by Lynn Kurland
“Escaped early,” Rhys said, his tone garbled.
Tess watched John shoot her a look she didn’t have any trouble deciphering—he was about three seconds from coming undone—before he rose and turned slightly to face his father.
Tess wasn’t sure what was harder to watch: the look of absolute shock on Rhys’s face, or the tears that suddenly streamed down Gwen’s. Before John could even move, his mother had pushed aside her husband rushed forward to throw her arms around him. Rhys swore, then stepped forward and wrapped both of them in an embrace Tess wasn’t sure he would ever break. She looked away out of respect, but she had no trouble hearing the grief that all three of them indulged in.
It went on just as long as she’d suspected it might, ending only with Rhys pulling back and greeting John with loving words.
“You bloody fool,” he said hoarsely. “What in the bloody hell were you thinking?”
John took a deep breath. “I left word, but it was . . . diverted.”
“And you couldn’t have found another of those . . . those things to use to come home?” Rhys demanded. “You didn’t look?”
“I did look, Father,” John said patiently. “Things went awry.”
“I don’t doubt that, but why you couldn’t have found another way to leave that accursed place behind I surely don’t—”
“Father,” John said in a low voice that was nonetheless full of warning.
Rhys seemed to realize suddenly that he wasn’t alone with his son. Tess watched as he dragged his sleeve across his face and took a deep breath. He greeted Montgomery properly, then walked over to pull Pippa up out of her chair and embrace her. He took her face and kissed her forehead.
“The journey here wasn’t too taxing, daughter?” he asked with a smile.
“Nay, my lord,” Pippa said, in perfect medieval French. “Montgomery, as always, made it a pleasant excursion for me.”
Rhys released her and paused. Tess stood when he turned to her, because it was the thing to do, though she wasn’t exactly sure her knees would hold up under the strain. Rhys’s assessment of her was quick and brutal, but his subsequent smile was no less charming than it had been for Pippa.
“A sister,” he mused. “Either Tess or Peaches, I would say, but I’m not sure how to tell. Then again, I couldn’t tell my lads apart half the time, so I’m not the best judge of these things.”
“I’m Tess,” Tess managed. “’Tis a pleasure to meet you, my lord.”
Rhys considered her, then stepped back so he could look at John as well. “I sense something going on here that I wasn’t informed about.”
John looked at his father gravely. “I had the great fortune to meet Tess . . . well, we met because of a fortuitous set of circumstances. And aye, there is something between us as you’ll notice if you’ll mark her left hand.”
“I wonder if you’ve wooed her properly up to now,” Rhys said with a frown, “or if I should be taking matters and this sweet girl under my protection until you display all that chivalry I instilled in you.”
Gwen laughed a little, then elbowed him out of the way and embraced Tess warmly.
“Ignore my husband,” Gwen said, pulling back and smiling at her. “It bothers him when his children go on to lead useful, productive lives without his aid.”
“It doesn’t,” Rhys protested. “I just like to have a say in the timing of those lives. And since this lovely gel here is indeed wearing one of Jake’s rings on her finger, I fear I’ve arrived too late to see that she’s been properly courted. Fortunately we have come in time for me to remedy what I can.”
“Find a chair,” Gwen suggested. “I think you’ll have nothing at all to say about this save congratulations. John is old enough to choose his own bride, and I daresay Tess can decide where her heart has led her.”
“We aren’t wed,” Tess offered.
“But we will be soon,” John said pointedly.
“Excellent,” Rhys said, rubbing his hands together. “That will give me a chance to dower her properly since I don’t see her father here.” He shot Tess a look. “Your sister has told me quite a bit about your parents.”
Tess nodded, finding herself rather happier than usual that she’d taken the trouble to become fluent in modern French. It made navigating the medieval Norman version of it quite a bit easier. She imagined her efforts wouldn’t necessarily make John’s parents feel any better about losing him yet again, but at least they would know she could understand him should he feel the need to fall back into the native tongue.
