by Alexa Aston
Jessimond swung her sword. It met Nan’s and the clang of steel sounded. Her arms reverberated with the contact. She’d been reluctant to spar with her sister, due to her delicate condition, but Nan insisted.
“I’m always sick most of the morning during the first few months but as I enter my fourth month, it never fails. I get a burst of energy and feel as if I can conquer the world,” Nan had shared.
The way her sister moved gracefully now verified her words. With that reassurance, Jessimond had agreed to duel with Nan. Her advice to Jessimond had been to keep busy each day until Geoffrey and Merryn arrived. Consequently, Jessimond’s hours had been filled from mass shortly after dawn each morning until bedtime. She’d taken long, daily rides with Elysande and even helped her cousin tend to a lame horse in the Bexley stables. With Margery, Jessimond had worked in the gardens, baked bread, and made candles. Though Ancel’s three children were away fostering, she’d been able to spend many hours playing with Nan’s two little ones. Her niece was two and her nephew five. Both were adorable and inquisitive.
She did fall into bed at night exhausted from all of the day’s activities—but sleep took its time coming. Despite knowing it would bring her nothing but misery, Jessimond lay awake and thought about Marcus. She recalled the first time she’d caught sight of him that day in June. Remembered watching him duel with Rand and his few turns as an actor when called upon. She could see him unloading the wagons and pitching the mummers’ tents at each stop, and thought back to how he helped her carry the dishes to a stream to be cleaned.
And their kisses. Those many, drugging kisses.
Jessimond tried her best to remember each occasion they kissed. The sensations she’d felt. The feel of his sleek muscles bunching beneath her fingers. His scent. His taste. Over and over, she relived their time alone in the cottage, when she’d given everything of herself to him. Coming together, their bodies as one. Love for him would surge through her at these memories.
Then the tears would begin to flow. She knew it was wrong to wallow in such memories but she couldn’t help herself. Marcus had come so suddenly in her life and then left it even more abruptly. She would do everything in her power to remember everything about him and never forget.
For memories would be all she would ever possess of him. He belonged to another now. It mattered not—Jessimond would love Marcus de Harte for the remainder of her life.
The sound of a sword slicing through the air had her dance back just in time.
“That was much too close,” Nan admonished, giving her a long look. “Don’t let your mind wander.”
“I’m sorry.”
They continued for several minutes until Nan called a halt to their swordplay.
“I’m getting hungry,” she explained.
“You stay hungry,” Jessimond teased.
Nan laughed. “I’m simply making up for the weeks I couldn’t keep my morning meal down.” She rubbed her belly with both hands. “I need to make sure this little one grows strong. Who knows? I might even carry two babes inside me, like Alys and Ancel. That would certainly surprise Tristan.”
Her sister linked an arm through Jessimond’s. “Let’s go inside.”
Suddenly, Margery appeared. “They’re here. The de Montfort banner has been sighted from the wall walk.” She frowned at them and Jessimond was aware of how disheveled they appeared after their bout. “You have time to change your clothing if you hurry.”
Jessimond and Nan rushed into the keep and parted, each seeking their separate bedchamber. Jessimond stripped off her tunic and pants and washed her hands and face before donning one of the smocks and cotehardies Margery had loaned her. She went into the corridor and saw Nan emerging from her room, closing the door behind her.
“Are the children still napping?” she asked.
“Aye. Like sleeping angels. Let’s go greet Mother and Father.”
They joined Margery, who now stood with Ancel, at the entrance to the keep. Michael, Elysande, and Tristan had joined them. Jessimond heard the sound of hoof beats growing closer and then spied her family’s banner as the riders entered the inner bailey. Her throat grew thick with emotion as she caught sight of her parents. Love blossomed in her heart for these two wonderful people who had taken in a babe of unknown origin and loved her as one of their own. She broke away from the group and ran toward them.
