Jenna Jaxon - Time Enough to Love 03

by Beleaguered

  The final leg of their journey thus proved surprisingly uneventful, for which Geoffrey offered up a sincere prayer of thanksgiving. With the sky’s cooperation, by the first of April they were back on English soil. And on a day filled with warm sun and a gentle breeze, they came at last to Longford Manor.

  Geoffrey leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse of the house as they turned into the long avenue lined with tall oaks that led to Longford. They rounded a curve and the greystone manor came into view, a daunting sight as always. A large, rambling affair with a central structure—an original keep three stories high—to which additions had been built on either side. Even with multiple windows, the manor looked forbidding, as though no warmth penetrated its walls. Very little had, in fact. But that would change now. He glanced toward the carriage. How would Alyse find her new home? If he knew his wife, she would at once plan changes to make their home into a friendlier haven.

  They stopped in front of the portico, and Geoffrey jumped down to hand Alyse from the carriage then offered her his arm. “Longford Manor has never been very welcoming, I fear, my love. I have some few good memories here, but some very unpleasant ones as well.” Geoffrey scowled, the thought of his brother’s death and his marriage to Lady Mary coming immediately to mind. He shrugged and shook off the chill that memory always brought him. “The lands surrounding it are pleasant enough, but the house itself has always wanted a woman’s touch to make it a gracious home.” He smiled and squeezed her hand. “Now you are here, my sweet, all will be remedied in an excellent manner.”

  “I truly hope so, my lord. I would have our home be inviting to everyone.” She frowned as they neared the portico. “But Geoffrey, we do not know whether or not your father still lives. If he does, will we make our home here, even though he may disapprove of our marriage?” She clutched his arm.

  “Be easy, love. He should have no quibble with our marriage, for he approved it himself last year.” Geoffrey took her by the shoulders. “He never disapproved of you, Alyse. ’Twas his ambition to see the family name linked to royalty that made him break our betrothal.”

  The great door to the manor opened, and a gaunt face peered out.

  “But, look, here is my father’s steward. Now we will see how the wind blows. John.” Geoffrey stepped onto the portico as the elderly man rushed out in an ambling gait.

  “Sir Geoffrey.” John gazed at him, a wide grin splitting his face. “Beg pardon, my Lord Longford.” He bowed.

  Lord Longford.

  A heaviness descended on his heart that surprised him. His hatred of the man should have precluded any feeling, save that of satisfaction. Yet the sense of loss clutched him. Apparently, the bonds of blood bit deeper than he had believed.

  “We were afraid you too had been taken by this cursed pestilence,” John continued, not seeming to notice his silence. “God be praised that you stand here, my lord, for we have heard nothing of you since last summer. Welcome home, my lord.” He grasped Geoffrey’s hand and pressed his forehead to it.

  Dear Lord.

  This would take some getting used to. He nodded and withdrew his hand, not knowing where to look.

  Alyse rushed forward and placed a soft hand on his arm. “I am so sorry, Geoffrey, that you are met with this sad news on your homecoming.”

  He shook his head and covered her hand with his. “John, this is my wife, Alyse, now Lady Longford.”

  The elder’s eyes widened, as he took in Alyse’s swollen body. “My lord and…my lady, welcome home.” The question was in his voice and his eyes.

  Geoffrey sighed. ’Twould not be the last time he would make this explanation. “I am certain you remember well, John, when last you saw me, ’twas Lady Mary who was my wife.” No one in the countryside would have forgotten his ranting on the fact.

  The steward shifted uneasily, nodded then glanced at Alyse again.

  “Sadly , she died while we were in France,” Geoffrey continued. God rest your soul, Mary. You deserved better than me. “Lady Alyse is the woman Father betrothed me to at first. And dearer to me than any other.”

  “My lady.” John bowed to her. “I am so pleased you and his lordship are home at last.” The old retainer turned to usher them into the house, but Geoffrey stopped him.

