After Ferand’s death, she held all in trust for Ancel, who would one day assume responsibility for it when he came of age. Merryn already taught her son little things about Kinwick and how to supervise the land and people. He’d proven a quick learner, and she knew he would be a good lord to the people when his time came.
Her biggest problem would be trusting her husband once again. If he returned a second time.
Merryn knew the physical exterior was Geoffrey, but he seemed to have changed in ways too numerous to count. Her Geoffrey had been open and in perpetually good spirits. He radiated confidence and had a positive outlook no matter what task must be accomplished.
The new Geoffrey seemed highly emotional. Tense. Nervous. He perceived everything about him as a threat and the people he should love as his enemies. Only when he visited briefly with Ancel and Alys had she glimpsed a portion of the man she had known and cared for.
Merryn loved the Geoffrey of old. She wondered if she would ever be able to give her heart to this stranger.
And yet when she touched him, her blood sang in her veins. Her mind might have trouble accepting this new man, but her body told a different story.
Would he trust her enough to touch her again as he had before? Could they recapture the spark between them?
Only time would tell.
Her anger died, leaving uncertainty behind. She thought she should catch up with him in the stables. Offer to stock the lodge with provisions. But she didn’t want to make it any easier for him to be away from her and Kinwick.
Merryn would give him a week. If he hadn’t returned by then, she would go looking for him. She rose to her feet.
The chamber door flew open. Elia stumbled in, a wild look in her eye. She ran to Merryn and clung to her, weeping.
“I saw him. I saw Geoffrey.” Her voice broke, thick with emotion.
Merryn stroked her mother-in-law’s back, trying to give her soothing words of comfort. She led her to a chair and wished she could offer her a cup of wine, but the remains of it now stained the floor after Geoffrey’s fit of anger.
“I encountered him in the hallway. I thought ‘twas a ghost at first.” Her eyes widened. “Then he greeted me. Gave me a swift embrace. And told me he would return soon for good.”
Merryn took the older woman’s hand. “I can’t tell you much. Alys and I came upon him in the forest yesterday. I did not recognize him at first. He knew who he was but not where he had been all this time. He was so shy. Timid as a deer. Raynor and I sneaked him into the castle late last night. I cleaned him up as best I could.”
Elia began to cry again. “He looked like my Geoffrey, but he seemed so distant.”
“I know.” Merryn squeezed Elia’s hand. “He cannot remember what happened to him. I fear he suffered a terrible blow to his head which has caused a huge gap in his memory. We must be patient with him.”
“Where is he off to?”
“He said he needs time alone. To adjust to being back. I had to tell him of Lord Ferand’s death. Of his being a father to twins. ‘Twas much for him to take in.” Merryn paused. “He will spend a few days at the hunting lodge, gathering his thoughts,” she added.
“The lodge! Why, ‘tis the very place I would think he would avoid.”
Merryn shrugged. “Mayhap being at the place he vanished from might nudge his memory in some way. Until then, we must grant him the peace and quiet he seeks.”
“But what are we tell everyone?”
“I shall handle it, Elia.”
The older woman took her hands and squeezed them. “You have been burdened by so much, my dear.”
“Nevertheless, we must continue on. In fact, I shall write the king with the news and have Sir Symond deliver it to him.”
Elia left to lie down, so Merryn gathered parchment, quill, and ink in order to let Edward know of Geoffrey’s return. She did not want to keep anything from him, but she was loathe to share her fears and questions about her husband’s return.
Your Majesty—
I hope you will not mind that I have sent this missive with Sir Symond. I know you sent him ahead to Kinwick for a certain purpose, but ‘tis no longer relevant, for I have the best of news to share with you.
Geoffrey has returned to Kinwick.
I know not where he has been, but ‘tis obvious he has suffered much. He is currently resting and should be healthy and whole by the time of your arrival at our humble estate.
I wanted to inform you of this miracle, something that I prayed for every day for many years. Because he has returned to us, I deemed it inappropriate for Sir Symond to be present at Kinwick. I would not want Geoffrey to know that this man was to be my suitor and his replacement in our marriage bed. I trust this good knight will return to your service and that you will find him an appropriate wife in due time.
We look forward to the visit of the royal court in June.
Merryn read over what she had penned and then hastily scrawled her signature to it before she sealed it with wax. She realized the missive was vague, but she did so on purpose. It would inform Edward of the situation and definitely intrigue him, but it would probably infuriate him that she had provided no details.
More than anything, she hoped by the time the king arrived at Kinwick that Geoffrey would have fought through whatever inner demons he struggled with.
Merryn did not want to delay the inevitable. She went downstairs to the Great Hall, hoping Raynor would have brought Symond back for the noon meal.
When she arrived at the doors, Tilda rushed to her. “My lady. The castle is buzzing with gossip.”
“I know why.” She met Tilda’s eyes. “I cannot address the matter at this time. Let the people know I will shortly. For now, I have urgent business to attend to.”
She stepped aside and entered the room. Merryn found the two men sharing a cup of ale as servants pulled the trestle tables from the walls to accommodate those coming in from the fields.
