Her chin lifted in the air. "Never."
* * * *
The day had darkened slightly with the advance of the black column marching in from the direction of the sea. Moisture tinged the air, telling her it would not be long before the rain fell. Swift winds lifted up the tendrils of Isabeau’s hair and she drew her cloak around her a little tighter, her legs tightening around the thick midsection of the horse. She should return to Henstrige before the rain fell but part of her wanted to remain defiant despite all that she and Kendrick had gone through.
Isabeau cast a swift glance around. There was no sign of Kendrick or the escort he assigned to follow her. She smiled as her gloved fingers covered her lips to stifle the giggle. Thankfully, he was sleeping or else he would be furious she was not by his side....
"What are you doing out here?" rumbled the familiar voice behind her. Her spine stiffened. The precious escape from her husband was short lived.
Isabeau turned around, her brows knitting in fury. "I am just getting a little fresh air, Kendrick."
"You should have awoken me...."
She cut off his words with her upraised hand. "I know, Kendrick. You would have seen I had something else to do besides wander Henstrige, but not this time! I am a grown woman about to become a mother and not a child bullied into submission!" Her voice rose several octaves as her anger rose in response to his assumption that he only needed to make love to her in order to pacify her wandering. She loved the time in bed she spent with him but she needed her private time.
Kendrick’s face deepened. "Do not mock me, woman. You forget what happens when I get angry."
"I do not care!" she shouted. "Do with me as you will...." The searing pain ripped across her belly, as though a strong blade went through it. She doubled over.
Kendrick was immediately at her side, his hands holding her on her horse. "Isabeau, what ‘tis the matter?"
"Take me back to Henstrige and get Hedda," she choked out as the pain flashed across her belly. "I think our child will be born tonight."
* * * *
Kendrick laid her down on the bed, his face a composed mask of worry, angst and anxiety. "How is the pain?" he murmured as he brushed a soft kiss on her forehead, his fingers trembling against her cheek.
Isabeau gripped them and stared deep in the dark pools of his eyes. "I will be fine, Kendrick," she murmured through clenched teeth as a plethora of pain crossed her body. "Go outside and they will get you when ‘tis over."
Kendrick shook his head, his eyes brimming with emotion. "No, Isabeau. I will be here right at your side."
Her gaze went past his immense shoulder to see Hedda, accompanied by quite a few of the servants coming through the door. In their hands, they bore sheets and cloths as well as steaming buckets of water. Her attention turned back to Kendrick. "No, Kendrick. ‘Tis unseemly for you to be here, as much as I want you to be."
"She is right, Kendi," cackled Hedda as she dipped her gnarled hands into the hot water and scrubbed them with strong soap. "Men should not be present when babies are birthed."
"No, Hedda, I am not going anywhere," he growled, not bothering to give Hedda a look, choosing instead to keep his eyes on her. "My wife needs me and here is where I will stay. You will need to raise an army to get me out of here."
* * * *
The hours seemed to draw on as the day progressed to night, her pains becoming stronger. A thin sheen of sweat covered her forehead as well as her upper lip. Kendrick sponged her head as best he could, holding her hand and accepting the pain she inflicted with each ache. His voice was warm and soothing, assuring her that the birth would proceed smoothly.
"Kendrick, I can not stand the pain!" she howled as another one crossed her midsection. She gripped his hand in a tight hold and felt him wince.
The cloth in his hand, cool and soothing went to her forehead. "You can, Isabeau. It will not be long now," he murmured and kissed her cheek gently.
"It will not be long now, milady. I am beginning to see the head," Hedda informed them in a somber voice from between her legs. Was there something wrong?
"What ‘tis it, Hedda? Is there something amiss with the child?" she inquired in a shaky voice.
"No, milady. I am just trying to see if I will need to make the opening a little wider for it."
Kendrick’s fingers traced a slow, circular pattern on her cheek. "See? Just a little more and we will see our child."
* * * *
Midnight came and went. Dawn was approaching with still no sign of the child. She was growing tired but the will to see her baby kept her persevering.
