by Kris Tualla
“Vizcondesa Mendoza?”
Avery turned toward the voice.
“Padre James!” She dipped in a small, respectful curtsy before reaching out her hands.
The elder priest took her hands in his, his skin thin and mapped with blue veins. “I am so very happy for you, my lady. When I sent word of your husband’s imminent death, I had no idea what sort of miracle God was working on your behalf.”
Avery’s cheeks warmed. “Do you believe Sir Hansen is a miracle?”
The priest smiled. “Do you not?” He tucked her hand into his elbow. “Come, child. Let us join the groom.”
Padre James led her toward a chapel on one side of the transept. “The Order of the Golden Fleece is still in session, I am afraid, so our noon masses are held in the Chapel of the Virgin.”
When they rounded the corner, Avery stopped walking, the vision of her nearly-husband claiming her ability to breathe.
Jakob turned to face her. He wore her favorite blue velvet and pearl-pleated tunic under the black cape of the Order. His hose were dark gray, and his tall black boots gleamed with polish.
His red-gold hair was combed back from his face, revealing his broad brow, high cheekbones, and eyes that matched the blue of his garment. The Order’s heavy golden collar glinted in the cathedral’s ever-present candlelight.
Askel had completed his valet’s job to perfection.
Jakob’s deep voice was soft, but it still made her body tremble. “Min dame, du er fantastisk.” My lady, you are stunning.
Avery opened her fan and demurely covered the bottom half of her face. “Takk, min herre.” Thank you, my lord.
Padre James walked her forward. “Sit here, my lady, until you are called up to participate.”
Avery sat on the bench on the left side of the aisle. Jakob sat on the bench on the right. Only then did she notice Percival and the other handful of knights scattered across the front two benches. Askel sat a row behind them next to Denys, and grinning like a fool.
A warm voice tickled her ear. “You look beautiful, my lady. God bless you.”
Avery turned around and met Maria’s eyes. “Thank you.”
Then her gaze shifted and blurred. The remaining household staff from her stripped estate entered and sat behind her in the chapel.
“How did you all—”
“Sir Hansen, of course,” Maria chastised. “He said that you must have people here who care for you, not only for him.”
Avery looked at Jakob, beaming at her across the aisle.
“Jeg elsker deg,” she whispered. I love you.
“Jeg elsker deg, også,” he replied in kind.
*****
Jakob stared at the priest, but he did not hear a single word of the mass. He hoped that he did not miss his moment—certainly the priest would not allow him to—but he was completely unable to corral his thoughts. He had never seen Avery look so beautiful and, considering the lady’s multitude of attributes, this was quite an accomplishment, indeed.
Today she wore a deep red brocaded gown with a black-and-red silk head covering shot through with gold threads. Three strands of multi-colored pearls twisted through her hair, echoing the dark, narrow braids which were looped and pinned behind her ear.
The black Spanish lace fan was a perfect veil.
Lord Father, how did You manage to bless me so?
This wedding was a miracle, that much was clear. Jakob never expected his commission to visit London before proceeding to the Order to result in either his reprieve from past guilt or the discovery of new love.
While his first reaction to the assignment was disappointment, he now thanked God every night that King Christian tapped him for the unusual task.
Diego de Mendoza, sitting on Jakob’s right, leaned toward him. “You are a lucky man, Hansen. I hope you understand this.”
Jakob slid his gaze to Diego’s. “I owe your cousin a debt of gratitude,” he whispered. “If he had ever made her the least bit happy, she would not become mine today.”
Diego chuckled and cleared his throat, giving the presiding priest a solemn nod.
“Sir Hansen.” The priest’s tone was stern as he repeated the previously unheard summons.
Jakob rose to his feet, noting that Avery was already standing. He offered her his arm and then the couple stepped forward. Percival materialized by his right elbow.
The priest continued the mass with Jakob and Avery doing their part. When he reached the section where they were to make their vows, Jakob repeated the priest’s words while he slid the braided silver ring back onto Avery’s finger.
Though he offered to buy her a new ring for the wedding, she declined.
“You may do so on our first anniversary,” she stated. “Assuming we are not homeless and destitute, of course.”
The mass continued until, finally, Jakob and Avery were declared married in the sight of God and the Church. He looked down into her nearly-black eyes, wanting to sweep her up in his arms and carry her to straight to his bed, the wedding dinner forgone.
For now, he must be satisfied with a chaste kiss.
The Spanish knights Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, Alvaro de Zuniga y Guzman, and Pietro Antonio San Severino were joining Jakob and Percival back at their leased palazzo for the celebratory meal though, of course, neither Askel nor any of Avery’s servants would be joining them at the table.
“I only wish Catherine could have been here.” Avery’s voice was breathless between their no-longer-chaste kisses in the carriage. She sat across his lap and Jakob knew by the way she wiggled her bottom that she felt his desire rise beneath her, even through her layers of skirts and underskirts.
She bit his earlobe. “Soon, my love.”
Jakob groaned. “I hope I live that long.”
