{"id":2335,"date":"2009-08-25T21:22:19","date_gmt":"2009-08-26T02:22:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=2335"},"modified":"2009-08-25T21:22:19","modified_gmt":"2009-08-26T02:22:19","slug":"honor-in-the-dust-by-gilbert-morris","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/?p=2335","title":{"rendered":"Honor in the Dust by Gilbert Morris"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a>\"\"<\/a>It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour<\/a><\/strong><\/span> <\/strong> book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old…or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Today’s Wild Card author is: <\/strong><\/div>\n
Gilbert Morris <\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/div>\n

and the book:<\/span> <\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Honor in the Dust<\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

Howard Books (August 25, 2009)<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n
\n
Product Details:<\/p>\n
List Price: $13.99<\/em><\/address>\n
Paperback: 320 pages<\/em><\/address>\n
Publisher: Howard Books (August 25, 2009)<\/em><\/address>\n
Language: English<\/em><\/address>\n
ISBN-10: 1416587462<\/em><\/address>\n
ISBN-13: 978-1416587460<\/em><\/address>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n

AND NOW…THE FIRST CHAPTER:<\/span> <\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

May 1497<\/p>\n

Sussex County, England-<\/p>\n

Claiborn Winslow leaned forward and patted his horse\u2019s sweaty neck. \u201cWell done, Ned.\u201d He had pushed the stallion harder than he liked, but after so many months away he was hungry for home. He straightened in the saddle and gazed in pleasure at Stoneybrook, the Winslows\u2019s ancestral castle. It had withstood seige and battle, and bore all the marks that time made upon structure\u2014\u2014as well as upon men. There was nothing particularly beautiful about Stoneybrook. There were many castles in England that had more pleasing aspects, designed more for looks than for utility. But Claiborn loved it more than any other.<\/p>\n

The spring had brought a rich emerald green growth to all the countryside, and verdant fields nuzzled up against the very walls of Stoneybrook. If they were any indication, the summer\u2019s harvest would be good, indeed. The castle itself rose out of a hillside, and was dominated by an impenetrable wall, on the other side of which a small village thrived. Even now, late in the day, people and carts and horses moved in and out of the central gate, and from the battlements he saw the banner of Winslow fluttering in the late afternoon breeze, as if beckoning to him.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy heaven it\u2019s good to be home!\u201d<\/p>\n

He laughed at himself adding, \u201cWell, I guess the next thing they\u2019ll put me in Bedlam with the other crazy ones talking to myself. I must be worse off than I thought.\u201d His mind cascaded back to the battles he had seen, rare but fierce, and the men he had encountered. Some dreaded battle, feared it, and could not force themselves forward. Others found joy in the clash of weapons and the shouts of victory when the battle was over. Claiborn was one of these, finding a natural rhythm to battle, a path from start to finish as if preordained for him. When the trumpets sounded, and the drums rolled, his heart burned with excitement. God help him, he loved it. Loved being a soldier. But this, returning to Stoneybrook, had its own charm.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, Ned.\u201d Kicking his horse\u2019s side Claiborn guided the animal toward the gate, and as he passed through, he ran across an old acquaintance, Ryland Tolliver, one of the blacksmiths who served Sir Edmund Winslow and the others of the family as well.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, bless my soul,\u201d Ryland boomed, \u201cif it\u2019s not the soldier home from the wars!\u201d He was a bulky man, his shoulders broad, and his hands like steel hooks from his years at the forge. He laughed as Claiborn slipped off his horse and came forward, and he shook his hand. \u201cGood to see you, man. You\u2019re just getting home. All in one piece, I see.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAll in one piece.\u201d The two man shook hands, and Claiborn had to squeeze hard to keep his hand from being crushed by the burly blacksmith. \u201cHow are things here? My mother and my brother?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe same as they were when you left. What did you expect? We\u2019d fall to pieces without you to keep us straight?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I\u2019m not as vain as that. I\u2019m sure the world would jog on pretty well without me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTell me about the wars, man.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot now. I need to go see my family, but I\u2019ll come back later. We\u2019ll have enough ale to float a ship. I\u2019ll tell you lies about how I won the battles. You can tell lies about how you\u2019ve won over the virtue of poor Sally McFarland.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSally McFarland? Why, she left here half a year ago.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought you were going to marry that girl.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe had other ideas. A blacksmith wasn\u2019t good enough for her.\u201d He looked at Ned and said, \u201cNot much of a horse.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s a stayer. That\u2019s what I like. He needs shoeing though. I\u2019ll leave him with you and feed him something good. He\u2019s had a hard journey.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat I\u2019ll do.\u201d He took the reins from Claiborn. \u201cWhat about you, Master? What brings you home at long last?\u201d<\/p>\n

