“Then we need be wary, sir knight,” she said. “I have felt there is great cause to be frightened here, but I knew not to what high degree. Someone, perhaps in assistance to Lord Kerr, means to destroy this house again.”
“I have been given full title and equality with Lord Kerr. If that is his intention, he will not succeed. The troop that protects this land now is gathered from the highest ranks of royal armies and the scarce mongrels of back-roads justice. They work together as Troy and I worked. Kerr has no idea of the nature of the men-at-arms that patrol these lands and watch his every move. I have even found a way to move a few trusted souls into service at Dearborn. The bastard will be crushed before he can build another wall around his treasured manor.”
“Trent,” she began haltingly. “Tell me true; do you mean to kill him?”
“Not that, Jocelyn. Julian Kerr rose to title from a merchant’s store on the docks. He ciphered his money well and bought a marriage that would give him prestige. I would not quarrel his ambition if he were also a decent man, but he is a traitor, thief, and murderer. And his son follows in a like pattern. I will see that Stephen Kerr inherits no more than a shop that barters for shipping. He will not be a baron of these lands.”
Chapter Twelve
The autumn winds changed from a tolerable cool to ruthless cold. Ice and sleet clung to the manor walls and fires burned day and night. There no longer existed a climate for active travel, and those who had to go abroad did so with considerable difficulty.
Trent Wescott kept his eye turned to Braeswood as much as was possible, but still felt a hearty obligation to be near the royal court. It was there that he could gamble, be seen, become better acquainted with men of influence, and satisfy Charles that he was making every effort to establish himself as a lord of some consequence. Many of the noble class kept to London through the harshest part of winter. And those who stayed near the king were the ones Trent had to know. In the atmosphere of a recovering nation, Trent knew he had the strongest possible ally in Charles, but he also knew he had only one.
Although Trent did not expect the trouble that plagued the country through summer to be as evident during the cold months, there was still a certain advantage to being out of the midst of it. It had become glaringly obvious with the death of Lord Trendell while in Stephen Kerr’s care that the primary effort was to see Trent accused and perhaps executed or banished. It was for that reason that Trent also established a house in London. He no longer traveled by coach or with an entourage and carts, but alone and using only his horse. To the Braeswood servants, he was always in London if someone should visit or inquire; to the London staff, he was never in the country but on some entertaining expedition with friends. No one knew his pattern of travel or where exactly he could be found.
The rote was similar for Monsieur Laurant. He maintained quarters in the city, fashionable in style by merchant standards, and retained a room in a tavern in Tristan Bend near Braeswood for his brief visits to the country. When he utilized this humble abode, which was less often than once a month, he would enter the place with a false beard, a walking stick, and a generous limp on his left side. He appeared easily fifty years old and roughed his voice for the exercise. It was there that Troy would meet Trent and a handful of men to discuss their situation.
After the death of Lord Trendell, Trent and Troy had managed to find two men able to gain service to Dearborn, more specifically to Stephen Kerr; it was the younger Kerr who had managed to oversee the guard, especially in his father’s long absence from the country. Bruce was the elder of the two and had served under Prince Rupert the last three years of the king’s exile. A young man of four-and-twenty, he had a brilliant aptitude for war plans and the execution of same. He professed an interest in the location of Dearborn, and it was not difficult for him to secure a post as a member of the local guard. Alternatively, Matthew was a youthful, though experienced, boy. He was thrust before Julian Kerr in a most manipulative way by a third party at Newgate, and the elder Kerr bought his indenture papers based on his youth, strength, and apparent intelligence. The indenture, all a concoction of Sir Troy, called for three years of labor to the baron for bad debts. As they had expected would happen, Stephen Kerr was taken with the youth’s exaggeration of his criminal experience and elevated him from farmhand to his band of riders. To further escalate the deception, Bruce and Matt staged several scrapes so that it was all around that they couldn’t get along. That way if one was ever left behind, the other was included.
But in better than two months they had seen very little. This came as no surprise to the baron of Braeswood. Trent fully expected the Kerrs to live in a housebound fashion through the more brutal months. “But what of Stephen Kerr’s confidence?” he asked Bruce. “Surely he admires your soldiering skills and has asked your advice on plans?”
“Not to this point,” Bruce replied. They met in Troy’s tavern room, five of them in the quiet of night and lit by a single candle, keeping their voices desperately low. William from Braeswood, who was thought to be only a stable hand, also had an intimate dealing with each of Trent’s guards. He could easily be overlooked by anyone as a man of inside knowledge or influence.
“Master Kerr holds a ragged and mostly pitiful troop,” Matthew added. “There are but five or six men in his control that will do his bidding, whatever it might be, both dutifully and skillfully. The rest is a patchwork of farmers, indentured servants, retired soldiers, and exhausted mercenaries. Kerr has a mind to a strong force of arms, but no experience whatever in developing one. It is my thinking that he envisions needing an army to cope with you, my lord.”
“But what do these men do?” Troy asked.
