by Alexa Aston
Geoffrey sighed. “Alys is my easy one. Ancel, too. But young Hal?” He shook his head as the small boy ran wildly about the bailey chasing Cattus, who was to remain at Kinwick. “Hal is a big bundle of rambunctious boy. And I fear tiny Edward, he of the mighty lungs, will learn at his brother’s feet to be the same.”
Merryn swatted her husband playfully. “You exaggerate, Husband. And while you believe Hal is a terror, I fear you should keep your eye on Alys. I’ve heard daughters put the gray in their father’s head of hair.”
“She is already lovely, Merryn,” said Avelyn. “A miniature version of you. Alys will grow into quite a beauty.” She turned to Geoffrey. “Then Uncle will find himself beating the men away that flock to her. A whirlwind such as Hal will be nothing compared to the problems Alys may stir up—though none of her own making.”
Geoffrey snorted. “Let these would-be suitors try to surround my daughter. She is a de Montfort. She has her mother’s fair looks, my keen intelligence, and Raynor has taught her to defend herself. She won’t be swayed by pretty words.” He turned and looked to where Alys said her goodbyes to Sela. “Mark my words, the man she lets through will be the one for her.”
Avelyn kissed Geoffrey’s cheek and then Merryn’s. “I hope to see you both very soon.”
“Now that Edward is a bit older, we’ll certainly come to Sandbourne,” Merryn assured her. “We’ll wait for news that Elysande has given birth and then visit shortly thereafter.” She embraced Avelyn. “Give her and Michael our love.”
“And the same to my sister, Mary,” Geoffrey said. “We look forward to seeing her, as well. Godspeed to you.”
Kenric mounted Firefall and then reached to draw Avelyn up with him. Martin did the same with Lady Sela. They gave a final wave as Kenric spurred his horse on.
They traveled several hours without incident, stopping once around the noon hour to eat some bread and cheese that Lady Merryn thoughtfully provided. The respite served to also allow the riders to stretch their legs before they climbed back into the saddle.
As they rode on, Kenric sensed his stomach clenching as they neared Shadowfaire’s lands. It was the reason he hadn’t wanted to stop at Kinwick. The road they’d taken from Sandbourne to London had not crossed this way, but the path from Kinwick back to Sandbourne would. If he tried to avoid it, he knew his men might question why they went so far out of their way to reach home. He was determined never to set foot at Shadowfaire again—especially after the last time he’d seen Roland and his mother when they attended his knighthood ceremony. The memories surrounding those events should remain pushed into the farthest recesses of his mind, never to be recollected.
Kenric tried to bring himself to enjoy his present circumstances. It was a lovely day in May with plenty of sunshine and a soft breeze from the south. Plus, he had a beautiful woman in his arms. Avelyn fit perfectly against him and he enjoyed the feel of her near him. He inhaled the subtle scent of vanilla that always clung to her, knowing he would never smell it again without thinking of her.
He wondered about their budding friendship and how she had wormed from him things he had never spoken of with others. His thoughts drifted to their heated kisses, which caused his manhood to stir a bit. Kenric had never once thought of settling down with a single woman when so many fair maids lived scattered throughout the land. Besides, he’d dedicated himself to being a knight. Yet he now toyed with the thought of always remaining in one place.
With this woman by his side—and in his bed.
Kenric would have lazily stayed with such thoughts if he hadn’t spied the scout he’d sent out galloping toward them at breakneck speed. He motioned for the escort party to pull up and await the soldier’s arrival.
The man came to a halt beside him. “My lord, riders approach who know you. They were looking for you,” he said, out of breath.
Who? Why?
A sick feeling rippled throughout Kenric. It had to do with Shadowfaire.
He looked into the distance and saw two men on horseback heading their way. As they approached, he recognized Sir Jervis. The knight had been close to his father’s age and someone Walter Fairfax trusted implicitly.
They pulled up alongside him with Jervis giving a friendly wave.
