The Knight and the Dove

by Lori Wick

  “Tell us the rest, Bracken,” she entreated after a time.

  “We took the journey home very slowly. When we arrived, I felt certain that all would be well. This was not the case. Megan lay sleeping for days, and at times she grew so still that I feared I would lose her.”

  Bracken reached for Megan’s hand, and continued with his eyes on his mother.

  “I have never known such fear. In the past I have made vows to God, but always on my terms. This time I only asked God to spare Megan because I knew she could tell me how to find Him. The hole in my heart went on without end. I have never known such desperation. I wanted for the first time to have a relationship with God’s Son, and I had no idea how to go about it.”

  “And then Louisa came,” Joyce filled in, her heart in her eyes. Bracken smiled as well at the remembrance.

  “Yes. I asked how she had heard of Megan’s illness, but of course she hadn’t. I know now that God sent her when I needed her most.”

  “And what did she tell you?” Stephen asked. He still believed as Bracken once had, that God had no real place in his life. Keeping this in mind, Bracken answered gently.

  “She was not easy with me. She told me that there would be no bargains, no guarantees. Louisa said my submitting to God would not spare Megan. God could still decide that her time on this earth was over.”

  “And yet you still believed?” Stephen seemed fascinated.

  “Yes. It sounds cold, but I knew that not even Megan’s spared life would fill the emptiness I felt within. I had run from God for years. It’s a wonder He did not give up. I knew that it was long past time for me to surrender.”

  Bracken turned then and looked at Megan, his hand still holding hers. “God has given me my wife and my child, but of more importance is what He did for my spirit.”

  Megan smiled tenderly into his eyes. She had longed and prayed for this without really thinking how precious it would be. The change in him was so dramatic. Their life was not perfect, but when God spoke through the Holy Scriptures about new life, Megan had only to look at her husband to know just what He meant.

  The warm fellowship of the group was interrupted when Stephen suddenly stood. Megan had been so intent on Bracken that she had not noticed his discomfort. Without looking at anyone, Stephen wordlessly walked from the room. No one spoke for a time, but then Bracken broke the silence.

  “He will come,” the older brother spoke with confidence.

  “Yes,” Giles agreed, a smile on his face. “He fights as you did, Bracken, but as with you, it is just a matter of time.”

  Bracken reached and clapped Giles on the shoulder. “It’s good to have you here, Giles. Maybe Mother would agree to your staying for a time.”

  The younger man’s eyes lit up, and he turned to Joyce.

  “Mother?”

  “I don’t see why not.” She smiled at him. “It will be quiet with Kristine at Danella’s—she is expecting again—but I shall survive.”

  “It’s settled then,” Bracken announced and stood. “Let us go and see how you’re doing with your archery.”

  Bracken’s hand dropped for a moment onto Megan’s shoulder, and then the women watched them move away. The conversation waned after that, but neither woman cared. Feeling tired of a sudden, Megan was content to doze. Joyce, after her long journey, wanted to sit quietly and pray.

  Megan’s first pain hit her in the kitchens. A month had passed. Stephen had moved on, but Joyce was still at Hawkings Crest, and Giles was also in attendance. No one noticed the duchess’ sudden look of shock or the way she held onto the edge of the table with a white-fingered grip. After a time, she stood erect and rubbed the dampness from her upper lip.

  The next contraction was over 20 minutes later, but it lasted much longer and Megan was thankful that she’d taken herself off to be alone in her parlor. She panted for a time afterward and debated calling for someone. The thought of lying in bed, as she was sure everyone would insist she do, was not to be tolerated.

  Feeling fairly well, Megan forced herself to rise and go about her business. In no time at all, she grew fairly adept at turning away from the people around her or sitting down when she felt a pain coming on. She was not one given to moaning or crying out, but some cramps taxed her to the limit of her self-control.

  Hours had passed when Bracken sought her out. He was slightly preoccupied, so although Megan had just had a contraction that flushed her face and beaded her brow with moisture, he didn’t notice anything amiss.