She looked to her right. Kendrick sat in the chair with his black head bowed as soft snores slipped through his tired lips. His hand still held hers. She gripped it tightly. Even with all that had transpired between them, their love continued to grow. What other man would have been there with her when she bore their child?
Her belly tightened and she pushed. "Milady, the time has come! Push a little harder!"
Isabeau squeezed Kendrick’s hand and he awoke with a start. "Wha ... what is happening?"
A smile curled her lips. "Your child is getting ready to meet you." With that, Isabeau, fighting all the exhaustion within her, bore down with all that she possessed.
"The head is emerging now, milady! Just a little more and you will see your child!" Hedda announced, her hands working to clean the baby’s nose and mouth.
Kendrick, idly curious, got up and wandered down to the end of the bed to see the babe’s face. Suddenly, his face paled and he began to sway, his hands gripping the ornate tester of the bed. "Get the Duke a chair!" Isabeau screamed. One of the girls picked up his chair and put it under him in time.
He slumped down, his head in his hands. "I do not think I should have done that," he murmured.
Isabeau held out her hand. "Come back, my love, and hold my hand," she gasped as she bore down again. Kendrick immediately complied.
Hedda looked up through a haze of stringy white hair. "One more push and the child will be delivered."
Isabeau nodded and pushed. The baby slipped out of her as easily as water from a pitcher. "’Tis a son!" Hedda cried.
With a swift slap on his behind, the baby wailed as Hedda laid the infant on her belly. Tears formed in her eyes and created a haze she could barely see through. "He is beautiful, is he not, Kendrick?"
Kendrick sat next to her, completely mesmerized. His fingers reached out and touched the new fingers, examining them. "I ... do ... not ... know ... what ... to ... say," he stammered as his hand drifted over the wailing infant’s body.
"Kendi, do ye want to cut the cord and free him from his mother’s womb?" Hedda asked.
Kendrick nodded and took the offered knife from Hedda’s hand. "This will not hurt him in any way, will it?" Hedda shook her head. With one swift move, he cut between the two tied cords on the twisted blue tinted rope binding the infant to her. A few droplets of blood spilled onto the white sheet before knowledgeable hands whisked the infant away for cleaning.
She turned to Kendrick, gripping his handsome face on her hands. "Much thanks, Kendrick, for being here with me."
A lone tear tracked out of his eye and ran down his cheek. "There is no other place on earth I would rather be than with you."
* * * *
Dawn broke and found Isabeau and Kendrick getting the first glimpses of their newly born son without the company of the Hedda or the rest of the servants. Isabeau bathed and dressed in a fresh dressing gown, laid her head on Kendrick’s velvet clad shoulder and stared at the hefty bundle in his arms. "Have you any thoughts on a name for him?" Her fingers touched the tiny ones that mimicked Kendrick’s down to the fingernails. Glossy black hair with curling ends covered the fresh head. His eyelashes, long and sooty, matched his hair. A fine down covered his lengthy arms and legs.
Kendrick leaned his head back against the carved headboard and let out a long sigh. "I assumed you would be the one to name him since you were the on
e who bore him."
Her fingers stroked the side of his stubble filled cheek. Shivers of delight coursed up and down her spine despite the exhaustion that flooded her body. She let out a tired breath. "It has long since been a tradition in my family that the father name the child."
Kendrick put his arm around her and drew her close. "If that is the way you wish it, then so be it. I think I will name him Alexander, after my grandfather. He was a great warrior and King. I hope that our son grows to be the same."
There was such love in his voice that Isabeau forced herself to turn away from him. She must return to Castile in order to take her rightful place as its Queen. If not, her country may be plunged into war or chaos. She could not let that happen. "Kendrick, may I ask you something?"
He nodded. "Of course."
Before she could ask it, Alexander opened his eyes, stared at Kendrick for a moment and let out a howling wail. Kendrick looked concerned. "What is wrong with him?"