  “Who is left, John? I assume Father…died of the plague.” The words still could not be believed, despite the many people he had known who had died. His father had seemed too strong willed to let a mere illness strike him down.

  “Aye, the scourge hit Longford hard, mayhap a month after you sailed to France. His lordship held the sickness at bay for near a month more. Then one morning he did not appear to break his fast. I found him in his solar.” His face changed as he spoke, seeming to draw in upon itself until deep creases showed at his eyes and mouth. “The ones of us remaining managed to give him a proper burial.”

  Geoffrey crossed himself. Let the man have peace and be done. He clapped John on his shoulder. “So there are others left of the household?”

  John nodded. “Aye, there are five still here, my lord. Everyone else either took sick and died or left to avoid the illness.”

  “That is better than at Beaulieu,” Alyse said, and squeezed his hand. “And with Louis, we now are eight.” She indicated the coachman, who was unloading the carriage.

  His wife ever looked to the bright side. ’Twas not nearly enough to run the estate. Yet it was a start. “This is Louis, sent from Lady Longford’s father to be head groom here. Has anyone been tending the stables?”

  “There is nothing to tend, my lord. The horses were all taken when people fled the pestilence.” John pursed his lips and grunted.

  Geoffrey gave Alyse a grateful look. “’Tis a good thing then, my sweet, that you had the forethought to bring an extra horse. It seems we will have need of breeding them soon if we would have a stable again.” He turned back to John. “See to it that our chests are taken to the master chamber, John. And show Louis where to put the horses.”

  “Aye, my lord. I’ll send him to George. He’s been taking care of the grounds these many months.” John made his ambling way toward Louis, and the two began to speak.

  Geoffrey took Alyse by the hand and led her to the front door where there was one more ceremony to be performed. He swept her off her feet and into his arms.

  “Ahhh. What are you doing?” Alyse grabbed his neck with a vice-like grip. “I weigh as much as Mirabelle, Geoffrey. You will injure yourself.” She clutched him closer.

  He laughed, the joy of her presence here overriding all the sadness of the homecoming. “You weigh less than a goshawk, my dove. And I would begin our marriage aright by carrying you over my threshold.” He rested his head against hers. “Mayhap we could use some good luck from now on.”

  “Aye, my lord.” She smiled and caressed his face. “I would not turn down any boon now.”

  Geoffrey stepped over the threshold and into the Great Hall. Instead of putting her down, however, he held her close to his heart, relishing the feeling of her in his arms anew. His bride in his home. Despite treachery, tragedy, and pestilence, life had become good again. A deep rumbling laugh bubbled out of him, a swelling of joy he had never experienced before. On a whim borne of pure happiness, he twirled her around at a dizzying speed.

  “Geoffrey! You must stop. I will be ill!”

  He halted at her command, but did not release her. She deserved a proper homecoming. He tasted her lips, deeply and thoroughly. “Welcome home, my love.”

  With that, he started up the steps to the second floor, carrying her into his father’s solar where he finally let her slip to the floor. “This is our chamber, sweetheart.”

  Geoffrey surveyed the familiar room with new eyes. Windows along the south wall looked out on the manor’s central courtyard and brought in the warm sun every afternoon. Tapestries of hunt scenes and dragons in rich greens, golds, and reds adorned the walls. The wooden floor had its own carpet as well in a pattern of concentric squares. He smiled at the
small table and single chair huddled near the fireplace. The room had been arranged for the comfort of one very demanding man. Little had changed here since his boyhood.

  The final piece of furniture was the immense oak bed that took the space of an entire wall, and jutted into the room with impudence. The thick mattress and rich velvet coverings were the one luxury his father had allowed himself. ’Twould serve them well also. But what would Alyse think of it?

  She stood in the middle of the floor, turning around and nodding as she took everything in. Her inspection complete, she approached the massive bed and ran a hand over the soft bed coverings.