Claiborn glanced back at him, and a smile touched his broad lips. \u201cWell, I\u2019m thinking about taking a wife.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA wife? You? Why, you were made to be a bachelor man! Half the women in this village stare at you when you walk down the street.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou boast on my behalf, but even if it was God\u2019s own truth, I\u2019ll not have just any woman.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAhh, I see. So have you got one picked out?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course! Grace Barclay had my heart when we courted and never let it go.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, yes, Grace Barclay.\u201d There was a slight hesitation in the blacksmith\u2019s speech, and he opened his lips to speak, but then something came over him, and he clamped them together for a moment.<\/p>\n

\u201cRyland, what is it? Grace is well?\u201d Claiborn said, his heart seizing at the look on the blacksmith\u2019s face.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe is well. Still pretty as ever.\u201d Ryland had ceased smiling, and he lifted the reins in his hand. \u201cI best go and take care of the horse. He must have a thirst.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAs do I. I\u2019ll return on the morrow. Give him a good feed too. He\u2019s earned it.\u201d<\/p>\n

. . . . . . . . . . . .<\/p>\n

The servants were busy putting the evening meal together, and as he passed into the great hall Claiborn spoke to many of them. He was smiling and remembering their names, and they responded to him well. He had always been a favorite with the servants, far more than his brother Edmund, the master of Stoneybrook, and enjoyed his special status. He paused beside one large woman who was pushing out of her clothing and said, \u201cMartha, your shape is more\u2026womanly than when I departed.\u201d<\/p>\n

The cook giggled and said, \u201cAway with you now, m\u2019lord. None of your soldier\u2019s ways around here.\u201d<\/p>\n

He grinned. \u201cYou are expecting a little one. It is nothing shameful, I assume.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShush! Mind that we\u2019re in public, Sir. Such conversation is unseemly!\u201d Her face softened and she leaned closer. \u201cI married George, you know. A summer past.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, good for George. With a good woman and a babe on the way; he must be content, indeed. What\u2019s for supper?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing special, but likely better than some of the meals you\u2019ve had.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re right about that. Soldier\u2019s fare is pretty rough stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n

Passing on, Claiborn felt a lightness in his spirit. There was something about coming home that did something inside a man. He thought of the many campfires he had huddled next to out in the fields, sometimes in drizzling rain and bitter cold weather\u2014 dreaming of the smells and the sounds of Stoneybrook, wishing he was back. And now, at last, he was.<\/p>\n

\u201cEdmund!\u201d He turned to see his brother, emerging from one of the inner passages.<\/p>\n

Claiborn hurried forward to meet him and said, \u201cIt\u2019s good to see you, brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you,\u201d Edmund said, holding him at arm\u2019s length again to get a good look. \u201cNo wounds, this round?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNothing that hasn\u2019t healed,\u201d Claiborn returned.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood, good. Mother will be so relieved.\u201d<\/p>\n

The two turned to walk together, down a passageway that would lead to their mother\u2019s apartments. Claiborn restrained his pace, accommodating his smaller older brother\u2019s shorter stride. \u201cAll is well here, brother? You are well?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNever better. There is much to tell you. But it can wait until we sup.\u201d<\/p>\n

A servant had just departed, after breathlessly telling Lady Leah Winslow that her son had returned. She wished she had a moment to run a brush through her gray hair, but she could already hear her sons, making their way down the corridor. She rose, straightening her skirts. How many nights had she prayed for Claiborn\u2019s return, feared for his very life? And here he was at last!<\/p>\n

