"Yes, of course I have. This happened ages ago, Stephen, and it meant nothing to me. It was just a mistake!"
Stephen stepped towards her and brushed a strand of her hair away from her face. "I will not lie to thee. I am disappointed that I am not thy first, but my love for thee remains the same. I am a little shocked, 'tis all." He sighed and placed his hands on her waist. "This knowledge will remain betwixt the two of us – none other shall ever know."
Jenny leaned into him, laying her head against his chest. "I love you, Stephen."
"And I thee. Now we hath no secrets from each other, we can begin this marriage as the good Lord intended." He walked towards the bed, holding her hand in his. "Come hither, wench!"
"You haven't called me that for ages." Jenny smiled softly, relieved now that the truth was out in the open.
"Thou art a wench and wenches need taming." His eyes took on a dark hue and Jenny quickly knew what he intended. Within seconds, Stephen had her over his knee and she soon found her skirts raised. His hand smacked down firmly on her bottom, making her squeal as the sting invaded her senses.
"Aow! That hurts!"
"As it should, milady." Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!
Jenny realised he wasn't spanking her as hard as he usually did. In fact, it felt quite pleasant. Her bottom was stinging, but there was also a warmth beginning in her nether regions. As his hand rose and fell, so her bottom rose up to meet it, craving the feel of his masterful domination. She moaned into the coverlet when he stopped to caress her hot flesh. His hands moved to unlace her dress and before long, she found herself naked in front of him. He turned her over and she watched whilst his eyes devoured her every contour.
"Thou art truly perfect."
He arose from the bed and undressed, quickly joining her, flesh against flesh. Jenny ran her hands over his strong body, loving the feel of his battle-hardened muscles. His lips claimed hers once again, and when his thigh nudged her legs open, she was ready for him. She felt him at her entrance, hard and aroused, ready to claim her for his own.
He moved one of his hands and grabbed her buttocks before thrusting himself into her. Jenny gasped as she adjusted to his size, moaning with pleasure when he began to move his hips rhythmically against her.
Her climax began to build, and Stephen, sensing it, thrust even harder, his solid manhood taking her over the edge.
Jenny's nails dug into his arms when she reached her pinnacle, a thousand stars exploding around her. She arched her back and Stephen slipped a hand underneath her as he kept up a steady rhythm until, with a guttural cry, he released his seed inside her. With a satisfied sigh, he collapsed beside her, pulling her with him, their bodies still joined.
She stroked his face lightly with her fingers, tracing a path along his moustache and down to his beard. He grabbed her hand and brought her fingers up to his mouth, kissing them softly.
"Thou art finally mine, milady. I vow to stay true to thee until the day I die."
"I love you, Stephen." She looked at him, her love shining for him to see.
"And I thee, Jenny. I promise to never let thee go!"
As she laid her head on his chest, Jenny wondered how long she would have with him. Would she ever go back to her own time or was this going to be her new life forever? Now her heart was his, did she really want to go back? The answer was no. But could she prevent it from happening?
Over the next few weeks, Jenny enjoyed every minute as the new Lady of Okehampton Castle. Annie taught her how to make soap and preserve fruits, how to oversee the kitchens properly, and how to make the simplest of potions for common ailments. It was fascinating to see firsthand how life went on in medieval England. And, of course, there was the time she spent with Stephen, every minute cherished in his company. Even the times he'd had to chastise her for misbehaving. She rubbed her bottom at the memory of the strap only two days ago. Her backside still felt tender. Her face quickly softened when she recalled how he'd kissed it better that night, his rough beard tickling the sensitive surface.
She looked up from her tapestry when Stephen came into the Great Hall.
"Jenny, Walter Fitzrou hath arrived to show us our portrait." He strode into the centre of the hall carrying a covered canvas, Walter quickly following.
Walter Fitzrou, the local artist, had been called in to Okehampton Castle at Sir Stephen's behest. He had desired a painting of himself and his new wife to adorn the walls of Okehampton. Never having had her portrait done before, Jenny had been quite excited about the whole event.
