Page 385 of Historical Hotties
The knock on the entry door inevitably came and a servant scurried from the dining room with the Roman tiles in the floor to answer it. They could hear voices, mostly Gloucester’s loud one, and Braxton called out.
“My lord,” he said in a rather booming voice. “Join us in the reception room if you would.”
Gloucester appeared in the doorway moments later, dressed in a fine tunic and cloak. He was without armor but the men accompanying him, three knights that Gisella knew to be part of Gloucester’s entourage, were in full protection. All four men entered the reception room, heading for Braxton and Gisella.
“Sir Braxton,” Gloucester greeted. “You are looking well this eve. Greetings, Lady de Russe.”
Gisella forced a smile at the man, still holding on to Braxton as she did so. “Welcome to Braidwood, my lord,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as nervous as she felt. “We are honored by your visit.”
Gloucester’s gaze was intense as he looked at her, studying her for a moment. “I have come to see your husband,” he said. “Where is he?”
Braxton answered for Gisella. “He is not here, my lord,” he said. Then, he indicated the chairs that were positioned in front of the massive hearth. “Will you sit? We were about to have supper. Will you join us?”
Gloucester shook his head, to both questions. “Where is Bastian?”
Braxton remained cool and casual. “He has taken a few men and has ridden on to Wallingford Castle for a discussion with Suffolk,” he said. “You are aware that Suffolk’s brother struck Lady Gisella, of course. Bastian has gone to speak with Suffolk about the man’s punishment. The king has gone with him, in fact. Bastian thought it would be a good opportunity for the boy to learn the art of negotiation.”
Gloucester’s features tensed. “The king has gone to Wallingford?” he asked, anger in his voice. “I did not give him permission to take the king anywhere other than Braidwood.”
Braxton would not be bullied by a man he didn’t have a good deal of respect for. “Yet you have entrusted my son to be the King’s Protector,” he pointed out. “Do you not trust him with the king’s life in any case? If Bastian is with the king, then the king is perfectly safe no matter where they are.”
Gloucester eyed Braxton. He was finished with pleasantries. “Let us cut to the meat of the situation, Sir Braxton,” he said. “I told Bastian to let me handle the situation regarding Suffolk’s brother. Bastian should have trusted me. Had he waited for my response to his missive from last night, he would have known that Suffolk has agreed to turn his brother over but he will not do it if Bastian comes at him with force.”
Braxton was listening seriously. “Where is the brother?”
Gloucester threw up his hands in a frustrated gesture. “At Wallingford because it is the residence he uses when he is visiting London,” he replied, irritated. “How did Bastian know to find him there?”
Braxton knew how but he wasn’t going to tell Gloucester for fear of incriminating his nephews, Brant and Martin, who had been more than willing to divulge what they knew.
“I am not sure,” he lied. “But he found out, somehow. Where is Suffolk?”
Gloucester sighed heavily. “Riding for Wallingford as well,” he said. “The man was in London and now he is heading to Wallingford to speak with his brother. Hopefully he will make it there before Bastian does, but who is to say? More importantly, when Bastian shows his face at Wallingford, Suffolk will more than likely be infuriated and think that I had a hand in it.”
“Then you must ride for Wallingford immediately,” Braxton said, but it sounded suspiciously like a command. “You must be there when Suffolk and Bastian come together, if for no other reason than to calm the situation.”
Gloucester growled as he turned for the door. “Damn him,” he said. “Damn Bastian. I told him to let me handle this situation. Since when did he become so impetuous and so disobedient?”
Braxton was following Gloucester as the man headed out of the room. Surprisingly, Braxton was doing it without help. He was walking unaided as he kept pace with the duke.
“Bastian is trained for war,” Braxton said quietly. “It is that quality that has seen your French campaign successful. He answers to no man and he waits for no man. You should have known better than to make him wait in this instance. His honor is at stake and you know it. He would not wait to redeem it. Would you have waited under the same circumstances?”
Gloucester paused at the entry door, looking at Braxton with a mixture of frustration and understanding. It was an odd expression, indeed. After a moment, he grunted.
“Suffolk will be lucky to survive this if he challenges Bastian,” he muttered. Then, he pointed a finger at Braxton. “Why did you not go with him? At least he would have had your level head.”
“My brother, Aramis, is with him. He will keep him sane.”
Gloucester appeared horrified. “Aramis de Russe would drown his own mother if he thought there would be gain in it for him,” he said, waving his knights on and the men in armor began running back to their horses in the courtyard. “If he believes sinking Suffolk will gain him loot or properties, he’ll encourage Bastian to drive his sword into the man’s gullet!”
With that, he was off, leaving Braxton and Gisella standing in the entryway, watching as Gloucester and his men departed the torch-lit courtyard of Braidwood in the hopes of averting a disaster at Wallingford Castle. As quickly as they had come, they departed, leaving an odd and tense silence in their wake.
But Braxton had a smirk on his face as he watched the man go even if Gisella wasn’t quite so humored. She was positive that Bastian would be thrown in the Tower once Gloucester caught up with him. She turned to her father-in-law.
“Bastian is in a great deal of trouble,” she said fearfully. “What do you think will happen when Gloucester catches up to him?”
Braxton shrugged as he closed the entry door. “It will be most terrible.”
Gisella looked stricken. “Why?” she demanded. “What will happen?”