The two paused at her door, and Leah\u2019s hand went to her chest as her eyes moved between her sons. Claiborn\u2019s rich auburn hair with just a trace of gold; Edmund\u2019s dull brown. Claiborn\u2019s broad forehead, sparkling blue eyes, high cheekbones, generous lips that so easily curved into a smile, determined chin. Here, here was the true Lord Winslow, a far more striking figure than his sallow, flabby brother. Her eyes flitted guiltily toward her eldest, wondering if she read her traitorous thoughts within.<\/p>\n

But Claiborn was already moving forward, arms out, and she rushed to him. He lifted her and twirled around, making her giggle and then flush with embarrassment. \u201cClaiborn, Claiborn!\u201d<\/p>\n

He laughed, the sound warm and welcoming and then gently set her to her feet. \u201cYou are still lovely, Mother.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are kind to an old woman,\u201d she said. She reached up and cradled his cheek. \u201cThe wars\u2026you return to us unhurt?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOnly aching for home,\u201d he returned.<\/p>\n

He took the horsehide-covered seat she offered and Edmund took another. A servant arrived with tea and quickly poured.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you hungry, Son?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStarved, but the tea will tide me over until we sup.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, tell us about the wars,\u201d Edmund said.<\/p>\n

\u201cLike all wars\u2014bloody and uncomfortable. I lost some good friends. God be praised, I came through all right.\u201d<\/p>\n

Edmund let out a scoffing sound. \u201cDon\u2019t tell me you turned religious!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReligious enough to seek my Maker when facing death.\u201d<\/p>\n

Edmund laughed and Leah frowned. He had a high-pitched laugh that sounded like the whinnying of a horse. \u201cNot very religious when you were growing up. I had to thrash you for chasing the maids.\u201d<\/p>\n

Claiborn reddened and guiltily glanced at Leah. \u201cI suppose I was a terrible.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou were young,\u201d Leah put in. \u201cNow you are a man.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe forgets just how troublesome you were,\u201d Edmund said.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou might have been the same, had you faced manhood and the loss of your father in the same year. You were fortunate, Edmund, to be a man full grown before you became Lord Winslow.\u201d<\/p>\n

Edmund pursed his narrow lips and considered her words. \u201cYes. I suppose there is a certain wisdom in that, Mother. A thousand apologies, Claiborn,\u201d he said, with no true apology in his tone.<\/p>\n

\u201cNone offense taken. So tell me, what\u2019s the feeling here about the king?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMost are for Henry. He\u2019s a strong man\u2014but it troubles all that he seems to have a ghost haunting him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA real ghost?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, but it might be better if it were,\u201d Edmund grinned. \u201cHenry defeated Richard III at Bosworth, and he claimed the crown. But he\u2019s always thinking that someone with a better claim to the crown will lead a rebellion and cut his head off.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you think that could happen?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. Henry\u2019s too clever to let that happen.\u201d<\/p>\n

Leah fidgeted in her seat, wondering when Edmund would tell his brother what he must. Would it be up to her? She kept silent for ten long minutes as the men continued to speak of Henry VII and his various campaigns. When it was silent, she blurted, \u201cHas Edmund told you of his plans?\u201d<\/p>\n

Edmund shot her a quick, narrowed glance, but then turned to engage his brother again.<\/p>\n

\u201cPlans?\u201d Claiborn\u2019s bright, blue eyes lit up. \u201cWhat is it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m to be married,\u201d he said, uncrossing his legs and crossing them again in a studied, casual way.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I assumed you already long married. Alice Williams is your intended bride, I suppose.\u201d<\/p>\n

Edmund\u2019s face darkened, and he took two quick swallows of tea and then shook his head. \u201cNo,\u201d he said in a spare tone. \u201cThat didn\u2019t come to fruition. She married Sir Giles Mackson.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy, he\u2019s an old man!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI expect that\u2019s why Alice married him. She expects to wear him out, then she\u2019ll be in control of everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t think Alice was that kind of a woman.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome now, most women are that kind of woman. Apart from our dear mother, of course.\u201d He reached out a hand to Leah and she took it. He held it too tightly, as if warning her. \u201cYou truly haven\u2019t learned more of women as you\u2019ve traveled?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot of what you speak.\u201d His eyes moved to his brother\u2019s hand, still holding their mother\u2019s. \u201cWell, who is it then? Who is the future Lady Winslow?\u201d<\/p>\n