Rhys unclasped his cloak, helped Gwen off with hers, then tossed both over a chair. “I think we’ll have some refreshment, children, then assess the battlefield and see what must be done from here. John, help me find the kitchens. I won’t even say anything vile about your grandmother’s propensity to starve me every time I visit, but not being able to now. I imagine she left instructions behind for my care and feeding.”
Tess exchanged a brief glance with John, who looked as if he were contemplating a trip to the gallows, then watched him leave with his father. She imagined it might take a bit longer to fetch snacks than Rhys had let on.
She turned to Gwen once the door was shut. Gwen smiled.
“Tell me of him,” she said, her eyes glistening. “It shouldn’t be difficult to think of him as a man, but I find it is. Are his manners acceptable?”
Tess was happy to launch into a recounting of John’s finer points for his mother, grateful that Gwen was being so gracious to her even though she had to know Tess was what would take her son away from her again.
She wished Nicholas had come along for the ride. She might have found it necessary to pull him aside and ask for a few pointers.
She’d barely gotten through the story of her meeting John and a decent recounting of subsequent incidents of medieval behavior before the solar door was thrown open again and Robin stood there, slightly out of breath.
“Grandmother calls for us all—oh, hello, Mama. I didn’t realize you were here, but none too soon, I’d say.” He held out his hand and helped her to her feet, then tugged her across toward the door. “She has pronouncements. I don’t mean to be too blunt, but she’s hanging on just to make them, if you want my opinion.”
Gwen let out a shuddering breath. “Give me your arm, Robin. I find I’m not as prepared for this as I thought I would be.”
“Mama, she’s outlived Eleanor by a year and still boasting of it. I’m not sure you can ask more of her than that.”
Tess hung back as Pippa and Montgomery walked toward the door. Pippa looked at her in surprise.
“What are you doing?”
“This is family,” Tess said, feeling altogether uncomfortable.
“Which you are,” Montgomery said. “Come along with us, Tess. I guarantee she’ll call for you also.”
Tess couldn’t imagine that, but she supposed it was less obtrusive to go upstairs than it was to remain behind. She walked behind Montgomery and Pippa, trying not to dwell on the absolute improbability of following her medieval sister and that sister’s husband down a hallway that wouldn’t survive the ravages of time.
She went inside Joanna’s bedchamber but pressed herself back against the wall and tried to be inconspicuous. John came in only a handful of minutes later, looked for her immediately and lifted his eyebrows briefly. He looked as if he’d been through something, but his father looked undamaged where he stood next to him, so perhaps they’d gotten through it without incident.
Joanna was propped up on pillows, ordering everyone into places as if she were a field general and they her loyal troops. The great-grandchildren were called first, kissed, admired, and instructed what of hers they were to have. Tess didn’t pay too much attention to it besides Joanna telling Rose she would have left her the keep if she’d been able to and instructing Kendrick to keep hold of the gold she was giving him to make repairs to whatever mechanics of familial keeps he destroyed.
She bid farewell to her grandchil
dren in what seemed to be no particular order, giving them instructions as well, and gifts that they received with reluctance but bowing to her wishes. She looked at Gwen, who sat on the far side of her bed.
“You’ll tell Isabelle that I loved her,” Joanna said. “I know she was near her time. And you’ll do the same for Jennifer. She’s a lovely gel, and I’ll miss listening to her music. Tell Nicky he’s still my favorite.”
“Of course, Mother,” Gwen said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Whatever you wish.”
“What I wish is that you would stop feeding your husband such rich food. Look how he stands there and glowers at me.”
“I’m trying not to unman myself by weeping,” Rhys said dryly.
Joanna scowled at him, then took a deep breath. “I suppose that leaves me just a thing or two more to do before I go. You all seem to be very well settled in lovely keeps. Well, save my wee Johnny, so I suppose that means he should come and sit by me.”