Her father pulled on his reins and leaped from his horse. He gathered her up and Jessimond relaxed for the first time since she’d arrived at Bexley. Being in Geoffrey de Montfort’s arms brought a sense of security. It was the beginning of her healing.
He released her. “I know it’s only been a few months, Jessimond, but I have missed you so much, my sweet girl.” He brushed a tender kiss against her brow. Jessimond felt truly treasured.
Her mother appeared and wrapped Jessimond in a tight embrace. No words were needed as they clung to one another.
Merryn finally relaxed her grip and looked at Jessimond. “You grow more beautiful every day. I hope you found what you were looking for on the road.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “I have much to share with you and Father. In private.”
Merryn nodded. “Let me greet the others. Then we will talk.”
After many hugs and kisses, Jessimond saw her mother whisper something to Margery. Immediately, her sister-in-law said, “Why don’t you three go to the solar for a more private reunion? I know Jessimond must have so much to tell you about her travels.”
“We’ll return to the training yard for now,” Ancel said, leading Michael and Tristan away.
The three women escorted them upstairs as they discussed the child Nan carried. As Jessimond thought, Nan said the babe would be due come February.
“I’ll have food and drink brought to you,” Margery said. “You must be famished after your journey.”
“Wine is all we need now, Margery,” Merryn told her.
Margery poured it for them. “We will see you later.”
Merryn smiled at her daughter. “I cannot wait to see my grandchildren.”
“They’ll be awake and ready to talk your ear off,” Nan promised.
Once the others left, Merryn seated herself and turned to Jessimond. She didn’t speak but gave her an encouraging look.
Jessimond said, “I am torn. I have two important things to tell you. It’s hard to know where to begin.” She took a seat opposite her mother and her father remained standing. Geoffrey always had trouble sitting for long spells, especially after riding a great distance.
“Open your heart,” he told Jessimond. “Speak of what matters most, first.”
“Very well.” She clasped her hands tightly in her lap. “I fell in love this summer.” She paused to let her words sink in.
Neither of her parents said anything. They merely waited for her to continue.
“I am sure you can tell by my face that it did not end well. Nan and the others have done their best to help me keep my mind off Marcus, but he’s all I want—and someone I can never have.”
The tears came freely now. Her father knelt beside her and took her hands, warming them in his. She hadn’t realized how cold they were until he did so. Her mother moved to sit next to her. Her physical presence comforted Jessimond as Merryn’s arms went about her. They made no demands upon her. Slowly, Jessimond’s sobs subsided and she gained control of her emotions.
Merryn stroked her hair. “Tell us about Marcus. Where you met.”
Jessimond took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He was a knight traveling with the mummers this season,” she began.
Gradually, her story—their story—unfolded. Jessimond told her parents as much as they needed to know, though she left out her one coupling with Marcus. Some things should remain forever in her heart.
Once she finished, she looked at them expectantly. “I love him. I will always love him. Though he is bound to another, I feel as if our souls are linked as one. I may or may not wed one day. Who knows what my
future may bring? But I will hold this love in my heart for Marcus until my dying day.”
“I understand, Jessimond,” her mother said. “When your father was gone for those seven years, my feelings for him never lessened. I knew the king would marry me off at some point but my heart told me I would always belong to Geoffrey de Montfort, both in this life and in any to come.”
Her father squeezed Jessimond’s hands. “’Twas the same for me.” He gave his wife a long look that spoke of his devotion to her even now. “Loving your mother was what got me through my lonely years of imprisonment. When I was finally released and able to come back to her, we knew in an instant that the love still ran deep between us.”
Geoffrey paused. “Those first weeks together were hard. Far from perfect. We had grown to be very different people in those years apart. But love for one another was entrenched in our cores.” He kissed her cheek. “So we understand how strong your feelings run for this nobleman.”