“They have far more freedom than any brigade I’ve known,” Bruce explained. “He bids them practice with their swords and steeds by the warmth of afternoon, and betimes he bids them ride with him to his entertainment—the young fool never rides alone. He is frightened of his own shadow and keeps no less than a half-dozen armed men around him whenever he’s out of the house. Then their time is their own. They chase the maids, roll dice, hawk, and drink. They’re surly and drunk most of the time, but mark me, they’re well paid and they make a grand show of hopping into line when Master Kerr comes along.”
Troy smiled slowly. “They shouldn’t be much trouble if we ever meet them.”
“Oh, they’ll be no trouble in a fair fight. They don’t seem to hearken to the idea of any battles. Most of them will rub off if it ever comes to any real danger. He uses them for what they’re best at: giving travelers arguments on the road, harassing the simple folk, and collecting on debts. They can well afford the hostile tempers they show; in their dealings they’re always greatly advantaged. I’ve never seen them at work when they’re equal in arms with any opponent. They’re most adept in sneaking up behind unsuspecting prey. Still, if there’s a thing that Kerr has given them, it’s his hatred of the Lord of Braeswood and the scurvy bastard’s claim to title and history of crime.”
“Is that so?” Trent asked, a smile growing on his lips.
“Aye, Kerr has made it most clear that their main purpose in gathering is to defend Dearborn against you and to use every effort to roust you from your unrightful holding. Yet he does not speak of battles. That is the only evidence we have that his actions against you are secretive and illegal. I think it safe to assume that Stephen Kerr manipulated the Lord and Lady Trendell’s deaths. As it stands, after their driver alerted those at Dearborn, he conveniently disappeared.”
“Do you think he was killed?” Trent asked.
“He wasn’t looked for,” Matthew responded.
Troy interrupted at that point. “Kerr would have had him killed. The sniveling swine doesn’t do any of his own dirty work, unless it’s in the form of the harassment of a woman. And if he’d had him killed, one of the guards would have done it. Do they talk?”
“Amongst themselves, to some degree,” Bruce offered. Matthew nodded to this. “We make a greater ef
fort to get near them than himself for that reason. So far Kerr has done nothing illegal that we can claim. His tastes are refined to ruling three small hamlets with a harsh and unforgiving hand, wenching, gambling, and drinking. He’s nervous and easily angered and seems to let the locals bear the brunt of most of this.”
“I trust we’ll have to wait until the ground thaws before we’ll hear of him riding roughshod on the country roads again,” Troy offered. “Meanwhile, Lord Kerr is worth keeping an eye on. He has been exhibiting some very strange behavior.”
“How so?” Trent asked.
“He’s making major investments in a shipping company in London and has traded some of his country investments—a warehouse and a few small merchants’ shops that are consigned to him—for properties in the city.”
“Julian Kerr has always been a shrewd businessman. I don’t see it as unusual that he’s increasing his own money.”
“It’s the first time he’s ever diminished one ounce of Dearborn for another venture. It is either his plan to give the place over to Stephen early, or to begin to sell the country manor in small portions so there will be nothing left.”
“Has he made any offers to you?” Trent asked.
“No,” Troy said. Then smiling broadly he added, “Well, one small offer. He offered to have my head if I touched his niece.”
Trent laughed heartily at that. “He sees her as one of his more sound investments. I can almost guarantee she will disappoint him. As willful as she is at her tender age, unless he gets her married most quickly, he won’t be able to handle her in another year.”
The men discussed courses of action between them and settled on a continuation of the original plan. William worked as a simple yeoman in the Braeswood stables by day and rode from time to time along the boundaries and roads with Wescott’s guard at night. Matthew and Bruce would continue to develop confidants in the manor and work at friendships among the guards through the cold months. Trent would travel between London and the country, spending a great deal of time visiting, courting his peers to his persuasion, and building a modest fortune. Tronnier was playing a duel role of watching Julian Kerr and accomplishing some modest robberies from Kerr’s coffers that would eventually comprise the whole duty Trent owed Lord Kerr for Braeswood’s title. When they parted, it was with the understanding that they would not meet again until after the new year. Everyone but Sir Troy needed to be on the night road home. Trent lingered for just a short time.
“When do you journey back to the city?” he asked Troy.
“Before the sun rises. You?”
“I plan to give myself a few days to see to the security of Braeswood. Then I’ll be leaving again.”
“Do you go to London alone?” Troy asked.
“Of course.”
“But the wench, your mistress—”
“Stays in the country where she is happily occupied in my absence.”
“Wouldn’t she be safer in London, with you?” Troy pressed.
“If that were safer, she would be there now,” Trent answered. Troy’s mouth curved in a sly smile, as if he’d wheedled the information he wanted. Trent frowned at the superior smile but let it go.
“Have your acquaintances accepted your reasons for not entertaining them in your family home?” Troy asked.
“I’ve had misgivings about that,” Trent said. “But in all, it seemed the best thing simply to tell the truth. Since the trouble with the Trendells, it would be foolhardy for anyone to travel in our state—especially if they carry any wealth. I can’t say whether I’ve helped or hindered our plans, but I’ve let it get around that our portion of the country is dangerous. They seem therefore to question my activities in London if such is the case.”