Leah couldn\u2019t bear it then, watching her handsome son\u2019s face. She stared studiously at her tea, waiting for the words to come.<\/p>\n

\u201cObviously, I\u2019ve considered it for some time,\u201d Edmund said, releasing their mother\u2019s hand, setting down his cup and rising to stand behind her chair.<\/p>\n

Claiborn frowned but forced a curious smile. Why was he hesitating? \u201cCease toying with me, Edmund. Who is she?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have selected Grace Barclay.\u201d<\/p>\n

Claiborn\u2019s fingers grew white as he gripped the tea cup. With a shaking hand, he set it down before he crushed it. \u201cGrace Barclay,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes. She\u2019s comely enough, and I\u2019ve come to a fine arrangement with her father. We shall obtain all the land that borders our own to the east. That\u2019ll be her dowry. We\u2019ll be able to put in new rye fields and carry more cattle. It\u2019ll add a quarter to the size of Stoneybrook. You know how hard I tried to buy that land from her father, years ago. Well, he wouldn\u2019t sell, never would I don\u2019t think, but when he mentioned the match I thought, well, why not? It\u2019s time I married and produced an heir for all of this. I\u2019ll show you around the property tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n

Claiborn said nothing further, and felt frozen in place. Edmund prattled on about the new land that would soon be added, how it would benefit them all, and finally turned toward the door and said, \u201cCome 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\u2019s new here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEdmund, may I have a word with your brother?\u201d Leah said quietly.<\/p>\n

Edmund stared, as if having forgotten she was there. After a moment\u2019s hesitation, he said, \u201cCertainly, Mother. I shall see you both in the dining hall.\u201d Then straightening his coat, he exited the room.<\/p>\n

Claiborn struggled to speak. At last he asked, \u201cWhen will the marriage take place?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe date has not been set, but it will be soon.\u201d 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! \u201cClaiborn, it is a business arrangement. Nothing more.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut she was mine. He knew I courted her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd then you left her. She has been of marriable age for some time, now. For all we knew, you could have already died on foreign soil, never to return. 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.\u201d<\/p>\n

Claiborn rose. \u201cWhat of love? What of passion? Grace and I shared those things.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYears ago, you shared those things. Now you must forget them. Your brother, Lord Winslow, has chosen.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cChosen my intended!\u201d Claiborn thundered, rising.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou did not make your intentions clear,\u201d Leah said quietly, pain in every word.<\/p>\n

\u201cI 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\u2026\u201d 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.<\/p>\n

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 time in solidarity. \u201cI\u2019m 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.\u201d<\/p>\n

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, \u201cI think I\u2019ll go to bed. My journey was long today.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, you\u2019d better,\u201d Edmund said, mopping the gravy from the trencher with a chunk of bread \u201cTomorrow we\u2019ll look things over, find something for you to do while you are home. Will you return to the army?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m not quite sure, Edmund.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBad business being a soldier! Out in the weather, always the danger of some Spaniard or Frenchman taking your head off. We\u2019ll find something for you around here. Time you got a profession. Maybe you\u2019d make a lawyer or even go into the church.\u201d He laughed then and said, \u201cNo, not the church. Too much mischief in you for that! Go along then. Sleep well and we\u2019ll discuss it further on the morrow.\u201d<\/p>\n

. . . . . . . . . . . .<\/p>\n

As Claiborn rode up to the property owned by John Barclay, he felt as if he were coming down with some sort of illness. He had slept not at all, but had paced the floor until his mother 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.<\/p>\n

Now as he pulled up in front of the large house where Barclay lived with his family, he dismounted, and a smiling servant came out. \u201cGreetings, m\u2019lord, shall I grain your horse?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, just walk him until he cools.\u201d<\/p>\n

He walked up to the door, his eyes troubled and his lips in a tight line. He was shown in by a house servant, and five minutes later John Barclay, Grace\u2019s father, came in. \u201cWell, Claiborn, you\u2019re back. All safe and sound, I trust?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Sir. Safe and sound.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow did the wars go? Here, let\u2019s have a little wine.\u201d<\/p>\n

