by Alexa Aston
He patted her knee. “Your instincts brought our son home to us. We can never repay you for helping to bring our boy home.”
“You are now, by helping me to leave Vauville.”
“I worry about you. Out on the road alone.”
“God is with me,” she said with certainty.
“Come.”
He took the reins and led the horse across the bailey. His wife parted from them, returning to their rooms. As they came close to the front gates, he paused.
“Wait here in the shadows. I’ll send Bill to fetch the healer to find something to ease my stomach pains. Once he’s out of sight, I’ll open the gates enough for you to get out. Keep close to the castle walls and then break for the woods so no sentry will see you.”
The gatekeeper returned to his post and, soon after, she saw a figure between a boy and a man hurry across the bailey. She waited until he rounded the corner and nudged the horse with her knees, turning him toward the gates. As Daralys approached, they swung open a ways and she moved through them quickly, keeping to the wall as suggested. With England at peace, Lord Harold only had a few men on duty at night, one watching in each direction away from the castle. That would be her saving grace. The soldiers stationed along the wall walk looked to prevent men from invading and didn’t watch for anyone leaving.
The cold night was full of clouds blocking the moon from sight. Daralys crept along the wall until it was time to make for the forest. She walked the horse out several paces and glanced over her shoulder to see if she could spy the sentry on her side.
She did—and found him at the far end where the south and east walls intersected. He stood with his back to her, another soldier next to him. Thankful the two men conversed as they stared out to the east, she clicked her tongue and trotted the horse into the nearby woods. Their carelessness had let her escape without being seen. Since she’d told Lord Harold her escort party would arrive and depart before mass, he wouldn’t give her another thought.
The feeling inside her told her she would be safe until she reached Kinwick. She knew home lay a few days to the south. From there, she would head east to her destination.
The babe kicked hard within her and she placed her hand across her belly.
“You are going home, little one, to someone who will love you very much,” she promised.
Daralys wondered who that someone might be.
Chapter Two
Kinwick Castle
Merryn de Montfort awoke, her back nestled against her husband’s chest. Geoffrey’s arm lay protectively around her thickening waist. She listened to him breathing and sent a prayer to the Heavens, once again thanking the Christ for returning him to her.
They had been wed over seven years—yet they had spent only seven months together. War hadn’t kept them apart. Something much worse had.
Lord Berold . . .
It was hard to believe the nobleman had kept Geoffrey in his dungeons for years, punishing him for bringing to light the treason Berold’s son had committed. The earl had allowed her and Geoffrey to wed, only to take him hostage. Merryn hadn’t known what had become of her husband of a single day but kept hope alive in her heart that someday he would return to her.
Geoffrey had—seven months ago—thanks to the spiteful earl’s death. With Berold’s passing, his heir released Geoffrey from his prison. Her husband had come home a broken man in both body and spirit. For a time, Merryn didn’t know if he would stay, much less become the Geoffrey of old, one whom she’d loved since they were children.
In his place, a new Geoffrey arose. One born from the suffering of a brave knight. He’d told her his love for her kept him fighting to survive during his long imprisonment. Merryn’s hand went to the arm about her, fingering the thick scars on Geoffrey’s wrist from the shackles that had chained him for so long. The scars remained on his body. The emotional torture had threatened to undo him. Thankfully, their love for one another had stood the test of time and healed him over the past few months.
The babe she carried would also help continue the healing process. Already, the twins had lightened Geoffrey’s heart. He spent hours with them, trying to make up for the time they’d been apart. Alys had taken to her father from the beginning, showering him with affection. Ancel had been slower to accept the father he’d never seen. But once the boy opened his heart, the love between father and son had formed a bond that would never be broken. Ancel favored his father in so many ways, from his looks to his mannerisms. Her boy had helped Merryn keep Geoffrey’s memory alive for every day she had only to look at the son in order to see his father.
She wondered what the new babe would look like. If it would be a boy or girl. What they would name the child.
Warm lips began caressing her neck and Merryn smiled.
“Good morn to you, Wife.”
She turned and though darkness still surrounded them, she knew he also wore a smile.
“How is my handsome husband today?”
“Ready to start his day the only way he knows how.”
Geoffrey kissed her, slow and sweet, the familiar taste and feel of him causing her heart to beat faster. Desire rippled through her and she stroked his bare chest, raking her nails slowly down it to his manhood. He deepened their kiss, his fingers pushing into her hair. Though she’d worn it in a braid for years when she went to bed, he liked it unbound and Merryn found she enjoyed pleasing him in small ways.
He pulled her atop him and lowered her onto his shaft, letting her set the pace of their love play. His fingers teased her breasts, more sensitive now that she carried a babe again, and then moved to run along her burgeoning belly. She eased away from him and then let him sink inside her again, filling her not only physically but with joy. Merryn would never get enough of this man. The years spent apart had been hard ones. She intended for their many years ahead to be ones of purpose, building their family, protecting the people of Kinwick, and living with the precious gift of love each day.
