by Alexa Aston
“Tilda, let the others know we are ready,” Merryn told a hovering servant. “Ladies, if you will proceed to the chapel, we will be with you shortly.”
Everyone but Merryn filed out the door. She gave Elinor one last look and embraced her gently.
“I don’t want to wrinkle you. But you do look lovely. As lovely as any de Montfort bride has ever been.”
Geoffrey appeared in the doorway, looking handsome and distinguished. Elinor thought to the future and how Hal might look much the same come their own daughter’s wedding day.
“Are you ready?” He offered her his arm.
Merryn kissed Elinor’s cheek and then her husband’s. The three left the bedchamber and proceeded to the chapel. Kinwick stood empty since everyone awaited them at the chapel but Elinor inhaled the scent of cooked goose and venison as they passed the great hall. Merryn had asked what she wanted served at the wedding feast and Elinor had discussed the menu with Cook. She had told the old woman that whatever Cook wanted to serve, they would all be happy to eat since her every creation was a delight. The servant’s eyes had crinkled as she laughed heartily, happy at the compliment received from Elinor.
Merryn gave a wave and headed toward the chapel as minstrels assembled before them. The band of men began to play a merry tune as they started out. Geoffrey and Elinor fell in step behind them. As the music played, her heart beat quickly in anticipation.
In minutes, she would become Elinor de Montfort. Tonight, she and Hal would come together as man and wife. She blinked away the tears of happiness that misted her eyes as they passed the large circle of wedding guests that surrounded the doors of the chapel.
Geoffrey led her to a waiting Hal, who looked beyond handsome in midnight blue, his blue eyes vivid as he watched her glide toward him. Geoffrey handed her off to his son and Hal entwined his fingers through hers as they came to stand before the door of the church. Father Dannet, the Kinwick priest, met them there.
Since Elinor had never attended a wedding, she did not know what to expect. The priest asked them several questions, including if they were of age and if they had parental consent. That took Elinor aback for a moment. She hated that even the mention of her parents intruded on this happy day.
Father Dannet asked more questions before he gave a short homily. Elinor tamped down her impatience, wanting to speak her vows and bind herself to Hal forever.
Finally, it came time for them to pledge their love in front of those gathered. The priest had them face one another, their hands joined. Elinor trembled, her nerves getting the better of her, but Hal stood tall and confident.
“Sir Hal de Montfort, will thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health; and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
Hal’s voice rang out. “I will.” His eyes held all the love in the world—and it was for her.
“Lady Elinor Swan, will thou . . .”
The priest’s words became lost in the thunderous noise of many horses approaching. Everyone turned to see who arrived since all wedding guests had been accounted for.
As the first riders rounded the corner, cold fear tightened about her heart. The Swan family banner appeared.
They had come for her, just as they had in her nightmares.
Chapter 25
Hal did not recognize the banner the rider carried but he noticed how tightly Elinor gripped his hands. Then Lord Nigel Swan came into view and dismounted from his horse.
Why would the Baron of Nelham choose to come to his cousin’s wedding, especially when he had totally rejected her?
Suddenly, Elinor yanked her hands from his. Pain filled her eyes. “I cannot marry you. Forgive me, Hal. ’Tis not meant to be.”
Terror laced with panic spread through him. He could not lose Elinor. Not now. Not after all they had been through.
The gathered crowd had parted so that the baron now stood before them. Beside him, he held the hand of a young boy and girl. Hal assumed these were the motherless children he’d spoken of when Hal had confronted the man at Whitley.
Elinor stepped toward the nobleman. “I know why you are here, Cousin Nigel. I promise to go with you quietly. Please, say nothing. I don’t want anyone to know.”
Confusion wrinkled the baron’s brow. “Why would you go anywhere with me, Cousin Elinor? I have come here to right a wrong.”
“I know,” she hissed. “I understand the wrong must be righted but I beg you. Do not say anything in front of these good people. Please.”
