Honor in the Dust Read Free Page B

your brother.”
    â€œI know Edmund is stubborn, but there must have been
some
way, Grace.”
    â€œNo, both your brother and my father see a woman as something to be traded. I don’t think my father ever once thought of what I wanted, of what you and I once shared, of what would make me happy. Nor Edmund. He’s never courted me. It is purely an arrangement that suits well—on the surface.”
    Suddenly Claiborn asked, “Do you think you might come to love him, Grace?”
    Tears came into Grace’s eyes. “No,” she whispered. “Of course not! I love you, Claiborn. You must know that.”
    Then suddenly a great determination came to Claiborn. He could not see the end of what he planned to do, but he could see the beginning—which would undoubtedly bring a period of strife. And yet any great battle worth fighting began in the same way. “We’ll have to go to them both, your father and my brother,” he said. “We’ll explain that we love each other, and we will have to make them understand.”
    Grace shook her head. “It won’t do any good, Claiborn. Neither of them will listen. Their minds are made up.”
    â€œThey’ll have to listen!” Claiborn’s voice was fierce. “Come. We’ll talk to your father right now. And then I’ll go try to reason with Edmund. My mother will come to my aid, I am certain.”
    â€œI fear it will do no good—”
    â€œBut we must try.”
    She accepted his other hand and met his gaze again. “Yes,” she said with a nod, “we must try.”
    â€œGrace Barclay, if we manage this feat, would you honor me by becoming my bride?”
    â€œIndeed,” she said, smiling, with fear and hope in her beautiful eyes.
    â€œCome, then,” he said, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. “Let us see to it then.”
    The two of them went inside and found Grace’s father eating an apple. Claiborn knew there was no simple manner to enter the discussion at hand, so he said, “Mr. Barclay, forgive me for going against you and your arrangement with my brother, but I must tell you that Grace and I love each other. We want your permission to marry.”
    John Barclay stared at the two, then hastily swallowed a mouthful of grapes. The juice ran down his chin, and his face was scarlet. “What are you talking about, man? I’ve told you, she’s to marry your brother!”
    â€œFather, I never cared for Edmund,” Grace said at once. She held her head up high and added, “I’ve loved Claiborn for a long time.”
    â€œHave you lost your senses, girl? Sir Edmund is the lord of Stoneybrook. He has the money and the title. What does this man have? A sword and the clothes he has on his back!”
    â€œBut Father—”
    â€œNot another word, Grace! You’re marrying Edmund Winslow, and I’ll hear no more about it!” Barclay turned to Claiborn, his face contorted with rage. “And you! What sort of brother are you? Coming between your brother and the woman he’s sought for his wife! You’re a sorry excuse for a man! Get out of here and never come back, you understand me?” He turned to Grace and shouted, “As for you, girl, go to your room! I’ll have more words for you later!”

    As Claiborn rode through the environs of Barclay Manor, he felt as if he had been in a major battle. He loitered on the way home, trying to put together a speech that might move Edmund after so utterly failing with John Barclay. When he reached the castle, he saw his brother out in the field with one of the hired hands. He was pointing out some fences, no doubt, that needed to be built, and he turned as Claiborn rode up and dismounted.
    â€œWell, you ran off early this morning. What was so pressing that you could not even stop to break your fast?”
    â€œI must have a word with you, Edmund.”
    His brother