by Dee Brice
At length—just when she feared he would never answer—he said, “Vinn provided a list of critical requirements to make Serenity self-sufficient. I am assessing how those requirements might need enhancing. I am also assessing how best to defend the keep within. Wherever you decide to live, Serenity will be safe.”
“And if I choose to remain with you at Beaufort? What then, Edgar?” Would he foreswear his vow to marry her? Or did his words, his concern about Serenity, mean he intended to keep her?
“Then Edina and Gerard will implement my proposals for Serenity.”
“And if I choose Serenity?”
“The choice is yours, Rowena. It matters little to me where I live. So long as I am able to train, to ride, to sing…I am happy.”
The bitterness in his voice made her choke back her tears. “I wish…I wish you would share in this decision, Edgar. Would you find it easier to command an army of your own making? Or would you prefer leading an already established force?”
He went utterly still. “I have trained green squires and pages, turned them into fit men-at-arms and knights. I have led seasoned knights into battle. It matters not which I prefer. Despite all efforts—despite all their training or who trains them—some will die. We can but pray most will survive.”
“Do you, like Gerard, sit on Gareth’s Advisory Council?”
“Aye.”
“Does Gareth solicit your advice?”
“Sometimes.”
Rowena huffed a sigh of pure frustration. She could hardly blame Edgar for making this encounter as difficult as he could. But could he not at least offer a crumb of unasked-for information?
“About what?”
He turned as if surprised to find her still in his tent. Sitting on a stool, her knees scrunched to her chest, her arms holding her knees in place.
“What about what?”
“About what does Gareth solicit your advice?”
“Oh. This and that.”
The tiniest hint of laughter in his voice gave her hope that his stubbornness weakened. Summoning her own obstinacy, surging to her feet, she strode to his side.
“Edgar, please! Your Royal Highness of Puttupon, I would hear from your lips, and only yours, what role you fill in Gareth’s kingdom.”
“Very well, Princess Rowena of Beaufort.” Taking her hand, he led her back to his chair then settled with her on his lap. “I come to you a landless bridegroom yet not a penniless one.”
Laughing, she pecked his cheek and leaned her head on his muscled shoulder. “I’ve never enjoyed riddles, my prince.”
“Too bad because you’ll solve this riddle. Or suffer the consequences. How much do you know about Yvonne’s father Alexandre?”
When her thumb and index finger separated a scant distance, Edgar slowly expelled his held breath. Prepared, braced for her scorn, he said, “You do know he was a merchant?”
“A trader, aye.”
“Trader is an apt description,” Edgar agreed.
“Meaning?”
Edgar pecked her cheek, hastening to say, “Garr—my father—thought Alexandre a fool. A canny fool, but a fool nonetheless.”
“Pray continue.”
“I thought Alexandre a genius. He invested wisely and accrued wealth beyond even my father’s never-ending lust for ever-greater riches.”
When Rowena’s shoulders fell, Edgar knew he had lost her. And yet… He could not—would not!—set her free to choose another. Mine, Rowena. You are mine!
After what seemed like an eternity, Edgar said, “You will cry quit.”
“I shall not!” Rowena cried out as if wishing the entire encampment to hear her words. “King Garr trafficked with a merchant trader, aye?”
“Aye,” Edgar agreed, caution overriding other emotions. Would Rowena, princess royal, renounce his father? Renounce him because he too had trafficked with a merchant? Would she, his very life, put a dagger through his heart?
“May I assume you—?”
“No, you mayn’t. I was too young to invest. Besides, I had no coin. But Gareth and Gerard—”
“Invested in Alexandre’s ventures?” she hazarded.
“And soon reaped a fortune. They agreed to share their wealth with me. Eventually they learned that I am better at choosing profitable ventures than they are. I have even trekked with Queen Kerrie’s confidant Farid.”
“Where did you go? And why does no one talk about this Farid?”
“We traveled here and there.”
