“I am not cross,” William said, handing Alec the reins of all three horses. “But continue to stay out of sight. I am not entirely sure your mother and Paris would like it if they knew you had disobeyed.”
Alec took the reins as William headed back out of the livery in time to see Jordan, Edward, Cassiopeia, and Moira across the avenue as they attempted to hide in an alley next to a baker’s stall. They thought they were being so clever, concealing themselves behind barrels and fences. Rolling his eye at the ridiculous and disobedient nature of nearly everyone he was associated with, William proceeded across the street and back into the church.
By the time he arrived, the priests had returned and Paris and Jemma were speaking to them. William hurried up to the altar where they were gathered. Paris caught sight of him, clearly relieved he had returned.
“William, we were just discussing the condition of the church,” he said. “Father Bernardo tells me they do not have any money to spend on the upkeep. Is this church not within your earldom?”
William nodded his head. “It is and I know my wife has sent food and money to you on a regular basis,” he said. “What has happened to it?”
Father Bernardo was the priest with the beard. He was twisting his hands in a gesture that suggested great nervousness. “We have great need, my lord,” he said. “We have many…”
“Villagers,” said a short, young priest with a freckled face.
“Many villagers,” Father Bernardo continued. “We must feed them all.”
William frowned. “I know my wife sends her charity to you at least once a month and she has never told me that you require more. Have you told her that you do?”
Father Bernardo and the other priests shook their heads vehemently, as if frightened for some reason.
“Nay, lord, nay!” Father Bernardo said.
William thought it all sounded very strange. “Why not?” he said. “If you have need, you must tell me. I cannot read your mind.”
Father Bernardo leaned into him, whispering as if he didn’t want anyone to overhear. “If you give us more, they will take it, my lord.”
“Who will take it?”
The priests huddled together fearfully, shushing one another. No one wanted to give William an answer. Annoyed, he didn’t press. He simply shifted the focus as to why they were there in the first place.
“My friends have come seeking the church’s counsel in a matter,” he said, indicating Paris and Jemma. “They have questions and seek guidance.”
Father Bernardo turned his attention to Paris, who was looking at the priest with nothing short of disdain. He didn’t like anything about this smelly church and it showed. But Jemma poked his arm, prompting him to put aside that disdain for the moment. At least until he had some answers, but he wasn’t entirely sure he would respect any answers from this bunch.
Carefully, he proceeded.
“The lady and I have questions on the church’s position on people of our age… courting,” he said. “Courting for now, but if it comes to marriage, what is the church’s position on marriage between a widow and a widower?”
Father Bernardo’s brow furrowed. “The two of you, my lord?”
“Aye.”
“You wish to marry?”
Paris cleared his throat. It was the first time the concept of marriage had been introduced and, frankly, it made him a little nervous. As a young man, he’d been strongly against it and only when Caladora became pregnant with Hector did he decide marriage was acceptable, so to have it brought up again at this point made him feel as he did decades ago when he resisted marriage with all his heart.
Not strangely, he didn’t resist it so much anymore, but it still made him nervous.
“It is possible,” he said. “But we want to know what the church has to say on such a marriage.”
Father Bernardo looked between the two of them. The two priests on either side of him were also studying them. Beady eyes and pale faces, judging them. Paris felt very much as if he were being scrutinized and he didn’t like it.
“Well?” he demanded. “Haven’t you ever seen people of our age who wish to marry? Surely we are not the only ones.”
Father Bernardo whispered to the priests, who whispered back. They were huddling and whispering, which completely exasperated Paris. He looked at William, who simply shook his head at the outlandishness of the behavior. He was about to say so when Father Bernardo spoke.
“Is the lady of wealth?” he asked.
Paris looked at Jemma, who shook her head. “She is not,” he replied. “Why?”
“Because it is understandable if she is a lady of means,” Father Bernardo said. “Is she a duchess or a countess?”
Paris shook his head. “Nay.”
“Then she is a simple noblewoman?”
“She is a noblewoman, but she is anything but simple,” Paris said. Somehow, he didn’t like Jemma being called simple. “We have known each other for many years. Her husband has passed away, as has my wife. We would like to explore the possibility of keeping company with one another. You know… for companionship. Mayhap even for marriage. But we want to know what the church’s position is on marriage for people of our age, without any real wealth. Is it encouraged? Well?”
“You do not have any wealth, either?” Father Bernardo asked him.
Paris was becoming frustrated with all of the questions. “I have some wealth, but I am not titled, nor do I have properties,” he said. “I am the captain of the army for Northwood Castle and I serve the Earl of Teviot. I am a seasoned knight of the highest order.”
Father Bernardo seemed to be mulling over the situation. He looked between Paris and Jemma. “For companionship, you say?”
“Aye.”
More whispering with the priests. Paris was becoming quite impatient with them, as was William. What they didn’t realize was that Jemma had already reached her limit; while the men were exhibiting some patience, Jemma had none at all.
