Page 31 of Lion and the Lamb: Easter

Chapter 10

Lionel stood with Willard on one side of him and Raff on the other the next morning as he watched Lord John Guildersleeve ride into his courtyard with his son, Humphrey, at his side. Already, Lionel’s stomach churned. Humphrey was Lionel’s age, and much too old to be married to his little girl. Still, there was nothing Lionel could do to stop this.

He’d sent the missive weeks ago, not realizing when he offered his daughter to marry Guildersleeve’s son, that the old coot would choose his eldest son instead of the youngest. The man knew damned well Winifred was only fourteen. Lionel supposed now he should have worded his offer more carefully. If there was anything at all he could do to get out of this betrothal, he would. But after losing half the man’s shipment, he was in no position to be negotiating. One wrong move now could bring their two houses to battle.

“Hatchet, we’re here,” called out Lord John, dismounting along with his son, Humphrey. “We’re in a hurry. Where’s the girl?”

“Lords Guildersleeve, welcome to Castle Hatchet,” said Lionel, trying to sound happy although he was miserable from head to toe. “My stableboy will take your horses, and I’d like to invite you to join me in the great hall for a drink.”

“Enough with the pleasantries,” grunted Humphrey, throwing the reins of his horse to the stableboy. “Where’s the wench?” The overweight man coughed up phlegm, and spit it at his feet, getting some of the phlegm caught in his long mustache. It made Lionel want to retch. Still, he tried not to show any emotion.

“My wife is bringing my daughter to join us in a minute,” he said. “Are you sure I can’t offer you a drink?” God’s eyes, Lionel needed a drink right now, and he needed something stronger than mead or ale.

“Unless you’re going to offer us the twelve tuns of wine you stole from our last shipment, don’t bother, Hatchet,” snarled Lord John.

“And don’t think that giving me your child bride is going to make up for it,” spat Humphrey before he started laughing. “Although, getting a piece of nice arse that is tight and lean will be a welcome distraction for now.”

“Watch it, Guildersleeve. That’s my daughter you’re talking about,” spat Lionel. His hand wavered above the hilt of his sword and his anger flared. He was about to draw his sword and strike the man down, when Willard stopped him.

“Nay, my lord,” whispered Willard, always being the voice of reason. “No good can come of it. Please.”

“Good morning, gentlemen,” called out Rachael from the steps of the great hall. She led Winifred out of the castle. The girl was covered from head to toe in a long, black hooded cloak. Drew skipped along next to them seeming much too happy.

“Lords Guildersleeve, I’d like you to meet my new bride, Lady Rachael,” said Lionel, taking her by the arm.

“Aye, she’s an eyeful,” said Lord John, reaching out to kiss her hand as was proper. It bothered Lionel, and he didn’t want to let go of her.

“It’s all right,” said Rachael, looking at her husband with a sweet smile. “Lords Guildersleeve, I’m happy to meet you.”

When she held out her hand to them, Lionel almost gasped aloud. It was red with an ugly bumpy rash upon it.

“What’s this?” asked Lord John, stopping right before his mouth touched her. “What’s wrong with your hand?”

“Oh, it’s just a small rash. I think it is from hogweed. Neither of you is allergic to it, I hope.”

He dropped her hand and took two steps backwards, almost making Lionel laugh aloud. He knew for a fact his wife didn’t have a rash, because he’d seen her just hours ago when he woke up in bed next to her. Her skin was smooth and white like milk. She was just as beautiful as always. He wasn’t sure what his wife was doing, but found it amusing since he didn’t want either of the men kissing her hand anyway.

“Let’s see the girl,” growled Humphrey. “It took us two days of riding to get here and I want to seal this deal today. I’ll take her back with me and we’ll get married in three days’ time.”

“So soon?” asked Lionel in surprise. He had hoped to have time to try to find their shipment and then break the betrothal.

“He has six children at home, including a new baby,” stated Lord John. “They need a mother.”

“Don’t you have a nursemaid for that?” asked Rachael.

“I don’t want a nursemaid. I want them to have a mother,” snapped Humphrey. “Now, let me see the girl.”

Lionel looked over to Rachael in despair, regretting ever having made this offer of betrothal now. He wanted to ask her to help him but couldn’t say a word with the two men standing right there. Still, he had to try. “Lord Humphrey, perhaps my daughter isn’t right for you,” he said. “You might want someone older.”

“Nonsense!” spat Lord John. “The younger the better for my son. Right, Humphrey?”

They both laughed, and Lord Humphrey coughed up phlegm again and spat it on the ground between them. It took all of Lionel’s restraint not to belt the men and throw them both out of his courtyard on their ears.

“Winifred, please come meet the man you will marry,” said Rachael, bringing the girl forward.

“Rachael,” whispered Lionel. “Nay, I just can’t do it.”

“It’s all right,” she told him softly. “I’m sure Lord Humphrey will want to get a good look at his betrothed who will be his new wife and the mother of his children. Winifred, please remove your cloak.”