“Edgar,” she warned, as if sensing he was about to make her pull hens’ teeth. Again.
He laughed. Sobering, he said, “As to why nobody talks about him,” he shrugged, “perhaps Willa and Pippa do not remember him. Yvonne was old enough to recall him but…grief over her mother’s death may have driven him from her mind.”
“Hmmm. Tell me about your travels.”
“That, sweeting, is best left for cold winter nights. For a blazing fire and a warm bed.”
“Whose bed, Edgar?”
“Ours,” he replied, touching her faint scar.
She spun away, her skirts flaring. “Then you can hire our army! You can protect Serenity.” Spinning back to him, she smiled, pure joy in her eyes.
Catching her in his arms, his lips hovering above hers, Edgar whispered, “Or Beaufort. The choice, Rowena, is still yours.”
“Choice,” she whispered, “aye. My choice, but—”
He watched revelation rise in her crystal blue eyes and held his breath.
“Is it possible my parents knew of your wealth? Knew that you—you hold the key to riches beyond their wildest dreams?”
“I failed soothsaying. I cannot say with any certainty what your parents did or did not know about my brothers and me.”
“Edgar!”
“Rowena, my love. My heart.”
“My very soul. I…I am truly sorry I doubted your…your—”
“Ability to make a home for you and our children?”
“Never that. I knew—knew from the very instant you winked at me—that my heart belonged to you.”
“But I never winked at you, Rowena. Edina was the only woman I saw at Gareth’s wedding.”
Then—though she had longed for long days and interminable nights to do so—only then did she box his ears.
“Who,” she demanded through clenched teeth, “is Edina?”
“Damned if I know,” Edgar replied then lost himself in Rowena’s ardent kisses.
Chapter Eleven
Gerard—wretched man—caught up with Edina just after she crossed the drawbridge. The sound of pounding hooves startling her, she looked up. Gathering her kirtle above her knees, she bolted toward the bailey. Before she reached the portcullis, he swept her up, kicking and screaming, then rode off.
“’Tis fortunate,” he said when he’d slowed his destrier to a walk, “for us both that my horse is trained for battle.”
“Meaning?” Edina asked, hopefully conveying a princess royal totally out of sorts.
“Were he not well-trained, your caterwauling and kicking could have frightened him. He’d either try to unseat me—causing me to drop you—or he’d run who knows where or for how long.
“Where were you going, Edina?”
She glared up at him. “You mistake me for my sister. I am Rowena and I was going to talk to Edgar. As you advised me to do.”
“Do you realize, Edina, that when you’re angry your freckles stand out even more?”
Realizing he’d caught her in a lie, she covered her nose with her hand.
Gerard laughed. “’Twas not your freckles that gave you away. I saw Rowena earlier. Tears streaked her cheeks, but she marched into camp like a warrior girded for battle. She went straight to Edgar’s tent.”
“Oh,” Edina said weakly.
“You broke your promise, Edina. The one you made the night you and Rowena seduced Edgar and me. You promised the games would end.”
“Oh,” she said again.
“I
could beat you for lying to me, Edina.”
“We aren’t married yet, Gerard,” she retorted, anger replacing shame.
“As good as.” He reined his horse to a stop. “Although you’ve given me few reasons to trust you, if you promise not to run, I’ll put you down.”
Edina glanced around and recognized the path to the willows. Looking down, she clutched at Gerard’s shirt. The ground seemed leagues below her.
“Your horse is very tall, Gerard.”
“Very tall, Edina.” He chuckled. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he dismounted. “You are safe now.” One by one, he disengaged her fingers from his shirt.
“Am I? Have you brought me here—to our willow—to bed me?”
“Well…I thought we would talk first. What happens afterward is up to you.”
Her held breath eased out. “Oh.”
Taking her hand, he led her to the river, stopping at its banks. She slanted him a questioning look but held her tongue. If he wished to put off their talk she’d offer no objection. She felt unsure enough about that conversation to welcome any delay.
