The Forgotten Page 5

  “I should have seen it sooner. That’s who you remind me of. You look like your father and the old earl for that matter. He must have been your great-nephew, and if you’re father ever tried to deny you in his life, he wouldn’t have been able to had he ever seen you once you’d grown into a man. You are the spitting image of the Earls of Wythley. You seem to have more Whittier in you than Wylde. Once Lord Ulwyn lays eyes on you, he’ll see the resemblance as the portrait gallery in Wythley Castle remains untouched to this day.”

  *****

  Lucan’s dark brown eyes darkened to a dangerous degree.

  “My dear father did see me as a grown man. He cared not for me until it looked as if I was going to amount to something. He always pinned all of his hopes and dreams on his legitimate line as his legitimate son had a mother who was a member of a most Noble House—it’s a little ironic that that line died out.

  My mother was never good enough for the wretched bastard. As much as I hate the memory of my father, Lord Ulwyn makes him look like a saint. That infernal man shouldn’t be in control of Wythley Castle. Be that as it may, my relationship with my biological father was a complicated one. My grandfather was more like my father than he ever was. That’s probably why I called him papa.

  I saw the earl on a few occasions when I was growing up, back before I knew he was my father, and all of those times he never engaged me individually. He did look at me as if he wanted to say something a few times but after he had his heir with his wife—he had his precious boy child, he never tried to get close to me again.

  After my papa passed from this world to the next, my mentor Sir Algernon came into my life. I no longer needed the earl after that, nor did I want him in my life. We saw each other at Court a few times and when he tried to approach me, I brushed him off. I no longer wanted anything to do with the man who deemed my mother unworthy of him, even though he wanted to be associated with me to share in the glory and honour I had earned as Knight Mage of the Royal Order of Saint Alby. You see, I was suddenly a bastard to be proud of and acknowledge! I, a man born on the wrong side of the blanket, had the ear of the King, and I’m quite certain that’s the only reason he wanted to get to know me—or even admit to others that he knew me.”

  The words spilled liberally out of his mouth. She had no idea why he confided so much so easily to her, but it was as if he was a book and she’d just opened him up.

  Darkness permeated him, and yet somehow, he hadn’t been consumed by it. He was an instrument of light—that much she could feel. His magic was strong and had only been used for good.

  “Many will ignore their kin until that kin does something that earns attention from a higher rank. Some people are all about money and how high up you sit on the pyramid of life. It is sad but it is true.”

  Lucan’s eyes swirled with dark emotions.

  “My father’s line died out. I guess he reaped what he sowed, in a way. He could never acknowledge me and now I’m his only hope—I’m his only heir—ah, the irony,” he chuckled bitterly. “Odds are, he never believed I would be the only one to carry on his line. I was the bastard born to a woman who was never good enough—even if he loved her. I believe he might have, he couldn’t swallow his own pride and marry her. He had to keep up appearances, that stupid son of a bitch.” Bitterness laced his voice like poison.

  Her heart went out to him. He’d been wronged in many ways and she shared that in common with him. She had been treated most foul, some would say her tales of woe superseded his, despite that, she still had enough humanity inside of her to feel for the emotional baggage he carried.

  Inhaling deeply, she prayed that when she spoke, her voice wouldn’t waver with emotion. “And do you want to be the Earl of Wythley along with being the Duke of Cambria? You’ll have a long list of titles to hand down to your heirs, should you have any.”

  He gave her a scathing look. “I don’t care one flying fart about any of that—you seem to think a lot less of me than I probably think of you.” When he was riled, she noticed that his thick Cambrian accent crept forth, and she liked it. She liked the way it deepened his voice.

  “I was born here, I grew up with dirt on my face, a twinkle in my eyes, and a smile touching my lips. I was happy until the day I found out who my father was. I had never felt such soul destroying rage as I did that day, and I warrant I never will again. I couldn’t understand why any man would forsake my mother—or me.” Gruffness entered his voice as a hitch of emotion touched it.