Lord Nigel raised the hands of the children. “First, I come to introduce you to Dumphey, my son, who will become the baron one day. And this is Helewyse, my girl. I wanted you to meet them, as you should have long before now. They are here to witness their father correct his sins. If I am to be a good example to my children, then I must start by making amends with you, Elinor.”
“Amends?” she echoed.
Hal brought a protective arm about her shoulders and took one of her hands, which had turned ice cold. She didn’t seem to notice as she gaped at Lord Nigel.
“Aye, Cousin. I can never undo the damage done to you by your father but I vow from this day forth to set things right between us.”
He freed his hands and gestured to a soldier who’d come to stand behind him. The man handed over a large, leather pouch, which the baron gave to Hal. He took the bag, wondering what it contained.
Lord Nigel continued. “I have given your intended the bridal price Sir Hal should have received from the Swan family. I know your father never would have paid one because he cared so little for you. Frankly, I had no intention of paying one until this man came to see me.”
The baron drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “After his visit, I wallowed in pity for weeks because I’d lost my wife—yet my thoughts kept turning to you, Cousin. How we’d been forbidden to even mention your name for years. How you’d been sent away and had nothing—and yet this good knight somehow found you deep within that forest and wanted to marry you. He chastised me for not doing the right thing when I became Baron of Nelham. I could have restored you to our family and given you your due respect. I was remiss. For that, I apologize.”
The nobleman locked eyes with Elinor. “I can never make it up to you, I fear. I only hope that one day you will find it in your heart to forgive me.” He looked about. “I promise not to intrude further, as I see we have interrupted your wedding to Sir Hal. I did want to show my support of you by letting you know ’tis your family who provides your dowry to the de Montforts. My children have seen that I am a flawed man. I have made mistakes, Cousin, but I am trying to rectify this one.”
Lord Nigel stepped toward Elinor and kissed her cheek.
“Wait!” she cried as he turned to leave.
Hal gripped her shoulder but she ignored him.
“I must go with you, Nigel. I must atone for my sins.” Elinor bowed her head. “I am the one who killed your wife, my lord. I murdered Lady Rohesia.”
The color drained from the nobleman’s face. “What?” he whispered, as the gathered crowd shifted restlessly.
Elinor shook Hal’s hand from her. Her eyes met his. “I am sorry, Hal. This is why I cannot marry you. ’Tis why I ran away before. I did not want to damage your reputation or stain your family’s good name because of my sins. I was selfish to think I could wed you and ignore what I’ve done but the time has come to pay for what I have done.”
“But you did not kill Lady Rohesia, Elinor,” Hal said calmly, defying the heart that raced inside him.
“I did!” she proclaimed. She looked in anguish to her cousin. “I did not mean to, Nigel. I swear I didn’t. And I am so sorry I caused Lady Rohesia’s death.”
“But . . . but . . . they told me she fell,” the nobleman said. “How could you have killed her?”
“I provoked her,” Elinor
insisted. “She had replaced me as Whitley’s falconer. She told me she was sending me away to the north because I was such a wicked person. I told her she had no authority over me and left the solar.”
Elinor began crying. “She ran after me. She said things. Awful, terrible things. She demanded I give her total obedience. I refused. She was so angry with me, Nigel. She said I had betrayed my family when, in truth, I had none. When she saw I refused to give in to her demands, she turned away in frustration and lost her footing on the hem of her gown. She fell. I made her fall.”
Tears glittered in Lord Nigel’s eyes. Hal clenched Elinor’s shoulders and spun her to face him. Her eyes had glazed over, as if she were in shock.
“A man in battle swings his sword and kills. ’Tis a deliberate action against an enemy. Did you push Lady Rohesia, Elinor? Did you knock her down those stairs? Did you force her to lose her balance, on purpose, and take her life?”
She shook her head. “Nay. I was at the bottom of the staircase. But—”
“There is no but, Elinor. Lady Rohesia had a tragic accident—but you did not cause it. She fell of her own accord. You could not have saved her. You did not kill her, sweetheart. You weren’t the one who caused her bodily injury.” He shook her, hard. “You are not a murderess, love. You are blameless.”