John perched on the edge of her bed and took her hands. “I don’t need anything, Grandmère—”
“Of course you do,” Joanna interrupted him, “for more reasons than to provide your bride with a decent life.” She looked around John. “Rob, love, go fetch the priest and a scribe.”
“Priest?” Robin squeaked.
“Make haste,” Joanna said sharply. “By the saints, whelp, think you I have all day for this business? I’ve a marriage to witness, then I think I’ll sleep. I’m very tired.”
Tess watched John look at his mother. “Marriage?” he mouthed.
“Yours,” Joanna said distinctly, “to that very lovely gel huddled against the wall where she shouldn’t be hiding. Come over here, Tess. You’ll have to humor an old woman this afternoon.”
Tess went, because she didn’t dare do anything else. Joanna looked at her closely.
“Want him, do you?”
“Aye, my lady,” Tess said, because it was true. “Though I live very far away—”
“Aye, I know all about that,” Joanna said, waving dismissively, “though I won’t talk about it in front of the bairns. I pried Jennifer’s details from her one afternoon, though I’ll admit it was during the midst of one of her labors and her resistance was a bit weaker than it might have been otherwise. If you’re of her ilk, then I know all about where you live. I can only assume John’s been loitering in the same place.”
“Aye,” John managed. “I have been.”
Joanna pursed her lips. “Well, this will put a bit of a crimp in your plans, but you two will work things out, I imagine. Where is that lazy priest of mine?”
“Here, my lady!” a man said breathlessly, bursting into the room. “I’m here with my scribe.”
“Robin, recount everything,” Joanna said, sounding truly weary for the first time that afternoon. “But be quick about it.”
Robin ran through the list without hesitation, the scribe scribbled, and Joanna nodded.
“Witness it,” she said. “Whoever wants to contest it can fight with you, Robin, after the fact.” She looked at Rhys. “Roland of Chevington was here last night, trying to convince me to leave Segrave to him. I understand that Richard disowned him a fortnight ago—again. He was very keen to be his father’s overlord, which I can scarce fault him for.”
“He’s a cheeky whoreson,” Rhys said cheerfully. “Though he learned that from his sire. I wouldn’t be surprised to watch Richard go to the king and try to have Chevington and Segrave both.”
“Which is why I fully intend to see both thwarted myself, lest your generous heart overwhelm you and you lose your senses long enough to make him a present of my hall.” She looked at Robin. “Assure yourself that the scribe takes this down properly. The bulk of my gold your father can see distributed as he wishes, but your grandsire’s title and the keep go to John.”
Tess had to sit down on the bed.
Joanna looked at her. “You needn’t live here, gel, but I want him to have the title. Second-favorite grandson and all. ’Tis his reward for all those years spent at the lute.” She glanced at John shrewdly. “Well? Nothing to say?”
John cleared his throat. “Grandmère,” he said slowly, “I’m not sure how—”
“You’d best determine how, hadn’t you, whelp?” Joanna said briskly. “Now, I’ll see you and your lady wed, then I want another round of kisses and sweet embraces whilst earthly breath remains me. Father Edward!”
The priest leaped forward. “Aye, Lady Joanna?”
“Wed these two here,” Joanna said with a languid gesture. “But be quick about it.”
Tess watched John rise, then turn and hold out his hands for her. She put her hands into his, faintly reassured to find his hands were not quite as steady as they looked.
“Well,” he murmured.
“I’m not about to argue with her,” Tess said, feeling slightly breathless.
“It’s best not to,” he agreed. He turned to the priest. “As for a recounting—”
“Skip that part,” Joanna instructed. “Rhys, give this sweet girl some of my gold and a pair of horses. John no doubt has enough of his own to see to her comfort in the future. John, wed her and bed her so I can go to my rest peacefully.”
Tess found that she was blushing as she knelt next to John in front of the priest. She looked at John and had a smile for her trouble.
