Journey to Honor

by Alexa Aston

  Shock reverberated through Kenric. His thoughts whirled like a strong wind and he gripped his knees till his knuckles turned white. Finally, he asked, “Did Roland say how long he’d known the truth?”

  “Since childhood.”

  Kenric tried to think back. So many times Roland had lorded over him, a sly look in his eye. This had been a great secret for a young child to keep. His brother proved stronger than Kenric had thought.

  One questioned burned within him, though. “Did he say if my mother knew?”

  Doria gave him a sad look. “Roland said Gussalen told only him. That no one else knew—not even your lady mother. The birth had been a great strain on her and she was unaware of the order her boys came out.” She shuddered. “My husband swore me to secrecy. He said our son would follow him as the next earl. Then the secret would die, with you never being the wiser.

  “But I can live like this no longer. Lady Juliana is dead. Gussalen, too. And though she could have verified this abomination, that old witch loved Roland with a passion. If confronted, she never would have betrayed her pet in that manner.”

  “So Roland knows,” Kenric said, still finding Doria’s words almost too fantastic to believe.

  “He does,” his sister-in-law asserted. “It’s why I sent for you—and a priest. Roland must confess to God of his crime against you. You must have your birthright returned to you, my lord. Shadowfaire should be yours.”

  Kenric stood and found his legs unsteady, his hands trembling.

  Then Avelyn came to stand by him. She took his hands in hers and gazed into his eyes. Her warmth flooded him, racing through his veins, giving him strength and courage for what lay ahead.

  “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

  She released one of his hands and placed a single finger against his lips. Desire burned in him at her touch.

  “Do not apologize. Go now with Lady Doria. Confront your twin and put your demons to rest.”

  He captured her hand in his, turning it upward and pressing a searing kiss into her palm. He sensed the shiver run through her. Kenric longed to take Avelyn into his arms and kiss her senseless, but Roland awaited them in the next chamber. Kenric gave Avelyn a reassuring smile, but he knew long ago that he had given this woman his heart. He looked over to Lord Geoffrey and saw the nobleman wore a satisfied look.

  Doria touched Avelyn’s sleeve. “I fear that heated words will be exchanged between these two brothers and I don’t want Wymund to be frightened. Would you keep him safe for me while we are gone?”

  “It would be my pleasure.” She took the sleeping babe into her arms.

  Kenric could only stare. Avelyn holding a child looked like the most natural thing in the world. In that moment, he knew he wanted to marry her more than anything. He wanted to spend his life with her and plant his seed deep within her. Kenric longed to see her belly grow and then watch her nurse their child at her breast.

  Lord Geoffrey stepped next to him. “It’s like being struck by lightning,” he murmured.

  Kenric slowly nodded. “I see so clearly now, what’s been before my eyes all this time. I love your niece, my lord, with my heart and mind and soul. She completes me.”

  “She has loved you always. Merryn and I knew this from the time you stopped at Kinwick when you escorted her from London. I’m only glad that you realized it before you became an old man,” he teased. “Now go. Speak with your brother. No matter what the outcome, you have a strong, intelligent, capable woman who waits for you.”

  Kenric tore his eyes from Avelyn reluctantly as he watched Doria open the door to the solar. She ushered in the priest that he recognized from his mother’s funeral mass.

  Doria brought the man over and said, “This is Father John, my lord. I’ve made my confession to him. He knows that Wymund is Sir Heymon’s son and that my husband ordered me to break my marriage vows and lay with another man.” She paused. “I have also shared what I learned from Roland regarding your birthright. Father, this is Lord Kenric Fairfax, the Earl of Shadowfaire, and Lord Geoffrey de Montfort of Kinwick, along with his niece, Lady Avelyn.”

  Kenric nodded at the priest, Doria’s words ringing in his ears.

  He was the Earl of Shadowfaire.

  He could surrender to bitterness—but that would change nothing. Instead, Kenric decided he must live in the present and look to the future. His brother would no longer have power over him.

  “You’ll be welcomed back to your home, my lord,” Father John said. “I’ve heard from others who live at Shadowfaire and they thought highly of you as a boy. I believe you will make a fine earl for your people.”