"Milady!" Walter nodded to her as he stood beside the covered painting. They'd had several sittings but had not been allowed to see the painting until Walter had finished.
Jenny quickly placed her tapestry on the seat and walked over to them. "I can't wait to see it, Walter!"
Walter beamed and quickly pulled off the covering. Jenny gasped. It was beautiful. Sir Stephen stood proudly, captured in all his magnificence, Jenny by his side, set against a background of forest with Okehampton Castle behind them.
"'Tis wondrous, Walter!" exclaimed Stephen. "Thou art truly a master."
"I thank thee humbly, milord. I take great pleasure in my work."
"Oh, Walter, I love it! It's brilliant," Jenny remarked.
Stephen clapped him on the back. "Come, take some wine with us. We shall hang this portrait this eve in all its glory on yonder wall. Jenny, wouldst thou call for some wine?"
"Yes, milord." Jenny left them together and headed for the kitchens. Now she would always be a part of Okehampton, whether fate dictated she stayed or not.
* * *
The next day...
Jenny was in their chamber brushing her hair when Stephen entered. His face was grim.
"What is it, Stephen?"
He moved towards her, and laying her brush down, pulled her to her feet. "A messenger hath come from the king. I leave for battle tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" gasped Jenny. "But we've been married such a short while! You can't leave now!"
"I am given no choice, Jenny, 'tis my duty."
"How long will you be gone? What if you get hurt? What if you die?"
"Worry not, Jenny. God is on our side, we will not lose." His voice was full of confidence.
"How can you be so certain?" Jenny rounded on him. "Don't you have any regard for your safety?"
Stephen pulled her to him, and she had to strain her neck to look up at his face. "Aye, I do. I wish not to die...especially now I hath found thee. But my duty lies foremost with my king. I hath pledged to serve him, and my place is by his side in battle. If I die, 'twill be with honour."
Jenny's chest swelled with pride. To have such conviction of heart was truly inspiring, and she admired him more for it.
"Promise me you'll be careful." She placed her head on his chest and his huge arms hugged her slight form to his. "And promise you'll return to me."
She felt his lips against her hair, softly moving the silken strands as he spoke. "Aye, Jenny. I promise."
* * *
Four weeks later...
Jenny awoke that day with a feeling that something was wrong. She couldn't put her finger on it, but all day she waited. What for – she knew not. But still she waited. She tried to eat at supper, but her appetite seemed to desert her. Deep in her heart, she knew it was something to do with Stephen. Throwing on a cloak, she climbed the stairs to the parapets and looked out across the fields, searching for a clue to her feeling of impending doom.
A cloud of dust appeared on the horizon and Jenny strained her eyes to see who it was. It was a lone rider – a messenger. He was riding fast, the horse's hooves tearing up the turf in his haste. Jenny watched as the guards allowed him entrance into the castle, her body refusing to move for fear of what news he might herald.
Somehow, she found the courage to make her way to the Great Hall. She could hear voices inside. Taking a deep breath, she entered the room.
As soon as she saw the messenger, her heart sank. The
look on his face said it all. She stepped forward and searched his face. "What is it? What's happened?"
"We won the battle, milady, but there were many casualties." He looked down to the ground and back up to her. "There were many that gave their life, milady. Sir Stephen was one of them."
Jenny felt as though her heart had been ripped from her body. "A-Are you sure it was him? Couldn't it have been someone else?"
The messenger shook his head. "Nay, milady. The king gave me this to give to thee." He handed her Stephen's signet ring. She swayed when he placed it in her hand and stared down at it, her eyes blurring with tears. "But he can't be dead. He can't be!"
Annie, her own tears beginning to fall, immediately came to her side. "Milady, come sit by the fire. The shock hath been great."
She allowed Annie to lead her to a chair and collapsed into it. Stephen was gone? Her Stephen? The man who'd captured her heart. It couldn't be. The messenger must be wrong, surely? She looked at the ring held in her palm and realised that he was speaking the truth. Stephen had died in battle.