Claiborn\u2019s head was splitting already from the hangover, but he took the mulled wine so that he might have something to do with his hands.<\/p>\n

John Barclay was a small man, handsome in his youth, but now at the age of forty he was beginning to show his age poorly. He pumped Claiborn for news of the wars, customarily passed along the gossips of the court and of the neighborhood. Finally he got to what Claiborn had come to address. \u201cI assume your brother has told you that he and my girl Grace are to be married?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, Sir, he did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, it\u2019s a good match,\u201d he rushed on. \u201cShe\u2019s a good girl and your brother is a good man. Good blood on both sides! They\u2019ll be providing me with some fine grandchildren. A future.\u201d<\/p>\n

Claiborn did not know exactly how to proceed. He had hoped to find Grace alone, but Barclay did not mention her, so finally he said, \u201cI wonder if I might see Miss Grace? Offer my future sister-in-law my thoughts on her impending nuptials?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCertainly! She\u2019s up out in the garden. Let her welcome you home. She\u2019ll tell you all about the wedding plans, I\u2019m sure.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, Sir.\u201d Getting up, Claiborn walked out of the castle. He knew where the garden was, for he had visited Grace more than once in this place. He turned the corner, and his first sight of her seemed to stop him in his tracks. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. A tall woman with blonde hair and well-shaped green eyes, with a beautiful smile. He stood there looking at her, and finally she turned and saw him. She was holding a pair of shears in her hands, and she dropped them and cried out, \u201cClaiborn\u2014!\u201d<\/p>\n

Moving forward, Claiborn felt as if he were in some sort of dream world. He came to stand in front of her and could not think of what to say. It was so different from what he had imagained it would be like when he first saw her after his long absence. How many times had he imagined taking her into his arms, turning her face up, kissing her and whispering his love, and her own whispered declarations\u2026<\/p>\n

But that was not happening. Grace had good color in her cheeks as a rule, but now they were pale, and he could see her lips were trembling. \u201cClaiborn, you\u2019re\u2014you\u2019re home.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAye, I am.\u201d<\/p>\n

A silence seemed to build a wall between them, and it was broken only when she whispered, \u201cYou know? About Edmund and me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI knew nothing until yesterday when Edmund told me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought he might send you word.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s not much of a one for writing.\u201d Claiborn suddenly reached out and took her by the upper arm. He squeezed too hard and saw pain rise and released his grip. \u201cI can\u2019t believe it, Grace! I thought we had an understanding.\u201d<\/p>\n

Grace turned her shoulders more toward him. \u201cAn understanding, of sorts,\u201d she said quietly. \u201cBut that was a long time ago, Claiborn. Much has transpired since you left.\u201d<\/p>\n

He couldn\u2019t stop himself. He reached out his hand to take her own, gently. \u201cI\u2019m sorry. I was a fool.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou were young. We both were. Perhaps it is best that we leave it as that.\u201d She turned her wide, green eyes up to meet his.<\/p>\n

He frowned. \u201cIs that all it was to you? The passion of youth? Frivolity? Foolishness?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNay,\u201d she sais softly, so softly he wondered if he had misheard her. But then she repeated it, squeezing his hand. His heart surged to doubletime. Her voice was unsteady as she said, \u201cI did everything I could to get out of the marriage, Claiborn. I begged my father, but he wouldn\u2019t take no for an answer. He\u2019s determined\u2026and so is your brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know Edmund is stubborn, but there must have been some way, Grace.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, both your brother and my father see a woman as something to be traded. I don\u2019t think my father ever once thought of what I wanted, of what you and I once shared, of would make me happy. Nor Edmund. He\u2019s never courted me. It is purely an arrangement that suits well\u2026on the surface.\u201d<\/p>\n

Suddenly Claiborn asked, \u201cDo you think you might come to love him, Grace?\u201d<\/p>\n

Tears came into Grace\u2019s eyes. \u201cNo,\u201d she whispered. \u201cOf course not! I love you, Claiborn. You must know that.\u201d<\/p>\n

