Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 111362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Her eyes couldn’t take in enough as Ruddock directed the horse to take the road to the left. Cottages, nicely kept, sat to either side, until the road widened and they came upon a busy market area. They skirted it, going to the right, and continued to meander toward the keep. The village was massive and Sorrell didn’t know how she would ever find her way around.
One thing she noticed that disturbed her was the way the villagers stared at her husband, some crossing themselves, others turning away as if they dared not lay eyes on him, while others glared with their mouths open in shock. Not one offered him a smile or greeting. And his glance never fell on one of them, keeping his eyes on the keep in the distance.
Servants waited at the bottom and top of the keep steps to assist them. They bowed their heads respectfully when Ruddock dismounted.
“You’ll stay close by my side,” he whispered up to her as his hands settled on her narrow waist and lifted her with ease off his horse to settle her on the ground beside him.
She nodded and coiled her arm around his, and he smiled.
The women servants didn’t look at Ruddock, theirs eyes were on Sorrell, and she couldn’t believe the shock she saw in them. Did they think her not right for him?
They entered a small area, servants standing in front of benches to either side of a closed door. They took their cloaks and one servant opened the door and stepped aside. Not one of them smiled or offered a welcome home.
His father had done a good job of poisoning them against his own son, and Sorrell intended to change that.
They stepped into the Great Hall, and Sorrell stared in awe. It was massive. Wooden beams crisscrossed overhead, various colorful banners hanging down from them. Numerous trestle tables sat in perfect lines along either side of the room, windows filled one wall, and a huge fireplace occupied the other. A defined path ran between the tables to the dais where a long table was draped in a green and white cloth. Beautiful tapestries hung from the wall behind it and in a chair, fit for a king, sat a man.
Sorrell hugged her husband’s arm, letting him know once again that he was not alone. She was there with him.
Erland hurried around them and to the dais to stand behind Lord Northwick, making it clear who he served.
He was loyal to the old lord and Sorrell would remember that. She wondered why the man wasn’t in bed if he was dying. As they got closer, she saw that he looked as if he should be.
Lord Finn Northwick was big like Ruddock, though half the weight. His face was gaunt and his long white hair scraggly and looked in need of washing. His bold blue eyes were where you could see the strength left in the man and his eyes also revealed the part of him his son had inherited.
“You bring a whore into my house?” his father said, his fist pounding the table.
Sorrell felt her husband’s hand tighten in a fist at his side, and she hurried to step forward and let loose her tongue. “I am no whore. I am his wife, and you will keep a civil tongue in front of me.”
God, but he loved his wife, Ruddock thought.
“How dare you speak to me so—”
She didn’t let him finish. “I defend my name to any who dares to besmirch it.”
Ruddock stepped next to his wife, his hand still clenched in a fist and spoke like a man who would be obeyed or else. “You’ll not speak to my wife that way.”
His father glared at him and looked about to rise, his hands braced on the table and his body lifting slightly, but he quickly settled in his seat.
Sorrell saw that it wasn’t that he had thought better of it that he had remained seated. It was that he didn’t have the strength. She should feel sorry for him, but she didn’t.
“You summoned me home, Father. Have your say,” Ruddock said.
His father was blunt. “I will not die without an heir.”
“But you don’t believe me your son,” Ruddock challenged.
“I’m not sure about that and in case I could be wrong, I want the rightful heir to inherit and carry on the proud and distinguished Northwick name.”
“Do you claim me as your son?” Ruddock asked.
“What choice have I?” his father said bitterly. “Besides, you have the strength and courage of a Northwick… you survived.”
In spite of you, Sorrell thought, biting her tongue to keep the words from spewing out. This was between father and son, and she would not interfere… not yet.
“We will talk,” his father said.
His words struck a pain in Ruddock’s chest. Those words had once brought joy to him. His father would say that very thing throughout the years as Ruddock grew from a lad to a man and they would sit in his solar and discuss everything and anything. He had learned much from him. They had been cherished memories for him and it pained him to think that this talk would not be like the others.