Page 41 of Wolfehound (De Wolfe Pack Generations #11)

T yrus was coming to think that he might have a serious situation on his hands.

His orders from Canterbury were to bring him the Welsh princess if she was located, and if young Herringthorpe produced a black-haired, blue-eyed woman, he was going to have to think quickly.

And then there was the trio at the other end of the table.

Liam’s appearance had them surprised, but when he offered to fetch his bride, that brought serious reactions.

Carlton almost grabbed him, while Scott and War had looked at each other with expressions that were bordering on concern.

Not quite, but almost. They were skilled knights, trained to keep their emotions under control, and perhaps to the casual observer their expressions would have meant nothing.

But to a trained observer like Tyrus, the twitch in Scott’s cheek and the slight lift of War’s eyebrow meant they were concerned with what Liam was doing.

To Tyrus, that meant there must be some truth about the Welsh princess as de Royans’ daughter.

Why else would they show concern?

So, he waited. He waited and he watched, wishing he had something to drink but understanding why he would not be provided with refreshments.

He was also suspecting he wouldn’t be provided with a place to sleep, and more than likely asked to leave when this was all over, so he started thinking about where he would stay for the night in order to remain close to Folkingham.

There was a village to the west of the castle, as he’d seen from the road, and he reasoned that he’d be able to find lodgings there.

But most importantly, he was thinking about what to tell the archbishop.

There is some truth to the rumor, Your Grace.

That was the only thing he could tell him at this point.

Fortunately for him, the wait wasn’t excessive.

Liam had told him that he would return shortly and he did.

There had been very little delay. When they heard the footfalls coming from the hall entry and caught a glimpse of figures in the darkness, Tyrus was the first one to his feet.

He was prepared to meet the real Gwenllian of Wales because Liam had been so aggressive, so blunt in their conversation that he wouldn’t put it past the man to present the woman he sought and then dare Tyrus to do anything about it. That was what he was fully expecting.

But that wasn’t what he got.

Liam appeared with a petite woman, with chestnut hair and hazel eyes.

“This is Bria de Royans, who is to be my bride,” Liam said, having lost none of his aggression in the short time he’d been away.

“Bria, this is Tyrus le Mon. The Archbishop of Canterbury sent him because he has heard a foolish rumor that you are the daughter of Llywelyn the Last. Sit down and answer his questions, sweetheart. This should not take long.”

The woman introduced as Bria took a seat on a bench a few feet away from Tyrus, who was looking at her with some astonishment.

As if expecting something, or someone, else.

But he sat down and faced her, gazing at what was inarguably a very lovely young woman.

She was also a small, almost fragile-looking lass.

He stared at her for a few moments before speaking.

“Forgive my intrusion, my lady,” he said. “I am here at the direction of the Archbishop of Canterbury in response to a tale we heard about Gwenllian of Wales.”

Bria was sitting straight, gazing at him curiously. “And you think I am she?” she said. “Liam told me the story. I find it remarkable, to be truthful.”

Tyrus glanced at Liam, who was standing behind her, his features like stone. “Aye,” he said slowly. “I was wondering if you were the princess. Keep in mind that I have no stake in this situation. I am simply doing an investigation for the archbishop.”

Bria shrugged. “I do not think I am her, although I suppose I would truly not know,” she said.

“My father found me at a church in Wales. I was intended for a foundling home, but he brought me back to England instead. I suppose there was something endearing about me, but you will have to ask him. Is that not correct, Papa?”

Sitting at the far end, Carlton was absolutely stumped.

He had no idea who the young woman was because he’d not seen the de Wolfe carriage unloading and the women coming out of it.

Therefore, he had no idea where Liam had come up with an imposter for his daughter, but he wasn’t going to argue, nor was he going to waste the opportunity.

When Liam had gone to retrieve the woman he implied was his bride, there was genuine fear in Carlton’s heart that he would, in fact, bring Cambria.

Instead, he’d brought a miracle.

Carlton cleared his throat softly.

“You were the loveliest child I’d ever seen,” he said, and that wasn’t a lie.

Cambria had been the loveliest child he’d ever seen.

“You were simply a foundling and nothing more. Given that your mother and I had recently lost our son, I thought you might help ease your mother’s grief.

And there is nothing more to the story than that. ”

Bria returned her attention to Tyrus. “You see?” she said. “It is that simple. But I could pretend to be the missing princess if that helps your cause. Is there money or jewels involved? Was she rich?”

The conversation had taken an unexpectedly mercenary turn, and Tyrus shook his head. “I do not know, my lady,” he said. “My concern is more with the wishes and intentions of the king as it relates to the situation.”

“What situation?”

“The missing princess, of course.”

Bria cocked her head curiously. “You mean there really is one?” she said. “This is not simply a wild tale?”

“Have you not heard of Gwenllian of Wales?”

Bria nodded. “In my lessons, I have,” she said. “I was educated by the priests from St. Andrews. That parish is not far from here. Because Gwenllian is part of local lore, I know about her. She is at Sempringham and everyone knows that. Is that not correct, Papa?”

Carlton nodded. “She was taken there, aye.”

Tyrus’ focus shifted to Carlton. “And you know this for certain, my lord?”

Carlton nodded. “As certain as I can be, though I did not take her myself,” he said. “The Earl of Warenton sent his sons to deliver her. That is all I know.”

Tyrus listened carefully before switching his focus to Scott. “You are one of William de Wolfe’s sons,” he said. “Did you deliver the princess, my lord?”