  “’Tis the bed we will share from now on, my love,” he said, going to stand behind her. “The bed where our children will be born and bred.” He smiled and placed a protective hand on her burgeoning stomach. “Except for this wee one, who stole a march on us.”

  Alyse’s face went from sunny delight to a dark, brooding frown. She slid her hand across her belly and rubbed it absently. The lines of her puckered brow deepened.

  “What is wrong, my love, that you frown so? Is the chamber not to your liking? Or does the babe make himself known?” Geoffrey had been amazed at the ferocity of the child’s activity, for Alyse often drew his hand to her belly that he might feel the forceful kicking.

  She smiled and moved to sit by the fireplace. “I was wondering who will attend me when the child is born, Geoffrey.” She glanced up at him then away. “I have only ever seen a birth once, and I do not know what to do. Is there a village nearby where we may ask for a midwife? There should be someone who has taken care of the women of your shire when their time is due.” Still she would not meet his eyes. “I am afraid the sickness may not have spared a midwife more than any other person.”

  Geoffrey knelt before her, clasping her hands tightly. ’Twas a need he had somehow not anticipated. “I will ask John at once if he knows who is attending the local women. Once we are settled in, I will ride out and fetch the woman that she may be known to you. If she does not suit you, I will ride to the next town and the next, until I find someone you can trust. Someone I will trust with you and our babe.” He cupped her face, so beautiful despite the furrowed her brow. “I know your time draws near. ’Tis no shame to feel afraid. Any soldier does before a battle.”

  She smiled at that. “You think of this as a battle? I hope it is not near so warlike.”

  He smiled back, massaging her hands. “Not warlike, but unknown. Like any untried soldier you will need the best commander possible, to instill courage in you and lead you through it. I promise you will have the best care I can provide, love.”

  Geoffrey pulled Alyse into a strong embrace, hiding his face over her shoulder for he had caught her mood. The thought that he might lose her in childbed twisted his heart, filled him with more fear than any foe ever could. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and quit the chamber quickly, before he revealed his alarm. He would not wait another moment before seeking the woman they needed.

  The news he returned with was far from encouraging. The plague had not spared the local midwife, according to John, so Geoffrey had gone into Longford Village to find out who had been attending the women there. What he found disturbed him greatly. Only three women had delivered babies since the plague had struck last August. All other pregnant women had died of the illness. Of the three who had gone into labor, two had borne children before and so had been able to help each other. Both those mothers had survived, although one of the children had died. The third woman had been carrying her first child and had gone into labor in the middle of the night without assistance. Both she and her babe had died.

  At dinner, Geoffrey glossed over the details of his trip as much as possible, instead focusing on redoubling his efforts to find a midwife. Alyse tried to put on a brave face, but she had paled when he mentioned the woman who died. Damnation. He could have withheld the information from her, but he would not deal double with his wife. She deserved to know the truth of their circumstances. He could, however, give her some reassurances. “An I am unable to find a midwife, I will hire the two mothers who recently had their lying-in. They will know well how to help you when your time comes.”

  “If only I could have a familiar face with me,” she said, picking at her food.

  “You need to eat, love, for the child.”

  She made a face, but tore off a piece of her bread and chewed resolutely.

  “I will stay with you, my love, if you want me to.” He recoiled from the idea of seeing her in pain, but would gladly make that sacrifice if it would allay her fears.

  “Nay, my love.” The horror that filled her wide eyes seemed almost comical. “I would not have you see me thus. Such things are not meant for men’s eyes. But oh, if I could have Lady Maurya to attend me, I would rejoice. She was such a good friend. Even Anne, though we never got along. But as long as I have someone with experience, I am sure I will be fine.” She went back to picking at the food on her trencher.

  Geoffrey drank deep of his wine, hating that he had no better prospects to offer her. There were simply no midwives in the surrounding countryside. Mayhap if he journeyed far enough he would find a woman with birthing experience to attend her, although unlikely it would be one she knew. All her friends had perished in France. No one had been spared, neither kith nor kin. Unless…. Geoffrey shot upright in his seat, his whole body tensed. “Alyse, what if I fetched your sister to attend you?”