"More than likely he is hungry. He did make an extraordinary journey after all." Unlacing her gown, Isabeau exposed her breast and held Alexander up to it. He suckled most readily. She stared at the tiny infant who was solely dependent on her for everything, from his clothes to his milk. Suddenly, the clouded vision plaguing her since her capture cleared and left the truth behind. This was her destiny, to be Alexander’s mother and Kendrick’s wife. If she were to be Queen again, she could only do it with Kendrick at her side.
Kendrick’s finger stroked the Alexander’s cheek, his gaze drawn to the suckling infant. "What was it that you wanted my dear?"
"I want to return to Castile but I will do so under one condition," she announced as her heart pounded against her ribcage.
His motions stopped as he let out a defeated sigh as his head leaned back on the dark wooden headboard. "Back to Castile. Perhaps I knew this would come but I always thought I could make you see that it was more important for you to stay here. I guess I failed you. If you wish to return, then I will not stop you. The only thing you will not take is Alexander."
"Why not?"
Kendrick held her a little tighter as Alexander continued to suckle. "Because since I can not have you here, I want part of you here. I can tell his hair will be curly like yours and he has your eyes. If that is your condition, then no, he will not go with you."
Isabeau’s fingers trailed the side of his stubble filled jaw. "Oh, my love, you have yet to hear my condition."
"What is it?"
"I will only return," she stated softly as she took a deep breath, "if you come with me and be my Prince Consort."
* * * *
The hall at the palace in Castile transformed beautifully into a wonderland of white and gold. The upper trestle tables on the raised dais draped with the pale linen and garlands of ivory flowers. Gold plates and utensils were in place, glimmering in the morning sun. Lower tables sat in the same way except the utensils were silver. New tapestries, depicting previous coronations, hung around the hall, brought out of attic stores. Isabeau personally oversaw each detail and made sure all was perfect. After all, ‘twas not everyday she named her Prince Consort.
Alexander slept mostly in the morning and allowed her to get as much done as possible before his next feeding. In her absence, many letters and documents piled up, all of them awaiting her signature. It seemed like it would never end. Kendrick spent as much time with her and Alexander as possible before his morning meetings with the war and military councils. She smiled. It seemed as though every morning, Kendrick required some special ‘exercise’ before his meetings. She was more than happy to oblige.
Putting down her pen, Isabeau gazed dreamily into the empty air and let her mind roll on the past events. In the space of over a year, she was captured, fell in love and had a child. It never ceased to amaze her that what Kendrick spoke was true. She had his child like he predicted and married him. It felt as though it would never be any other way.
What also seemed odd was the King’s reaction when Kendrick asked him to return her crown. His Majesty rejected Kendrick’s plea and told him it as not possible. This went on for several weeks until a mysterious letter arrived and granted the return of her crown. What made the King change his mind so quickly? She had been tempted to ask but Kendrick warned her that she would be treading on dangerous ground. His father did not like to be questioned on his actions. So she had left it alone but that did not stop her from wondering the reason.
The sudden shift from the ornate cradle drew her complete attention. Alexander stirred slightly and she knew from his movements, he would be ready to feed in a few moments. She watched for a moment and felt the love burst over the brim of her soul. Alexander was perhaps the one person that would ever truly belong to her and he would occupy a most special place in her heart since he was her firstborn. Not that she would not love the following children any less but Alexander would always remain foremost in her heart.
Her hand went to unfasten the back of her gown when it struck something cold around her neck. She looked down. It was her necklace, created in a Castilian cross, with her name engraved on the back. Taking the free pendant in her hand, she gazed at it. Normally, this was her protection to keep her out of danger at all times. When she was captured, she neglected to wear it, preferring instead to leave it in Castile. I will give this to Alexander when he gets old enough. Aye, it would keep him out of all danger. She clasped it in her hand. If it were not for the cross, she would not have Alexander.