  “I am going hunting. The hour is not early, but with the light snow from this morning, the timing is good.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t, Bracken,” Megan said unexpectedly.

  The duke blinked at her. “What did you say?” His voice told of his incredulity.

  Megan sighed. “I’m sorry, Bracken; I just wish you could be home right now.”

  He studied her intently for a moment, first her eyes and then her swollen stomach.

  “Your pains have started,” he stated seriously, his voice low.

  “Yes,” Megan admitted.

  “ ’Tis too soon,” he said, as if to reason with her would make them go away.

  “They have come,” Megan told him logically.

  “When?”

  “Hours ago.”

  Bracken bent promptly and lifted her in his arms. Megan protested and tried to gain his attention, but they were at the bottom of the stairs before he listened to her.

  “Please, Bracken.”

  “Please what?” He stopped and stared down at the round bundle in his arms.

  “I do not wish to go to bed. The pains started around 20 minutes apart. Now, hours have passed, and they are still some ten minutes apart. I cannot lie in bed for hours, Bracken, or I will lose my sanity.”

  The indecision was clear in his eyes. Good sense told him to take her right to bed, but eyes humbly entreated him and told him to listen to her words. He stood for long minutes and then slowly lowered Megan so she could stand.

  “I will abide by your wishes—” he began just as a pain hit her. Bracken forced himself to stand helplessly by as Megan held onto his arm with strength that only severe pain can bring. She panted as it subsided, and Bracken felt breathless himself when he spoke.

  “Please let me take you up, Megan.”

  The small woman emphatically shook her head. “I tell you true, Bracken, it will be hours yet. Let me stay active.”

  His great chest rose in a heartfelt sigh. “As you wish. I will be at your side at all times, and I will have Helga ready our room, but for the time I will do as you ask.”

  More hours passed, and still Megan felt no real urgency. To Bracken’s chagrin, his mother agreed with Megan’s handling of the situation. Joyce stayed close herself but she did not urge Megan to alter her plans.

  The evening was growing long when Megan’s demeanor changed. She sat quietly through two more very close contractions before speaking to her husband.

  “I wish to go upstairs now, Bracken.”

  The young duke heard her, but for a moment he could not react. He had watched the intense pain these last spasms had brought, and for a moment he was paralyzed with anguish for her. She had shown the qualities of a knight the way she suffered without complaint, but watching her, there was no disguising the misery.

  “Bracken,” Giles said, shaking his brother’s arm. “Help her.” Still the older man did not move.

  “Bracken,” Joyce now tried. “Megan is ready to go upstairs.”

  Joyce and Giles shared a look and then glanced at Megan. They found her looking oddly at her husband. She stared at him for the space of several minutes and then spoke gently.

  “I need your help, Bracken. I know that the day has been long, but if you could only get me to our bedchamber, I will give you your son.”

  The word son seemed to snap Bracken out of his trance. He moved swiftly then, but with extreme gentleness. He lifted Megan as if she herself were the child and bore his pr
ecious bundle carefully to her bed. He bent over her once she was settled but had to wait while she gripped his hand for another pain. When it subsided, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right,” Megan smiled at him in love. “I understand.” Megan stroked his beard until another paroxysm gripped her, and Bracken moved to allow his mother and Helga access.

  The remaining time was not long, but to Bracken it felt like hours. It was just before midnight when from his place in his wife’s salon he heard a baby cry. He had been trying to read Megan’s copy of the Psalms and Proverbs. He now set that aside and stood but could move no further. The door was open, and he heard his mother praise God in a loud voice, but he couldn’t make himself walk in.

  I have a son, his heart kept repeating. I have a son. It never occurred to him that Megan might not be safe, but not until Joyce called to him could he propel his body forward.

  He walked into the room on shaky legs and found little light and even less activity. Megan lay still, her eyes on his as he entered. Joyce sat on a chair near the bed, a small parcel wrapped in her arms. Helga stood on the opposite side of the room, her eyes suspiciously moist.

