Page 273 of Historical Hotties
And Caledonia had let her.
But no more.
Thor gave her courage.
“You know who I am,” Caledonia said, her gaze fixed on the woman as she let go of Thor. “I am the Countess of Tamworth and Stafford, and this is my keep. Where are my daughters?”
Mother Madonna’s eyes narrowed. “Lady Stafford,” she said imperiously. “You’ve decided to return, have you? There was no need. You are not required here. I thought that was made clear to you.”
It was a nasty thing to say in a long line of nasty things that Madam Madonna had said to her over the years. In times past, Caledonia would have simply taken it. She would have lowered her head and kept her mouth shut because Robert forbade her from talking back to the old nun. That had been established long ago.
But no longer.
“Whereare my daughters?” she repeated.
The old woman looked at her curiously. “They are of no concern to you,” she said. “Why have you returned? And who are these people you have brought with you?”
Before Caledonia realized it, she was marching up the steps, right up to the woman who was a little taller than she was and about twice her weight. All of those years of pain and anguish at being separated from her daughters came rushing upon her, and the very barrier that had caused her all of that agony was standing right in front of her. Without thinking, she shoved the woman back by the shoulders, so hard that Madam Madonna toppled sideways, ending up down on one knee.
Enraged, Caledonia loomed over her.
“Listen to me, you arrogant bitch,” she snarled. “Iam Lady Tamworth and Stafford, descendant of Ceowulf and the kings and queens of Mercia. Robert is dead and I have brought my new husband, the new Earl of Tamworth and Stafford, home. This ishiscastle now. Not yours, not Robert’s, but his. You will never again speak to me in that manner or I will have him cut your tongue out. Do you understand me?”
It was a violent, brutal threat. When Mother Madonna tried to get up to challenge her, Caledonia kicked the woman in the knee and sent her onto her arse. Mother Madonna tried to kick her, to fight back, but Thor came up the stairs and grabbed the old woman by the arm.
“Anyone who moves against Lady Tamworth will suffer my wrath,” he said, pulling the old woman down the stairs and to the dirt below. When she tripped into the dust, on her knees again, he simply stood there and watched her wallow without sympathy. “Look at me, madam. My name is Thor de Reyne and I am the Lord Protector of our king. I am not Robert de Tosni and I have no respect or regard for you. Am I making myself clear? Your days at Stafford are finished. My wife will be the mother to her daughters now. You are no longer required.”
Mother Madonna’s expression was full of shock and horror. “My-my lord,” she stammered, throwing a finger at Caledonia. “She attacked me. I am allowed to defend myself!”
Thor could see simply by the woman’s arrogant stance that everything Caledonia had said about her was true. All of it. There was no remorse, no hint of understanding, no clue that her reign of terror was over and she was no longer in control. Though he hadn’t been particularly brutish with her, as he simply wasn’t the type to be brutish with a woman—anywoman—it was difficult for him to keep from becoming angry with her. Once he was enraged, anything could happen.
Therefore, he kept his composure.
“You are not allowed to do anything, not anymore,” Thor said evenly. Then he looked to his sister, who was watching the scene with a good deal of surprise. “Nica, go back to the carriage and find the sergeant. You know Alastair, don’t you?”
Nicola nodded hesitantly. “Aye, Thor.”
“Find him and tell him to send me four soldiers. Hurry now.”
Nicola was gone, scurrying back the way they had come. Thor then turned to Madam Madonna, still sitting in the dirt, and reached down to pull the woman to her feet. As this was going on, Caledonia turned for the keep and bolted inside, off in search of children she’d not seen in a very long time. Children she hadn’t been allowed to see alone. Not ever. Her visits had been supervised by the old woman in dirty robes who was now standing in front of Thor, her head down in submission. But now, that barrier was removed.
Once and for all.
She had to find her daughters.
*
“What is thatchild doing?”
The question came from Darius. He’d just come from securing the de Lucera knights in the vault and now he was sweeping the upper bailey, per Thor’s command, so he could send every Stafford soldier down to the lower bailey where they were being gathered. He had two royal soldiers with him, both of them older, seasoned men he’d served with for a few years, so he trusted them. He knew them.
His question was directed at them.
But they didn’t have an answer. They were in the kitchen yard, which was quite large and cluttered, and directly ahead of them were three little girls. One was sitting at the edge of what looked like a fishpond, her feet in the water, while the smaller one seemed to be eating dirt. But the third one, who was probably eight or nine years of age, was standing in front of a corral of goats and speaking loudly to them.
Words Darius and the soldiers recognized.
“I… I think she is preaching, my lord,” one of the soldiers said. “She is reciting something from the Bible. I’ve heard it before.”