“This isna a complicated matter,” she said, interrupting the hissing. “I’m a widow and he’s a widower. We’ve known each other for most of my life. All we want tae know is the church’s position on older people, like us, keeping company with one another. Mayhap we’ll marry; mayhap we willna. But surely the church has a position on marriage between two people past their primes.”
Father Bernardo was back to being nervous again as the fiery lady spoke harshly to them. “You are Scots,” he said.
“I am.”
He pointed a finger at her. “They… they come and take from us,” he said. “Our food, our money. ’Tis the Scots who come and take from us!”
That made a little more sense to William and Paris as to why Father Bernardo was so nervous. William could see that even hearing Jemma speak had the man terrified.
“Father Bernardo, I will send men here to protect the church if that is the issue,” he said. “You needn’t worry about your safety if you have Scots raiding the church. But I would like you to answer their question. They have come to you for guidance.”
The promise of protection had Father Bernardo easing up just a little, but not completely. He seemed to be a nervous man in general. His frightened gaze moved from William back to Paris and Jemma.
“Marriage is to procreate,” he said. “It is God’s way of creating families. You cannot procreate; therefore, marriage would be a sin. You would be experiencing pleasures of the flesh simply for pleasure’s sake. That is wicked.”
That wasn’t the answer Paris had been expecting. “Are you telling me that the church expects older men and women to simply be lonely for the rest of their lives?” he asked. “We are not to know comfort or companionship or even love in our old age? I thought God was a loving God. That does not sound loving to me.”
Father Bernardo held up a finger, as if scolding Paris for his response. “And God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds o
f the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth’.” He wagged the finger at Paris. “The Bible tells us that God wants men and women to be fruitful. That is why there is marriage and for no other reason.”
Before Paris could reply, Jemma stepped in. “The Bible also says that two are better than one,” she said, struggling to keep her anger in check. “It says that if either of them falls down, one can help the other up. Pity anyone who falls and has no one tae help them up. If two lie down together, they will keep warm. How can one keep warm alone? Isna that what the Bible says?”
She was debating the priests on their own ground, which brought more hissing and whispering from the priests. The actually backed away from her, huddling as they muttered their opinions to one another. They were being evasive and stubborn, and Jemma was having none of it.
Her limited patience was at an end.
“Ye’re all hypocrites,” she snapped. “Ye live here, cold and alone, so ye dunna want anyone else tae know anything of comfort. If I wasna so disgusted with ye, I would pity ye, but ye’re not worth the effort. For a man and a woman tae keep company without the intent of procreating is not a sin and I’ll not have ye say so. It is not wicked tae feel affection or even love for someone ye dunna intend tae have children with. God is love. Dunna make him out tae be a celibate fool like the three of ye. Ye make me sick.”
With that, she turned and stormed out of the church, realizing she was close to tears by the time she reached the door. In truth, the tears were those of disappointment. She and Paris had come to seek the church’s guidance on the matter and the church was telling her that it was a sin.
Well, it wasn’t a sin.
She’d never felt less like a sinner in her life.
Just as she stepped out of the church, someone grabbed her from behind.
“Don’t let yourself be troubled by those idiots,” Paris said with surprising gentleness. “They know nothing. We’ll go to Kelso where the priests are not so strange.”
Jemma was trying very hard not to weep. “But what if they tell us the same thing?” she said, wiping at her nose. “We told Alec and Hector and the rest of them that we’d seek guidance from the church. How can we go back tae them and tell them what we were told? It would support every hesitation they had.”
Paris watched her as she wiped at her eyes, clearly distressed. “Does this upset you so, then?”
Jemma wouldn’t look at him. She was looking everywhere but him. “When Jordie first came tae me and spoke of ye and how ye had always been fond of me, I will admit that I was appalled at first,” she said. “I thought it was madness. We’ve never gotten on and I thought the mere suggestion was ridiculous. But… but then I thought about it. I thought about that handsome Sassenach I first met. I always thought ye were too arrogant for yer own good, and there were times when I wanted tae kill ye myself, but then I thought about the times when ye showed yer true character. When Bridget was born… when ye saved my life when I tried tae take it… when Kieran was ill, ye came so often tae see him and ye always asked about me. Oh, I know ye never asked me tae my face, but ye asked Jordie because she told me. And I watched ye tend Callie all of those years when she was ill. Ye were devoted tae her. Ye may be insufferable at times, Paris de Norville, but ye’re a good man. I suppose I had hopes up that we might actually be good… together.”
That was the most Paris had ever heard from her about the situation, all of it spilling out because of the trio of ridiculous priests. But they were some of the sweetest words he’d ever heard. His gaze was warm as he looked upon her.
“We will be,” he said softly. “And that is the closest you have ever come to flattering me.”
“It willna happen again.”
He grinned as she tried not to, but she’d meant it in jest. He knew that. Reaching out, he pulled her against him, hugging her tightly in perhaps one of the sweetest and most fulfilling embraces he’d ever known. It was something so new, so pure, so enchanting that he never wanted it to end. He simply stood there and held her, feeling her soft warmth against him.
My little banshee.
