by Alexa Aston
“I’m sorry. Meeting you—and hearing what you had to say—shocked me. It took time for me to digest what you revealed.”
The baron kissed her cheek and released her. He turned to her father, who had dismounted, as had all of their party. Her mother had come to stand next to her husband.
Jessimond took a deep breath and said, “Lord Gregory, I would like to introduce you to my parents, Lord Geoffrey and Lady Merryn de Montfort.”
The baron’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened. “By the Christ! The earl and countess are the ones who took you in?”
Tears began to stream down his face as he moved toward her parents, his hand thrust out. Geoffrey took it and then Lord Gregory accepted Merryn’s offered hand and kissed it.
“I cannot begin to tell you how grateful I am to you for raising Jessimond.” His voice cracked as he said her name. “I don’t know what she’s told you but my prayers were answered far beyond what I asked of the Holy Father.”
“It was a privilege to add Jessimond into our fold,” Merryn said. “She is the youngest of our six children.”
“And the one with the sweetest temperament,” Geoffrey added.
Lord Gregory looked at them hesitantly. “Would you . . . would you like to come inside the keep? We could . . . talk for a while.”
Jessimond spoke up. “We would like to stay a bit, my lord. At least, I was hoping that I might visit for a few weeks if you are receptive to the idea.”
Relief—then joy—broke out across de Challon’s face. “I would be honored.” He looked to Geoffrey. “Mayhap you and Lady Merryn would care to stay a few days before leaving Jessimond in my care? I want to prove myself worthy to you.” His face darkened. “I was immature and self-absorbed in my youth. I know now I should have cared better for Celia and for Jessimond. That experience changed me for the better.”
“We would be delighted to accept your hospitality,” Geoffrey said.
Lord Gregory had the de Montfort men take their horses to his stables and told them they would be welcomed at the evening meal and could stay in his soldiers’ quarters during their visit. He also offered them the use of his training yard and expressed his hope that they would spar with the Netherfield soldiers. Then he led the others into the keep.
After speaking to a servant, he led them upstairs to the solar.
“Food and drink will arrive shortly. I thought it best to take our evening meal together in private.”
He ushered them inside and continued. “My son, Byrom, is not home at present. He is fostering in the north. I will send word to him that his half-sister has visited Netherfield.” He looked at Jessimond. “I hope that you will agree to come back another time so that you might meet Byrom.”
“How old is your boy?” Merryn asked.
“Ten and six, my lady. He is already taller than I am and wields a sword with confidence.”
“You mentioned that I also have two half-sisters,” Jessimond said.
“Aye. They will be here momentarily.”
As the baron finished speaking, the door to the solar swung open.
“Where is she?” a young girl cried as she raced into the room, followed by a more sedate one near Jessimond’s age.
Both stopped, the younger one gawking at Jessimond as the older offered her a shy smile.
Lord Gregory said, “This is my daughter, Lora, who is ten and eight, and my youngest child, Lina.”
“I’m ten and two,” Lina said. “And very curious about you. Father didn’t think you would come to visit.” She studied Jessimond with interest. “You are quite beautiful but you don’t look like a de Challon at all. Are you certain this Jessimond is your daughter, Father?”
Jessimond noticed the indulgent smile the baron gave her as he said, “I am. Just as Byrom resembles me strongly, Jessimond is the image of Celia Achard. In fact, I called her by Celia’s name when I first laid eyes upon her. The likeness was that strong. I have no doubt she is our child.” He turned to Jessimond. “When I first caught sight of you, it was like seeing your mother all over again after being parted from her by twenty years. And death,” he added quietly.
“My grandmother always said that Lora and I favor our mother. She’s also dead,” Lina said matter-of-factly.
Jessimond wondered about the raven hair both Lora and Lina possessed, and had guessed it came from their mother.
“Both my daughters take after Egelina in their looks and height,” Lord Gregory said. “Lora is reserved, though, while you can see Lina is more outgoing.”
