you there?”
“I am, Papa.”
Hugh could hear footsteps coming towards the door and the bolt was thrown. The panel opened and Hugh was faced with his daughter’s pretty face. More surprising to him, however, was the fact that there was someone in the chamber with her, a young woman he recognized, whose father was one of the premier goldsmiths in town.
Claudia Lockwood stood up and curtsied when she saw Amata’s father.
“My lady,” Hugh greeted, but his focus turned to his daughter. “I was unaware that you had a visitor.”
Amata smiled timidly. “Just Claudia, Papa. She has come to visit.”
Hugh eyed the goldsmith’s daughter. “She is welcome, of course,” he said, but returned his attention to his daughter. “Amata, I must speak to you. Privately, if I may.”
Amata looked a little uncertain, but she agreed, stepping out into the corridor and shutting the door behind her. But it didn’t shut all the way. It was open just enough for Amata’s visitor to hear everything that was said. Amata hadn’t planned it that way, and had she known what her father was about to say, she would have made sure that Claudia was nowhere near that cracked door.
But that oversight was to be her grave mistake.
“Aye, Papa?” Amata said. “What is it?”
Hugh was genuinely trying to hold his temper. “I have just come from mass.”
“I know, Papa.”
Hugh held up a finger in a knowing gesture. “You have not come with me to mass for several weeks now,” he said. “You have been pleading fatigue and illness, but now I see that you have a visitor today.”
Amata nodded hesitantly. “Claudia came this morning, after you left,” she said. “I am surprised you did not see her on the road.”
Hugh just looked at her for a few moments, pondering what he was going to say next. There was so much he needed to say that it was difficult to know where to start.
“I did not,” he said. “But it is of little matter. Something interesting happened in town today.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I was approached after mass by Father Lazarus,” he said. “Evidently, there is a good deal going on with you that I was unaware of, and all of it centering around that de Wolfe knight I would not invite to Silverdale.”
Something rippled through her expression. He could see it. He thought it might have been fear or shock, but he couldn’t be certain.
“What do you mean, Papa?” she said, sounding innocent. “Do you mean Cassius de Wolfe?”
