Honor in the Dust Read Free

said, “Come along, you two. They ought to have something to eat on the table by now. You can tell us about the wars in more detail, Claiborn, now that you know all that’s new here.”
    â€œEdmund, may I have a word with your brother?” Leah said quietly.
    Edmund stared, as if he had forgotten she was there. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Certainly, Mother. I shall see you both in the dining hall.” Then, straightening his doublet, he exited the room.
    Claiborn struggled to speak. At last he asked, “When will the marriage take place?”
    â€œThe date has not been set, but it will be soon.” Leah turned warm eyes on her son. She reached out to touch his arm, but he flinched. She had stood idly by! Watched this transgression unfold! “Claiborn, it is a business arrangement. Nothing more.”
    â€œBut she was mine. He knew I courted her.”
    â€œAnd then you left her. She has been of marriageable age for some time now. For all we knew, you could have already died onforeign soil. Like it or not, life continues for those of us left behind. Grace needed a husband; Edmund needed a wife. It was a natural choice.”
    Claiborn rose. “What of love? What of passion? Grace and I shared those things.”
    â€œYears ago, you shared those things. Now you must forget them. Your brother, Lord Winslow, has chosen.”
    â€œChosen
my
intended!” Claiborn thundered, rising.
    â€œYou did not make your intentions clear,” Leah said quietly, pain in every word.
    â€œI could not leave Grace with a promise to marry. It was a promise I could not be sure I could keep. Too many die on the battlefield …” He turned away to the window, running a hand through his hair, anguished at the thought of never holding Grace in his arms, never declaring his love, enduring the sight of
her
, with
him
. His brother. His betrayer.
    His mother came up behind him, and this time he allowed her touch on his arm. Slowly, quietly, she leaned her temple against his shoulder, simply standing beside him for a time in solidarity. “I’m sorry, Son. But you are too late. You cannot stop what is to come, only make your peace with it. It will be well in time. But you must stand aside.”
    Claiborn went through the motions of the returned soldier through the rest of the evening. He was not a particularly good actor, and many of the servants noticed how quiet he was. Edmund did not, however, continuing to fill the silence with endless chatter.
    After the meal was over, Claiborn said, “I think I’ll go to bed. My journey was long today.”
    â€œYes, you’d better,” Edmund said, mopping the gravy from a trencher with a chunk of bread. “Tomorrow we’ll look things over, find something for you to do while you are home. Will you return to the army?”
    â€œI’m not quite sure, Edmund.”
    â€œBad business being a soldier! Out in the weather, always the danger of some Spaniard or Frenchman taking your head off. We’ll find something for you around here. Time you got a profession. Maybe you’d make a lawyer or even go into the church.” He laughed then and said, “No, not the church. Too much mischief in you for that! Go along, then. Sleep well, and we’ll discuss it further on the morrow.”

    As Claiborn rode up to the property owned by John Barclay, he felt as if he were coming down with an illness. He had slept not at all but had paced the floor until his mother had sent a servant with a vessel of wine, which he downed quickly and soon afterward fell into a dream-laden sleep. As soon as the sun had come up, he had departed, only leaving word for Edmund that he had an errand to run.
    Now, as he dismounted in front of the large house where Barclay lived with his family, a smiling servant came out.
    â€œGreetings, sir. Shall I grain your horse?”
    â€œNo, just walk him until he cools.”
    He walked