“Little brother.” Alastair smiled, glancing at Adrian’s rich cape, his eyes taking in the tattoos creeping down his forearms where his sleeves had crept up. “Given up your dry studies at last, I see.”
“Never,” Adrian said, returning the smile, and then stepped into his brother’s embrace.
“But Adrian,” Herne called, drawing the brothers’ attention, and Adrian saw his father’s gaze alternating between the red-haired woman and the blond boy still mounted. “Who have you brought home with you to Clifty Wood? Dare I hope . . . ?”
“Da, Alastair, this is my wife, Maighread Lindsey,” Adrian said. He turned to Christian. “And while I would be proud to claim him as my own, this fine young man is Christian Gerard, the son of my good friend, the earl of Chase.”
Alastair froze in the act of giving Maisie a courteous bow to look at Christian, as Herne reached up to grip the boy’s shoulder.
“Christian Gerard?” Adrian’s father said, amazement loud in his voice. He turned to look at Adrian as if to be certain he understood the gravity of what had been revealed.
Adrian nodded but didn’t have the chance to expound, for Christian chose to speak for himself.
“We’re going to find my father,” he said clearly. “To help him.”
The elder Hailsworth men exchanged glances before Alastair broke the tightening silence following Christian’s proclamation by raising his arm and hailing the last mounted rider still waiting at the gate, who urged his horse forward at once.
As the rider drew near, Adrian saw that it was a boy of about Christian’s age, with the same dark hair and wide, solid features as Alastair.
“Come down, boy,” Alastair said and then stood him facing Adrian, grasping him by the shoulders. “Walter, your Uncle Adrian has at last returned to us.”
Walter’s eyes widened as Adrian squatted down and held out his hand. “Good day, Walter.”
The boy stared at Adrian’s hand for a long moment and then launched himself past it, wrapping his arms around Adrian’s neck.
“Welcome home, Uncle,” Walter said. “Da and Grandda’s been so worried about you. And just wait until Mam hears—she’ll have the chapel bells rung. Now I’ll have someone to show my renderings to.” The boy pulled away and looked up at Maisie. “Is she my auntie? Are you my cousin?” he boldly addressed Christian.
Adrian chuckled and looked up at Alastair. “Renderings?”
“It seems studious pursuits must be in our blood, although I obviously lack that peculiar inheritance, thanks be to God.”
Herne laughed. “Aye, young Walter has designed several pieces for the farm, Adrian, including yonder gate.”
“You can pass through it with your horse at a gallop from the inside,” the boy offered enthusiastically. “But it swings to of its own accord and latches shut behind you.”
Adrian felt his eyebrows raise. “Indeed, I will be very happy to look at your designs, Nephew.”
The boy beamed up at his father, who smiled down and said, “All right then, Walter. Why don’t you take young Christian here to the kitchens? The two of you may ask Cook for a bite and then you can show him the barns, eh?”
“But we were going to see the king again,” Walter protested with a frown. “Now that Uncle Adrian’s returned, shouldn’t he go with us and speak for himself?”
Adrian looked up at his own father as he gained his feet.
“Perhaps,” Alastair said vaguely. “Right now, do as I ask of you, Walt.”
“All right, Da. Come on, Christian,” Walter said, letting his father boost him up to his horse. He took the reins and turned the small mare back toward the gate. “Cook makes the best pasties. If we’re polite, she might give us some milk to drink with them.”
Christian looked at Adrian as if for permission, and Adrian could see the question in his eyes as clearly as if he’d spoken it aloud.
Am I safe here?
“Go on,” Adrian said softly. “We’ll be along for you later.”
Christian urged his horse from the group to walk alongside Walter’s and the adults watched the boys retreat in silence. When they were through the gate and heading past the manor house, Adrian turned back to his father and brother.
“Going to see the king again?” he prompted. “And what need have you of a gate and guards on the road to Clifty Wood?”
“Much has changed in your absence, Adrian,” Herne Hailsworth said. “Your brother and I, we have never stopped fighting to restore your good name. It has garnered us some enemies for certain, and made it necessary to choose carefully who is admitted onto the estate.”