Hal prayed he had gotten through to her. He looked to Lord Nigel for support. Color had returned to the baron’s face.
“Elinor?”
Hal turned her to face her cousin. His arm went round her waist to support her quivering frame.
“You did not kill her, Elinor. I know how full of hate Rohesia could be. She was an unhappy woman, no matter what happiness I tried to bring her. ’Twas her anger which killed her, Elinor. Her rage. That alone caused her to fall. Not you. ’Twas an accident.”
Lord Nigel drew close to her. “I do not blame you, Cousin.” He kissed her forehead and stepped back.
Elinor went limp. Hal scooped her up into his arms and watched her eyelids flutter and then close.
Suddenly, his mother appeared at his elbow.
“She’s only fainted, Hal. She will be fine. Take her into the chapel. Tilda!” Merryn called over her shoulder. “Bring my satchel.”
*
Elinor’s mouth felt dry. She licked her lips, which seemed parched.
“She’s awake,” a voice said.
Opening her eyes, she saw she rested on the ground. Her eyes searched the place and discovered she was inside the Kinwick chapel. Then everything came rushing back to her. Nigel’s arrival. The vows halted. Her cousin’s heartfelt apology and gift of the bridal price.
And her confession to killing Rohesia Swan.
But no one blamed her. Not Hal. Not Nigel.
Warm lips pressed against her forehead.
Hal . . .
“Are you well?” he asked softly, his breath tickling her cheek.
Elinor pushed up using her elbows and saw her feet sitting in Merryn’s lap.
“You fainted,” the noblewoman said. “’Tis best to lie flat with your feet raised when that occurs.” She smiled. “You had some shocking news.”
Hal took Elinor’s hand and tenderly kissed her fingers. “I am so sorry that you thought you were to blame. That you tried to run. I wish you would have told me what troubled you.”
Elinor closed her eyes as he brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek, savoring his touch. She opened them and said, “When I learned from Merryn that you went to Whitley, I knew you would find out the truth about Lady Rohesia’s death. As a knight, you are sworn to bring justice. I couldn’t bear the thought of you being the one to retrieve me and escort me to the hangman’s noose.”
She wiped her eyes. “I’ve had nightmares of the Nelham soldiers riding in as they did today, ready to take me into custody and return me to Whitley. I hoped with my name changing and living far from Cousin Nigel, no one would ever find me at Kinwick.”
Sitting up, she latched on to Hal’s hands. “I planned to leave. I didn’t want to bring shame to your family and cause you more unhappiness. I know how miserable you were after the Battle of Radcot Bridge.” She sniffed. “But then all of your family arrived and they were so kind and friendly. They showed me unconditional love simply because we’d chosen to be together. I wanted that. I wanted you. I wanted to be a part of this marvelous family.”
“And so you shall be,” Hal promised. “Whenever you wish.” He looked at her lovingly. “Nigel has stayed. He is very worried about you.”
“Father Dannet and all your guests are waiting, too,” Merryn added. “He is willing to continue the ceremony but only if you feel up to it.”
Elation poured through Elinor. No guilt remained. She had the love of a man who would walk through fire for her. “Then what are we waiting for?”
Hal helped her to her feet. Her first two steps proved shaky, so he swept her into his arms and carried her through the oak doors and into the spring day. A blue sky and warm sunshine greeted them, along with cheers from all who had waited patiently. Elinor’s eyes swept across those gathered, feeling the love flow from them to her and Hal. She caught sight of Nigel, who nodded graciously.
Hal set her back on her feet, his arm firm about her waist. He looked to Father Dannet. “We are ready to continue, Father. I believe we left off with my having declared my vows. ’Tis time for Elinor to do the same.”
The priest continued with the nuptial mass as if no interruption had occurred. Elinor repeated the same vows Hal had sworn to as she looked into the eyes of the man she would forever love. Then Father Dannet asked for the ring. Edward produced one and the priest blessed it. He returned it to Hal, who lifted her hand.