  Her heart continued to reach out to him, he’d traveled his own rough path, just as she had traveled hers. The only difference between them was that her entire family had forsaken her, they’d forgotten her in as much time as it took to blink. When she needed help, they didn’t even try to assist her.

  Instead, they would have left her rotting in that stinking filth hole of a jail cell, had it not been for the kindness of a stranger who felt she’d been wronged, she still would have been there wasting away. She would always remember the guard who had aided her in her escape. He would be in her prayers until the end of her lives.

  The only other two people who had helped her was Lucan’s mother, and Lucan’s father and for that reason alone, she would never turn her back on him no matter how much he might irritate her.

  “You look knackered, luv. Why don’t you come on over here to this nice soft mattress and take a load off? I’m willing to share, I don’t bite—very often, anyway,” he said, winking at her mischievously.

  “You are a pig,” she said, tossing her head haughtily.

  He laughed at her remark. “No, pet, I’m a Wolf. I’m the big bad Wolf, and I’d love to eat you up.”

  Flames of desire scorched her. By the Gods, he was going to be her undoing.

  He stood up and came toward her, almost as if he’d sensed that she was in dire straits. Her mind was so muddled. She felt as if it was stuffed with cotton, and yet, she couldn’t flee.

  By the Gods, she knew she should run, she knew she should bolt as quickly as her legs could carry her and no matter how hard she tried to tell her feet to move, they wouldn’t budge an inch.

  Damn her feet.

  “Did Ava tell you about the curse?”

  Mutely, she nodded her head. She couldn’t open her mouth, her voice would crack under the emotional strain.

  “I was without a female for so long—I felt like I was dying with each passing hour, and as the hours turned into days, and the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, and the months into years, so many endless years—I never thought I’d enjoy the companionship of a woman ever again. You see when I was free, I was a lover of the ladies.

  No other man at Court could compete with my adventurous ways with the fairer sex. I loved so many of them, it would make your hair stand on end. I tried to sate my desires numerous times since. Unfortunately, no woman could possibly do the job. No woman at the Palace had the kind of substance I required since my long torment. No one could possibly understand the depths of despair I had wallowed in—but I feel that you are different. I think you just might be able to understand me.”

  She snorted. It was a nice little way to pull her into his seductive little web. She shook her head, and continued to back away from him toward the door leading out to freedom.

  Who did he think he was kidding? No man was deep enough to want to be understood. Men didn’t like talking about their feelings. All they wanted from women was sex, and he had to think her an imbecile to believe his sweet talk.

  “I have never met a man who wanted me for more than what the pleasures of this cursed body could offer him—no man can resist me. It might be hard for you to believe, but it’s caused me more grief than I could ever endure again. I vowed to never love a man again after the man I loved so deeply betrayed me most foully. I’ve turned my back on the days where I allowed men to have dominion over me. I’ve grown wise, Sir Lucan.

  I won’t allow you to ensnare me in your spoken enchantment. You speak a glorious game
, and if it were true, I would willingly fall into your arms and allow you to seduce me the way you want to be with a woman. Alas, men have been terribly cruel to me. They’ve ruined my life in more ways than you can possibly imagine, and I’ll need to know just how you measure up to my ideals, before I fall into bed with you.”

  “There will come a day when you’ll regret turning me away right now. You’ll wish you’d never pushed me away. And you’ll want to kick yourself for being so foolish.”

  “No, Sir Lucan,” she whispered, as she lifted the latch on the door, and opened it. “I won’t.” She shut the door firmly behind her, and looked down the hall to Elaine’s room.

  Leaning back against the door, she attempted to still her raging heart and catch her wayward breath. He wrought changes within her that she couldn’t possibly comprehend.

  Finally, after so many years of running from the powerful thrall of men, she actually felt something for one. Lucan ignited a fire within her she believed long dead. He made her want to love again—he made her want to go to him and seek safety in his embrace. She couldn’t—if she did, she would break the promise she’d made to herself so many years ago, and she’d set herself up for another spectacular fall.

