The Best Is Yet To Be

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  They had the rest of their lives to explore it.

  As their children moved onto the steps to embrace them, to accept and enjoy what the future would bring to them all, William and Jordan were in their own private huddle. William was murmuring something into Jordan’s ear only for her to nod emphatically. That was evidently good enough for him because he turned to Paris and Jemma, capturing their attention.

  “Paris, do you recall Edenburn Tower?” he asked. “It sits on the River Glen about eight miles south of Castle Questing, near the village of Wooler.”

  Paris nodded. “I think so,” he said. “A pele tower on a hill, as I recall.”

  “Aye,” William said. “It houses about a hundred men. It’s not very big, but it’s a strong and important outpost.”

  “What about it?”

  “It’s yours.”

  Paris stared at him for a moment before his eyes widened. “What?” he hissed.

  William smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I said, it’s yours,” he replied, enjoying the man’s shock. “I will gift it to you and it will be your property, something to pass down to your children. Something that belongs only to the House of de Norville. For all of the years we have been the best of friends, for everything you have meant to me, it is a small token of my love for you. In fact, it would be a marvelous place to bring a new wife. She can have a home all her own. That is just a suggestion, of course.”

  Paris was stunned. “But… Edenburn is in your earldom. The lands are yours.”

  William shook his head. “Edenburn is right on the edge of my lands,” he said. “I will gift you the tower and the two villages nearest it. I will deed all of it to you. It is my gift to you, along with the title that goes with it – Lord Bowmont.”

  “But the king…”

  “I will inform him what I have done and I promise he will have no issue with it. It’s simply a landed property title, so it is within my power to give it to you, but the king will make it official.”

  There was nothing more Paris could say. For the first time in his life, he was actually speechless. He could think of nothing more to do than hug William fiercely.

  “Thank you, my friend,” he said softly. “For everything… thank you.”

  He was quite emotional at that point and William smiled at him, patting him on the cheek.

  “Look around you,” he murmured. “Two days ago, you told me how alone you were. How you were not needed. Look around; you are not alone, Paris. You are needed and you are loved more than you can ever know. And now you have a chance at a new life with a woman who was the bane of your existence.”

  He started to laugh, which set Paris off. Chuckling, he looked at Jemma as she chatted with Jordan and Moira. Perhaps she was a little grayer, a little rounder, and a little older. But none of that mattered to him.

  The Banshee was his.

  She had started out his, long ago. And in the end, she would be his again.

  “I have a feeling that is all in the past, William,” he said, his gaze lingering on her. “I suspect the best is yet to be.”

  William put his hand on the man’s head, an affectionate gesture, as Cassiopeia came to her father. As William discreetly moved away, allowing father and daughter to be alone, Paris put his arms around his youngest daughter.

  “Are you glad, sweetheart?” he asked softly. “You have been most supportive and patient through everything.”

  Cassiopeia squeezed him tightly. “I am very glad for you, Papa,” she said. “I’m just sorry we did not realize how badly you were feeling. Forgive me for not seeing how bad it was.”

  He cupped her face, looking her in the eyes. “It is over with,” he assured her softly. “I know you believe I am perfect, but it is a surprising fact that I am not. I have moments of weakness. But no more. I feel… hope. So much hope.”

  Cassiopeia smiled at him. “I am so glad,” she whispered. “You are not angry for Aunt Jordan’s deceit?”

  “Nay. Had she not done it, none of this would have happened.”

  “We just want you to be happy, Papa.”

  “I am.”

  “Promise?”

  “Shall I prove it?”

  With that, he left his daughter and went to Jemma, who was laughing with Jordan. Pulling Jemma away from Jordan, she looked at him curiously.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Paris faced her. “I have something to prove to my daughter.”

  “What?”

  “How happy I am.”

  A smile tugged at Jemma’s mouth. “Are ye truly?”

  “Are you?”

  “I asked ye first.”

  He laughed softly. “Is everything going to be a battle with you?”

