Free Lord of the Manor by Shari Anton Page A

confiscated all of Basil’s lands in England, then divided them between himself and Gerard. Of Gerard’s portion, he kept Northbryre and gave the rest to Stephen and me.”
    Her raised eyebrow revealed her surprise. Indeed, his brother’s generosity surprised many.
    Then she frowned. “If we were to go with you, would we be living on Basil’s former lands?”
    “Aye, at Collinwood.”
    She paled. The woman obviously knew of her husband’s defilement of Collinwood, his cruelty toward the tenants. Richard almost felt sorry for her. Almost. She’d done nothing to thwart Basil’s ruthlessness.
    Richard would forever remember the day he first set eyes on Collinwood. He’d known that the manor was in a sorry state, but he hadn’t been prepared for the haunted eyes of the people. Half-starved children. Men with no pride. Women without hope.
    “The royal betrothal ceremony takes place in two days,” he said. “Be prepared to travel on the third.”
    “You will accept Philip as your ward,” she stated.
    “You would rather go to Gerard?”
    “Nay, but—”
    “Henry gives us few options, Lucinda. The choice is between me and Gerard—unless we can contrive a miracle.”
    Lucinda was about to say something when Philip yawned hugely. The boy laid his head on her shoulder, his eyes drooping with fatigue.
    Richard ducked under the arch that led to the two bedchambers beyond the sitting room. He went into the master chamber and fetched a wolf pelt from thescarlet-draped bed. ’Twas really Gerard’s bed, but available for his use when at the palace.
    The bed, piled high with furs of wolf and bear, was the most comfortable he’d ever slept on. He’d even shared it a few times with a wench from the palace kitchens who’d taken a fancy to him—or to the down mattress. Not that it mattered which she truly preferred. She assuaged his needs and he asked nothing more.
    ’Twas far too easy to envision Lucinda snuggled down on the mattress, surrounded by fur. Her violet eyes shining with desire, her lips parted and wet and—
    Hellfire. His lust was damn inconvenient, not to mention unwarranted and unwanted. He must somehow reassure both mother and son they would come to no harm while in his care. Yet here he stood, picturing Lucinda on her back with her legs spread and arms open. Beckoning him to her.
    She would be horrified to know how his thoughts ran. Or would she? Of course she would!
    Just as he was horrified. The woman was the widow of the man who’d ordered Gerard’s murder, who’d run the people of Collinwood so far into despair and hunger that even after three years of his lordship they were wary.
    And he was of Wilmont, the family who’d brought Basil to his downfall, and death. Who’d made it necessary for Lucinda to flee Northbryre with little more than the garments on her back and a babe in her arms.
    Hatred would always exist between Wilmont and Northbryre—unless the boy could be swayed.
    No miracle would happen to release him from this duty, though he intended to ask Henry to amend theedict. He would accept the boy as his ward, but not the mother. Surely, Henry would see the sense of his request.
    Richard spun around and went back into the sitting room. He tossed the wolf pelt in a corner for Philip to use as a pallet to nap.
    The child was but six, an amendable age. And truly, a cute little tyke. Perhaps, with education, persistence and discipline, the boy could be saved despite his lineage.
    “Come forward, Philip.”
    Lucinda tightened her hold on her son.
    As he’d feared—the mother sought to interfere. Philip’s obedience to his lord was crucial to a proper wardship.
    “Come forward, Philip,” he repeated, more firmly.
    Philip slipped from Lucinda’s lap and came to stand before him. The child’s eyes reflected no fear. Richard put his hand on Philip’s shoulder.
    “You understand I am now your protector, and you my ward?”
    Philip nodded.
    “As your lord, I will expect obedience and