Closing her eyes, she curled her fingers around the ring and held it to her bosom. The tears flowed as she bowed her head and sobbed her heart out. Life was too cruel.
* * *
Later that night...
Jenny climbed the last steps towards the parapets and opened the door. A strong wind hit her when she stepped out into the night, buffeting her small body around as though she were no lighter than a feather. It took all her strength to walk out onto the stone walkway, but she was determined.
"You promised!" Jenny raised her face to the heavens angrily, her voice shouting above the wind. "You promised you'd return...you lied to me!" Her voice shook with emotion. She dropped to her knees and buried her face in her hands, sobbing.
The wind rose and rain drops began to spatter the ground around her. She heeded it not; her grief too great to care.
This was not her time. She shouldn't have even been there. But fate had thrown her into the thirteenth century and into Stephen's path. Deep inside, she knew she'd found her soul mate and now he had been cruelly taken away from her.
Slowly, she stood up. The rain pelted her body, plastering her skirts to her slight frame. Her hair whipped about her face as the strong wind continued to blow against her. She walked to the edge of the parapet and looked down, her body swaying as she braced herself against the stormy weather. It was far. If she fell, would anyone care? Would she care? Her eyes blurred with tears whilst she moved one foot partially over the edge. Stephen was gone – what had she left to live for? Trying to get back to her own time had proved fruitless. Everything she'd tried hadn't worked. Just when she'd resigned herself to living in this century with the man she loved – he had been taken from her. She looked despairingly into the dark night and stepped off the ledge.
Chapter Eight
Jenny opened her eyes slowly and then closed them again when a searing pain shot through her temples. Was she still alive? Why was everything so quiet? Where had the storm gone, and why was the sun shining?
She heard footsteps running along the ground towards her and then a voice calling her name.
"Jenny? Jenny, are you okay?"
Her eyes shot open. It was Seth. Seth? She turned to look at him, just as he reached down to touch her.
"Lie still. Your head's bleeding. What did you do?"
In a slight state of shock, Jenny answered truthfully. "I don't know! I fell and then ended up here."
"Honestly, Jen! Stealing apples is one thing, but you don't have to knock yourself out over it."
"Apples?" For a moment, she was puzzled and then she remembered what she'd been doing when she'd first disappeared. She struggled to sit up, but Seth stopped her.
"Careful, Jen! That's quite a cut you've got on your head."
She raised her hand and felt a lump. When she pulled her fingers away, there was blood on them. Her head throbbed like crazy. She wiped her hand on her clothes and realised she was back in her original attire: jeans – and they were dry.
"Seth, how long have I been gone?"
Seth frowned. "What do you mean?"
"How long have I been away?"
"If you mean how long have I been chasing you...about ten minutes, why? Are you feeling okay? Jen? Jen?"
Jen went ashen and lay perfectly still, not talking or moving. All that time with Stephen, all those months, and yet Seth had only missed her for ten minutes, if that. What had happened? Was it a concussion? But it had all seemed so real. She began to tremble violently as shock set in.
Seth quickly pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around her body. "I'm taking you to the doctor's. Can you walk okay, do you think?"
"I-I think so."
He helped her up and she leaned on him for support as he led her out of the graveyard.
At the local hospital, the doctor checked her over, declaring that the cut on her head would need a few stitches but, other than that, she was fine. When the doctor had finished and she'd been discharged, Seth led her back to his car.
She leaned her head on the upholstery and closed her eyes, waiting for Seth to get in the driver's seat.
"What am I going to do with you, Jenny Peverel?" He stared at her intently. "There I was, intent on giving you a good thrashing and what happens? You end up in hospital!"
Jenny smiled tremulously. "Something happened to me, Seth, whilst I was unconscious. I need time to think it over. My head's spinning. Do you mind not coming in when you drop me off?"
