Haunted Knights (Montbryce~The Next Generation Historical Romance) (4 page)

It had been madness to agree to their incarceration in the first place. He had been so besotted he had allowed not one, but two of his children to be imprisoned in their own home. Had he feared losing the dowry estate of Kingston Gorse if his wife had repudiated him?

Rosamunda and Paulina were beautiful young women. If only Maudine visited them, she would see. But she refused to discuss it. As far as she was concerned, her daughters were dead.

He worried for his sons, increasingly aware of their censure and discomfort. He thanked God at least two of his children had been born whole. When the boys were infants, it was less likely they might accidentally reveal the truth. Now they were young knights who travelled throughout Sussex. They visited sons of neighbouring Norman families, often practising swordplay and other tactics. Many of their friends had sisters.

Maudine thrust out her chin as their sons entered the Hall. Lucien bowed to his mother. “
Maman
, I’m sorry—”

Maudine held up her hand, her mouth puckered into a tight line. “Sorry is not good enough. You are both aware of my expectations. What are we supposed to do, sit here and wait, not knowing when you plan to arrive?”

The servants examined the oaken beams, or the planked floor, or their feet as their mistress’s voice became more and more shrill.

Vincent and Lucien stood with heads bowed. Marc’s heart broke for them.

Finally, she ceased her tirade and beckoned to the cook. Their sons took their places in silence. Rabbit stew was hastily heaped onto the trenchers placed before the Lallements. The servants stepped back. Maudine glared at them, inhaled the aroma of the dish before her, then nodded. They retreated.

She turned to look at the men of her family. “You may start now.”

East Preston, Sussex, England

After the journey from Normandie, Adam hoped to ease his weariness with a long soak in the big wooden tub. Denis had tried hard to keep up his spirits on the way, but it had been an effort to concentrate on what he was saying.

Adam had dreaded the reaction of the servants at East Preston when they became aware of his deafness. They meant well and were devastated at his affliction, but he hastily took his leave of them after ordering up the tub.

If they followed the example of the servants at Belisle, they would now walk round on tiptoe, averting their eyes whenever they came into his presence. Or they would bellow at him in the belief it made a difference.

Thank God his other physical torment was not visible to them. His previous determination to remain chaste until his marriage did not mean he had lacked male urges. Far from it. As a youth he’d had a seemingly permanent hard-on. His cock had always stood ready to demonstrate its interest in an attractive female. He had never thrust his manhood into a woman’s sheath, but had enjoyed the ministrations of many eager to use their mouths on him. They had taught him how to please them without penetration.

His shaft failed to stir at the memory.

As he hauled his body out of the tub he looked down at the water running off the flesh between his legs. Everything looked normal, but his shaft seemed incapable of rousing itself.

Hopelessness washed over him. Denis had assured him constantly it was likely a temporary problem, but it had been weeks now, and he might as well be a monk for the interest his manhood had shown in any female he had encountered.

Perhaps encouragement might help matters. He cringed as he cupped his
couilles
with one hand and grasped his flaccid member with the other. That had usually caused things to stir, but now—nothing.

Sweat broke out on his brow as he strained to pump life into his shaft. Bile rose in his throat. Despair gripped him. He thrust back his head, willing the familiar urges to surge into his body.

Suddenly the door creaked open. He spun around. A red faced maidservant squealed her shock, eyes bulging, hands clamped over her mouth. A heap of drying linens lay at her feet. “I knocked,
milord
, but—”

The sweat on his body turned to ice as he splayed his hands over his groin. “Get out!” he bellowed. “Out!
Vite
! Stupid wench!”

The girl let out a strangled cry and fled, bumping into Denis.

Denis stooped quickly to pick up a drying cloth and thrust it at Adam. “Cover yourself.”

Adam threw the linen back at him, his heart thudding in his ears. He stretched his arms wide. “Take a good look. It will be on everyone’s lips that
milord’s
testicles aren’t what they should be.”

Denis handed the linen back and pointed to his own eyes, shaking his head. “She barely had time to see anything, Adam. And she spoke the truth when she told you she knocked.” He pointed to the door. “I was down the hall.”