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\u2014which would undoubtedly bring a period of strife. And yet any great battle worth fighting began the same way. \u201cWe\u2019ll have to go to them both, your father and my brother,\u201d he said. \u201cWe\u2019ll explain that we love each other, and we will have to make them understand.\u201d<\/p>\n

Grace shook her head. \u201cIt won\u2019t do any good, Claiborn. Neither of them will listen. Their minds are made up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019ll have to listen!\u201d Claiborn\u2019s voice was fierce. \u201cCome. We\u2019ll talk to your father right now\u2014and then I\u2019ll go try to reason with Edmund. My mother will come to my aid, I am certain.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI fear it will do no good\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut we must try.\u201d<\/p>\n

She accepted his other hand and met his gaze again. \u201cYes,\u201d she said with a nod, \u201cwe must try.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGrace Barclay, if we manage this feat, would you honor me by becoming my bride?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIndeed,\u201d she said, smiling with fear and hope in her beautiful eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome, then,\u201d he said, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. \u201cLet us see to it then.\u201d<\/p>\n

The two of them went inside, and found Grace\u2019s father eating grapes. Claiborn knew there was no simple manner to enter the discussion at hand so he said, \u201cMr. 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.\u201d<\/p>\n

John Barclay stared at the two, then hastily swallowed a mouthful of grapes. The juice ran down his chin, and his face was scarlet. \u201cWhat are you talking about, man? I\u2019ve told you, she\u2019s to marry your brother!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFather, I never cared for Edmund,\u201d Grace said at once. She held her head up high, and added, \u201cI\u2019ve loved Claiborn for a long time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHave 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!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut father\u2014!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot another word, Grace! You\u2019re marrying Edmund Winslow, and I\u2019ll hear no more about it!\u201d Barclay turned to Claiborn, and his face was contorted with rage. \u201cAnd you! What sort of brother are you? Coming between your brother and the woman he\u2019s sought for his wife! You\u2019re a sorry excuse for a man! Get out of here, and never come back, you understand me?\u201d He turned to Grace and shouted, \u201cAs for you, girl, go to your room! I\u2019ll have more words for you later\u2026!\u201d<\/p>\n

. . . . . . . . . . . .<\/p>\n

As Claiborn rode out of the environs of Barclay Castle, 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.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you ran off early this morning. What was so pressing that you could not even stop to break your fast?.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI must have a word with you, Edmund.\u201d<\/p>\n

His brother said something else to the field hand and then turned to walk beside him. \u201cWell, what is it? Have you given thought to your profession?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, no, it\u2019s about Grace.\u201d<\/p>\n

Edmund\u2019s eyes narrowed. \u201cGrace? What about her?\u201d<\/p>\n

Claiborn faced his brother and said, \u201cGrace and I love each other. We have for a long time. Forgive me for this, but we wish to be married, Edmund.\u201d<\/p>\n

Edmund\u2019s face contorted into a look of confusion. \u201cHave you lost your mind, Claiborn? She\u2019s engaged to me! Everyone knows about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Claiborn began to try to explain, to reason, and even to plead with Edmund, but Edmund scoffed, \u201cYou were always a romantic dreamer, boy. But you are a man grown now. You must embrace life and all its practicalities, as I have. Think if it. The woman is handsome, yes, but what she brings to this estate is even more attractive. There will be another girl for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps Barclay will still give the land as Grace\u2019s dowry if she marries me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course he won\u2019t! Are you daft? I\u2019m the master here! Now don\u2019t be difficult about this, Claiborn. It\u2019s for the good of the House of Winslow. Let\u2019s hear no more about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