“And what is Byrom like?” Jessimond asked.
“Byrom is wonderful,” proclaimed Lina. “The best brother there ever was.”
Lora stepped forward and dropped a curtsey to Jessimond’s parents, urging Lina to do the same. “I am sorry my sister burst into the room and we haven’t been properly introduced to one another. You know I am Lora de Challon and Lina is my younger sister. May I inquire who you might be?”
Jessimond stepped forward to make the introduction. “These are my parents, Lord Geoffrey and Lady Merryn de Montfort. They are the Earl and Countess of Kinwick.”
“Your parents?” Lina asked, her shock obvious. “Father said that you’d been left at Kinwick and that serfs must have taken you in.” She frowned. “So, why were you traveling with a mummers’ troupe if you are part of the nobility? Was it to escape your parents? Do they treat you less than their own children?”
Horrified by the girl’s indiscreet questions, Jessimond started to reply—but Lina looked to Merryn and boldly asked, “Is it hard loving someone who isn’t truly your child? Do you make Jessimond clean the keep and wait on your children like a servant?”
“Lina!” her father roared, his face darkening in anger.
The girl shrugged. “I’m merely curious, Father. I cannot imagine finding a babe and bringing it home, only to treat it like a family member.”
“That’s exactly who Jessimond is to us, Lina,” Merryn said firmly, her tone indicating she would tolerate no nonsense from the youngest de Challon. “From the moment Geoffrey and Nan brought Jessimond home, she became an integral part of our family. I can’t think of her as anything but a de Montfort. Sometimes, I think she is the most loved of all of our children because she is the youngest of six and no more came after her.”
Lina looked amazed hearing such a revelation. “Even though she didn’t grow in your belly, you really think of her as your own? You truly love her as much as one of your other children?”
“Aye,” Geoffrey said, his voice strong, brokering no doubt. “Jessimond is a de Montfort, through and through. I love Jessimond no less—and no more—than her other siblings. Merryn and I do love each of our children in different ways, though. Sometimes, one child needs more attention lavished upon them than another one, but our hearts have room to love them all.”
Jessimond finally spoke up. “I already have a family—but I came to Netherfield in order to have the opportunity to spend time with my birth father and my half-siblings. To get to know you. You may not ever love me but I hope we can at least become friends.”
“I would like that,” Lora said, her eyes brimming with tears. She reached and took Jessimond’s hand and squeezed it.
Not to be outdone, Lina latched on to the other one. “Would you like to see the keep, Jessimond?”
Before she could reply, three servants arrived with trays of food.
“Let’s enjoy our meal first,” Lord Gregory recommended. “Jessimond and her parents have been traveling and could use some food and drink.”
As they sat, her half-sisters on each side of her, Jessimond hoped that these girls would accept her as readily as all the de Montforts had done on that day almost a score ago.
Chapter 25
Jessimond watched Lora twirl about, a sweet smile on her face.
“It’s lovely, Jessimond. I can’t imagine anyone having a finer bridal gown. You have crafted a work of art with your needle,” Lora exclaimed.
�
��I was happy to do this for you,” she said. “Hopefully, Richmond will like it as much as you do.”
Her half-sister glowed as she smoothed the blue silk skirts. “I had the same thought,” she confided. “I’m very happy that the betrothal contracts were signed while you are at Netherfield and that you can attend the nuptial mass.”
Jessimond had enjoyed the past three weeks at Netherfield, though she’d been very tired of late. She supposed all that time on the road with the mummers had finally caught up to her. Her appetite, too, had suffered since she’d arrived. The rich sauces and heavy spicing had not been to her liking. She longed for what she’d grown accustomed to, the simpler fare she’d prepared for the mummers.
“Have you decided about the trim we discussed earlier?” she asked.
“I think you should sew it on,” Lina voiced. “On both the hem and the sleeves.”
Jessimond hid a smile. Lina had to be the most opinionated person she’d ever met. When it was her time to wed, Jessimond only hoped Lina’s husband would be able to handle his bride.