Adam cinched the linen at his waist and slumped onto the bed. “I am a useless eunuch, Denis, a shadow of a man.”

Denis stood in front of Adam, hands on his hips. “I am not the person to whine to. I will aid you in any way I can.” He wagged a finger. “But I will not listen to your self-pity.”

Adam slouched on the bed, yet Denis had to reach up to put his hands over his brother’s ears. “Life has dealt you a double blow, brother.” He struck his chest with a fisted hand. “But you are a warrior.”

Adam hung his head. “I no longer have a warrior’s heart.” His words were a distant echo in his ears, but he heard the self pity and hated himself for it.

Denis retrieved more linens. “Now, dry yourself.” He lifted his hand to his mouth. “Get ready to dine in the Hall.”

Fatigue swept over Adam. “I cannot. I will eat in my chamber.”

Denis went to the armoire where servants had stored Adam’s clothing. He brought out a shirt, doublet and leggings, which he threw on the bed. He prodded Adam’s belly. “You are our father’s representative in this manor. You will eat with the rest of us in the Hall. I will send a servant to help you dress.”

Adam leapt to his feet. Had he understood correctly? “
Non
! I will dress myself.”

Denis smiled. “As you wish.” He pressed his palm to his chest and made a mock bow. “Or, as we have done for each other innumerable times before, I can be your valet.”

It was true. He and Denis had often acted as each other’s valet when away from home. Denis’ lack of stature had not been an issue. Adam had never given it a second thought when he had helped Denis dress. Why was he now uncomfortable with the notion of his half brother helping him don his clothing?

Denis had made it clear Adam’s deafness and impotency had no bearing on his feelings of brotherly love. If it were Denis who had been stricken, would Adam love him any less?

Adam raked his hands through his still wet hair. “I am a coward.”

~~~

Fearing he might sob out loud at the sight of his brother’s dejection, Denis grabbed a drying cloth and vigorously rubbed Adam’s thighs with it. “Listen, brother.”

He chopped his hand across his arm. “When Isembart Jubert lost his arm to an enemy sword, did he immediately get to his feet and carry on his life as it was before?”

Adam inhaled deeply. Denis had hoped mention of Izzy’s namesake would stir him. He rushed on. “
Non
, of course not.” He touched his arm, then his heart. “The body and the soul need time to heal. He was no longer capable of being a warrior, but Isembart became the only one armed rat-catcher I have ever heard of, acknowledged as the best in all of Normandie. It was his courage and tenacity that saved
oncle
Hugh’s life.”

Adam seemed to understand the gist of what he was saying. “And
tante
Devona’s.”

He shrugged into the doublet Denis handed to him, and went down on one knee. Denis did up the fastenings. How often he had wished for his brother’s height, though he did not envy him his present predicament.

Their eyes met. Denis determined to ignore the desolation that darkened Adam’s gaze. “Not that I seek pity for myself, but life has not been easy for me. There have been times when despair has threatened to overwhelm me, but I resolved long ago to be the best man I could be. Stature has nothing to do with courage, or honesty or valour.”

Adam came to his feet, resting a hand on Denis’ shoulder as he stepped into his braies and then his leggings. Denis reached to fasten the points.

“
Merci
, Denis,” Adam rasped. “Not only for helping me dress.”

Denis slapped him on the thigh. “You’re welcome. Let’s go.”

~~~

To his surprise, the maidservant who had seen him with his hands on his shaft winked at Adam as she served his food.

Denis leaned over. “She probably thinks you were doing what many men do for their pleasure.”

Adam felt relieved, though he had not grasped everything Denis had said. His deafness was readily apparent, but the fewer who knew of his other problem, the better.

The food in England was never as good as in Normandie, but tonight the venison was excellent. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask his steward, Alain Cormant, if he had employed a new cook, but he hesitated, aware he would be unable to hear the reply.

He had always enjoyed a good conversation, but now—

Perhaps if he watched Cormant’s mouth as he spoke, he might discern what the man was saying. It was beginning to be thus with Denis, but he had known his brother all his life, recognized his mannerisms and mode of speech. Strangers would be more difficult.