“I find the sound of flowing water soothing. I thought we might sit here, perhaps dangle our feet in the river.”
“You said the water is too cold,” she reminded him.
“When we first came here the water was too cold. Today,” he shrugged, “shall we find out?”
She nodded.
“This boulder looks as if countless fishermen have sat on it. Their arses have worn the stone into seats.”
Laughing softly, she kept her hand in his. He helped her down the bank, steadying her as she sat. “Why are you being so kind to me, Gerard?”
“’Tis useless to remain angry. I suspect you wanted to talk to Edgar for Rowena’s sake. Did you search the castle for him?”
“The farrier’s and the rest of the bailey. The apple orchard.” Sighing, she asked again, “Why this kindness I don’t deserve?”
“You love your sister and want her happy.”
“As you love Edgar and wish for his happiness.” She looked down at her hands. Seeing her fingers clenched into fists, she placed her hands in her lap and took a deep breath for courage. “Why did you stop me?”
Gerard skipped a small stone across the river and watched it sink. “As much as we want to protect our siblings, we cannot. We won’t always be with them and, even if we were always together, at some point each of us must stand for ourselves, Edina. Alone.” He sighed as he looked directly into her eyes. “Edgar took his stand today. And I shall forever bless Rowena for taking hers.”
“Because she went to him?”
“Aye. Because she refused to let his stubbornness and her own pride stand between them.”
“She loves him. What else could she do?”
“Nothing except what she did. ‘Tis the perfect dowry to take to him. It allows them both to recognize their love for each other.”
As if he knew Edina was feeling unloved and unlovable, he took her hand. Entwined his fingers with hers. Pressed both their hands to his heart.
“You must know, Edina, that—had nature not intervened—you would marry Edgar.”
“Aye. ‘Twould make more sense for the elder brother to marry the older sister. Even though she is older by only ten minutes.”
“Rowena and I would rule Beaufort. You and Edgar—thanks to Willa’s generosity—would rule Serenity.”
“Since nature did inconveniently intervene, which would you prefer, Gerard? Beaufort or Serenity?”
“’S’truth? I would prefer to remain a landless prince. But, since the woman I most desire comes with a kingdom or a dukedom as her dowry,” he shrugged, “I’ll make do.”
“Why is it so difficult to say the words, Gerard? There are only three of them. Each has only a few letters.”
“Can you say them?”
“I have said them. To you.”
“While pretending yet again to be Rowena.”
“While you pretended not to know ‘twas me you bedded.”
Hearing the anger in his own voice, Gerard raked his hair. “I have said the words every night since we met,” he confessed. “In my mind. In my heart. In my every prayer. I thought myself an idiot. Ruled by an uncontrollable urge to swive. To mate. Desire—lust—I understood. But wanting nothing more than to see you, to hear your voice, to watch your smile bloom when you saw me… Those emotions—those cravings—I failed to comprehend. I am still failing.” He grinned, a smile that felt as if he had banished all cares. “I don’t mind failing. I love you.”
“Oh Gerard. You have just given me the most precious gift in the world. Echoing your words—I love you too—seems so paltry.” With her free hand, she swiped at her tears. “When you winked at me in the chapel, I thought my heart would pound out of my chest. You’d looked so solemn during the wedding ceremony I feared you incapable of playing. Then—when you winked at me again as I went up the stairs—”
“You winked first,” he reminded her.
She felt her cheeks heat. “’Twas something Rowena would do without thought. I…I felt very brave, even daring. And wanton. And more confused than I’ve ever felt in my life. Despite my behavior later, I had never done anything so bold.
“I wanted to tell you at the very beginning that there are two of us. But we—Rowena and I had made a pact. And I desperately wanted you to know me for me.”
“It took some time, but I’m glad I finally figured out how to tell you from your sister. ‘Tis the strangest thing, but when Rowena was with me, I felt different than I do when you and I are together. I find you peaceful.”