“Anyone would consider you better placed in the midst of the problem—but then, you are, aren’t you, my lord?”
“In a manner of speaking. If Julian Kerr is the problem. I have a feeling he is not.”
“Rest assured, he was the original problem. From what Adrienne tells me—”
“Adrienne?” Trent questioned curiously.
“Ahem,” Troy attempted with a clearing of his throat. “She is a wealth of information.”
“She is a little girl.”
“No, my lord. She simply has not many years.”
“What wealth of information has she shared, and what methods did you use to retrieve it?”
“Kerr is in the worst state of nerves she has ever witnessed, due largely we must assume to your return. But he also babbles insistently that there is grave misunderstanding surrounding the capture of the Wescott men and declares it impossible to lay those events to rest. Oddly, he draws himself the victim in that scandal and, according to Adrienne, has threatened to speak to the king about the ordeal.” Troy conveniently omitted any answer to the second question.
“The king would not be impressed with his excuses,” Trent vowed with a scowl on his face.
“Quite so, I agree. But his excessive agitation over this now makes me wonder if he won’t abandon Dearborn out of simple fear. It could be we would profit by frightening the old man to death. A few raids, some minor injuries and theft …”
“No,” he shot back, the sound much like the crack of a pistol.
“It could be the simpler way.”
“I don’t want anything that isn’t mine. I don’t want Dearborn or its townships. I want what I have a right to: Braeswood and Lord Kerr’s comeuppance. His punishment for murder and treason. Dearborn can be auctioned, for all I care.”
“And so it shall be, I perceive,” Troy replied, shaking his head. “You baffle me, my lord. In some ways, you show a ruthless ambition, and in other ways, a foolhardy ignorance of treasures laying in your very lap. You could easily have it all, and you wouldn’t have to work very hard to get it.”
“If this can’t be done my way, you’re free to forget your offer of commitment,” Trent countered easily. “If I am a fool, I will at least be my own fool and not the simple prisoner of some fancy ideas of easy money.”
Troy looked at his friend closely, noting his features were stony and grim and his determination was solid. They had known each other for a long time, but upon Trent’s return to England, his values had changed remarkably from those of a soldier of fortune and adventurer. Trent was once a man who would risk all for a throw of the dice and hadn’t been overly concerned with scruples. If there was money in it, he did it. If there was danger, he braved it. And if there was any challenge, he assumed it immediately.
“Something about you has changed,” Troy said with a smile. “You’ve become a quite honorable gentleman farmer.”
“You’ve always known we were very different in that,” Trent reminded him. “While I had no home and no money, it was easy for me to live the way we did. But this was always my goal: to have these responsibilities to my land, my sovereign, and my family.”
“You can serve your king anywhere, have more land than you do now, and your family … is … You are alone, Trent.”
“I don’t see it that way. It is the land I was born to that I love. The king has need of good men who live in his country and are occupied by this government and property. And although they rest beneath the earth, my family is as much alive to me as if they lived and breathed. It is my intention to serve all of that well.”
In the back of Troy’s mind he had always known this about Trent, but he could plainly see that when this project was finished, they would be moving within different worlds again. Troy could not be tied to anything; Trent needed his ties to sustain him.
As if reading his mind, Trent broke the silence. “I don’t think you need have any fear that we’ll part ways permanently. There are many reasons for us to remain close friends. I may like my country home and obligations, but when I have need of the high road, you’ll be there. Likewise, when you have need of some stability, there is room for you in my house. It may not happen as often as it has, but it will occur. I have no doubt.”
&n
bsp; Troy looked down for a moment, giving Trent to wonder at his melancholy. The man had been alone for many years, and while he was loyal to the core, Trent had failed to realize how strongly Troy valued the friendship. Clearly, Troy considered Wescott his family in the absence of his own. They had influenced each other in tremendous ways.
Troy looked up and smiled suddenly. “Perhaps when I am an old man like you, I will settle down myself.”
“Perhaps. Whatever the future, friend, we’ve been different and yet alike for a goodly sum of years. I see no reason that should affect us more now than it has in the past.”
Jocelyn met the winter with a certain glow that put to rest any suspicions that as a fallen woman she suffered the wages of sin. She had everything she ever dreamed would be hers. Her residence at Braeswood lacked only one thing that would make life perfect, and that was Trent’s constant presence.
She needed no special consolation for this because she had his devotion. Since the time he had confided the circumstances of his family and business, he seemed to regard her as much a close friend and confidant as he did a mistress. Each time he left for a lengthy stay in London, he returned anxiously and showered her with much affection. In his absence, she found she was becoming as much a part of the manor staff as anyone, and even Treena, the most stubborn of the women with an eye for Trent, haltingly began to make her peace.
Glynnis grew more burdened with her child as Christmas approached and she kept herself almost solely to attendance in Jocelyn’s rooms. She had ceased working with any laundry or cooking and even had kitchen maids deliver William his dinner in the stable when he couldn’t come to the house. Her size had become so overwhelming, although the child wasn’t due before mid-February, that Enid insisted again and again that she had misjudged the conception.