*****
The midday meal was served in seven long courses for Jakob, Avery, Percival, and the three Spanish knights. Avery ate lightly—her stomach was jumpy enough in anticipation of bedding Jakob for the first time.
She wondered if she would still remember what to do in the marital bed a decade after refusing her first husband… But then, that man never was a good lover. Perhaps she should forget those unhappy experiences and start her lessons anew.
Jakob, Avery was convinced, would be a very good lover if their sport in London was an indication.
The knights rose to their feet as one.
“We shall take our leave, Vizcondesa Averia de Hansen,” Diego stated. “Thank you for a wonderful meal, and congratulations once again in your marriage.”
Avery startled at the name, then recovered her scant composure. “Thank Señor Mendoza. Your words mean quite a lot to me.”
Percival circled around the end of the table and lifted her hand to his lips. “The best man has won, my lady. I concede graciously.”
Avery laughed. “It is high time for that, good sir.”
Percy looked at Jakob. “I will make my exit as well, and return two days hence to see you off.”
Jakob was clearly surprised. “Where are you going?”
“I am leaving the palazzo to give you and your bride some well-deserved privacy. And—” Percival placed a palm over his heart. “I am afraid my broken heart must be mended.”
Jakob chuckled. “I assume you have a candidate in mind to assist with the repairs?”
“Several.” Percy winked. “Do not worry about me.”
Avery felt a rush of relief. While she never had feelings for the English knight, the idea of him sleeping in the same house on her and Jakob’s wedding night definitely felt awkward.
Jakob nuzzled her ear. “We are alone, wife.”
Avery turned into his embrace.
*****
Jakob lay on his back, panting, his limbs thrown wide and his groin still throbbing with fading pleasure. The sun painted the sky outside his bedroom chamber in brilliant yellows and oranges, the gathering clouds responding in reds and purples. Even the heavens were celebrating with them.
&
nbsp; Thank you, Father. Again.
Avery snuggled close, her breasts pressed to his side, and her knee resting between his thighs. Every time she exhaled, a soft moan escaped with her breaths.
“I was afraid I had forgotten how…” she murmured.
Jakob would have laughed if he had any strength left.
“That is why the second time was important,” he said with false solemnity. “To confirm that we both remembered the process adequately.”
Avery reached up and turned his face toward hers. “If you remembered any more adequately, you might be a widower once again.”
Jakob did chuckle at that. “Swived to death on your wedding day? That would certainly assure my reputation with the ladies.”
Avery pinched his freshly shaved jaw. “I have been married once to a man who had a reputation with the ladies. I have no care for another.”
Jakob shifted onto his side to face her. “You are the only lady I will ever love, or lay with, for the rest of my life, Avery.”
She gave him a sultry smile. “And I with you as well, Jakob.”
Though they had exchanged similar vows in the mass, these statements made now, tangled in his sheets, naked and floating in post-coital bliss, solidified their marriage in his soul.
“I love you. More than I can say in words, my wife.”
Avery kissed him softly, her lips still swollen and smudged with their play. “Your body said it quite eloquently, husband. Both times.”
Jakob grinned at her, his core still quivering. “Then this is the language I will continue to use.”
Avery rolled onto her back and ran her palms over her body in invitation. “And you always said you were good with languages…”
March 21, 1519
The dawn approached slowly, a fact that Avery was quite grateful for. She slept very well these last two nights—once the time for sleep was finally reached.
Neither she nor Jakob anticipated the overwhelming intensity of their desires for each other, as both admitted that they had determinedly tamped those longings down for many years under their previous circumstances.
Now married, and freed from their respective pasts, all of those denied yearnings erupted like a volcano. Since their wedding forty hours ago, Avery estimated that they had spent less than eight of those hours outside of Jakob’s chambers.
Today she and Jakob were closing the door on Barcelona, her widowhood, and the Order of the Golden Fleece, and beginning their month-long journey to London.
The first of three cities which they needed to visit, Avery was surprised to realize that returning to England would actually feel like going home to her. She was also anxious to see Catherine again and determine how her friend was recovering from her duet of devastations.
“We will not stay in London for long, will we, husband,” she said drowsily, stretching languorously before leaving their cozy linen cocoon.
“Not this time.” Jakob’s voice was rough with remnants of sleep. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I want to get to Arendal and finish my duties there as quickly as possible.”
Avery sat up as well and hugged her sheet-shrouded knees, reluctant to end their newly-wedded intimacy and reenter the world at large. “Perhaps you will find the situation less fraught than you expect.”
Jakob cast a bleary gaze over his shoulder. “If my mother is the only member of my family who wishes to see me, then my brothers and father—if he is still alive—will assure that we are made miserable while we reside there.”
Avery lifted one resolute brow. “If that is the case, we shall simply leave. And then, you will no longer have reason to feel guilty for leaving them in the first place.”
Jakob twisted to face fully her. “How do you know I feel guilty?”
“You went against your father’s wishes and caused a rift in your family.” Avery straightened her legs. The sheet fell to her lap, exposing her breasts. Jakob’s gaze dropped briefly and his lips twitched.