Merryn added, “You know you always have a home with us, Jessimond. If you choose not to wed, we will understand. If you decide to marry, though, we hope you will do your best to make you and your husband happy.” She stroked Jessimond’s hair again. “You are such a nurturing soul, my dearest one. I do hope one day you will be able to find room in your heart for another man. To wed him and give him children.”
“That is far in my future, Mother.” Jessimond paused. “There is more. Much more. I also discovered where I came from this summer,” she confided.
Merryn’s sharp intake of breath gave Jessimond pause. Geoffrey’s grip on her hands tightened.
“Mayhap this isn’t something you wish to hear.”
“Nay,” Merryn assured her. “We were curious in the beginning. Looked high and low to see if anyone would claim you.”
“And secretly prayed that no one would step forward,” Geoffrey added. “It would have killed all of us—Nan, in particular—if someone had taken you from us. You became a part of our family from the start.”
“Tell us how this came about,” Merryn urged.
“It happened while I was singing.” Seeing her parents’ astonished faces, she realized they knew nothing of her life with the mummers’ troupe these past few months.
“Besides sewing and cooking, I joined the Vawdrys’ troubadour, Bartholomew, before each play. We performed a half-dozen songs for the crowd.”
“You’ve always been shy about your singing, though you have a lovely voice,” Merryn said. “I’ve always enjoyed when you and Beatrice have sung for us, especially at Christmastime.”
“I’ve learned a great deal about myself,” Jessimond said. “Grown in confidence. I’m not who I was when I left Kinwick in June.”
“Go on,” Geoffrey encouraged.
Jessimond explained about the man who’d stared at her and how the knight approached her after her performance, questioning her and telling her he’d return with his liege lord to hear her sing.
“They did and Lord Gregory, who is the Baron of Netherfield, revealed to me the story buried in his past. Of how he’d been betrothed to one woman and had fallen in love with another.”
She saw in her mother’s eyes that Merryn didn’t miss the fact that history had repeated itself.
“Lord Gregory told of entrusting Sir Rodric, the knight who first approached me, and charging him to bring my mother and me to her family’s home.”
“Did you learn her name?” Geoffrey asked.
“Celia. Lady Celia Achard. She was weakened from childbirth and died on the journey to her home. Sir Rodric was familiar with you and mother. He’d met you both at court previously and respected you. He decided it was better to leave me on Kinwick lands and give me a chance at a good life, rather than take me to my mother’s home and have her family give away her bastard child.”
Jessimond sighed. “I knew for certain I was this child when Sir Rodric told of the amethyst brooch he’d left with me, hoping something that valuable would convince a tenant of Kinwick to take me in.”
“Little knowing Nan and I would find you and bring you to the castle,” Geoffrey noted.
“Aye. Lord Gregory verified that he’d given the brooch to my mother because it matched her amethyst-colored eyes. He told me I look exactly as Celia did. That was how he and Sir Rodric recognized me in the first place.”
Jessimond finally took a long drink from her goblet. “I told them very little about myself. They knew I’d been adopted by a family at Kinwick but not which one. I didn’t explain to them why I traveled with the mummers’ troupe. Lord Gregory did invite me to visit him at Netherfield if I ever felt comfortable doing so.”
“What would his lady wife say to the arrival of her husband’s lovechild after so many years?” Merryn asked.
“She died years ago. The baron told his son and two daughters about me after she was gone. They’ve encouraged him to seek me out.”
Her father gazed lovingly at her and asked, “Would you like to visit this birth father, Jessimond? Meet your half-siblings?”
She shrugged. “I hadn’t thought I would. I was reluctant to even tell you and Mother about this encounter and what I’d learned.”
“Why?” they both asked at the same time.
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” she admitted. “I thought you might think I loved you less for seeking them out.”
“Nay,” Geoffrey said vehemently. “Family is important. If this man and his children desire to know you, you should give them every chance to do so. All of your lives will be richer for coming together.”