“Jemma,” he murmured into her hair. “I have something I must ask you.”
His embrace had her in tears again. He was warm and big and strong. Jemma had been embraced thousands of times by Kieran and she’d always drawn such strength from it. It had been comfort personified. But this… this was different. Each man was different. She’d lived and loved with Kieran for over forty years and they were some of the best years of her life. Nothing could ever replace Kieran in her heart or in her mind.
As Paris had said, he would be honored to walk beside him.
She realized that she could only be so fortunate.
Gently, she pulled away from him. “We should probably put distance between us before our chaperone throws cold water on us,” she said, watching him laugh. “What is it ye wish tae ask me?”
William picked that moment to exit the church, pretending like he hadn’t seen the pair in a passionate embrace through the open door. Truth be told, he had been thrilled to see it and hated to interrupt, but it was necessary.
“Well?” William said. “Shall we move on to Kelso and see what the priests there have to say?”
Paris was still looking at Jemma. “Nay,” he said. “There is no need. I do not care what they say. If I wish to pursue Lady Hage, then that is what I am going to do. To the devil with those idiot priests. Frigid bastards.”
William had to fight off a grin. “As you wish,” he said. “I am glad to hear it. In fact, I…”
Jemma held up a hand before William could continue. “Quiet,” she told him. She was gazing into Paris’ eyes as if unable to look away. “Paris has something tae ask me. Let him speak.”
Paris smiled. “I want to ask you if you will permit me to court you. I asked if I could call on you yesterday, but I want more than that. I want to court you. May I have your permission?”
A smile spread over Jemma’s lips. “Aye,” she said softly. “I would like that. But ye must ask Alec. He’s my firstborn, after all. It would do well tae have his permission, too.”
As Paris nodded, William shouted over their heads, in the direction of the livery. “Alec?” he called. “Did you hear that?”
As Paris and Jemma looked over at the livery in surprise, a muffled reply could be heard.
“Aye!”
It was Alec, hiding somewhere over by the livery. Jemma started laughing as Paris realized they had more than one chaperone, as he’d suspected all along. He shouted over in that direction.
“Well?” he yelled. “May I have your blessing to court your mother?”
There was no hesitation. “Aye!”
Paris started chuckling because Jemma was nearly doubled over with laughter at that point. That seemed to be invitation enough for Alec, Hector, Apollo, Adonis, and Nathaniel to reveal themselves, all of them timidly emerging from the livery. As they began heading over towards the church where Paris and Jemma and William were laughing, Jordan emerged from her hiding place across the avenue.
William, seeing his wife along with Cassiopeia, Edward, and Moira, waved them all over.
“Come on,” he said. “You may as well hear all of this firsthand since I am sure you cannot hear much from over there.”
With a grin, Jordan scurried across the road, followed by the others, until both groups came together right before the steps leading into the church. William put his hands on his hips, shaking his head at the entire collection of people.
“I told you all not to come, and this is what you do?” he said. “I should not have wasted my breath.”
Jordan came up on the steps, going to her husband and wrapping her arms around his waist. “I have been trying tae tell ye that since the day ye married me,” she said. “Anything ye tell me tae do is wasted breath.”
William put his arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze even as he frowned at her. Kissing her on the head, he returned his at
tention to Paris.
“See what you have to look forward to?” he said. “Callie was very obedient, but Jemma is much more like Jordan. You have your work ahead of you. Are you certain you want to do this?”
Paris nodded, gazing into Jemma’s amber eyes. Such pretty eyes, he thought. Aye, she was lovely still. He’d never seen finer. Reaching out, he took both of her hands in his big, rough mitts.
“I am certain,” he said. “But there is something I must say.”
Jemma squeezed his hands. “Go ahead and say it.”
Paris sobered, looking to Alec and Nathaniel and then to Moira. He took a deep breath.
“Your father was one of my dearest friends,” he said. “I swear to you that at no time will I ever try to replace him. I love and respect the man too much to even try. But I would be honored to walk beside him, in your mother’s life and in yours. But above all things, Kieran’s memory will be preserved and venerated. I want you to know that.”
As Alec and Nathaniel nodded in agreement, and in gratitude, Paris returned his focus to Jemma.
“But there’s something more I need to say,” he said to her. “I am not a great man with great titles. I am not William with his earldom. The truth is that although I have some wealth, I do not have titles. I do not even have property. I am a simple knight who has dedicated himself to the Earls of Teviot. It has been a good life, and a proud life, but I cannot offer you a home of your own. I can only offer you me. All of me. I hope that is enough.”
It was such a sweet thing to say and Jemma’s cheeks flushed. “That is more than enough,” she said softly. “I’ll take ye as ye are and be proud for it.”
“Are you certain?”
“I am.”
As they stood there and smiled at one another, something changed. Any reservations the sons seemed to have vanished. Even they could see the warmth and affection between Paris and Jemma, perhaps something that had been there, once, but never realized. Now, it was not only being realized, it was being accepted.
Nurtured.
The Best Is Yet To Be Page 15