She greeted them and then asked, “Might I have a word with you, my lord?” looking at Symond, who gave her a smile.
“Of course, my lady.” He stood.
“Follow me.”
Merryn took him to a small room that was used to keep the estate’s records. She motioned him in and closed the door behind them.
“Please, have a seat.”
He studied her with interest. “I think not. You have something on your mind, Lady Merryn, and a scroll in hand. I fear I would not have the time to make myself comfortable before I left.”
“You are perceptive indeed, sir.” She handed him the missive. “’Tis meant for the king’s eyes, but I must share with you what I have penned within it.”
He glanced at the scroll. “If ‘tis the king’s business, then I have no need for knowledge of its contents.”
“But you do, Sir Symond. For ‘tis something that involves you.”
He frowned. “Of what do you speak?”
Merryn swallowed. “I have no easy way to give you this news. I know not how you may perceive it, given the circumstances of why you have come to Kinwick. But I think ‘tis best if I speak plainly, so you will have no questions.”
“Go on.”
“My husband . . . he has returned to Kinwick. He was not dead as we feared. I have informed the king of this extraordinary news, and I wish you to deliver it to him at once.” She looked upon him and saw the dawning realization in his eyes at how it affected him personally.
“I know you came here with high hopes of our making a match, but ‘tis impossible now. I hope you can understand that your presence would make Geoffrey uncomfortable once he learned of the true reason you visited. I think it best for you to leave at once to deliver this message.”
Symond seemed lost in thought. Merryn let the silence linger a bit, then she spoke.
“I shall leave you here to collect yourself. I will notify the kitchen to prepare you provisions for the road.” She placed a hand upon his sleeve. “I am sorry your journey here did not
work out as you had planned. I do hope you’ll return as a member of the king’s guard when he comes to call next month. We would be most happy to receive you.”
The knight stood stoically, his jaw firm. “I shall follow the king’s orders. Whatever they may be.” He bowed to her. “I must gather my things and be off, my lady.” He reached for her hand and placed a kiss upon it, his beard tickling her knuckles.
“A fond farewell, Lady Merryn.”
“Godspeed, Sir Symond.”
She watched him exit the room. Her heart ached for him. Here he thought he would soon have a wife. A home. A family and the possibility of more children in the future. And all of that had been torn from him, through no fault of his own.
Merryn walked to the door. Her twins stood in the corridor, their eyes full of questions that she didn’t know how to answer.
She bent and brought them close. She lived for these children. She would make sure that above all else, they would remain safe and happy.
“Come. I must speak to those gathered in the Great Hall.”
CHAPTER 21
Merryn decided she had waited long enough for Geoffrey to return to Kinwick. She had waited through all the years he fostered with Sir Lovel, especially the five years after their betrothal when he’d fought with the English armies in France. She’d spent one glorious night with him before losing him the next afternoon—again, for a space of years.
She refused to bide her time any longer.
She also tired of the castle buzzing with questions about their master’s return. Even the twins had grown tiresome as they begged her to tell more stories of their father and wondered when he would come home to them. Elia alternated between weeping and moping.
Three days of it had driven Merryn to the brink of madness.
Whether Geoffrey liked it or not, she would fetch him home. These past few days stretched almost as long as the years they’d been apart. She would wait no longer. The well-being of her marriage and their family’s future were at stake. ‘Twas time they came together.
She hoped in more ways than one.
Merryn shared with Tilda alone where she headed. She did not need anyone talking her out of her decision or giving her unwanted advice.
She came around the corner and entered the stables, where she had Destiny saddled for her. The stable boy, usually talkative by nature, must have read her mood. He readied her horse without conversation and helped her mount the steed, only wishing her a good day as she rode out.
Merryn made her way through the inner and outer baileys. She signaled for the gate to be opened and rode through with a friendly wave. She hadn’t ridden her horse these past three days, and Destiny itched to gallop. She let the horse have his head. He took off, racing across the meadow.
She heard hoof beats behind her and glanced over her shoulder. Raynor chased her down. She reined in her horse as they reached the edge of the meadow and waited.
He soon pulled up beside her and gave her a withering glance.
“So you’re off to drag him home? And alone, at that.”
Merryn frowned. “He’s my husband, Raynor. And he needs to be at home, surrounded by those who love him.”
“He was at home, Merryn. And he took off again faster than a fox fleeing from the hunt.”
Merryn tamped down her frustration, knowing Raynor only had concern for her. “I refuse to argue with you. I cannot defend his actions. I cannot begin to understand what he has experienced whilst gone from our midst. But I want him home. Now.”
Raynor reached out and put a hand atop hers as it rested on the pommel. “At least let me escort you there. After what happened with Geoffrey at the hunting lodge, I want to make sure you arrive safely.” He gave her a long look. “I don’t know what I—what Kinwick—would do if you vanished while on your mission of mercy.”
She saw his point. Until they learned what occurred at the hunting lodge that day and why Geoffrey disappeared for so long, it would be good to have his escort.
“I shall agree as long as you let me appear in his sight alone. I do not want him to feel trapped nor spooked by my arrival.”
He gave her hand a squeeze. “Whatever you wish, Merryn.”