However, he had to try. He could not remain alone in his silent world. Marriage was out of the question, but his impairment did not mean he could not enjoy friends, family. Homesickness washed over him.

His departure had made things more difficult for his family, especially his father and mother, but he feared his resentment at Mathieu’s actions might erupt and cause irreparable damage. Thank God Denis had insisted on sticking with him. He might have gone mad otherwise.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to his left to look Cormant in the face. “The meat is tasty, Alain. Do we have a new cook?”

Alain Cormant was the son of Barat who had come from Normandie long ago to assist in the stewardship of the Sussex manors the Montbryce brothers had been granted by William the Conqueror.

Barat, and his brother Théobald, had played an important role in the rescue of Adam’s
tante
Devona. They had also helped in the rebuilding of East Preston, left derelict for many years after the Conquest.

Alain had been born at East Preston and taken over as Steward of all the Sussex properties when his father and uncle retired to Normandie. Adam trusted him.

Alain smiled, licking his lips. He did not raise his voice in reply, but spoke slowly and clearly. “Indeed. Friselle came to us on the recommendation of the Lallements.”

Adam frowned. “From Kingston Gorse?”

Alain’s nod confirmed it.

By rights,
noblesse
obliged they ride to Kingston Gorse to thank their neighbours, but the prospect filled Adam with trepidation.

Denis tapped him on the shoulder. Adam turned to look at his brother, suspecting what the persistent little devil would say.

“We should ride over there tomorrow to thank them. I have never met the Lallements.” He winked. “Do they have daughters?”

Adam cringed, thankful to reply in the negative. “
Non
. Two sons. Lucien and Vincent. Good men.”

Denis shrugged. “Too bad! From the stories, I thought the family at Kingston Gorse were Marquands?”

“Originally they were. Sir Stephen Marquand gave the estate to his daughter as her dowry when she married Marc Lallement.”

Denis came to his feet. “Then we should ride there on the morrow to thank Sir Marc and his good lady.”

Adam wrinkled his nose. “I doubt if either Sir Marc or Lady Maudine were responsible for the new cook.”

Denis regained his seat, his brow furrowed.

Alain Cormant interrupted. “
Milord
Adam is correct. Lucien Lallement directed Friselle to us.”

The corners of Denis’ mouth turned down. “The Lallement parents are not very sociable?”

Adam laughed out loud, suddenly aware it was the first time since his illness. “That’s putting it mildly. Lady Maudine Lallement is downright unfriendly, and Sir Marc behaves as if he is shielding some deep, dark secret.”

Denis laughed too. “We won’t concern ourselves with the parents, if the sons are good company. I am anxious to become acquainted with people in these parts.” He spread his arms wide and winked at Adam. “I wager they have never met anyone like me before.”

Adam could not help but smile. “You are no doubt right on that score.”

“We ride on the morrow then.”

Adam met the challenge in his brother’s eyes. “
Oui
, on the morrow.”

~~~

Relief washed over Denis. Much was riding on forcing Adam to face his impairment. It pained him to see his good natured, outgoing brother sink into despondent isolation. Heartened by Adam’s willingness to engage Cormant in conversation, he had gambled that a gentle push would persuade him to travel to Kingston Gorse.

He worried about what he had learned of the lord and lady, but if the sons were gentlemen, where lay the harm?

Denis enjoyed meeting new people, though invariably their first reaction upon seeing him was one of shock and embarrassment. They never knew where to look. He had learned to expect that. He relished their further surprise when it quickly became apparent he was not a mad freak, but an articulate and cultured man.

If only there existed a woman somewhere who might overlook his dwarfism and love him for the man he was. He had come across a few female dwarfs in his travels, mostly itinerant entertainers, part of a troupe. Their crude, bawdy humour amused him, but they did nothing to arouse his male interest.

He was destined to live a bachelor life. Now Adam had been condemned to the same fate. Was it meant to be? God’s will? The Giant and the Dwarf, boon companions to the end. A pang of guilt stabbed him—perhaps deep within his heart he was glad Adam had been rendered impotent.

One thing was sure. He would never desert his beleaguered brother.