Placing the ring on her thumb, he said, “With this ring I thee wed and with my body I thee honor.” He moved it to her next finger and the next as he promised, “With all my worldly goods I thee endow.”
Finally, he slipped the ring on her fourth finger. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
Father Dannet motioned for them to follow him inside the chapel. Hal and Elinor did so, with their guests falling in behind them. After more prayers, a mass was said. The priest directed Hal to finalize the ceremony by kissing his bride.
Hal’s arms went about Elinor and drew her close. He bent and told her, “This will the first of thousands of kisses that we share, Wife. I will try to make each one better than the one before.”
With that, his lips met hers.
Epilogue
Kinwick Castle—Late August 1388
Hal watched the exercises in the training yard from the dais. His father and Gilbert had left half an hour before, putting him in charge. Scanning the pairs of men engage in combat, he stopped to watch Ronald and another squire square off. He smiled as Ronald dispatched his opponent quickly, thanks to incorporating suggestions Hal had given the lad during previous practices.
He jumped down and strolled through the yard, giving advice to some men and demonstrating to others. When he reached Ronald, he motioned to him. Ronald came quickly.
“You are improving every day,” he told the squire, whose grin spread wide at the compliment. “You aren’t favoring your right anymore.”
“That was a hard lesson to learn, my lord,” the boy said. “Being right-handed, I have always felt that side stronger. But thanks to you, I’m not only aware I do so, I’ve stopped preferring it. I treat each side and hand equally now.”
“It shows. Keep up the good work.”
Ronald returned to his sparring partner. Both picked up a mace and went at it again.
“You’re good with the men, Hal.”
He turned and saw Gilbert had joined him. “Thank you, Gilbert. I appreciate your kind words. You have been in charge of the men’s training since before I was born, so your opinion means a great deal to me.”
The captain of Kinwick’s guard nodded in acknowledgement. “Lord Geoffrey wishes to see you. He’s in the solar.”
“I’ll go at once.”
Hal set off for the keep, thinking his father wished to speak with him about the trip planned to the hunting lodge that was set to begin tomorrow. That lodge held a special place in Hal’s heart since he’d found Elinor and made love to her there for the first time.
Thoughts of his wife brought a glow to his insides. Elinor now carried their babe in her belly. By January of next year, they would be parents to a boy or girl. Or even twins. Who knew? His mother had birthed Alys and Ancel, while Alys had produced Philippa and Wyatt. Mayhap he and Elinor would also welcome two bundles of joy at the same time.
Hal crossed the bailey and entered the keep. He headed straight to the solar and knocked. His father’s deep voice bid him enter. As Hal opened the door, he saw Geoffrey de Montfort sitting at the table, pouring over a missive.
Henry Bolingbroke, the Earl of Derby, stood next to him.
Hal had not seen the king’s cousin since that day at Radcot Bridge, when he’d been forced to give up everything he had to the nobleman. Derby looked up and gave him a genuine smile, which made him appear even younger than his one and twenty years.
“Sir Hal, ’tis good to see you again.”
Hal bowed his head quickly. “And you, too, my lord.”
Derby burst out laughing. “Oh, I doubt that. The last time we saw one another was not pleasant for you.” A shadow crossed his face. “I regret my actions that day.”
“Nay, my lord,” Hal assured the earl. “You were on the winning side at Radcot. You had an army full of supporters. I had . . . well, I had me.” He shrugged nonchalantly, not showing the hurt he still felt at the memory.
“I am sorry we were on opposites sides that day.”
“Then return to the side of right and good,” Hal tossed out.
Geoffrey de Montfort cleared his throat. “Lord Henry has brought news, Hal. Have a seat. Both of you.”
Hal took a place next to his father, while Derby sat across from them.
“You know the Lords Appellant have controlled the government in the king’s place for some months,” Derby began. “We have failed in our task.”