“Want to change your mind?” he asked.
“No,” she said without hesitation. “You?”
He shook his head with a slow smile. “At least Pippa will get to watch.”
That was something, at least. Tess supposed someone would tell her later what the priest had said. She understood the Latin, of course, but she was slightly distracted by the fact that she was marrying the Earl of Segrave, who would have a keep eight centuries in the past that he was responsible for while he would be concurrently carrying on an ordinary life in the future.
And then John kissed her and she couldn’t think at all.
She only realized that the noise bothering her was feet pounding down the passageway instead of blood thundering in her ears because the bedchamber door was thrown open.
“We’re under assault,” a man exclaimed.
Rhys turned immediately. “By whom?”
“Chevington colors.”
John pushed himself to his feet, swearing. He was joined in his opinions by several of his closest relations, most notably Joanna, who obviously had no use for anyone from Chevington.
“John, you’d best lead the charge,” she said firmly, “carrying the title as you do. I’ll stay here with the gels whilst you lads go see to the annoyance. Gwen, find me a dagger. Amanda, I’m assuming you have a blade or two tucked into your boots?”
Tess thought it best to get herself out of the middle of the fray, as it were, though that made her lose track of John sooner than she would have liked. She finally managed to push through the press of people and get herself out into the passageway. She made a grab for his arm before he ran off.
“Where are you going?” she asked, feeling slightly terrified by the prospect of his taking a sword and using it in a pitched battle.
“Out to keep you safe,” he said. He shrugged. “Not to worry.”
“Not to worry?” she echoed incredulously. “But, John—”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her briefly. “Stay,” he commanded.
“John—”
“Stay behind, Tess,” he said seriously, “as a good medieval wife should.”
“But—”
He smiled. “You don’t think I’m about to wed you and be too dead not to fulfill the rest of my grandmother’s commands, do you?”
“I don’t know what to think,” she managed, feeling lightheaded. “John, this isn’t a movie scene—” She shut her mouth abruptly at the look on his face. She put her arms around him and held him tightly. “You don’t have to say it. I know you’ve done this before. At least I think you’ve done this before.”
“I have, and come
away unscathed.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her briefly. “Go back inside that bedchamber, sit with my mother, sisters, and nieces, and wait for me. I’ll be back when I’m finished outside. If someone tries to break down the door, clout them over the head with a fire iron.”
She knew he was trying to make her laugh, but she honestly couldn’t. The realities of his former life were staring her in the face, and she didn’t like them.
“My time period,” he said quietly. “My rules.”
“And when do my rules apply?”
“We’ll negotiate that later, when we have the leisure to do so. I’ll tell you right now, however, that there will never be any negotiation where your safety is concerned.” He kissed her again, then turned and walked away. “Go back inside,” he called over his shoulder.
She started to, then stood with her hand on the door. He turned at the top step.
“I love you,” he said quietly.
“I love you,” she managed.
He held up his hand, then disappeared down the stairs.
Tess turned and walked into the bedroom only to walk bodily into her sister. She didn’t protest when Pippa took her by the arm, then shut the door and bolted it. It was all she could do to get herself over to a chair and sit down before her knees gave way. She looked up at her sister. “How do you stand this?”
“All part of the territory, sister dear,” Pippa said gently. “You can still play the lute, can’t you?”
“Now?” Tess asked incredulously. “And yes, I play, but very badly.”
“Play for Joanna anyway. She’ll love you for it.”
Tess soon found she didn’t have any choice. She dredged up the two things she knew, played them very badly indeed, then toyed with a few Renaissance things she’d learned to pad her repertoire. She was quite happy eventually when Amanda’s daughter Rose volunteered to demonstrate to her grandmother the things she’d been learning. She waited until everyone was resettled before she drew her sister aside and prepared to grill her quietly about the Chevington boys and what they’d been up to.
She had the feeling knowing that might mean the difference between John’s life and death.