. . . . . . . . . . . .<\/p>\n

The thing could not be kept a secret, and soon everyone at both houses knew what had happened. Edmund made no secret of his displeasure, and finally, after three days, he found Claiborn, and his anger had hardened, but he gave Claiborn one more chance to change his mind. \u201cLook you now, Claiborn,\u201d he said. \u201cYou know you have no way to provide for a wife, without me. And if you stubbornly pursue this one as your wife, I shall turn you out. What kind of a life would a woman have with you then? You know as well as I she\u2019d be miserable. Grace has always the best of everything. What would she have with you, outside of the House of Winslow? Dirt, poverty, sickness, misery, that\u2019s what she\u2019d have. You must see that.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut Edmund, we love each other. If you\u2019d help me fit myself for a profession\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI will help you! I\u2019ve said so already\u2014but I\u2019d be made to look ridiculous if my own brother took my choice for a wife from me. A lord cannot be made to look the fool. It will bind me in every future arrangement I make. No, the die has been cast. You must live with what has transpired in your absence.\u201d<\/p>\n

Claiborn had never asked his brother for anything, and he hated to beg, but he pleaded with Edmund until he saw that it was useless.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou cannot remain here,\u201d Edmund said flatly. \u201cNot feeling the way you do about my intended. Refusing to act as a man. Refusing the way of honor.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI cannot be the man God made me, honor what he has placed on my heart, and do anything but this!\u201d Claiborn cried, arms out, fingers splayed.<\/p>\n

Edmund stared at him for a moment and said coldly, \u201cI never want to see you again, Claiborn. You have betrayed me, turned away from all I\u2019ve given you!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd you did not betray me? You knew I courted Grace!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOnce upon a time, as a young whelp! How was I to know you fancied a grand return, a romantic reunion? No, I deal with a man\u2019s responsibilities, and I shall move forward as that, as a man.\u201d<\/p>\n

Claiborn stared hard at him. \u201cMother will\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMother will side with me. With the Lord of Winslow. She knows her place.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust as Grace will know it, right? Pretty, and placed in a corner, until you have need of her in your bed.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGet out. My bride is my family, my business. And you, you are no longer kin to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

. . . . . . . . . . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cGrace, I\u2019ve hoped you\u2019d show more sense,\u201d her father said. \u201cYou don\u2019t see life the way it is, so I can\u2019t let you make such a terrible mistake.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt would be a terrible mistake if I married a man I didn\u2019t love.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNonsense! You\u2019ve been unfairly influenced by those French romances. I knew I should not have allowed them in my house!\u201d<\/p>\n

Grace sighed. To be fair, she had placed him in a terrible position, and never challenged him on anything of note. Up until now. \u201cFather, I believe in love. Did you not once love my mother?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere was no nonsense. She understood how things progress, between a man and a woman. She\u2026\u201d He colored, growing so frustrated in choosing his words that he shook his finger in her face. \u201cMy father and her father saw that there were advantages to our marriage, and we were obedient. We had a good life.\u201d<\/p>\n

Grace lost her mother to the fevers when she was fourteen, just as Claiborn had lost his father at the same age\u2014but she well remembered how unhappy she had been, how she longed for affection, but got very little from her husband. John had loved her mother, just as she knew he loved her, but he seemed incapacitated when it came to showing it. \u201cI love Claiborn, Father,\u201d she repeated. \u201cI beg you, don\u2019t force me to marry a man I don\u2019t love.\u201d<\/p>\n

John opened his mouth as if to say something in fury, then abruptly closed it, turning away from her. He took a step toward the fire, burning in the hearth, and ran a hand through his thinning hair. \u201cWe shall discuss it no further. You are marrying Sir Edmund Winslow. I shall see to it myself.\u201d<\/p>\n

. . . . . .<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll have to leave here, Grace.\u201d Claiborn had come under cover of darkeness to meet with her in the garden. The air was heavy for the rain had come earlier and soaked the earth.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, we will.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have nothing to offer you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Grace looked up. \u201cBut I have something to offer you. You remember my Aunt Adella?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe married an Irishman when we were but children, didn\u2019t she?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, and he died, and now she\u2019s dead. She left the farm in Ireland to me. That\u2019s where we must go and make our lives.\u201d<\/p>\n

It sounded like a dream\u2014an unfavorable dream since Claiborn had no good opinion of Ireland. But it seemed they had little choice. Perhaps it was of God, this provision.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis asks much of you, Grace. You\u2019d have the life you were born to, here, if you married Edmund.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, my life would be tragic, living with a man I didn\u2019t love and never again seeing the man I do. There is no choice. Come for me, in two days\u2019 time. I shall meet you by the side gate, when all are deeply asleep.<\/p>\n