  Alyse’s head came up; her eyes met his with a gleam of joy. “What a wonderful idea.” She took up a piece of chicken and bit into it enthusiastically. “Pippa knows nothing of childbirth, but if I could have her attend me at least I would not feel so all alone. Do you think the queen could spare her?”

  “I do not know, but I ride to Windsor at first light tomorrow. With luck, I will return tomorrow evening with your sister, or at least the promise of her. I may have to return with the carriage for her. When do you expect to be confined?”

  “As best I can figure, I am not due before May Day, but I cannot be sure. Might she truly come back with you tomorrow?” Her eager face wrenched his heart. He would bring the girl back if he had to tie her behind him on Saracen.

  “I will bring her as quickly as I can, love. I will steal her away if I must, but I will bring her to you ere you are brought to childbed. My word on it.” He rose from the table. “And now, if you have finished, my countess, I will take you to our bed.”

  He swept Alyse up in his arms and gently laid her down in the big bed. He quickly stripped off his garments, blew out the lights, and slid into the sheets beside her. She snuggled in beside him, and they lay together kissing and caressing until a series of rapid kicks landed squarely on Geoffrey’s stomach.

  “Whoa, little one.” He laughed. “I do but kiss your mother. Wait a while before you try to defend her.” He kissed Alyse again. “Did you ever think to have such a cadre of gallant protectors, my lady?”

  “Nay, my lord, though I am glad of them.” She rubbed her belly where the flesh poked out as the babe moved within her. “However, it seems I hardly have need of them now.” She stared down at her extremely swollen belly and spoke with mock horror. “I am so big, Geoffrey, no one would look twice at me, much less desire a woman who looks like she swallowed a cow.”

  “Never a cow, my love.” He grinned mischievously. “But perhaps a calf?’

  “Geoffrey!”

  “A small calf…”

  Laughing, he took her in his arms. Someone desired her this moment. He raised her shift and ran his hand over her stomach then kissed the creamy skin. Here was beauty incarnate. And it would be his absolute pleasure to convince her of that.

  Chapter 20

  Geoffrey’s journey to London bore wonderful fruit. Alyse shed tears of joy when she beheld her sister and the midwife riding in a carriage sent by Queen Phillipa to attend her. Much of her anxiety eased with the arrival of Joan Margate, who had attended the queen at several of her lyings-in. With her
years of experience, this woman could tell her with surety what to expect during the labor. The more she knew, the less she would fear.

  The three women immediately fell to making preparations for Alyse’s coming confinement. They retired to the master solar, where Joan bade Alyse lie down that she might examine her. She asked about the pregnancy and how she had faired thus far. She felt Alyse’s belly and the hearty kicking that seemed constant now.

  “’Tis a good sign, my lady, that the child is so active. Mayhap ’twill make for an easier time for you.”

  Alyse sent a prayer to St. Margaret, patron saint of laboring women, that it might be so.

  The last week in April, the child moved downward in Alyse’s belly; Joan confirmed it was a sign her time was near. She had grown so big, it was difficult to sit, stand, or lie down. Although she still feared the coming ordeal, she longed for her labor to begin. She was heartily tired of waiting.

  As she lay beside Geoffrey in the huge oak bed, she turned this way and that, trying to find a position that would afford her some rest. The skin over her belly was stretched as tight as a drum which compounded her discomfort. She rubbed it in an attempt to find some relief, and got a kick from within for her pains. Try as she might, nothing she did appeared to help. If she lay on her right side, she rested her back against Geoffrey, usually her favorite way to fall asleep. Now, however, his heat seemed to scorch her through her shift, and she had to keep her distance. Lying on her other side was more comfortable, but her left arm tended to get a prickling sensation whenever she lay like that for long. And if she lay on her back…