“Sir Kenric. We are happy to meet up with you. ’Tis Gib with me.”
He exchanged a brief nod with Gib. And then Jervis said, “We knew not where to look for you. Gib and I have been throughout the north and were returning home. ’Tis fate to have you cross our paths.”
“Why was I needed? Did Lord Roland send you for me?”
Jervis looked downcast. “Your lady mother is dying, my lord, and wishes to see you one last time.”
Kenric felt Avelyn’s quick intake of breath since his arm pressed against her. He found it hard to believe his mother had requested his presence on her deathbed. He gripped Avelyn more closely.
Before he could reply, she asked, “Are we far from Shadowfaire?”
“Nay, my lady,” Jervis said. “You are but an hour’s ride from the keep.”
Avelyn turned and told him, “We must go to her.”
He frowned. “I will see you safely to Sandbourne first. I can leave once—”
“Nay,” she interrupted, her tone firm. “Time could be of the essence. We should accompany you there. It’s only a short delay. You can send a rider ahead to let Elysande and Michael know about our change in plans. I insist.” Her sky blue eyes implored him as much as her words.
“Very well,” he reluctantly agreed. Kenric knew Avelyn had a stubborn streak and he didn’t wish to argue with her in front of all of these men. He motioned a soldier over and told him to ride to Lord Michael with the news.
They followed Jervis and Gib back to the estate. Only as they rode near did Kenric realize he had not asked about Roland and wondered how his twin fared. Roland had always been so close to their mother. Her death would devastate him.
They reached the gates of Shadowfaire. Jervis signaled for them to be opened and the escort party rode through to the keep. When they reached it, Kenric dismounted and brought Avelyn to the ground, as did Martin with Lady Sela.
Jervis issued orders. “Gib, take these men and their horses to the stables. Have them rubbed down and fed. And then have the men set up to stay the night in the soldiers’ quarters. Once that’s done, bring them to the great hall, for the evening meal will follow soon after.”
Martin remounted and turned his horse to accompany the group that now rode toward the stables.
Jervis led them up the stairs and they entered the keep. The hallway seemed dim after the bright light they left behind. A cold penetrated Kenric. Not a physical one, though the keep was always cool within, but he’d never sensed any warmth in this place.
The knight stopped a servant and whispered a few words. The woman shot off to do his bidding. “Ladies, a chamber will be prepared for you to wash and rest in before the evening meal.”
Just then, Kenric spied Gussalen. The old woman carried a tray with a bowl. He assumed it to be soup that she would try and feed to his mother.
Gussalen caught sight of him and stopped in her tracks. A long look passed between them. He sensed Avelyn step closer to him and put a hand on his forearm. The servant lowered her eyes and continued on her way.
“Gussalen?” Avelyn whispered.
He nodded, not wishing to say the old woman’s name, so great was his contempt for her.
The servant Jervis spoke to returned and led them upstairs to a chamber, assuring that hot water would be delivered soon. Sela entered the room.
Avelyn stopped and faced Kenric. “Would you like me to go with you to see your mother?”
Kenric longed for her to accompany him, but he needed to do this on his own.
“Nay. I will look in on her and then locate my brother. I will see you later.”
He turned and allowed Jervis to lead him down the corridor to a chamber that had been Roland’s as a boy. It reminded him again th
at his brother was now earl and slept in the solar.
“I know not how the lady fares, my lord, since we were returning from our journey of the past month. I am sorry.”
Kenric only nodded. No words came. His throat was thick with emotion. Steeling himself, he pushed the door open and entered.
Chapter 12
Kenric paused, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim light of the chamber. He pushed the door behind him closed. Gussalen hovered over the bed and he walked toward her.
Then he caught sight of his mother. Gray streaks ran through her golden hair. Her pale skin, flush with fever, glistened with sweat. Labored breathing let him know that her time on earth drew to a close.
Gussalen’s head whipped around. “You!” she hissed. She dropped the wet cloth she held. Her hands balled into fists, ready to attack.