  “Probably.”

  “In that case, I accept.”

  With that, he wrapped his arms around her and slanted his lips over hers, kissing her deeply in front of her children, his children, William and Jordan and Edward, and anyone else who happened to be looking. But he didn’t care. It was a powerful kiss that foretold of a life to come, of years to live, and of an unexpected happiness that would finally be realized.

  In the twilight years of his life, Paris never thought he’d ever know such a thing.

  As he’d told William, the best was yet to be, indeed.

  EPILOGUE

  Three Months Later

  The Chapel at Castle Questing

  “… and then she threw it at me,” Paris said. “I don’t know about you, but she throws things at me. I have a feeling you never did anything to warrant having something thrown at you, but she has excellent aim.”

  There was no response to his statement. He wasn’t expecting one. Sitting on the stone bench that William had installed for Jemma next to Kieran’s crypt, Paris had been having a one-sided conversation with the man for the past several minutes.

  He’d come here for a reason.

  It was Paris and Jemma’s first real visit to Castle Questing after their marriage the previous month. It had been the perfect ceremony, a gathering of their families and friends at Edenburn Tower where they had spoken their vows to one another in the presence of a priest from Kelso. The party that had taken place after that had gone on for three days, a feast of epic proportions, with food and alcohol supplied by the Earl of Teviot and the Earl of Warenton. Surrounding villages had participated, as had nearly every warlord in Northumberland.

  It had been a celebration to remember and a wedding night that had been relived every night since.

  This was Paris’ first opportunity to tell Kieran about it.

  “I would say that I wish you had been there, but if you’d been present, there would have been no marriage,” Paris continued. Leaning forward, he put his hand on the cold, stone crypt. “Kieran, I’ve been meaning to come to you since this all began, but there simply hasn’t been time. You know how it is when you start to court a woman. Christ, I’d forgotten, but it came back to me quickly. I had to treat this courtship carefully because I wanted to be respectful of your memory, and of your children, most of whom weren’t exactly enthusiastic in the beginning. But that changed, fortunately. Alec was more accepting, but Nat… he had a tougher time of it. He’s very much your son, Kieran. He has a hard time seeing his mother with anyone but you, but he has come to accept me. They all have.”

  More silence filled the chapel. Paris found himself looking around, at both of his deceased daughters, Athena and Helene, and the children who had perished buried with them. They had beautiful crypts with lovely effigies. Kieran was adjacent to them, his stone effigy as big and strong as he was in life. Paris finally stood up from the bench, his hands on Kieran’s effigy, remembering the man he’d loved like a brother.

  Now he’d married his brother’s wife.

  It was both a strange and a poignant moment.

  “Jemma wants to speak to you on her own, alone, so I will finish what I want to say to you and let her have her moment,” he said. “I suppose what I wanted to say w
as this… life is unexpected sometimes. It can be strange and terrible, but also astounding in its beauty. When you died, everyone said that part of Jemma died with you. She wasn’t the same, but she bore her burden with grace. Far more grace than I did when Callie died. I wanted to die, too, and I tried to make it so. Mayhap you already know that. But what rose from the ashes of my despair was something so unexpected, Kieran, something that Jemma is responsible for. I never thought I would say that I am happy again, but I am. Whether or not you realize it, you gave me that gift. In your death, you gave me Jemma. She has made me feel like I never thought I would feel again – she can be warm and kind, and so very wise. She must have gotten that from you. I never knew my little banshee could be like that. And, nay, I do not call her that any longer. She has become my little angel, though she doesn’t like to hear it. Personally, I think she misses being called Banshee, but she won’t admit it.”

  He started laughing, knowing that Kieran was laughing, too. He could almost hear it. In fact, he had been a little intimidated by the prospect of finally facing Kieran. But at the moment, he could feel nothing but acceptance and understanding. Kieran would have given him nothing less, knowing that Jemma was happy. That’s all that would have mattered to him. Reaching out, Paris put both of his hands on the stone hands of the effigy, looking into the face that vaguely resembled Kieran.