He lifted her hands and kissed them tenderly. “You will always be ours, Jessimond. You will forever be a de Montfort. But if you wish to know these blood relatives, I encourage you to visit them.” He smiled at her fondly. “A heart has a great capacity for love. I know yours has room for us and this new family, as well.”
“Thank you,” Jessimond said, overcome with emotion.
“You don’t have to decide now,” Merryn said. “Think on it.”
“I don’t have to, Mother.” She looked at them hopefully. “Could we call at Netherfield on our way home to Kinwick?”
“Consider it done,” Geoffrey said.
Chapter 24
Jessimond tried to quell her nerves as they drew closer to the cutoff point to Netherfield. Ancel had been familiar with where the estate lay and had given them good directions. Fortunately, their party would pass fairly near Netherfield on their way home to Kinwick since the baron’s land sat a few leagues from the road they now traveled. Her father had told Jessimond at any point if she decided to abstain from visiting Gregory de Challon to let him know. They would continue home and never speak of it again.
Geoffrey turned his mount from where he led the escort party and approached Jessimond and her mother. They rode in the center of the ten knights escorting them. Two others had been left behind with Peter and Agatha, who would travel by cart and go straightaway to Kinwick.
“Have you changed your mind?” he asked, those familiar, patient eyes searching her own.
“Nay, Father,” she replied. “It may not work out to my liking. We may leave after only a few minutes. But I don’t want to hold on to a lifetime of regret simply because I didn’t have the courage to face this situation.”
His smile was reward enough. “That’s my girl.” He spurred on his horse and returned to the front of their group.
Jessimond wondered what kind of reception they would receive when they reached Netherfield unannounced. Since she hadn’t known if they would stop or not, no messenger had been sent ahead to inform the baron of their impending stop. Even now, she noticed that her father did not motion for a rider to peel away from the group. Their visit truly would be one of surprise.
Would it be one of acceptance?
She remembered how Peter had encouraged her not to sit in judgment of Gregory de Challon and his actions from almost a score ago. Since she now found herself in similar circumstances to Celia Achard, Jessimond was muc
h more understanding toward her birth parents. Celia had loved Gregory, despite the fact that he was betrothed and sent her away after she’d given birth to his child. Jessimond still loved Marcus, even though he was husband to another woman. He would hold her heart even beyond the grave.
She was certain he felt the same about her.
Circumstances, though, had torn them apart. Marcus would make a new life with Ailith and become father to her young daughter, Livia. Jessimond would also need to move forward and forge her own way. Taking this step by going to Netherfield was the first of many in a life without Marcus. She was glad she had the support of her parents in this unusual endeavor. If she was welcomed by Lord Gregory, she would remain at Netherfield for a visit. If the nobleman no longer wished to know her because of the harsh way they’d parted, she would return to Kinwick without regret, knowing she had given Lord Gregory the opportunity to learn more about her.
They arrived at the locked gates and their party waited. Merryn reached out and touched Jessimond’s shoulder. She gave her mother a tight smile, trying to keep a firm rein on her emotions as the gatekeeper admitted them to the castle grounds. They trotted through the baileys as workers paused and openly studied them, interested in the new arrivals. Before they reached the keep, she spied Lord Gregory as he hurried toward them.
From the look of it, the baron came straight from the training yard, where he must have been hard at work with his soldiers. His dark blond hair was damp with sweat and his face red from exertion. He still carried a sword in his hand.
Her mother said, “He doesn’t look anything like you. Are you sure—”
“I am.” Jessimond slipped from her horse and went to meet the nobleman.
Lord Gregory halted in his tracks. He looked from her to Geoffrey de Montfort and back.
“You had Lord Geoffrey escort you here?” he asked in surprise. Then he threw his arms about her. “I am so glad you came, Jessimond.” He held her to him a long moment and then pulled away.
Still gripping her shoulders, he said, “I didn’t think you would ever come. You seemed so adamant when I last saw you. I never thought I would lay eyes upon you again.”