Lord Of The Manor. Shari Anton

Gerard’s family. Have they not suffered enough at the hands of Northbryre?”

      The king leaned forward. “Who better to ensure that no war is waged against Wilmont than those of Wilmont? Frankly, Stephen, our next choice would be to give the pair to you! We will not, however, because you would likely abandon them.”

      The pair? Merciful heaven. The king meant to make both her and her son wards of Wilmont.

      “Majesty,” she said, “would you deliver us into the hands of a man whose hatred for Basil runs so very deep?”

      “You brought your petition before us, Lucinda, and will now trust us to do what is best for not only you and your son, but for the kingdom.”

      Henry then turned to Richard. “You and this boy are both the victims of Basil’s treachery. Through no fault of yours, you nearly lost your life. Through no fault of his, Philip is deprived of a great portion of his inheritance and is in need of guidance. He requires a protector, Richard. What say you?”

      Richard stood as impenetrable and cold-faced as a stone wall. Richard, the bastard of Wilmont. She could think of few men less suitable—except Gerard.

      “Sire,” Richard said, his tone even, “I would suggest that you do the child a disservice, not because I am of Wilmont, but because of my mixed heritage and bastard birth.”

      The king frowned. “Come now, Richard. Surely you do not imply that a man of bastard birth is less worthy. Look to my own offspring. Do you deem them inferior due to their birth?”

      “Of course not, Sire. Although I am sure that when the lady requested a protector, she had in mind a man of at least equal rank and birth as her son, if not higher.”

      The king stood, a sure sign that his patience was at an end. “The fate of this child rests with your decision, Richard of Wilmont. Either the boy and mother go with you, or they go to Gerard. I will have your answer in the morn.” He turned to Kester. “Dismiss the other petitioners until after nooning on the morrow.”

      With a sweep of his royal robe, King Henry left the hall.

      In complete shock, Lucinda voiced her thought aloud. “There must be another solution.”

      “Aye, there must,” Richard said, his fists clenched at his sides, disdain etched onto his face. “When you return to the abbey, you might pray that we find one before morn!”

       Chapter Five

      “I am sorry, Richard,” Stephen apologized again, as he had all during the long walk from the hall up to Wilmont’s chambers in the palace. As well he should apologize. If only Stephen had kept his peace, and not drawn the king’s attention to them…Now they were in a sorry mess.

      The long walk had shaved the sharpness from Richard’s anger, but it hadn’t yet cooled completely. He poured himself a goblet of wine and sank down in a chair.

      “Stop apologizing for getting us into this fix and think of how to get us out,” he told Stephen. “There must be some way to convince Henry of the folly he commits.”

      Richard glanced about the sitting room of Wilmont’s chambers, remembering the turmoil during the last time he’d occupied these palace rooms. So much had happened in the three years since. They had thought themselves done with Basil and his ilk. Now the widow and boy were throwing his life into upheaval once more—as if Basil were reaching back from the grave to do further mischief.

      Just as the king had forced Gerard into a strange betrothal with Ardith, now Henry wanted to toss Richard into an unholy relationship with Lucinda. The difference was Gerard had wanted Ardith; Richard did not want Lucinda.

      He no longer struggled with desire for the woman. It had vanished the moment Stephen had revealed her identity.

      “Mayhap we could find another noble to take the boy as his ward,” Stephen suggested. “Someone acceptable to both the king and Gerard.”

      “Pray tell, who?” Richard asked, thinking of the king’s strongest reason for giving Philip to one of Wilmont. “To which noble do we entrust the boy without fear of strife when the boy comes of age? Alliances change from day to day in this kingdom. Years hence, the protector might use the excuse of reclaiming Philip’s heritage to come after our lands!”

      Stephen sighed. “Mayhap we should send to Gerard for counsel.”

      Richard took a long swig of wine from his goblet. “There is not a horse in this kingdom with the speed and stamina necessary to travel from Westminster to Wilmont and back again before the morn. I fear, Stephen, we are on our own.”

      At the moment, he saw no other choice but to accept Philip’s wardship. Compelling Gerard to take the boy would be like putting a knife in his brother’s gullet and twisting it.

      Gerard would be furious if forced to submit to the king’s edict, to the point where his relationship with Henry might suffer permanent severance. Gerard wouldn’t be pleased if Richard submitted either, but it would be the more palatable arrangement, especially if Henry truly intended to include the mother in the bargain.

      Hellfire. What would he do with the pair? He’d once planned to take them home to Collinwood. Unfortunately, Collinwood had once belonged to Basil and the people vividly remembered their former lord’s heavy oppression. They wouldn’t look kindly on their new lord for bringing Basil’s widow and child among them.

      His tenants’ trust had been hard earned. Many were still wary, as if waiting for the day when he would become as harsh and cruel as Basil. Bringing Lucinda and Philip to Collinwood might jeopardize their budding loyalty.

      Mayhap he could take them to another of his holdings and just leave them there, visit occasionally to see how they fared. But then, could he fulfill his obligations to the boy from a distance?

      “Mayhap not all is as bad as it now seems,” Stephen said. “Depending upon how much in fees and rents the boy’s lands in Normandy bring you, this wardship could be a boon.”

      Richard almost laughed. “And how do you suggest I go about collecting the fees from Basil’s family without taking an army to Normandy?”

      Stephen shrugged a shoulder. “If Henry signs an order instructing this George to pay the rents to you, the man really has little choice. Henry is also the Duke of Normandy, George’s liege lord.”

      “His very absent, very faraway liege lord.”

      Stephen tossed his hands in the air. “Very well, Richard. I gave you the benefit of my counsel and you reject all of my ideas. ’Tis your turn to suggest an option.”

      Richard wished he could.

      “I suppose I should seek out Lucinda, see if she has any ideas. I am sure she is thinking hard on the matter, too. She likes this edict no more than you or I.”

      

      Lucinda tossed her good gown into the sack, drew the rope and tied the knot.

      “Are you ready, Philip?”

      “I do not want to leave,” he complained, again. “Brother Ambrose promised me a tour of the stables on the morn. Please, Mother, can we not stay until then?”

      She would like to indulge the boy, and if she could think of a way to sway the king from his edict, she would. She’d asked for a protector and Henry had granted one, but he’d ignored Philip’s best interests, or hers, in favor of his own.

      “Nay, we cannot stay. Now hurry.”

      “Do we go to my protector’s castle, with the horses?”

      “The noble whom the king would give you to is not suitable, so we must continue our search for a nice village in which to settle.”

      How