Avery continued when he looked up at her eyes once more. “And though you were correct in your point, and tried as best you could to keep the rift from forming, it grew nonetheless. You cannot help but feel responsible.”
“You are a very wise woman.” His lips twitched again. “Perhaps I should marry you.”
Avery laughed. “I am sorry, sir, but at the moment I am quite happily espoused.”
Jakob leaned closer. “If he ever mistreats you in any way, or worse, ignores you, you must inform me immediately.”
Avery dipped her chin. “And what will you do, Sir Knight?”
“I shall thrash him within an inch of his life, so that as long as he lives, he treats you the way you deserve to be treated.”
Jakob’s lips landed on hers and claimed them thoroughly. After a sound kissing, he groaned and pulled away. “We must be off now, wife. Or we shall never leave.”
*****
Avery and Zurina—who would return to Spain once the couple reached London—sat in the wagon on a bench made of trunks and covered with blankets. Beefeater Henry had shown enough forethought to procure a canopy, so that the women were protected from too much sun, or any light rains they might encounter.
Jakob rode Warrior, whose prancing behavior made it clear that the stallion was anxious to leave the confines of city life. Askel followed behind, riding a spare draft horse.
“We shall make good distances, sir,” Henry told Jakob once the journey began. “The coins and trunks were over seven hundred pounds all told, so our load is lightened by half.”
“How long will it take to reach Bilbao?”
“It’s almost four hundred miles. While we might make forty miles a day at this pace, I would plan on about twelve days.”
Jakob nodded his acknowledgement and grinned at Avery. He was uncertain how she would react to leaving Barcelona, and was surprised by how unaffected she appeared.
After hugging Maria goodbye, Avery climbed into the wagon dry-eyed and smiling.
“I only lived in Barcelona for five miserable years,” she reminded him when he asked. “In truth, I was more tearful when I was forced to return, than either time I have left.”
“And what about leaving Spain?” he pressed.
Avery thought about that a moment. Jakob noted a variety of emotions flicker through her expression.
“I am not sorrowful, I must admit this. But then, I am leaving for a much happier reason this time.” She smiled up at him and he felt as if he was drowning in the dark pools of her exotic eyes. “I am not escaping a life with a terrible husband. I am joining my life with a cherished one.”
Jakob reached for her hand. “Jeg elsker deg.”
She squeezed his in return. “Jeg elsker deg også.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
April 19, 1519
London, England
The last time Jakob sailed up the Thames, he had nothing but questions about his future. How odd and unexpected that future was turning out to be.
Avery smiled at him and pointed. “I can see the Tower. It will not be long now.”
Jakob was also glad to note the white stone landmark rising above the horizon. He hated sailing and, even with a lusty wife in his bed, he found scant comfort on a ship.
“I shall revel in resting on a bed which rocks only from our motions, and not from the sea’s,” he whispered in her ear.
Avery’s cheeks pinkened endearingly. At thirty-five years of age, she seemed almost girlish in her response to their bedsport.
“What is the date?” he asked, a sudden realization prodding him.
Her brow wrinkled. “If I am counting correctly, today should be the nineteenth of April. Why?”
Jakob chuckled. “Because if you are correct, then I am thirty-three years old today.”
Avery spun to face him. “Why did you not tell me earlier?”
“I forgot,” he answered honestly. “I was not thinking about it when we left Barcelona, and since that day I have had other thoughts
occupying my mind.”
Avery blushed again, glancing around for ears that might overhear him. “Are you nervous about seeing Henry again?”
Jakob looked down into her eyes. “Should I be?”
“I am not certain how he will react to our marriage.” Avery bit her lower lip.
“I may be mistaken,” Jakob said slowly, “but I believe you have more to worry about than I do. I am not English, so I am not Henry’s subject.”
Avery lifted one shoulder. “I am not English either, so I am not actually subject to his rulings. But I did live here under his protection.”
Jakob understood the delicate balance. “And on this day we shall enter the court and announce that, as friends of the king and queen, we wish to share with them the good news of our marriage.”
“On your birthday,” Avery added.
Jakob pointed a finger at her. “Yes. Today is my birthday. That will be our distraction.”
Avery laid a hand on his chest. “I am sorry that I do not have a gift for you.”
“You can give me the only gift I truly wish for later this night.” Jakob grinned. “In a long bed that does not move.”
*****
Avery wanted to run into Catherine’s presence and if the queen was in her chambers she would have done so; but on this balmy afternoon Henry and Catherine were undertaking their royal duties in the throne room. Normally, she and Jakob would need to be announced.
However, Jakob had a different plan.
Beefeater Henry was announced. Once his audience commenced, he assured the queen that Lady Avery was in excellent health and doing very well. Jakob and Avery waited outside the door, listening for the perfect moment to make their surprise appearance.
“Are you quite certain, sir? You saw her and spoke with her?” Catherine’s voice was heavy with concern.
“Go on,” Jakob whispered, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I shall join you in a moment.”
Avery dipped a quick nod, stepped through the doorway, and walked past the bemused herald.