She giggled. “I think I’d rather you find me exciting.”
“I do. Were you any more exciting, Edina, I’d be dead.”
“Not for many, many years, Gerard. I want to grow old with you, watch our children age, and their children grow to maturity.”
He kissed her. A brief kiss, but one that held his heart. His love.
“Would you mind terribly if we live at Serenity?”
“I can find happiness anywhere, so long as you are with me.”
“But what do you want, Gerard?”
Edina’s soft voice broke through his happy mindlessness. “Want?”
“Want, aye. For yourself. If you were free to do whatever you want to do, what would you choose?”
“Free?” he echoed, feeling as if the word itself had muddled his mind.
Edina sat up, peering into his eyes. He thought she believed him crazed. Yet, in all his seven-and-twenty years, he had never thought to do or be anything more than he already did or was.
“Indulge me, Gerard.” She smoothed an errant lock of hair from his forehead. Most likely checking for fever. “Pretend you have no responsibilities. That you owe Gareth and Edgar, Puttupon and its people—even me—nothing. What would you do?”
Although it went against his nature, Gerard tried to lighten her serious mood. “As a boy I thought to run away with the jongeur who visited The Eyrie. I dreamed of traveling with them but…my juggling skills went missing.”
“Your skills with your lute are excellent. You could become a minstrel. Any court would pay you handsomely for those skills.”
“Any court. Aye, any court—until I opened my mouth to decry some small failure in the king’s governing or mentioned the steward’s thieving or complained about whatever discrepancies I discovered that neither Garr nor Gareth would tolerate.”
“Would you tolerate those failures, Gerard? Without your father or your brother judging you, what would you do?”
Catching him unawares, a well of bitterness opened inside him. He fought it down, saying, “I truly don’t know, Edina. I have been a second son—a king in training—for so long I’ve not thought about any other life.”
Edina sighed. “I also know those constraints. Rowena always had Father’s approval. Once he accepted he’d sire no male heir, that is. From that point on—no matter how much mischief we created—Rowena could do no wron
g.
“Which he still believes. Which means he wants Rowena to have Beaufort—no matter that he pretends indifference.” She frowned then smiled once more. “Not that I blame my sister. ‘Tis virtually impossible to hate someone who takes responsibility half the time for some scheme of yours. Of mine.”
Gerard felt the laugh building in his belly. It came out as a snort, followed by a roar that shook his entire body.
Edina leaned her head against his chest. “Do you know why I want Serenity for us? To be free of constant scrutiny, of constant comparison and constantly being found lacking.”
Gerard pressed a kiss in her palm. “I shall enjoy digging in the fields. Seeing plants we grow feed us and our people.”
She grinned up at him. “A princely farmer. That suits you, Gerard.”
“We’ll find out, won’t we?”
“Aye, we shall. I hope Willa will have time to advise us. The only thing I’ve ever planted turned out to be a weed.”
Laughing, Gerard scooped her up then waded into the river.
* * * * *
Aida’s Solar
Seeing her nieces sitting with their husbands in her solar made Aida sigh. Noting her happy smile, wearing a smile of his own, Gaspar patted her hand. She entwined their fingers and sighed again.
She knew this contentment, this quiet joy, would last a short time only. Soon—too soon—Yvonne and Gareth would leave Marchonland for Puttupon. Willa and Vinn would return to his Eyrie. And only God knew how long Pippa and Banan would stay. Of all her girls, Pippa most resented living under Aida’s meddling rule. If only she could assure her youngest niece that her meddling days had ended with Pippa’s and her sisters’ marriages. But Pippa would need more than words to convince her.
“I believe ‘tis time to tell them of our plans, Aida.”
Although Gaspar had spoken softly, all conversation ceased.
“What plans, Aunt?” Pippa’s gold-flecked brown eyes narrowed and suspicion turned her lips down at the corners.
“Pippa! Not returned a day and already spoiling for a fight,” Willa scolded gently.