They rode in silence during their journey. As they neared the clearing where the hunting lodge stood, Merryn’s stomach twisted. She had never returned to the structure after that long-ago day. The thought pained her, even as she saw Mystery tethered to the same spot he had been on that day.
Raynor pulled up his horse, and she did the same.
“I shall wait here for an hour before I return to Kinwick. If Geoffrey refuses to accompany you home, we can return together.” He shook his head. “I hope you know what you are doing.”
“I do.” She gave him a curt nod and spurred Destiny on into the clearing.
Merryn arrived at her destination and climbed from her horse, leading him by the reins. Mystery nickered to them, and she fastened Destiny’s reins next to the other horse. The pit of her stomach sank. She flashed back to the last time both these horses stood together at this very spot. She clutched Destiny’s mane as a wave of nausea overcame her, needing it for support.
It passed after a minute, and she patted the horse fondly. Merryn started toward the building and then heard a noise coming from behind the lodge. She followed it.
She rounded the corner and saw Geoffrey chopping wood. He faced away from her, stripped of his gypon and cote-hardie. She watched the ripple of muscles across his naked back as he swung the ax. Desire stirred within her.
He slammed the ax into a stump of wood and brushed his arm across his forehead. He rubbed his eyes. She thought he looked weary from the task.
Then he stopped, staring at something in the distance. He began walking and then bent down. He picked a single woodland flower and brought it to his nose.
The gesture tore at her heart. Without thought, Merryn ran to him. As she reached him, Geoffrey turned. His eyes lit up, and it suddenly seemed as if no time has passed at all.
Wordlessly, he bowed and offered her the wildflower. Before she could take it, he teased her with it, brushing it lightly under her nose, tickling her. Merryn laughed with joy.
And then stopped.
She saw the heat flame in his eyes as he looked at her. They stood close. Merryn’s eyes swept over his bare chest, glistening with sweat. She reached a hand out and placed it against where his heart beat rapidly.
“Merryn.” His voice, thick with emotion, jolted her. Her knees wobbled. Before she crumbled, Geoffrey pulled her into his arms.
And kissed her.
The kiss wrote their story in a matter of seconds. One of longing and desire. Of want and need. Of greediness and impatience. Merryn tasted a bitter sweetness. The cruelty of their long separation. And the ecstasy of their coming together once again.
Her fingers worked their way into his hair, gripping the wavy locks. His hands roamed her back, went to her hair, caressed her neck and breasts, clutched her waist. They wandered to her back again and cupped her buttocks, pulling her closer.
Geoffrey’s mouth grew more insistent, demanding all her attention, branding her as his. Merryn gave into the kiss with a joyful heart, feeling her husband had truly returned to her.
Without warning, he swept her from her feet. She laughed against his mouth and sensed his own smile. She tightened her arms about his neck as he brought them to the lodge’s door and opened it. He kicked it closed and released her, pressing her against the same door, capturing her wrists and lifting them over her head. He held them high above her, her arms stretched to the ceiling, as his body moved against hers.
His mouth began a new assault on hers, almost as if he went to war and had determined he would be the victor no matter what the cost. Again and again his tongue attacked, thrusting in and out, dominating her.
One hand grabbed both her wrists and enslaved them, freeing his other. Geoffrey dragged it through her long locks, stroking her neck, then finding her breast. He p
almed it, kneading it, as his lips finally tore from hers and trailed down her long, slender neck, sending shivers of delight through her.
Her nether regions pounded fiercely, beating stronger than a drum as his hand moved lower. It moved slowly along her ribcage and then across her stomach before it dropped lower. Geoffrey cupped her through her clothing. Merryn whimpered, the throbbing stronger than anything she’d experienced.
Suddenly, he released her hands, his fingers dancing as he unlaced the side of her surcoat. Within seconds, he’d loosened it and pulled it and her kirtle over her head. Now she wore only her smock and hose. Her shoes had been lost somewhere along the way.
With a gleam in his eye, Geoffrey’s fingers ran along the edge of the smock, dropping to touch the rise of her bare breasts underneath. A shudder ran through Merryn. He bent and kissed the curve, then his lips dropped to her nipple. He licked it, the thin fabric between them. She shuddered again as his teeth teased her nipple, dragging back and forth. She moaned, her fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him closer.
His head lifted a moment as his fingers drew the smock from her shoulders, pulling it to her waist. Once again, his mouth fastened onto her breast, his tongue quick as lightning, driving her to the point of insanity.
Then the smock was tossed aside, and Merryn wore only her hose, gartered at each knee.
“You are more beautiful than before,” Geoffrey told her, awe in his voice. He gazed up and down her body, and Merryn felt the blush rising. She wiggled, uncomfortable at the attention.
“Do not be embarrassed, my love. I only admire your perfection.” He gave her a wicked grin. “And I must partake of that perfection—else I shall perish.”
He quickly doffed what clothes he still wore, and she drank in his body. Her hands ran across his chest, familiarizing herself again with it. They dropped to his erection, and she stroked it. He gasped and pulled her hands away.
“I cannot wait any longer. I must have you, my love.”
Word of Honor (Knights of Valor Book 1) Page 12