  “Most of all, I want to thank you,” he said quietly. “Thank you for being one of my dearest friends and thank you for leaving Jemma to my care. I swear to you that I will always take the greatest care of her, and of your memory. Both are precious to me. So, sleep well knowing Jemma is with me now. I will not fail you, or her.”

  With that, he patted the hands of stone and moved away from the crypt, his thoughts lingering on Kieran. Paris had never been a man who had thought much of others, but time and age had mellowed those selfish traits.

  For the most part, anyway.

  As his new wife put it, he was still a stubborn Sassenach with a proud streak, but it didn’t irritate her like it used to. In fact, she was most accepting of it, a man who had annoyed her, insulted her, courted her, married her, and finally told her than he loved her. Paris de Norville had become something so unexpected that Jemma considered herself the luckiest woman alive. She’d been blessed with the two finest husbands in all of England.

  And that was exactly what she told Kieran when she saw him.

  I’m fine, Kieran, and ye have Paris tae thank for it.

  But as the years passed and Paris and Jemma were eventually laid to rest in their own crypts, Jemma was put next to Kieran and Paris chose not to be buried in Scotland with Caladora. Instead, he had his own crypt in the chapel at Castle Questing so he could be with William and Kieran, men he wanted to be with in death as he was in life. He was one of the family, after all, and his children were more than happy to lay him to rest with his dear friends.

  More than friends.

  His brothers.

  But in a last show of respect to Kieran, Paris’ crypt was not placed next to Jemma, but rather at her head, which placed him next to his daughters, Athena and Helene. He lay with his daughters and grandchildren in death, but instead of regalia or weapons in his hands as most knights had, he held two scarves – one was inscribed with the name Caladora and the other one with the name Jemma, Lady Bowmont. On the foot of his effigy, however, and the one closest to Jemma’s crypt, the word Banshee was inscribed right where her effigy could see it.

  … and that had been Jemma’s idea.

  For the Banshee and the conceited Sassenach, the twilight years of their lives proved that lifelong enemies could produce strange bedfellows and that age was nothing but a number. Love and happiness, at any age, was possible.

  For indeed, for Paris and Jemma, some of the best years of their lives were found with each other.

  * THE END *

  About Kathryn Le Veque

  Medieval Just Got Real.

  KATHRYN LE VEQUE is a USA TODAY Bestselling author, an Amazon All-Star author, and a #1 bestselling, award-winning, multi-published author in Medieval Historical Romance and Historical Fiction. She has been featured in the NEW YORK TIMES and on USA TODAY’s HEA blog. In March 2015, Kathryn was the featured cover story for the March issue of InD’Tale Magazine, the premier Indie author magazine. She was also a quadruple nominee (a record!) for the prestigious RONE awards for 2015.

  Kathryn’s Medieval Romance novels have been called ‘detailed’, ‘highly romantic’, and ‘character-rich’. She crafts great adventures of love, battles, passion, and romance in the High Middle Ages. More than that, she writes for both women AND men – an unusual crossover for a romance author – and Kathryn has many male readers who enjoy her stories because of the male perspective, the action, and the adventure.

  On October 29, 2015, Amazon launched Kathryn’s Kindle Worlds Fan Fiction site WORLD OF DE WOLFE PACK. Please visit Kindle Worlds for Kathryn Le Veque’s World of de Wolfe Pack and find many action-packed adventures written by some of the top authors in their genre using Kathryn’s characters from the de Wolfe Pack series. As Kindle World’s FIRST Historical Romance fan fiction world, Kathryn Le Veque’s World of de Wolfe Pack will contain all of the great story-telling you have come to expect.

  Kathryn loves to hear from her readers. Please find Kathryn on Facebook at Kathryn Le Veque, Author, or join her on Twitter @kathrynleveque, and don’t forget to visit her website and sign up for her blog at www.kathrynleveque.com.

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