“I did like it,” Lora said, hesitating. “Would you have time to add it to the hem, Jessimond?”
“Of course,” she assured Lora. “The wedding is not for another two days. I can easily finish up tomorrow.”
A servant entered the bedchamber. “My lady, Lord Gregory would like to speak to you in the solar.”
“Thank you,” Jessimond told her. To Lina, she said, “Help your sister remove her gown. Spread it across the chest so as not to wrinkle it. I’ll claim it in the morning.”
She hurried from the girls’ chamber and went to her own. That queasiness had struck her again. Jessimond did not want to be ill for the wedding nor did she want to bring sickness to Lora. She reached her chamber and rushed inside, closing the door, and then moved to the basin. No sooner had she leaned over it than what little she’d eaten earlier came back up. She rinsed the awful taste from her mouth and wiped it with a cloth. Touching her forehead, she felt no sign of fever. She wished she could shake off the dull nausea.
Not wanting to keep Lord Gregory waiting, she made her way to the solar and knocked. He bid her to enter and Jessimond joined him at the table where he sat. She noticed he’d set up the chessboard again. It had become their habit to play a game or two while they conversed.
“How was your day?” he asked.
“Very good. Lora and I visited a few of the tenants and took them some food. I also worked on her wedding gown. It’s almost complete except for a trim along the hem that I’ll add.”
“Lora told me how pleased she is with it. It was very good of you to take on such an elaborate project.”
Jessimond moved her first piece along the board. “I enjoy sewing and am happy to contribute to such a happy occasion.”
The baron moved his chess piece. “Richmond will be a good match for Lora. He’s an earnest, steady fellow. I think they’ll suit one another well.” He paused. “My offer still stands. If you wish for me to look for a husband for you, I am willing to do so.”
“Nay, but I thank you,” she said politely, once more shutting the door to that topic.
Jessimond had explained previously that she wasn’t betrothed and that none of the de Montfort children had been. Lora and Lina had thought her mad when she told them that de Montforts all married for love. The two sisters had argued back and forth about it. Jessimond had caught her birth father staring at her wistfully and knew that he understand exactly what she spoke of. He had loved at one time in his life but had been unable to wed that love. She neglected to tell him that she, too, loved another though she could never become his wife.
As they played their game, Jessimond asked questions about Celia Achard. Her curiosity about her birth mother only grew the more she found out about Celia.
“Did you ever meet any of her family? What were they like?”
Lord Gregory sighed. “Her father, Lord Americ, was Baron of Sturnwick. He was an adviser to the king and did not make much time for Celia. He brought her to court to find her a husband but then neglected to do so. Celia was left on her own most of the day. With her sweet disposition and beauty, she was envied—and ignored—by most of the ladies at court.”
“And her mother?”
“The baroness died when Celia’s younger brother was born. She rarely spoke of her mother. From what little she said, her two brothers had little to do with her when they were home from fostering.”
Jessimond thought how different her life had been and said a swift prayer to the Virgin, thanking Her for the large, loving family she’d been raised in. “She must have been so lonely.”
“Aye, she was.” Lord Gregory frowned. “Seeing that loneliness drew me to her. I wanted to comfort her.”
“You did love her, didn’t you, my lord?”
He took a long pull from his wine goblet. “I did. I didn’t want to. I even tried to stay away from her. In the end, I couldn’t.”
Jessimond recalled how Marcus had also avoided her, only to be drawn back to her. Her throat thickened with emotion.
“How did you learn of her death?” she finally asked.
“Through Sir Rodric. You’ve met him. He was the knight I designated to escort Celia and you to her home. He’s a man I have always trusted, from the time I was a young boy. Sir Rodric continued on his journey in order to take Celia’s body home. That way, she could be buried next to her mother.”
“Have you ever visited her grave?”
