Page 26 of Wolfehound (De Wolfe Pack Generations #11)

“I said it because every woman risks her life when she gives birth,” Fair Lydia said after a long pause. “I risked my life when I gave birth to my son, many years ago. That is what women do, Dearest. They risk their lives so their children may live.”

That momentarily satisfied Cambria’s curiosity and she turned back to the mirror, inspecting the fit of the scarlet bodice. “I wish he could have lived,” she said. “I would have liked to have had a brother.”

“You have your cousins from Netherghyll,” Fair Lydia said. “They could be like brothers, I suppose.”

Cambria shrugged. “They are not particularly interested in me and I am not particularly interested in them,” she said.

“They seem to look down on Papa because he married for his property. Not everyone has a birthright, but those two are arrogant about it. If you want to know the truth, I never liked them.”

Fair Lydia fought off a grin. “Nor I,” she said. “It is a pity, however. We do not have a big family like some and can ill afford to cast off relatives. Even annoying ones.”

Cambria flashed her mother a smile. “Mayhap Liam and I will have a dozen children and you will have all of those little sprites running around your feet,” she said. “I will give us a big family, Mama. Wait and see.”

Fair Lydia snorted. “I suppose until then I shall have to content myself with puppies running around my feet,” she said.

“There are more puppies out there than we can handle and you have made more money for the coffers than your father has for your dowry. Truly, Liam will be a very wealthy man when he marries you.”

Cambria shook her head firmly. “I intend to spend all of my money before he can have it.”

“On what?”

“Jewels,” she said, watching her mother laugh. “I am serious, Mama. Jewels and silks and slippers and mayhap even fine horses.”

Fair Lydia shook her head at her frivolous daughter. “It is your right, of course,” she said. “The money is yours to do with as you please.”

Cambria was still smiling as she turned back to the mirror and pulled a gold silken scarf off a peg on the wall. She held it up to her neck, looking at the color against her skin, as she pondered what else to wear so she would look absolutely spectacular for Liam when he arrived.

“Still,” she said after a moment, “it is a pity that we will not have more family here for the wedding. Papa invited his brother, but he did not respond. Nor did those two arrogant sons of his. I feel bad for Papa.”

“Why?”

“Because he has a brother he never sees,” she said. “He acts as if he does not care about us. I suppose Colm was more of a brother to him than his own. Do you suppose he misses Colm?”

Fair Lydia nodded. “Of course he does,” she said. “But Colm’s father was ill and he had to go home to assume the lordship of the Trilateral Castles. And he married that woman he’d spoken of—Maeve, I think her name was. Remember that he spoke of her?”

“I do,” Cambria said. “The one he had been fond of as a young man, but she married and then was widowed. He married her when he returned home.”

“I do hope he found happiness,” Fair Lydia said, remembering the miserable man who had served her husband well. “Papa did not invite him to your wedding, sadly.”

“Why not?”

“I do not know. I did not ask.”

“Then it seems we shall have no family here. Only us.”

Thoughts of the earlier part of their conversation came around again and Fair Lydia pondered, once again, bringing up the truth about Cambria’s family. Cambria seemed to be speaking a great deal of it, of family and the lack thereof. As if it meant something to her.

“Is family so important to you, Bria?” Fair Lydia asked gently.

Cambria put the gold scarf aside. “I suppose,” she said. “I will confess that I always wanted brothers and sisters. Mayhap that is why I raise puppies. There are so many of them, all brothers and sisters, and I envy them. They can take comfort in their siblings and parents. It is a big family.”

After hearing that rather wistful statement, Fair Lydia was struck by the loneliness projecting from her daughter. Either she hadn’t noticed it before or Cambria had been good at hiding it. Whatever the case, it struck a chord in her. After a moment, she sighed heavily.

It was time.

“Come and sit next to me,” she said. “I must speak with you.”

Cambria didn’t sense anything serious. She simply did as her mother asked and went to sit on a stool, lifting up her heavy skirts so she wouldn’t crease them. With her voluminous dress spread out around her, she faced her mother.

“Are you going to tell me about procreation?” she said suspiciously. “Because I raise puppies, Mama. I know what mating is. I know what effort it will take to make a big family, so you need not embarrass yourself.”

Fair Lydia cocked an eyebrow at her cheeky daughter. “If you did not know how mating works, I would be very worried for you,” she said. “But I was not intending to speak to you about procreation between a man and a woman. Should I?”