“Sir Jervis informed me that Mother requested my presence.”
Her sneer told Kenric what she thought of him. “She did. In a weak moment,” the servant admitted grudgingly. “I doubt she really wanted you back at Shadowfaire. You haven’t been missed—by anyone.”
“Mayhap Mother wished to apologize to me for her neglect.” Kenric didn’t bother to keep the bitterness from his tone.
“She was a good mother . . . to the one who needed mothering.” Gussalen glared at him. “You never wanted her fussing over you. You were your father’s boy, from your looks to your speech to your actions. You didn’t spare a moment to be kind to my sweet lady as a good son should.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Do you truly believe I didn’t need her? That I didn’t long for any sign of kindness from her?” He shook his head. “What I would have given for a single loving word or gesture from her. To have her stroke my hair. Cradle me in her arms. For her to tell me stories. Ask about my day.”
Kenric snorted in disgust. “She never gave me a second thought once I came out of her womb because her every waking moment revolved around Roland.”
Gussalen gave him a sly smile. “He was the firstborn, you know. ’Twas only fitting he receive the attention due an heir. Especially since he was frail from the moment of his birth.”
He shook his head. “I’ll grant you that Roland did need special attention due to his poor health, but I was also her son. She owed it to me to be a true mother and not toss me aside.”
The servant crossed her arms. “She owed you nothing. You were so large, you almost tore her apart as she gave birth to you. She could never have another child after you.”
Kenric hadn’t known that. Guilt swept through him for something he’d had no control over.
“And you were your father’s boy, through and through. He took you under his wing. Walter Fairfax spent more than enough time with his second born son, teaching him the ways of being a man.”
He couldn’t argue with that. His father had taught him well. So why did he feel as if neither parent had done their duty by him?
Kenric shook off the sadness enveloping him. “I want to speak to her. Alone.”
Gussalen shrugged. “If you must.” She stepped away from the bed and marched across the room.
He watched the servant slip out the door before he turned back toward the bed. He drew a chair over and sat in it, his hands in his lap as he studied the woman lying there, a total stranger to him—as she had always been.
She’d become skin and bones since he last saw her. Always a slender woman, she now seemed no bigger round than a twig. Her sunken cheeks only emphasized the wrinkles about her eyes and mouth. A pang of pity trickled through him at her gaunt appearance. Once, Lady Juliana Fairfax had been a great beauty. Now, she’d faded into nothingness.
Kenric reached out to place a hand over hers. Her skin burned with fever. He wondered how long she had left.
Suddenly, her eyes flew open, the pale blue burning brightly. A brief smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Hope filled him that, though she had such little time left, they might reconcile the ill will between them.
“You came,” she rasped.
“Aye.” He did not reveal that he appeared at her bedside as an accident of fate.
“I thought . . .” She paused and swallowed, her eyes closing. Then they opened with determination to continue on. “I thought you . . . might not.”
“I would honor your request to attend you, Mother.”
Her lips pursed. Rarely had he addressed her, much less by that title.
“I am . . . glad . . . you came.”
Kenric gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “So I am.” Although he could not forget the years of neglect, he would sweep it aside and treasure these last few moments with her.
“Had to tell . . . you . . .” Her voice trailed off.
He sat patiently, knowing it took much effort for her to speak.
She sighed. “How much . . . I . . . hate you.”
He stilled at the words. Had he misheard her? Was the fever causing her to ramble?
Then he watched the smile touch her cracked lips. He’d seen that smile many times. When he tried to climb into her lap as she held Roland and she pushed him aside. When he stood watching her fuss over his twin and she would glance in his direction to make sure he saw he was left out. When she smoothed his brother’s hair and told him how much she loved him. She always wore a secret, triumphant smile as she punished her second born child with deliberation.