  “Thank you, Father.”

  “Then shall we make our way to see Lord Roland?” Father John led the way with Doria and Kenric following him.

  Before he crossed into the bedchamber, Kenric looked over his shoulder. Avelyn gave him a brilliant smile that filled him with confidence.

  The room smelled of death. A few candles burned next to the bed. An elderly servant stood and gave a brief nod before skirting past them. Kenric assumed she’d been left to tend to Roland in case he needed anything.

  His eyes fell to his twin. Kenric’s jaw clenched as he saw the bag of bones lying there, swallowed by the bedclothes. Roland looked as if he’d aged a score in the few months since Kenric had seen him. His thinning hair was streaked with gray and plastered to his scalp. No color rested in his sunken cheeks. His cracked lips were split and bloodied. The rest of him looked as if a skeleton had bits of flesh wrapped about it. Always thin to the point of frailty, Roland had wasted away, a victim of this latest illness.

  Doria went to stand on the opposite side of the bed from the priest. Kenric remained at the foot as Father John opened the vial of consecrated oil. Though Roland’s eyes burned brightly with fever, he said nothing.

  “I have come to give you extreme unction, my lord. Through this holy sacrament, the gift of the Holy Spirit is given to you in grace. ’Twill renew your faith in God and give you the strength, peace, and courage to endure these last minutes as death approaches.”

  Roland merely glared at the man of God—and then turned his angry gaze upon Kenric.

  In that moment, as their eyes met, Kenric absorbed all of the hate his brother hurled at him. Kenric realized that Roland, knowing he was the second born son, had never believed himself worthy or adequate of the role Gussalen thrust him into on the night of the brothers’ birth. Roland had tried to play a part for which he wasn’t destined and still clung to it now, even as he stood at Death’s door.

  A peace descended upon Kenric. Roland had merely been a child when Gussalen divulged her dirty secret to him. His twin was a pawn in the game perpetuated by that evil woman. Kenric knew that, despite being denied his birthright, he’d already lived a full, interesting life, one of no regrets and great adventure.

  And soon to be one filled with love—with Avelyn.

  Father John continued now in Latin. Kenric translated the words in his head as the priest anointed the seven parts of Roland’s body as he spoke.

  “Through this holy unction and His own most tender mercy, may the Lord pardon thee whatever sins or faults thou hast committed by sight, by hearing, by smell, by taste, by touch, by walking, by carnal delectation.”

  The priest resealed the vial of consecrated oil and set it aside. He placed a hand over Roland’s and said in English, “As a Christian, you must die confessed so that you are absolved of your sins. Ease your burden, my lord, and speak of your sins.”

  His twin ignored the priest and focused on Kenric. “You know,” he croaked, his voice sounding rusty with disuse.

  “Aye,” Kenric replied.

  Roland glanced to Doria, a sneer on his face. “So much for trusting you, my lady.”

  “Your sins, my lord,” Father John prompted again. “You go soon to Paradise. Shrug off the mantle of sin and arrive at the gates of Heaven—”

  “I’ll never enter those gates, Father,” Roland wheezed. “I’ve
lived a life of sin and taken pride in it.”

  “But your Heavenly Father forgives all of that, my lord. You have only to admit to wrongdoing and He will welcome you into His loving arms.”

  Roland coughed violently. Blood dribbled down his chin, mixed with a black mucus.

  Kenric knew that Roland would never admit to the truth. And if he didn’t, Wymund—his son by law—would become the next Earl of Shadowfaire.

  He saw the crooked smile cross his brother’s face and knew his guess proved correct. Even as he hovered between life and death, Roland would best him.

  The trio hovered over the bed as Roland’s labored breathing finally ceased minutes later. Kenric turned away in disgust and disappointment. He left the bedchamber, frustrated and angry that his brother had the last word.

  Doria and Father John joined him. She took Wymund and sat, silently weeping. Avelyn came and wrapped her arms about Kenric.

  The priest looked at Doria, shaking his head sadly. “I only worry about my lady and her reputation, not to mention the cloud young Wymund will grow up under, being called a bastard—or worse.”

  “If I may speak, Father?” Lord Geoffrey said, turning to Doria. “My lady, I know you don’t wish to stay at Shadowfaire.”

