by Alexa Aston
Tonight, his longings would become reality.
Exiting the bedchamber, he found three very imposing men awaiting him in the corridor. Jessimond’s three brothers all were tall and broad-shouldered. Ancel, Earl of Mauntell, was the eldest male. Hal, captain of Kinwick’s guard, was the middle son. Edward, Baron of Shallowheart, was the youngest and closest male to Jessimond in age.
“Father would like a word with you,” Ancel said. His tone let Marcus know this was more an order than a request.
He followed the three men downstairs, remembering that a bevy of women had taken over the solar to help prepare Jessimond for the nuptial mass. They led him into the great hall, where he saw Geoffrey de Montfort standing near the fire. With him, he recognized Nan’s husband, Tristan, Earl of Leventhorpe, and Alys’ husband, Kit, Baron of Brentley. Marcus realized this group composed all of the husbands that were de Montforts or had married one.
“Welcome, Marcus,” Geoffrey greeted him as the four men joined the ranks of those standing with him. The earl handed Marcus a wine goblet and then passed one to each nobleman gathered in their circle.
“We’ve brought you here to toast you and Jessimond,” Geoffrey continued.
“And to recognize the remarkable women in this family,” Kit said. He gestured to Tristan. “Both Tristan and I feel blessed to have married into such a strong, loving family.”
“One of very strong-willed women,” Tristan added, and they all chuckled.
“We are fortunate that the women we’ve brought into the de Montfort family have also been resolute,” Ancel said.
“Yet, they are tenderhearted and faithful, as well,” Edward said.
“And every man standing here, be they de Montforts by blood or through marriage, have learned that love is the key to everything,” Hal said. “We are richer men for allowing the love in our hearts to guide us, no matter what we do or where we go.”
Geoffrey raised his pewter cup. “Here’s to Jessimond and Marcus—and to every couple represented here, man and woman alike—especially my dearest Merryn, the woman who has believed in me and showered me with love for decades. May we continue to live long and love well with our wives ever by our sides and forever in our hearts.
“To love!” Geoffrey declared.
“To love!” every man echoed.
Marcus swallowed the sweet, rich wine, enjoying the warmth it brought. He lowered the cup and said, “My family was not a loving one and I had been taught from an early age to beware of love. I am beyond grateful that Jessimond came into my life and opened my eyes to the truth. I know now that a life filled with love is an abundant one. Loving Jess has fulfilled me in ways I never knew existed. From now on, all de Harte sons and daughters will be raised in love and know how powerful a force it can be.
“To love!” Marcus proclaimed again and his new brothers-in-arms cheered.
*
Jessimond nursed Margaret while Nan sat beside her with her seven-month-old babe, doing the same. Alys and her cousin, Avelyn, continued intricately braiding Jessimond’s hair in preparation for the upcoming nuptial mass.
“If you’d like, you can feed Margaret after the feast and then let Tristan and me keep her overnight. I know you and Marcus would enjoy time alone after spending the last few days with so many relatives. If she gets hungry during the night, I will nurse her.”
Jessimond gave her sister a grateful smile. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Nan. So will Marcus.”
She had tried not to think of Marcus during the year they were apart. Many days, she had worked until the brink of exhaustion, hoping her sleep would be dreamless. Yet, even after giving birth to Marcus’ child and knowing he was wed to another woman, Jessimond had daydreamed about her lover’s touch. She eagerly awaited tonight, the first in which they would sleep side by side as man and wife.
Chuckling, she thought, mayhap, not much sleep would occur.
Margaret finished feeding and Jessimond burped the babe before handing her to Agatha. She knew from her friend that Marcus had once more extended his offer for Peter and Agatha to come live at Hartefield, with Peter serving either as a soldier or blacksmith. The couple was still considering what they would do. Selfishly, Jessimond hoped they would choose Harte Castle so their first babes could grow up together, playing as she and Peter had so long ago.
Knowing it was time to dress, she stood as Elinor and Rosalyne brought the layers of clothing she’d sewn and helped her into them. She’d chosen to wear shades of blue interspersed with gold. As she smoothed the folds of the rich silk, Elysande handed her a mirror to admire herself. The image reflected spoke of a woman deeply in love. One eager to start the rest of her life with the man she loved by her side.