.. . . . . .<\/p>\n

Two days later, Claiborn waited outside the Barclay estate in the dark, nervously shifting from foot to foot. He had stolen away from Stoneybrook as soon as even the lightest sleeper was deep into his dreams. But if she didn\u2019t emerge soon\u2026if Edmund discovered he was gone, and here, or if Grace\u2019s father came upon them\u2026his hand went to his sword. He would do what it took to get his intended away from here. But if anyone died as they departed, it would haunt them forever. \u201cPlease Lord,\u201d he muttered under his breath. \u201cMake a way for us. Help us depart in peace.\u201d<\/p>\n

Two men approached and Claiborn narrowly ducked around a copse of trees in time. But the lads had been too deep into the ale to notice him\u2014-nor Ned\u2019s soft whinny in greeting to their own horses. They trotted past, laughing so giddily Claiborn wondered how they stayed astride their mounts. His eyes moved back to the side door, where he had sent word for her to meet him. \u201cMake haste, Grace,\u201d he begged through gritted teeth. \u201cMake haste!\u201d<\/p>\n

Edmund was not a fool. He was certain to have encouraged servants to keep an eye out for him and any suspicious actions within Stoneybrook. With each minute that ticked by, their risk of exposure increased. Claiborn\u2019s eyes traced the outline of the side door, willing it to open. Had she changed her mind? Or been intercepted? His mind leapt through different options, should she not emerge within a few minutes. Steal inside? Summon a servant and demand he see her? Or walk away?<\/p>\n

But then, there she was. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if his mind was playing tricks upon him. No, it was her. She had come! He hurried forward, wincing as the cart behind Ned creaked in protest. Her head swung toward the sound and she hurriedly shut the door behind her, turning a key in the lock and pocketing it.<\/p>\n

He took her hands in his. \u201cAll right, sweetheart. We\u2019ll find someone to marry us straight away, and then we\u2019ll make a life together in Ireland. Thank you for this honor. Thank you for trusting me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m trusting you and God, Claiborn.\u201d<\/p>\n

Claiborn was well aware that he did not really know God in the way that Grace did She had a firm faith in the Lord, and his religion had been more of a formality, but now he put his arms around her and kissed her. \u201cI hope you\u2019re right, Grace. At least we\u2019ll have each other.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes,\u201d Grace smiled up, tears in her eyes. \u201cWe\u2019ll have each other.\u201d<\/p><\/div>\n

MY REVIEW:<\/strong><\/p>\n

\n
\n

Let the enemy persecute my soul, and take it; yea, let him tread down
\nmy life upon the earth, and lay mine honour in the dust.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

Psalm 7:5<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

\n
\n

Honor in the Dust <\/a>is the first book in the new Winslow Breed trilogy by Gilbert Morris and is a prequel to the popular House of Winslow series. As I have come to expect from other Morris historical novels I have read, Honor in the Dust<\/a> seems to be well researched and filled with facts about the period in which it is set. Characters and events are fictional as well as historical and are melded together in such a way that history comes to life.\u00a0 Honor in the Dust<\/a> takes place primarily in Tudor England – on the Winslow Stoneybrook estate, on the streets and countryside around London, and in the court of King Henry III. The indulgent, morally lax atmosphere of King Henry’s court is contrasted with the lives of honor portrayed in the characters of Claiborn and Grace Winslow, Heather Evans, and William Tyndale, all followers of Christ.
\n
\n<\/code>
\nAs the reader follows the story of Stuart Winslow from his parents’ marriage to his participation in the royal courts and beyond, they will be intrigued by his experiences and concerned about the decisions he will be forced to make. To get the whole story, you can purchase a copy of Honor in the Dust<\/a> for yourself at CHRISTIANBOOK<\/a> or AMAZON.COM<\/a>. Or you can check my next post and enter to win the copy I have to give away.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[8,52,34],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2335","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-books","category-england","category-historical"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2335"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2335"}],"version-history":[{"count":15,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2335\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2370,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2335\/revisions\/2370"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2335"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2335"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.daysongreflections.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2335"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}