  “Nay, my lord. I would be most uncomfortable living here.”

  “Then may I offer a suggestion? I’m always in need of good men. I would offer you and Sir Heymon a home at Kinwick. It’s a wonderful place to raise a child. Unless you prefer—”

  “Thank you most kindly, Lord Geoffrey. I would speak to Heymon of it, but he will do whatever it takes to make me happy.” She paused. “But how am I to leave Shadowfaire when my son is now its heir and the new earl? I fear I’m forever trapped.”

  Geoffrey raised a hand. “I’m sorry to inform you that your infant son caught the same fever your husband had and that neither of them survived. Being heartbroken at these deaths, you have decided to enter a convent. Immediately.”

  Kenric understood what Geoffrey de Montfort suggested. He watched understanding dawn on Doria’s face.

  “So I would leave Shadowfaire and let its people think I go to a convent—when, instead, I would come to live at Kinwick with my new husband and son?” Her smile lit up the room.

  Geoffrey glanced to Kenric. “Is that a suitable plan, my lord?” he asked.

  Kenric turned to the priest. “Only if Father John agrees.”

  The priest nodded. “I see no harm in this. Lord Kenric is the true Earl of Shadowfaire. This will allow Lady Doria to marry her child’s father and escape to a new life.”

  “Then we have much planning to do,” Kenric said, taking charge. He glanced down at Avelyn, his arms still about her. “And my bride-to-be will be my first and best adviser.”

  Chapter 27

  They arrived in London a day behind schedule due to their sojourn at Shadowfaire. Avelyn tried to calm her nerves, knowing that, in a short while, they would be before the queen. The first person they saw inside the palace was Lord Sewell Talbot, who greeted them with a surprised glance as he gazed at Kenric.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here, Sir Kenric. How did my son fare on the road?”

  Kenric said, “Drew made the trip an interesting one, my lord. He’s quite a talkative lad. Before I departed Sandbourne, he’d already made a few friends.”

  Geoffrey added, “We called at Shadowfaire on our way to London. The earl passed away from a fever and Sir Kenric is now Lord Kenric—the new earl.”

  Lord Sewell offered Kenric his hand. “My congratulations.” He glanced over at Avelyn. “Something tells me you will soon have a new countess by your side.”

  Avelyn’s cheeks grew warm at his gaze. “If the queen releases me from her service and allows the betrothal, you will be correct, my lord. We have an appointment with her this afternoon.”

  “She and the king came back in the best of moods. All went well on their summer progress, especially at the last estate they called upon.” Sewell looked to Geoffrey. “In fact, it was your cousin they visited at Ashcroft, Lord Raynor and his lovely wife, Lady Beatrice.”

  Geoffrey laughed. “I knew they planned to stop there. Raynor rode to Kinwick a month before the royal visit and pumped Merryn for information. What their favorite dishes were. The way the king liked his mattress stuffed. I’m glad that Raynor absorbed the cost of a royal stay. I’ve done so multiple times.”

  “I wish you good luck in your conversation with the queen,” Sewell told them. “And do not worry. I took care of the other matter.”

  Avelyn and Alys returned to the chamber they’d shared during her time at court. Alys called for hot water and helped Avelyn lay out the kirtle and cotehardie she wanted to wear for her audience with the queen. Both were of a dark blue with slashes of lighter blue that brought out the color in Avelyn’s eyes.

  She glanced at her bed. Despite Lord Sewell’s assurances, she decided to check for herself. Avelyn ran a hand under the mattress and then lifted it to assure herself the queen’s stolen necklace was no longer in her possession. She also checked her drawers, looking for anything that Sela might have placed in them. Thankfully, she found only her own belongings.

  Avelyn washed away the stains of the travel and then Alys helped her to dress. She allowed the girl to brush her hair till it shone and then let her plait it, weaving blue ribbons through it before tying one at the end of the long braid.

  “I’m happy you finally found out Lady Sela was up to no good,” her cousin said as she embraced her. “I wouldn’t worry about the queen. She adores Mother and Father.”

