The Iron Knight (The De Russe Legacy Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page A

bright and beautiful, but her behavior was atrocious. But it was his own fault; Lucien had made her what she was. He’d catered to her and spoiled her until she was positively unmanageable. There was no one else to blame. Guilt and remorse beat into him on a daily basis because of it.
    He couldn’t help the shame… Laurabel’s death, Susanna’s injury. He was the man of the family, wasn’t he? Hadn’t it been his job to protect his wife and daughter? He’d failed miserably. Surely there was something more he could have done.
    But there hadn’t been. Even Lucien knew that, deep down, but he still couldn’t shake the guilt. Now he found himself wondering if his new betrothed and his daughter would be able to co-exist. Would a female influence help Susanna’s behavior? Or would it make it worse? He could only imagine that his daughter wouldn’t react well to another woman at Spelthorne and, quite frankly, Lucien wouldn’t react well to it, either.
    He couldn’t even control the one he had.
    With thoughts revolving around his betrothed and his daughter, Lucien continued to make his way south, enjoying the day, trying to feel some joy for the life and blessings he had. He had many things, in truth, far better than most. A lucrative and powerful command and the respect of all of England. But a pain in his back reminded him of the fact that he wasn’t as strong as he liked to pretend he was; the injury from the battle at Bramham still hadn’t fully healed and rides such as this, and any extensive exertion, quickly exhausted him.
    That arrow to his back had nicked a major blood supply vessel and destroyed his right kidney, and his body, at his age, still hadn’t healed correctly, especially from the infection that followed. Poison had taken over his body and damaged his innards badly. He still had pains and weakness because of it.
    But he ignored those symptoms. At least, he tried to. He couldn’t submit to anything that made him feel or appear anything other than completely healthy and in control. The truth, however, was that the strong, healthy man known for his iron constitution before Bramham was quite different following the injury in battle. It was simply the way of things, but Lucien hated the weakness. He hated that he wasn’t the same any longer. Still, he did his best to mask that fragility. Only those very close to him knew of it, or could see it, but to everyone else, he was still the same.
    Inside, however, so much of him was dying, beaten, or already dead.
    So much of him was already gone.
    Lost in thoughts of his injury and his destiny, Lucien slowly eased Storm back, slowing the animal’s pace. They were far enough south of Spelthorne now and away from the major road junctions that he was certain to miss the arrival of his betrothed and her father. That had been his goal. Now, he was free to ride about and enjoy the scenery, reconciling himself to what was to come. He was too old to appreciate change these days. That was his primary problem; he didn’t want to change. He didn’t want to assume more burdens than he already had.
    The town of Tisbury appeared off to the southeast, a village he was quite fond of and where he was the administrative justice. It was part of his barony. Tisbury was a bustling place and there was prosperity there, something Lucien was proud of. He’d worked hard to eliminate any undesirable element, crime and outlaws, leaving the town for the good folks. The villeins were mostly farmers and tradesmen, although there were a few merchants who imported goods from Ireland as well as the continent. There was a good deal of trade coming in from the ports of Southampton, which was only a day’s ride to the southeast.
    The breeze was picking up a little now, stirring the trees overhead, and he caught sight of a fallow deer and fawn off in the shrubbery. He reined Storm to a halt, taking a deep breath, inhaling the placid moment. So much of his world was wrought with warfare or