* * * *
The ceremony was solemn, austere, with all and sundry in attendance. Isabeau sat quietly in her throne and held the orb and scepter while Kendrick recited the vows of fidelity, troth and loyalty to Castile. His Latin was perfect. He pledged to consult the Queen in all things and her decision would be the final one on all matters. She cast him a sidelong glance several times during the ceremony. He was magnificent. Dressed in his best armor, he wore the tunic of Kent until it was changed to the tunic of Castile. Yards of black hair tumbled over his broad shoulders and streamed out over the cloth-of-gold cloak with the ermine collar. When all the necessary words were spoken, the anointing oil was poured on his head and declared him the High Prince of Castile and husband to the Queen. With that, a raucous cheer echoed through the crowd as items rose in the air as part of the celebration.
Isabeau laid her orb in her gold encrusted lap and grasped his hand. "As you said, my love, always and forever."
His eyes misted with a wet film that he held back. "Aye, I could not have been happier. I only wish Edmund could have seen our wedding or been here for this," he whispered as the crowd milled around the room and the conversation arose.
"Mayhap, he will, Kendrick…." Suddenly her words were cut off by a page striking a stick onto the stone floor.
He struck three times and announced the new visitor. "Your Majesties, may I present the Prince of Wales."
Utter shock astounded her as the crowd parted and allowed Edmund to push forward. In his absence from Henstrige, his hair, streaked gold by the sun had grown quite a bit longer, nearly reaching his shoulders. His build seemed more like Kendrick’s though he was not quite as large. At their feet, he bowed with a smile across his lips. Sheer terror ripped through her veins. What did Edmund want now?
"Your Majesties, I have come to ask of your hospitality. Would it be possible for me to join in the festivities?"
Kendrick arose and moved down the short steps with lightning speed. He drew his brother into a warm embrace. "Oh, how I have missed you, brother!" Isabeau watched the tender scene for a moment and signaled for the nurse to hand her Alexander. She took the baby and followed Kendrick’s path.
Edmund returned it with a careless grace and pulled away. "Aye, I have missed you too, Kendrick. Life is certainly dull in London when you are not there." He turned to her and bowed deeply. "My Queen."
She smiled as she extended her free hand. He took it and kissed the back. "You look well, milord." He seemed younger and more alive than he had a
t Henstrige. What caused the change?
"Aye, I am well," he chirruped as he tilted his head into a nod, "and I bring you glad tidings."
Kendrick’s black slash of an eyebrow rose mischievously. "What is that?"
"I am betrothed, dear brother," he mused as he clapped Kendrick on the arm.
"Who is the lucky woman, may I ask?"
"Eleanor of Anjou."
Her heart lifted as the joy kept bounding in itself. Edmund, who she thought never inclined to marry, had found a mate in Eleanor. She knew the Princess of Anjou personally. They had spent several summers together and became as close as sisters. As a matter of fact, they had been mistaken for sisters on several occasions. "Much happiness, milord," she exclaimed as she placed a gentle, sisterly kiss on his cheek. "Eleanor is a very lucky woman"
"Much thanks, Isabeau, but ‘tis you I must thank."
Her brows drew up in surprise. "How so?"
A slow, gentle smile curled the corners of his lips. "That night in the dining hall when I approached you made me realize how empty my life is. I craved what Kendrick possessed and was determined to get it. You made me realize that you truly belonged to Kendrick, not just in body but in heart and soul. In that materialization, I knew what I missed out on. So, after I left in my anger, I decided to build my life by myself and without Kendrick by my side."
"But, milord…."
Edmund held his hand up in a gesture of silence. "Hear me, your Majesty. All my life, I had Kendrick around me, always protecting me. I never fought on my own. Even when he was captured, I felt lost without his guidance. Though we are the same age, I consider him my older brother. When I reached London, I knew Kendrick would never be the same and neither would I," he confessed as he peered into the sleeping bundle in her arms and swept a soft finger on Alexander’s fresh cheek. "This is also what I am missing from my life. I would like to have a child to carry on my crown. I think ‘tis high time I crawl out from under Kendrick’s shadow."
Isabeau blinked hard as she stared at Edmund. Was this the same arrogant young man who approached her in the dining hall at Henstrige? Nay, he could not be! "Milord, the changing was done on your own behalf. I had nothing to do with it."
Desires Promise Page 30