"No, not at all, although, I'll give you a call this afternoon from work to see how you are, if that's okay with you?"
Jenny nodded and looked out of the window whilst he turned on the engine and drove the car out of the hospital grounds. Once home, he helped her inside, and satisfied that she was settled, he left her, promising to call later.
Jenny sat at the kitchen table and placed her face in her hands. What the hell had happened to her? And what about Stephen? How could she live without him? But was he real, or a figment of her imagination? Sighing heavily, she walked to the bathroom and ran the water for a hot bath. It felt odd to be in her jeans again after wearing the long, medieval dresses.
When the bath was run, she undressed and placed her clothes in the wash basket. As she moved away, she gasped. There, on her wrist, was the bracelet Stephen had given her. She sat down with a thump on the bathroom chair and stared at it in shock, hardly daring to touch it. Slowly, she ran her fingers over it. It was real enough. The thin, leather band was his token of his love for her. The tears slipped down her cheeks as she sobbed at his loss.
Early the next morning, Seth popped round to see how she was feeling. She opened the door and stepped back, allowing him to enter.
"You don't look like you slept too well," he noted, taking in the dark circles beneath her eyes.
"No. I didn't." She walked towards the kitchen. "Do you want a coffee?"
"Yes. You go and sit down and I'll make it."
"Don't fuss, Seth. Just because I didn't sleep well doesn't mean I'm not capable of making a simple coffee," she bit back.
She immediately found herself pulled towards the lounge. "That wasn't me asking – that was an order. Sit!"
Jenny rolled her eyes. He was just as overbearing as Stephen. Her heart saddened when she thought of her lost love. What would she do without him?
Lost in her own misery, she didn't notice Seth until he was seated opposite. "You really don't look well. Perhaps you should stay in bed today. If you're a good girl, I'll buy you a take away." He tried to coax a smile from her.
His kindness was her undoing. She burst into tears, and Seth quickly gathered her into his strong arms, not saying a word. When her sobs had quietened to small hiccoughs, Seth spoke.
"Did that help?"
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
"Come on, let's get you in bed and you can get some sleep that it seems you never managed last night."
He led her to
the bedroom and tucked her into bed. She smiled. "Thanks, Seth."
He smiled back at her. "I'll pop back this evening with a Chinese meal. I know what you like, so I'll order a nice selection. Be good and get some rest!"
Her only answer was a half-hearted smile. He left her alone, and she drifted off into a deep sleep, the sobbing having served as a temporary catharsis for her soul.
Two days later and Jenny was much recovered from her fall, although her heart was still heavy. She was still at a loss as to what had actually happened to her or why, but she knew that she must revisit the church. The answer must lie there, somewhere.
It was early morning, and there was a slight mist from the heavy rain that had fallen during the night, creating an eerie ambience as she walked along the lane. The church came into view, and she approached it nervously. If she could just find one clue to give her peace of mind and not think she was going crazy, she could cope. As it stood at the moment, she felt she was on the verge of madness.
She reached the gate, opened it, walked inside the graveyard and stood still.
Everything was quiet. The mist slid between the old gravestones, its silky tendrils caressing the cold, stone slabs as it swirled around her feet. In the distance, a crow shrieked, piercing the silence and making Jenny jump. She clutched her chest with fright. When she got her breath back, she began to walk towards the church door. Dare she enter? What if she went back in time again? Trembling, she reached for the latch and tried to lift it. It was locked. Somewhat relieved, she leaned her head against the door and released her breath, not realising until then that she'd been holding it.
She turned around and looked at the gravestones. Perhaps there lay a clue. Slowly, she walked between the graves, searching out the very old ones, when suddenly she stopped dead in her tracks. It was Stephen's name.
She leaned down and ran her fingers over the engraving on the gravestone, Stephen de Bressard, born 1235 deceased 1277. She gasped. He was real. Lichen covered most of the words below, and she frantically ran her hands over the rough surface, scraping it away until she could read the engraved words.
A Knight to Remember Page 10