  She needed to rest. She took a tentative step toward the only room available to her. The other rooms were inhabited and Elaine’s room was the only one she could seek sanctuary in.

  Sighing heavily, she went to Lucan’s mother’s room to collect her thoughts before she went down to the pub below and had to face the men that awaited her there. Shivering again, she heard the wild wind wailing and crashing against the Tavern.

  Being with Lucan had taken all of her worries away, so much so, that she’d forgotten about the fierce thunderstorm that was lashing through the village.

  Her worries had returned, her demons were back—it was time to continue the good fight.

  Chapter Five

  That hadn’t gone quite the way Lucan had wanted it to go. To be fair, he didn’t really know how he wanted their first meeting to go until he’d set eyes on her. He hadn’t known his bedchamber had become her bedchamber, spooking her out of her skin was just an added bonus.

  With the storm lashing against the building it felt almost like old times. He just couldn’t hear the merriment that usually echoed throughout the Tavern during this time of the day. Men and women alike would have crowded the downstairs serving area and tales of their day would have filled the rooms.

  He heard no laughter, and he heard no voices caught up in conversation.

  Reaching for his shirt, he put it on and quickly buttoned it up. Intrigued, he went to the bedchamber door and creaked it open. Nothing. No noise save for the howling wind and the rain pounding against the building.

  Unsettled, he walked to the staircase and went down the steps, stopping right before his foot hit the step that would let out a bone tingling creak. He stepped down on it, reveling in the loud noise. How many times had he avoided that step as a boy when he was sneaking out to see Leonora and didn’t want his mother to hear him leave?

  Ah, those were good times.

  He smiled and continued his descent, stopping to watch from the bottom landing of the staircase, the quiet scene that unfolded before him in the serving area of the Tavern.

  Hardly anyone was sitting in the serving area, and the bar itself was empty save for one greasy looking man, who obviously rarely acquainted himself with a bar of soap. The person tending bar wasn’t Neri. She must still be recovering from their first meeting.

  On closer look, the barmaid looked as if she was imbibing a bit too much herself, as she was rocking to and fro when she wasn’t even moving.

  He casually walked down into the serving area and went to the bar. The woman behind the taps finally noticed him, and her eyes bugged right out of her head. She gasped, looked like she wanted to say something and then closed her mouth.

  Had she recognized him?

  He had a fair bet that his mother hadn’t banished all memory of him from the Tavern. If he was right, his portrait would still hang in her bedchamber, and if this woman did more than just tend bar here, she would have seen his picture.

  “What will you have, sir,” she asked, her words slurring together, confirming what he already suspected.

  “I’ll have a pint of Cambrian Ale.”

  She nodded her head, reached for the tankard and filled it with the deep amber coloured brew. He sat down on a stool right up to the bar, and looked at his surly looking drinking companion. The man looked like he’d seen better days. His greasy pepper coloured hair looked like it hadn’t seen a bathing room in months, and he smelled like it as well.

  Lucan didn’t like the guarded atmosphere, everyone seemed on edge. He knew he was coming back to a challenge, but he hadn’t expected to find it infiltrating his family home.

  “Where is everyone? This place should be lively, filled with gaiety at this time of the day.”

  The barmaid gaped at him again, as if he’d grown another head.

  “Only them that can shift into wolves are allowed into this Establishment, sir.”

  “Is that a fact?” he drawled. “And who made that idiotic ruling?”

  The woman gasped, her face went a bright red, and her hands trembled so much she dropped his pint of ale. “Oh, dear, I’m bloody butterfingers. My sister Christi always calls me that,” she mumbled, looking down in consternation at the mess behind the bar.

  “Who the ruddy hell do you think you are for coming in here and asking what everyone in these parts already knows. It’s been this way for the past two decades, and it’s a good thing, too. None of us want to associate with the rabble that used to frequent this Tavern.”

  “Rabble? I guess you have your very own rabble-rouser who decided he knew what was best for the village,” he said.