  Avelyn nodded and ventured to the queen’s rooms. During her long walk, she thought how well everything had turned out. They’d stayed for Lord Roland’s funeral mass. The people of Shadowfaire believed his young son buried in his father’s arms, but the healer who had aided Lady Doria had been privy to their plans. She awaited them, along with Sir Heymon, a half-hour from Shadowfaire, tiny Wymund in a basket. The healer returned to the estate, while Heymon and Doria took their young son to Kinwick.

  They’d all met with Merryn, sharing the complicated tale with her. She was delighted to take the new family under her wing and sent immediately for Father Dannet. The priest married the couple that very day. Avelyn remembered the love reflected on Heymon’s and Doria’s faces as they waved goodbye to the escort party bound for London. It brought Avelyn a sense of peace.

  She arrived and found her uncle and Kenric in conversation with Lady Agnes, the queen’s head lady-in-waiting. Both men had changed clothes, Geoffrey to hunter green and Kenric to dark brown. His hazel eyes appeared greener as he gazed at her in admiration.

  “Greetings, Lady Avelyn,” Agnes said. “I was telling your uncle that the queen has decided to take a turn in her gardens. She missed them, as usual, and asked for you to meet her there.”

  “I can show you the way,” she told Kenric and Geoffrey, leading them through the Palace of Westminster until they reached the outside.

  They continued on to the gardens. Avelyn’s heart began pounding when she spied Queen Philippa seated on a bench, basking in the warm sun.

  Geoffrey said to Kenric, “Stay here, my lord. We will call you over if it’s necessary.”

  Kenric looked at her and Avelyn’s confidence soared. He winked at her, causing her heart to skip a beat.

  “Are you ready?” Geoffrey offered her his arm and they went to meet the queen.

  It surprised Avelyn that she sat alone. Usually, many ladies-in-waiting hovered nearby. They approached her and Geoffrey discreetly cleared his throat.

  The queen opened her eyes and awarded them with a gracious smile. Geoffrey bowed to her while Avelyn made her curtsey.

  “Rise. Take a seat. Lady Avelyn, sit next to me. Lord Geoffrey, you may sit there.” She indicated another bench to her right.

  They did as she requested.

  “I must say you look younger than when I last saw you, your highness. The country air has done you good this summe
r.”

  Philippa bit back a smile. “You’ve never been a flatterer, Geoffrey de Montfort. It’s one of the reasons I actually like you.”

  Geoffrey smiled. “I only tell the truth, your grace.”

  “And I shall do the same.” She turned to Avelyn. “Did your sister have her child?”

  “Aye, a fine boy named David, your grace. Everyone at Sandbourne has fallen madly in love with him.”

  The queen smiled. “Children have a way of doing so. Did you enjoy your visit? You seem older to me. More confident.”

  Avelyn swallowed. “While I enjoyed being in your service, I’ve realized how much I love the country.”

  “You’ve fallen in love, I’d daresay.” The queen studied her. “I know that glow.” She looked around. “I suppose that handsome young nobleman standing over there is the reason for it?”

  “Aye, your grace,” Avelyn admitted. “He is Lord Kenric Fairfax, Earl of Shadowfaire.”

  “Hmm.” Philippa eyed Kenric carefully and then motioned him over.

  Avelyn watched Kenric come toward them and her heart almost burst with love.

  He bowed low to the queen.

  “Have a seat, young man,” she ordered brusquely.

  Kenric sat next to Geoffrey.

  “So, Lord Geoffrey, I believe you’re here to tell me I no longer have to hunt for the perfect match for your niece.”

  “That’s correct, your majesty.”

  “Even though I thought I’d found the ideal man for Lady Avelyn.”

  Panic swelled through her. Her nails dug into her palms.

  The queen laid a hand atop Avelyn’s. “Never fear, my dear. No contract has been drawn up. I haven’t even spoken to this man. If you remember, I told you we’d speak again when you returned to court.” She looked from Avelyn to Kenric and back again.

  “Lord Geoffrey, as head of the de Montfort family, you have the final decision in the suitability of this match. I yield to any decision you make.”

  Her uncle smiled. “I believe that Lord Kenric and Lady Avelyn are meant to wed,” he explained. “They are a love match.”