“Nay. It wasn’t my place to do so. I was not her husband. I was Egelina’s. After Sir Rodric informed me of Celia’s tragic passing, it shook me to my core. I vowed to God Himself that from that moment on, I would be a better man than the one I’d been up until then. I swore to be faithful to my wife and be a good father to my children.” He gave her a steady look. “All of them. I’m grateful that we have finally found one another, Jessimond.”
“I have enjoyed getting to know you, my lord.”
The baron winced. “I hate how formal that sounds. I realize that Geoffrey de Montfort raised you and he alone should be called Father by you. I only wish you could call me something other than Lord Gregory.”
Jessimond thought a moment. “What if I refer to you as Uncle Gregory?” she mused. “’Tis not as formal and still conveys a family relationship.”
He smiled. “I would very much like that, Jessimond.”
They continued their game in silence until its completion. As usual, she emerged as the victor. When they’d first starting playing against one another, she thought he allowed her to win but he shared that he’d never been much of a chess player. His smile each time she defeated him told Jessimond of his pride in her.
“I think I will retire for the evening,” she said. “The hour grows late. I find I am tired.”
“Thank you for spending this past hour with me, Jessimond. I look forward to our conversations. Once Lora is wed and leaves Netherfield, mayhap you will have more time available for me.”
She laughed. “I fear Lina will demand even more of it with her sister gone.” Standing, she brushed a kiss on his cheek for the first time. “Good night, Uncle Gregory.”
“Good night,” he echoed.
Jessimond turned as he brushed a tear away and left the solar.
*
Jessimond went to help Lora dress for her wedding. She found her half-sister pacing the bedchamber she shared with Lina.
“What’s wrong?” Jessimond asked as she closed the door.
“I don’t know what to do tonight,” Lora moaned, wringing her hands. “I was so young when Mother died so she never told me anything. I’m so frightened.” She threw herself onto the bed and buried her face.
Lina, sitting in a nearby chair, shrugged. “The servants say it hurts.”
Lora’s head popped up. “It hurts? Why did they tell you and not me?”
“Because I asked about it,” Lina retorted. “I saw a groom and a serving wench coupling in the stables. They were both m
oaning and then she shrieked something awful. I couldn’t very well ask them so I spoke to several of our servants.”
“When was this?” Lora asked, her eyes welling with tears. “You never told me about the incident.”
“I was seven or eight, I think.” Lina began pacing the room now. “They all repeated the same thing. That it’s a duty you must do, whether you like it or not. If you lie still and keep quiet, it passes quickly.”
Jessimond decided to take the situation in hand. “Both of you. Sit. Now.”
Lina returned to the chair. Lora pushed herself up and glanced hopefully at Jessimond, who took a seat next to her on the bed.
“I will tell you what I know,” she confided, and proceeded to describe love play as Merryn had, adding in a little of her own experience from her single coupling with Marcus.
“It sounds like it hurts only a little,” Lora said. “I hate pain, though.”
“It won’t last but a moment,” Jessimond assured her. “Love play will bring a couple closer together. Remember, you and Richmond will act in unison in all matters once you are married.”
Lora bit her lip. “What . . . what if I don’t please him?” she whispered.
“You should be worried about him pleasing you,” Jessimond retorted.
For a moment, a shocked silence filled the room, and then Lora and Lina erupted in laughter.
Lora hugged her. “You are so different from all the women I know, Jessimond. I am proud to call you sister.”
Lina wiggled between them and also hugged Jessimond. “I call you sister, as well. And I want only you to sew my bridal gown when I wed. It will be even fancier than Lora’s. I think green. Or mayhap yellow. Father always says he likes me in yellow.”
“You have a few years to decide,” Jessimond said. “It’s time now to ready your sister for her special day.”
She brushed Lora’s hair until it shone and then braided it intricately, pinning it up and intertwining the braids as she did so. Lina handed her the crown of flowers the two of them had woven together yesterday afternoon and Jessimond placed it atop Lora’s head. She helped the bride step into her wedding finery and then surveyed her handiwork.