Beatrice bent and pinned Jessimond’s amethyst brooch to her breast as a finishing touch and then suggested, “Let’s give Jessimond a few moments alone to reflect.” Beatrice herded the group of women from the solar.
Only her mother remained behind. As Jessimond went to her, they clasped hands. Merryn’s eyes were bright with unshed tears.
“The happiest day of my life was when Geoffrey returned to me after being gone for so many years,” Merryn began. “The second happiest was when he and Nan brought you home to us. You were the sweetest of all of my babes.” She paused. “And today is the third happiest day I have experienced, for the last of my children will unite in marriage with the man she loves.”
Merryn kissed both her cheeks. Jessimond repeated the gesture.
“I can’t thank you and Father enough for taking me in,” she began. “You changed the course of my life. You raised me as one of your own, with no difference between me and my siblings. You and Father are good people, Mother. The absolute best. I am proud of you and all my brothers and sisters. I was raised in love. I will continue to live in love and hope I can be half the mother you are to my own children.”
They embraced as a quick knock sounded. Geoffrey de Montfort entered the solar. He held her to him for a long moment.
“The last of our children to leave the nest,” he said. “You have added great riches to our lives, Jessimond. I thank the Virgin and Christ Almighty for bringing Marcus back to you—and Margaret.” He pressed a kiss upon her brow. “You look so very beautiful, Daughter. Are you ready?”
“I am, Father.”
The trio left the solar and headed to Kinwick’s chapel. Flowers had been strewn along the path and a band of musicians played as they made their way to the entrance, where Marcus and the priest stood awaiting them. She spied Uncle Gregory standing with Lina and Byrom on one side and Lora and Richmond on the other. He blew her a kiss as she passed. She and Geoffrey arrived at the steps to the chapel. Jessimond took a sleeping Margaret from Agatha’s arms and kissed the babe. She allowed Marcus to do the same and then handed their child to Merryn.
Marcus threaded his fingers through hers and the ceremony began. As they spoke their vows, Jessimond marveled at everything that had occurred during the last year. She’d joined the mummers’ troupe and made countless friends during her travels. Learned the story of her birth and grown close to her birth father and his children. Fallen deeply in love with Marcus and brought little Margaret into the world. Now, here she stood, uniting with this man in holy matrimony. From an unclaimed orphan to a noblewoman marrying for love, Jessimond knew she’d already lived a wonderful life.
And the best was yet to come.
Epilogue
April, 1406
Jessimond gazed at the portrait hanging on the wall. Rosalyne had painted it as a wedding gift half a score ago. Jessimond smiled at the painting of her and Marcus. She decided it was time to ask her sister-in-law to do another one. Marcus had been handsome ten years ago but now that a tinge of silver touched his temples, she thought him even more attractive.
At that moment, her husband raced through the door and across the room. He fell to his knees and took Jessimond’s hand.
“I’m not too late?” he asked.
“Nay
, Husband. I’d say you were right on time.” She bit her lip as another labor pain hit.
He brushed the damp hair from her brow and cradled her cheek with his palm. The look of love in his eyes still caused Jessimond’s heart to flutter, even after a decade together.
“My lord!” the new midwife admonished. “You mustn’t be in here. Lady Jessimond will give birth at any moment.”
A slow smile turned the corners of his mouth up and he said, “I know. I look forward to that moment.”
“But . . . but . . . you cannot be present,” the midwife sputtered. “’Tis not the done way. I will make sure the babe is cleaned up and the baroness presentable. Only then can you see her and the child.”
Marcus leaned in and brushed his lips against Jessimond’s, bringing her warmth and comfort. “My wife is always presentable. In fact, she glows with eternal beauty as each new babe is born. And I assist in those births. I missed out the first time with Margaret. I swore I would never do so again.” He grinned as he gazed at her. “So far, I have seen another daughter and two sons come into this world.”
Jessimond heard the midwife’s gasp. “It’s true. Lord Marcus always attends the births of our children. He has massaged my belly to urge them to come forth and even caught one—nay, two—as they made their appearance in the world. He will stay.”
