The Duke of Garwood and His Bride

CHAPTER I BOWHAM CASTLE

Lord Reinhard Luke Avery Rosenbaum, Duke of Garwood, growled like a deranged wolf when he rode past the castle’s portcullis. His black destrier became agitated as it sensed its master’s foul mood. The night had been too exhausting and frustrating as their prowling turned futile. The distressed duke jumped off his destrier and threw the reins into the hands of the waiting groom. And without any word, he marched into the inner bailey and into the keep’s massive doors. Three footmen scrambled to meet their upset master.

One footman removed his lordship’s riding cloak, the other took his bloodied sword and the other gave him a goblet of wine that he downed so easily.

“Your Grace,” one footman approached the lord of the castle, “your warm tub awaits.” He informed him as they both headed up the stairs.

“Keep the water warm. I need to write to the King first posthaste.” He replied, his strides were long and hurried as they rounded a corner toward his study. He pushed the doors wide open and his valet instinctively caught the knobs before the entire door came banging against the jamb.

Sensing his master’s foul mood, he did not dare chirp a thing. He just kept a close watch and anticipated anything to aid him. It had always been thus when something was amiss in the estate. His lordship always ended in a horrid mood and everyone ended up walking on eggshells around him. He watched the Duke’s stormy façade, deeply immersed in the missive he was drafting. The furrow between his brows deepened, and his jaws set hard. The quill on his hand danced vigorously without faltering, eager to finish the task promptly. His composition must have been too long as he was writing now on another sheet. His expression remained unaltered as his intent was of great import. When his quill froze, his gaze lingered on his composition. Finally, feeling satisfied with his work, he folded the paper neatly and placed it inside an envelope. He dropped red melted wax on the envelope and marked it with his seal.

“Miller,” he called almost wearily. The valet sprang immediately and came closer to his lordship. “Have someone deliver this.” The duke handed him the missive.

“Yes, Your Grace!” he bowed and took the letter from his outstretched hand. “Are you well, my lord?” he also asked solicitously.

“Yes, Miller. Thank you. Just please have my bath ready and warm. I’d very much love to get rid of the stench of blood on me.”

“Your bath awaits up in your chamber, my lord. I will follow you upstairs after I summon the courier to deliver this letter.”

“Thank you, Miller.” He said languidly, as he leaned back on his cushioned chair and closed his eyes to clear his thoughts.

Catching a glimpse of his lordship leaning idly on his chair before exiting his study, made the valet pity the young lord. So much had been going around the entire estate that had weighed heavily on his shoulders. It had only been half a year since this young man had inherited the estate of his grand uncle.

The estate was so large and bountiful that another young and ambitious lord vowed to usurp it. The former duke had amassed a great wealth that could support a score of generations from his lineage. He was a great man of trade, a brilliant military strategist, and an accomplished soldier. But his life had been too desolate and lonely when his wife died at the hands of his enemies, taking with her their unborn child. Dying cold and lonely had been the price of his fortune and success. His demise had been brutal and tragic when he went on a one-man counterstrike against his wife’s assailants.

Now, the current duke bore the weight of the responsibilities and the consequences he had left behind. The poor young man had suffered so much in so short a time. Everyone remembered how dandy and green he looked when he first came by. He was a proud young man who held so much promise when he beheld the grandeur of Garwood Estates. He knew the extent of abundance his granduncle had bequeathed him. He could live indolently without fear of poverty. Practically, he did not need to do anything. Nevertheless, the young duke still endeavored to be even half the man his granduncle was.

Realizing that along with his title and inheritance, were the shady enemies lurking around, and had been eyeing the estate with greed, he tried everything he could to defend the entire estate and its people. He may not be able to match his granduncle’s military skills, but he was still a man of principle and conviction. He wanted to prove that his granduncle was right to name him his heir. This estate was his and there was no way he would give it up to anyone.

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Early in the morning, the Duke of Garwood rode his saddleless destrier. He had an immediate concern about the night’s scrimmage. He had to assess the damage done to one of the villages. He had to reassure himself that no further harm was done to the villagers and that they could start rehabilitating. He rode with amazing speed amidst the thick foliage and rolling green hills, as he intended to see to his people’s welfare. Garwood Estate had captivated him at first sight. He fell in love with it from the first ray of light that he beheld its grandeur and beauty. He felt at peace every time he rested his gaze upon the greenest expanse. He felt indebted to his grand-uncle for naming him his heir instead of the man who claimed to be his brother. The entire estate exuded grandeur and serenity, yet it had been beset with attacks and devastation. As enemies were able to infiltrate the territory for having been left without a lord for quite some time. He vowed to protect it and keep it the way his granduncle had for decades.

People swarmed around him upon reaching the farmers’ village. Men and women, young and old, all gathered around him and greeted him with warm smiles and jovial courtesy. Their happy faces brightened up the mood, pushing the nightmare of last night’s scrimmage into the background. These people were another reason for him to stay and fight. They were so simple, pure and gentle, friendly and welcoming to a fault.

“Good morning, Your Grace!” came their happy chant.

“Good morning everyone!” he chimed back as he dismounted his steed. One of the village people took the reins from him and led the horse to a nearby tree. “Thank you, Peter!” he called out to the young man who took care of his stallion and the young man just smiled and nodded at him. “Did anything else happen last night after we left?” Rayne turned and asked the people around him.

“Nothing amiss occurred, my lord,” one of them answered. “It seemed they had fled when we gained the upper hand.”

“That’s good then. How about the damage? How fast could we fix them?”

“Well, the grain house was far from getting fixed. Worst is, that it would take us next harvest to replace all the burnt grains. We would all be short of wheat, barley, and malt” Another man replied to the duke’s query.

Rayne sat pensively amidst the crowd. “It would take us three more months before we could harvest our grain crops.” He thought out loud.

“Three at least, my lord, if all goes well.” another pointed out.

“Yes. We should guard not just our lives but also our crops and livestock if we do not want to suffer shortages,” He noted. “But it was a big loss to have the grain-filled storage house burnt. It was already a hard blow for us.”

“We will just have to economize what was left in the other grain houses.” One more town folk voiced out.

“Yes, but that would not suffice for a three months provision,” Rayne added. “We should visit the neighboring towns and cities and see if we could purchase a few more sacks to last us until the next harvest.”

“I would take a few men with me, my lord, if you would allow.” a man stepped forward and Rayne recognized him as the village leader. “I would make that trip to find some resources outside Garwood."

“Very well, Thomas. I’d leave that in to your capable hands. But I’m afraid I could only lend you a few soldiers for escort. We are all short on hands.” Rayne said and regarded the man concernedly.

“I will take whatever is available, my lord. We’d just have to be extra careful.” Thomas nodded, understanding that every man is needed in the estate to counter any possible attack.

“That settled it then. Thank you for helping me out." Rayne murmured almost timidly. "Truth be told," he sighed, "I feel so ashamed of my inadequacy as your lord. No matter how hard I try, everything I do is not enough to keep things in order."

"Your Grace, there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. You have done your best. And we all have witnessed your endeavors. We trust you just as the former duke placed his faith in you." One of the village men uttered.

"Let's just keep on fighting for our land and our people, Your Grace. We will all see this through," Thomas encouraged, patting him on the shoulder.

"Thank you all. I may not have lasted this long without your support," He said, his voice cracked with emotion.