  “How are you?” Bracken asked when he stood by the bed.

  “I am well. What do you think of our baby?”

  Bracken turned to bend over his mother. He smiled.

  “He’s not very big, is he?”

  “She, Bracken,” Joyce told him, and watched his look of astonishment.

  “She?” Bracken turned just his head to ask his wife. Megan nodded with a sleepy smile.

  “I know ’tis not what you planned, but she is all ours.”

  “She?” Bracken now asked of his mother. Joyce chuckled.

  “Take her, Bracken; hold her,” Joyce urged. “You will not yearn for a boy.”

  It was the best thing Joyce could have suggested. Bracken took the baby in his hands, awkwardly at first, and then moved her with confidence into the light. Her face was bunching up to cry and Bracken chuckled low in his throat.

  “Not only have you given me a daughter,” he lovingly accused Megan, “but I find the first time I hold her that she is a termagant.”

  Megan laughed as well. “Is she not beautiful? I think she has your chin.”

  The baby let out a wail then, but her parents ignored her.

  “My chin? You’ve never seen my chin.” Bracken’s bearded face was still turned to Megan.

  “But I can tell,” she stated with complete confidence. “Will you bring her here?”

  Joyce and Helga exited quietly when Bracken put their daughter in the crook of Megan’s arm and sat on the bed beside her. They looked at her for long minutes and then at one another.

  “What shall we call her?”

  “I don’t know, Bracken. I had only a boy in mind.”

  Bracken troubled his lower lip.

  “Gwen is a pretty name.”

  “She doesn’t look like Gwen,” Megan told him, her eyes on the baby. “How about Ursula?

  Bracken’s nose wrinkled. “I knew an Ursula once. She was an old hag.”

  And on the search went. It was a ridiculous time of night to be discussing names, but more than an hour passed before it occurred to them that a name did not need to be decided upon immediately. Bracken sought his bed with the intention of sleeping through the night. He might not have bothered had he known that the matter would still be decided before morning.

  Somewhere around 3:00 a.m. he woke to the sound of the baby crying. When he got to Megan’s room he found the baby lying comfortably at her breast. Bracken stretched out carefully on the bed to watch. Megan’s eyes were closed when it came to him.

  “Meredith.”

  “What?” she blinked, and then frowned at him.

  “Meredith. Do you like the name Meredith?”

  Again Megan blinked. “I do,” she said with some surprise. “Indeed, it’s a wonderful name.”

  Bracken nodded, well satisfied. “It will be so. Meredith of Hawkings Crest.”

  “Do you think she’ll be Mary or Edith?”

  “Meredith,” Bracken stated firmly, and Megan agreed. A moment later she looked down to see the baby staring right at her.

  “Did you hear that, my darling? You’re our little Meredith. Isn’t that a wonderful name?” Megan pressed a soft kiss to her daughter’s brow and glanced up to find Bracken’s eyes on her. She thought he would have been watching the baby, but in the dim light she could see that he studied her intently.

  “I love you,” he said with sudden tenderness, causing tears to rush to Megan’s eyes. “And I have loved you since I stood in the Reverend Mother’s office and knew that I would storm the abbey if that is what it took to get you back.”

  “Oh, Bracken,” Megan whispered. “I never knew.”

  “’Tis my fault. For far too long I was afraid to let you know you were in my heart.”

  “It’s good to know now.”

  Bracken leaned to kiss her, and when he moved they both saw that the baby was asleep again. Bracken tenderly lifted little Meredith, and when he was on his feet, called for Helga. When both infant and servant were gone, Bracken went back to the bed.

  “Will it disturb you if I join you?”

  “No,” Megan assured him. “It’s lonely in here.”

  “It was in my room as well.”

  Megan moved very carefully as she was still quite tender, but a few minutes later, her head was pillowed on her husband’s chest, his arm wrapped securely around her. She lay very still as the beating of his heart came steadily to her ear. Megan had worked at not holding onto Bracken’s life too tightly, reminding herself always that he belonged to God, but at that moment, she found herself praying that she would hear his heartbeat for years to come.