It was clear that Scott had no patience for the interrogation. He was leaning forward on his elbows, listening to the conversation, but when attention shifted to him, he was clearly displeased.

“As I told you earlier,” he said, “this is not an interrogation. I will politely answer your questions and that will be the end of it.”

Tyrus nodded his head. “If you would not mind, my lord,” he said. “I would like to hear it from you.”

Scott cocked an eyebrow at the man, perhaps to emphasize he was not to question him further once he answered.

“My brothers delivered the infant we brought from Wales,” he said.

“I was part of the escort that brought her here. While de Royans and the majority of the escort stopped at Folkingham, my brothers continued on to Sempringham and delivered the infant Gwenllian, as ordered. Now, you said that the woman you interviewed was not the princess based on physical characteristics you were told about. Did it ever occur to you that Sempringham was responsible for that?”

Tyrus’ brow furrowed. “How do you mean, my lord?”

“I mean that they could have replaced the princess,” Scott said. “It makes much more sense than the crime you are trying to accuse honorable men of.”

“I still do not understand.”

“Think on it this way,” Scott said. “If the princess was delivered, yet became ill and died at some point, Sempringham could have replaced her with a child of their own to continue the illusion that she was still alive, still under their protection. Edward was giving them money for her care, and I’m sure it is a goodly amount, so not wanting to lose that money, and not wanting to be blamed for the death of the princess, they found a child to replace her.

That makes the most sense to me. And your mystery is solved. ”

A new pebble of controversy was thrown into a pond that was already rippling with facts and speculation.

The waters were being muddied by Scott’s statement.

Tyrus had come to Folkingham with a firm direction, but now he didn’t know at all.

He’d met the woman de Royans had allegedly raised and now Warenton was suggesting it wasn’t a mystery at all, but a cover-up perpetrated by Sempringham itself.

Certainly, he was facing more than just a simple case.

This one was getting out of hand.

Quite honestly, he wasn’t sure there was anything more he could do here.

“I suppose anything is possible,” he said after a moment.

“In any case, please understand it was not my intention to come here and insult legendary men or their sons. I am simply a knight carrying out my orders. I am trying to get to the bottom of things. I will return to Canterbury with my findings and he will decide how to proceed.”

“The only way to proceed is to punish Sempringham if the woman said to be the princess is, in fact, an imposter,” Scott said. He gestured to Bria. “Just because de Royans brought a child back from Wales and gave her a home, that does not mean he stole a Welsh princess.”

Bria smiled at the men at the end of the table. “But what if I were a princess in disguise?” she said excitedly. “How romantic! But I should want her money and her jewels. She must be very rich, don’t you think? Aren’t all princesses?”

Scott held up a hand to her. “Not this princess,” he said. “And not this family. Be glad you are a de Royans daughter, my lady. You have had a much better life than a Welsh princess kept as a hostage.”

“And you will have a much better life as Lady Herringthorpe,” Liam said, taking her by the hand and pulling her up from the chair. “I believe you must continue packing, so I will leave you to it. Thank you for coming and putting le Mon’s mind at ease.”

Bria smiled prettily for Tyrus. “I hope you find your princess, my lord,” she said. “I am sorry it was not me.”

Tyrus simply nodded, feeling some disappointment at the course the conversation had taken. Bria skipped over to Carlton and kissed him on the cheek before skipping happily out of the hall. The silence she left in her wake was deafening as all eyes turned toward le Mon.

It was over.

For now.

“Well?” Liam said, leaning forward and bracing himself on the table with his big arms. “Satisfied?”

Tyrus looked at the man, clearly displeased.

“I suppose I shall have to be,” he said.

He stood up and collected his sword, turning from the table.

But he paused. “I am satisfied for now, but that does not mean forever. There is something amiss about this situation and I will discover what it is. Thank you for your time, my lords. It was an… interesting discussion.”

With that, he headed out of the hall, perhaps not moving very quickly because of his last comment. He was convinced that there was more to the situation, but for now, there was nothing he could do.

That was good enough for Liam.

All he wanted was the bastard out of Folkingham. Let him get back to London and figure out what to do, because that would give Liam and Cambria plenty of time to go north and find a hiding place until the situation blew over. That was all Liam wanted.

Time to get Cambria safe.

As le Mon departed through the hall entry, Liam went over to his father and Carlton and Scott.

“Bloody brilliant,” War muttered. “My God, I’ve raised a clever lad.”

Liam perched himself on the edge of the bench, right next to his father. There was a half-full wine cup in front of War and he picked it up, draining it.

“He wanted to see a Welsh princess,” he murmured. “I gave him one.”

“You told Caria everything?” Scott said softly.

Liam nodded. “I had to,” he said. “I needed her help.”

Scott understood. He emitted a pent-up sigh, signifying his relief. “She’ll keep it to herself forever,” he said. “You do not have to worry about her. But for now, I suggest we still go through with our plans. Marriage and then sending Liam and Bria north to Questing.”

Carlton nodded his head. The man looked so relieved that he was surely going to slither right to the ground.

“We did not have time to summon the priest before le Mon arrived, so let us do so now,” he said.

“There will be a wedding and a feast tonight and then Liam and Bria can be gone in the morning.”

“I would make sure le Mon is well clear of this place first,” Scott said. “And make sure he is not lingering somewhere, watching the roads.”

That made sense. “Then mayhap we’d better not leave immediately,” Liam said. “Mayhap we should stay until we know he is well back to London.”

That brought about an entirely new discussion, and they proceeded to finish off the pitcher of wine on the table and called for another because they’d earned it. As the wine flowed, so did the relief.

But that was until the shouting started.