Cambria shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “Grandmother told me.”

She meant Fair Lydia’s mother, because Carlton’s mother had died before Cambria was born. “When did she do such a thing?” Fair Lydia gasped. “She died when you were ten years of age!”

Cambria’s lips twitched as she struggled not to smile.

“In the months before she passed on,” she said.

“I was walking with her when we saw a soldier and a kitchen servant in a corner of the kitchen yard. She had her skirts up and he was between her legs. Grandmother had to tell me what they were doing because I saw everything and was curious. She never told you?”

Fair Lydia closed her eyes tightly, slapping a hand on her forehead in disbelief. “God be merciful,” she muttered. “Nay, she never told me. I am sorry she was forced to tell you at such a young age.”

“I’m not,” Cambria said, taking her mother’s free hand and holding it. “But that is not what you wished to speak of, is it?”

“Nay,” Fair Lydia said, opening her eyes to look at her daughter.

“Something else. Bria, I want you to understand something. What I must speak to you about can never leave this chamber. You can never speak about it, ever. It is something for you, and only you, to know. I must swear you to secrecy, my Dearest. Do you understand me?”

Cambria grew serious. “Or course, Mama,” she said. “What is so critical?”

“You.”

“What about me?”

Fair Lydia grasped her daughter’s fingers as she composed her thoughts. “You are a young woman now,” she said. “I believe you are capable of understanding what I am about to tell you, but, as I said, it is something no one else can ever know. If they do, then your life could be in danger.”

Cambria grinned, but it was a puzzled sort of gesture. “What could be so important?”

Fair Lydia kissed her hand before continuing.

“Let me start at the beginning,” she said.

“When your father first brought you home to Folkingham, he did not intend that you should stay. I know we’ve always told you that you were an orphan and Papa brought you home from battle, and that was the truth, but you were never meant to remain at Folkingham.

Unfortunately, when your father brought you home, I took hold of you and refused to let you go.

I had just lost your brother a year earlier, you see, and I thought your father had brought you home to me to ease my broken heart. ”

Cambria was listening closely. “But that was not true?”

Fair Lydia shook her head. “It was not,” she said. “It was the Earl of Warenton who told your father that he should allow you to remain, so we could raise you as our own child. He found another child to carry out your destiny.”

“Destiny?” Cambria said, her features twisting with confusion. “What destiny? Mama, you are not making sense.”

“I know,” Fair Lydia said quickly. “But I am trying to explain the circumstances of what I am about to tell you. Swear to me again that you shall never repeat this.”

“I swear. Of course, I swear.”

“You must not even speak to your father about it.”

“I won’t, I promise,” Cambria assured her. “But you are starting to scare me, Mama. What is so serious?”

Fair Lydia put a gentle hand on her daughter’s cheek. “I am not trying to scare you,” she said. “I simply want to stress how this information must never be spoken of.”

“May I ask why?”

Fair Lydia smiled faintly. “Permit me to finish the story and then you will know,” she said. “Your father and I are indeed your family, but before us, you had another family.”

Cambria’s brow furrowed. “I would assume so, since I know that I was orphaned,” she said. But then it occurred to her what her mother was trying to say. “Do… do you mean to tell me that you know my family?”

Fair Lydia nodded. “I know,” she said. “Your father knows, too. He does not want to tell you the truth simply to protect you, but I do not think that is fair to you. You are old enough now to understand. Everyone wants to know where they come from, what their bloodlines are. It is an inherent need to know who your family is and I do not think it is right for you to go through life thinking you were abandoned or unloved. I am certain neither is true.”

“Who is my birth family?”

Fair Lydia gazed deeply into her eyes as she spoke. “The man who gave you life, the father of your bloodlines, is Llywelyn ap Gruffydd. Some call him Llywelyn the Last. He was the last Prince of Wales and your mother was Eleanor de Montfort. Your maternal great-grandfather is King John of England.”

Cambria’s eyes widened immediately. “My… my what ?” she said. “Mama, that is not possible.”

“It is very possible because it is true.”

Cambria looked at Fair Lydia as if the woman was trying to pull the mother of all jests on her, but she also knew that wasn’t in her mother’s nature. Even if the story coming out of the woman’s mouth was ridiculous.

Absolutely ridiculous.

“Oh, Mama…” she said, shock turning to disbelief. “It is not true!”