  Meredith needs us both, Father God, she prayed silently. If it be Thy will, may we raise her together and show Your love to her and to all who may follow.

  Megan then smiled at her own prayer. Meredith was just hours old, and here she was praying for more. What must she be thinking? Megan found it was not a hard question to answer. She was thinking of how much God had already given them. He was sure to have much more in mind, much more indeed.

  Epilogue

  HAWKINGS CREST

  OCTOBER 1542

  WORD OF BRAKCEN’S ARRIVAL CAME to Megan, and she swiftly passed baby Gwen into Helga’s waiting arms. She spoke a word to the other children, who obediently remained upstairs, their beautiful dark eyes watching their mother exit.

  Megan ran downstairs to the great room, but Bracken was not fast enough and Megan met him in the keep. He put an arm around her and swept her into the newly built chapel. When he found it empty, he pulled her up against him and found her lips with his own.

  “I missed you,” he said when at last they could speak.

  “And I you. Bracken,” Megan could wait no longer, “is it true?”

  Bracken’s eyes closed in agony. “’Tis true. Henry has found Catherine Howard guilty of misconduct and had her executed.”

  Megan let her head fall forward against his chest. “This is the fifth wife, Bracken; how much more will our king demand?”

  “He is obsessed. There is already talk of Catherine’s replacement.” Megan moved to look at him. Her eyes were sad. Bracken reached to touch her cheek.

  “How are you and the children?”

  “We are well.”

  “How about young Stephen’s touch of flu?”

  “He is also well. If activity means anything, he’s a specimen of health.”

  “I saw my brother Stephen in London. He talked of coming here to visit.”

  Megan shook her head. “He’s not been, and I can’t say as I’m sorry.” Her tone was teasing. “He spoils the children terribly when he’s here, especially young Stephen when the other children are not looking.”

  “Now I wonder why that is.” Bracken drew the words out, and duke and duchess smiled at one another.

  They both loved r
emembering the birth of young Stephen, now eight, and the rebirth of the older Stephen. Megan had been far along in the pregnancy when they’d made a trip to Stone Lake Castle. Stephen had accompanied them.

  It was not the best time to go, but Megan’s mother had just given birth to a baby daughter. Because Annora was doing so well, Vincent had begged them to come and meet Megan’s baby sister, Mercy. Vincent and Annora had named her such because of the mercy God had shown them in the way He worked in their lives and marriage. It was on the way home from Stone Lake that Megan’s pains began. Stephen had never been so frightened in all of his life as Bracken and Helga prepared Megan to give birth in the forest.

  Bracken and Megan were confident, calm even, but Stephen nearly came undone. Megan did not understand what was so frightening, but when Bracken left them for a time, Stephen began to talk.

  “What if you die?” There were tears in the young man’s voice. Finally Megan understood.

  “Then I’ll live forever with God,” she told him serenely.

  “Oh, Megan.” Stephen’s tone was tortured. “To have such assurance must be a wondrous thing.”

  “You can have it as well, Stephen.”

  “Nay, Meg, not I.” His look was heartrending.

  “Yes, Stephen, you. Trust me. I would never lie to you.”

  The words were a turning point for Stephen. He respected Megan as he did few people. He was ready to listen for the first time, and by the time Megan’s baby was born, Stephen was a new creature. It was simply a normal course of events to name the child after Bracken’s brother.

  “And what of little Arik and Gwen?”

  Megan pulled a wry face.

  “Arik has it in his head that he must have a sword for his fourth birthday next month, and he can talk of little else. Of course, big Arik’s encouraging him in this pursuit. Meredith has experienced a growth period and is almost as tall as I am. Gwen has a tooth in her mouth and is still spitting up all over me on a regular basis.”

  Megan was smiling and Bracken laughed at his wife’s description of their brood. He had been away for only a month, but so much had occurred. Indeed, not just in his family. England itself was changing before their very eyes.