“I will stay,” reaffirmed Marcus, his eyes never leaving hers.
She sucked in a quick breath and winced, squeezing his hand tightly as her toes curled into the mattress.
“Is the pain bad, my love?”
“No worse than usual.” Jessimond gasped again. “Oh, this one wants out quickly, I fear.” She cried out as the contractions increased. At the same time, the unbearable urge to push overwhelmed her.
“’Tis time,” she managed to say.
Her husband lifted the bedclothes and then met her eyes. “I see the head crowning. Push, Jess. Now. As hard as you can,” he commanded.
She bore down, concentrating on nothing but that sensation. Vaguely, she heard words of encouragement coming from both Marcus and the midwife as she focused all of her energy into bringing this new life into the world. Gritting her teeth as another labor pain came, she rode the wave of agony and then forced the child from her with one last, lengthy push.
Falling back against the pillows, she heard Marcus’ delighted laugh. “We have another son!” he proclaimed.
Jessimond slowed her breathing, relieved the birth had ended. She was marginally aware of the bustling about as the babe was cleaned and bundled and the afterbirth expelled. A servant wiped Jessimond’s face with a clean cloth and helped her to sit up as she was dressed in a new smock and the bedclothes were changed. Sinking back into the pillows behind her, Marcus suddenly loomed over her, their newborn cuddled against his chest. He lowered the babe to her and Jessimond accepted him.
Peering into the face of the newest de Harte, she smiled. “He’s perfect,” she declared.
Her husband slid in beside her, his arm going around her, and they admired the latest addition to their ever-growing family, as those who had assisted with the birth left the room. The welcomed silence would not last but she reveled in it all the same. She had a new child to love in her arms and a husband who was her very life beside her.
Their son began to mewl softly and then his cries increased in volume. Jessimond guided him to her breast and he latched on, greedily sucking the nourishing milk from her.
“We have been blessed beyond measure,” Marcus finally said as the babe stopped nursing. He offered his son a finger. Immediately, the newborn wrapped his own fingers around it.
“He’s a strong one,” Marcus noted. “He’ll need a name to reflect that strength. Have you thought of what you might wish to call him, Wife? If not, I have a suggestion.”
Eager to hear what name he was considering after all the ones they’d mentioned as a possibility, Jessimond said, “Share your thoughts with me, Husband.”
Marcus said, “I want to call him Geoffrey. After your father. He was the strongest and yet most vulnerable man I have known. I would be proud for our son to bear his grandfather’s name and always carry a part of the de Montfort legacy within him.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. Geoffrey de Montfort had recently been laid to rest, living three score and ten years. His death had been sudden and Jessimond was too heavy with child to make the journey to Kinwick for his burial.
“Father would have been proud to know we named our boy after him.”
Marcus brushed a tender kiss against her temple. “He knows, Jess. Geoffrey de Montfort is watching over us all from Heaven above. One life might have been extinguished but another has come to light and will bring us great joy in the years to come.”
Jessimond de Harte believed her husband’s words rang with truth. She would love this new Geoffrey as she had the children who’d come before him and the others that would follow, just as she’d loved her father. She brought the now-sleeping babe close and kissed him and then nestled the littlest de Harte against her side as she wrapped her arms around Marcus.
This man, the greatest love of all, would be by her side—now and until the end of time.
Jessimond kissed him and knew in that moment that life was good. Oh, so very good.
The End
About the Author
Award-winning and international bestselling author Alexa Aston’s historical romances use history as a backdrop to place her characters in extraordinary circumstances, where their intense desire for one another grows into the treasured gift of love.
She is the author of Medieval and Regency romance, including The Knights of Honor, The King’s Cousins, The St Clairs, and The de Wolfes of Esterley Castle.
A native Texan, Alexa lives with her husband in a Dallas suburb, where she eats her fair share of dark chocolate and plots out stories while she walks every morning. She enjoys reading, Netflix binge-watching, and can’t get enough of Survivor, The Crown, or Game of Thrones.
Website
Newsletter Sign-Up
Facebook
Twitter
Email
BookBub
Amazon Author Page
Goodreads Author Page