  “How dare you speak like that about Lord Ulwyn!”

  “I was right,” Lucan deduced, “it was an idiot that made that ruling. What a horse’s ass.”

  The greasy man stood up on wobbly legs. “You should watch your tongue, boy, in case someone decides to remove it for you.”

  He smiled widely at the poor sod. “I would like to see any man try. I am quite attached to my tongue, yes, indeed,” he paused, to slowly lick his lips, “I don’t think I’d want to lose it any time soon. ‘Course if you call me boy like that again, you’ll be eating your own tongue.”

  “If you keep besmirching the honour of Lord Ulwyn, you ain’t only gonna lose your tongue but you’ll lose a whole lot more.”

  “Oh, my goodness, I am shaking in my boots. Do tell me more. Regale me with the torturously sadistic history of your Master. I think you’ve had enough to drink, mate. I also think you should leave now while you are still breathing.”

  “And why would I be afraid of you, man? You’re just a—“

  “You don’t know what I am,” he said, the deadly inflection in his voice was noticed by the barmaid. Her eyes widened further, and she continued looking furtively between them. She could sense that he was this close to lashing out at the fool.

  “I’m a wild man, with a wild heart, and I’ve been known to do terrible things when anyone rubs me the wrong way. And you, mate, you are definitely rubbing me the wrong way. Get out now, or so help me I will do something that will haunt your nightmares for years to come.”

  With those final words of his, the barmaid made a fast exit. She no doubt was running to Neri for her help. Neri couldn’t do anything to save this pitiful excuse for a human being. He was in Lucan’s crosshairs now, and he was going to make certain that this stupid slob rued the day he ever set foot in his family’s Tavern.

  “I don’t take orders from the likes of you. You are a stranger in this village. You have stepped into quicksand, my friend. You are going to be so sorry you ever spoke so harshly to me. You will be in Pauper’s Field before the night is through.”

  Lucan sat and regarded him silently for about two minutes. Rage flowed throughout him, like
water trickling through one of the fancy fountains found on the grounds of Alby Palace. He was no longer the hotheaded callow youth he’d been, when he’d left Glynneath Village.

  Now he knew how to bide his time when it was necessary. True, he’d allowed his passions to get the better of him when he dealt with Ramsey.

  This particular man was just filled with too much bravado and way too much hot air. He wasn’t actually threatening anyone but him with grievous harm, so in a way, he entertained Lucan more than riling him into a killing rage.

  “I am not your friend, mate. I am also no stranger to this village—but you and your lot are strangers to me. And I confess, I don’t like you, and I certainly won’t like your Lord Ulwyn. Any man who has to give himself a title to soothe his enlarged ego in a bid to compensate for his lack of balls, isn’t worth my time anyway. I want you to leave this Tavern of mine within the next five minutes and you’ll leave the way you entered.

  If you don’t heed my warning, you will regret not doing so. I’ve seen terrible things, things that would make that greasy hair of yours stand on end. Even though I’ve seen great atrocities, I’ve never seen a village run by a madman like Lord Ulwyn. Not in the kingdom of Shardizar, anyway.

  He is supposed to be the protector for those who work his lands. He’s supposed to make them feel safe. Instead, he’s the monster of their nightmares. I’m here to rectify that. I’m here to save these people from their tormentor. You run back to your master like a faithful little puppy and tell him that the prodigal son has returned. You tell him that Sir Lucan Wylde is back.”

  At his bold declaration, the man’s hands started to shake. His eyes filled with fear. It was good to know that even though Lucan had been gone for a long time, his legacy still remained to strike fear into the hearts of lesser men like the grease ball in front of him.

  It didn’t hurt that the King had widely publicized Grifon’s return and when Grifon’s name was mentioned, the men from the rest of the Order also made headlines. They’d earned quite the reputation in the last two months, as the fiercest Knight Mages that the Realm had ever known. Some said they could not be killed—others said they’d been blessed by the Gods and Goddesses themselves and possessed the powers of a Demi-God.