Her words now cut him to the bone. Kenric felt her imaginary knife twist in his heart in a final, fatal blow. He thought he’d gone beyond feeling such hurt, but it wounded him even more deeply now—because he finally realized that she’d done it with malice. Every time she’d fussed over Roland in his presence, it had been to hurt him on purpose.
Why?
She must have seen that question in his eyes.
“You are your father,” she rasped. “I . . . hated him. So I . . . hated you. I told him when he lay dying. How . . . I always . . . loathed him. He laughed.” She paused, her gaze now piercing. “I will not . . . have . . . the pleasure . . . of seeing you die.”
“So you summoned me to your deathbed to tell me how much you despise me,” Kenric said, his voice flat.
“Aye.” Her whispered word wounded him more than any physical blow ever had.
Kenric removed his hand from hers and stood. He wanted to rage at her as he looked down at the shriveled husk, but his sense of knightly vows would not allow him to disparage her. Without a word, he turned and hurried from the bedchamber.
As he closed the door behind him and stepped into the corridor, Kenric was dismayed to see Gussalen lurking there, waiting for him.
She cackled with glee. “So she was able to speak to you. And I know what she said, Kenric Fairfax. That she loathed you. Hated everything about you because you were the image of the husband who beat her and humiliated her. If she could, she would have tossed you from the wall walk the day you were born and watched your tiny bones shatter on the cobblestones below. Thank the Christ she had one perfect son who loved her and that she could love—for you could never be the child of her heart.”
He looked down at the servant. In a dispassionate tone, he said, “Go spew your venom elsewhere, Woman. I care not what you or my lady mother say. I came from a sense of knightly obligation. My heart is made of stone when it comes to Lady Juliana. She might have given birth to me, but I raised myself.”
Kenric turned and strode down the hallway, away from the solar.
*
Avelyn waited till Sela fell asleep. Her friend had tired easily on their journey from London, not used to being in the saddle for so many hours. The most strenuous thing Sela did was dance and she usually stopped after a song or two had played. Avelyn had allowed Sela to talk for a bit as they washed the dust of the road from their hands and face with the hot water that had arrived. Then she encouraged Sela to lie down and rest before they ventured down for the upcoming meal.
She needed to be with Kenric. She knew he had told her he would go alone to see his mother, but sh
e saw the look in his eyes. Kenric Fairfax might be the largest man she’d ever seen and a valiant knight, but he was a human with a heavy heart. Besides, he had shared things of his childhood with her that she was certain he’d never told anyone before.
Avelyn cared deeply for this man, more than anyone in the world. It wasn’t only the kisses they’d shared but some connection that linked them together. She wanted to be by his side and support him in such a time of sorrow. She tiptoed to the door, but Sela slept on. Avelyn slipped out and started down the corridor. She had no idea which chamber Lady Juliana might be in.
Before Avelyn could lightly rap on the first door she approached, it opened. A somber priest stepped out, a frown creasing his brow. By his countenance, she wondered if death had already occurred.
“’Tis a sad day, my lady,” he said to her, his brown eyes swimming in sorrow. “I have offered Lady Juliana extreme unction. Mayhap, you could go and sit with the lady as her time draws to a close.”
“Certainly. Thank you, Father.”
He moved past her and headed down the dimly lit corridor.
Avelyn took a deep breath and entered the room. She saw Gussalen, the old servant they’d seen downstairs. Kenric had confirmed the woman’s identity. The sight of the retainer angered Avelyn, knowing what she did to Kenric when he was only a boy. The woman hovered over Lady Juliana, hunched as a crone.
Avelyn moved toward the bed on the far side of the room and watched Gussalen stroking her patient’s hand with affection.
“Ah, my lady. We have spent every day of your life together. You are like my own child.” Her voice cracked. “Even after all these years, I am sorry that you were forced to marry The Brute.”
The Brute?
“I did something awful, my sweet Juliana, but something I know you would have approved of. We were always of a like mind and so I never had need to tell you of my actions.”
Avelyn started to make her presence known, but she wondered about the confession this servant was about to make and decided to hold her tongue.