Page 57 of A Knight for Gwenllian

Next to him, Christopher was staring at the flames dancing in the hearth, lost in his own thoughts.

“Hugh is an efficient administrator, I believe,” he said slowly.

“Yes. For all his faults, he is a fair and competent ruler,” Alexander forced himself to say. Hotwell was managed as well as could be. “That’s not what I’m worried about. When he takes over Audley Castle, he will take good care of it and its tenants.”

What worried him was finding himself without money or a place to live. Without a purpose. Without anyone. Had he made a mistake in refusing to marry and build a family? At least if he had a wife and children, he would not be leaving Audley alone. No, perhaps not, but that was selfish thinking, unworthy of him. Had he been married, his brother’s decision would have condemned not only him but his wife and children to an uncertain life. He sighed.

It seemed that he had been right in not marrying. Better to see one life ruined than many.

Christopher nodded to himself. “My friend, you once helped me in my hour of need. Now it is my turn to help you.”

In truth, Alexander felt he had not done much. Offering his oldest friend shelter while he recovered from the shock of finding out he had lost his own fortune and title to the benefit of an older half-brother no one had known about—and who had therefore been the real Lord Ashton—had hardly been a sacrifice.

“Please. Having you at Audley while you recovered from the unexpected turn of events was nothing.”

“I know. And though I am grateful for your hospitality at that difficult time, I agree that it is only what friends would do for one another. So I’m not talking about that.”

“What are you talking about then?” Alexander was puzzled.

“You kept the night I spent in Siân’s arms a secret from everyone. And though she was married at the time, you didn’t try to stop me. You didn’t pass any judgment in the morning, or even mention anything to me.”

“That’s because I know her marriage to Lord Cantle was not an ordinary one, or even a real union. Besides, it was not my place to judge either of you.”

Siân’s husband, an older man, had only married her to protect her reputation and sworn never to consummate their union. So, in his opinion, she had not broken any vows by lying with the man she had fallen in love with before her wedding to Lord Cantle. Not, as he’d said, that it was his place to think anything.

“I know. Still. I know plenty of people would have condemned her—and me—for daring to lie in the same bed, and I am grateful that you are not one of them, because we never felt we were in the wrong.” Christopher was unusually earnest. “But know that we didn’t actually sleep together that night, even if we⁠—”

Alexander raised a hand. “You need not tell me what you did or did not do. And it was clear as day that you two were meant to be together. Only a fool would have condemned you for wanting to be with the love of your life.”

He was starting to understand what that might feel like. In some circumstances, certainties, people’s opinions and even so-called honor could go hang.

“In any case, how do you mean to help me?” he asked, keen to steer the conversation back to his predicament. “Are you offering me a place to live when Hugh takes over Audley?”

Would he accept if that were the case? He wasn’t sure. It wasn’t only a question of pride, even if, undeniably, it grated to have to rely on someone’s generosity after years spent managing his own estate successfully. But even more to the point, he wasn’t sure he wanted to live next to a blissfully happy couple, see them every day surrounded by their children, all the while knowing such a life would never be for him. To add to an already impossible situation, Siân resembled her sister so much that it would be torture to be next to her—and Gwenllian, of course, who would be just a short walk away, at Esgyrn Castle.

“No, I’m not offering that, as I don’t think you’d be happy with that solution,” Christopher answered.

“I would not,” he admitted.

“No. I think you’d rather stay at Audley, and I agree this is where you belong,” Christopher carried on, as if talking to himself. He had a habit of doing that when faced with a problem. It apparently helped him to clear his mind. “And so, we need to find a solution for you to stay there. The best way, if not the only way, is to offer Hugh a substitute he will be unable to refuse.”

That was exactly what Alexander had concluded. But why was his friend telling him what they both knew already? “Yes,” he said more impatiently than he had intended.

“As you know, I have never been attached to Throckmorton Castle. It is a gloomy place filled with unhappy memories.”

Indeed, Christopher’s childhood had been just as miserable as his own. That was one of the reasons the future Lord Ashton had taken him under his wing and invited him every time he visited Audley: to alleviate the solitude. When he had lost his title, it had been a blow. But he had only bemoaned the reversal of fortune because it prevented him from marrying the woman he loved—or so he thought. The loss of the castle had not hurt him in the least.

Still, Alexander wondered what that had to do with his own predicament. Unfortunately, he had known about his brothers all his life, though he had been shocked to see that Hugh could turn so vindictive.

He waited for Christopher to get to the point.

“The former Lady Ashton and her new husband, Stephen, who have administered the place for me since Thomas’s death, have decided to move to Gloucester and be nearer his family. They told me as much the other day. I happened to visit as they were about to send me a letter informing me of their decision.”

“This is a surprise.”

“Yes. And a very unpleasant one, because even if I cannot begrudge them the decision, now I have to find an adequate replacement for them. I would happily just wash my hands of the place, but as Lord Ashton, I am responsible for the people.”

“Surely you can find someone trustworthy?” Plenty of noblemen had more than one domain and relied on stewards or members of their family to administer them in their absence. Like Hugh had done, with him at Audley. Until he’d changed his mind, that was.