She felt the rising tide build within her and spill over, crying out as he did the same. Merryn collapsed against his chest, spent.
“I like the way you start a day, Husband,” she teased. “If you’re good, I suggest we end our day the same way.”
He kissed her and she felt the smile on his lips.
Suddenly, her body moved in a way it hadn’t in several years. She drew in a swift breath.
“Is that what I think it is?” Geoffrey asked. “Are you quickening?”
He eased her to the bed so they faced one another. He brought a hand to her belly and placed his palm flat against it. They waited, holding their breaths. Then the subtle kick came again.
She laughed. “’Tis our babe,” she confirmed. “The first time I’ve felt the life inside me. From experience, I know it’s always easier to feel if I’m lying or sitting still.”
He nuzzled her neck, his beard lightly grazing her. “I missed this before. I didn’t know what it would be like.”
Merryn heard the wonder in his voice.
“It’s a true miracle. A babe is a gift from God.”
Geoffrey’s other hand pushed her hair from her face. He kissed her brow. “To think, a life we made together now grows inside you, coming to life.”
He kissed his way down her nose and throat, between the valley of her breasts, his lips coming to rest against her belly.
“Do you hear me, little de Montfort?” he asked softly. “I am your father. You’re safe inside your mother, the best mother in all of England. Mayhap the world.”
Waiting, the fluttering kick occurred again and Geoffrey kissed the spot. “We are waiting for you, your mother and I. Your sister and brother. All of Kinwick. You are a babe conceived in love. One born of not only passion but the belief your mother and I have in one another. We cannot wait to see you.”
He kissed her belly once more and then gave her a soft, lingering kiss before pulling the bed curtain aside.
“Come. We must dress for mass and give th
anks to the Eternal Christ for blessing us with another child.”
Merryn extended her hand and Geoffrey helped her rise from the bed. He enveloped her in his arms.
“Do you know how much happiness you bring to me?” he asked.
“Hopefully, as much as you give me,” she replied.
He helped her to dress and she returned the favor. They went to the twins’ bedchambers and Geoffrey disappeared inside Ancel’s while she went to awaken Alys and help ready her for the day.
*
Merryn watched Alys struggle to move one of the heavy pots containing hyssop. She’d learned not to intervene and help her daughter. Alys was always one who would want to do things on her own. Merryn encouraged the girl’s independent spirit. She wanted Alys to be able to do for herself. It was a lesson Merryn had to learn in the years Geoffrey was away and the running of Kinwick fell to her after Ferand’s death.
Instead, she moved to the two containers of thyme. It was one of the hardiest of the herbs she grew in winter and quite bushy, though she had picked leaves from it only days ago. As Alys grunted to shift the pot of hyssop, Merryn began quizzing her. It was a game Alys enjoyed and she excelled at giving answers.
“Tell me what herb I have here,” she said as she fingered it.
“Thyme. The more you pick its leaves, the better it grows. That pot has lemon-scented thyme,” Alys replied.
“Very good. What can we use thyme for?”
“Mostly to help a cough or cold, though Cook likes me to bring her some to put in the stew.” Alys paused. “Some say it helps to keep you from aging so quickly.”
Merryn smiled. “Excellent. And what of the hyssop that you just moved? Those spikes of blue flowers are quite pretty.”
“The flowers can be used, along with the leaves. We can steep them in boiling water to help loosen mucus. When people drink it, they cough up the mucus and are rid of it. Remember, we gave it to Ancel last year at Christmastime. He had a very bad cough.”
“I do remember. It was your idea to give it to him.”
“We also used sage for Ancel, didn’t we, Mother?” the girl asked.
“We did. Can you recall why?”
Alys frowned, her brow wrinkling as she concentrated. “Oh, I know. You said it would help a cold or cough but it was the best remedy for a sore throat.” Alys giggled. “You made Ancel gargle with it after we boiled and strained it. He had to do it three times a day. He hated that.”
“I know. He isn’t very good at gargling, is he?”
Alys shook her head. “Ancel is impatient. Boys are impatient. He should take his time but he hates to slow down to do anything he doesn’t like to do. Girls are different.”
“That’s what makes the world a special place. Because boys and girls are very different from one another.”
Merryn dragged a vessel so that the pot of sage sat in the full sun. “Though all these herbs need watering, sage should never be over-watered.”
“We water once or twice a week in winter. Morning is the best time. And we protect the herb pots from too much wind so they won’t dry out.”
She hugged Alys. “When did you get so smart? I’m so proud of my girl. You know more about herbs than some healers do.”
“I’m a good learner. Like you,” Alys said. “Sephare taught you and now you teach me.”
“You will be a great healer someday, Alys,” she predicted. “You will help the sick and all of your tenants. You will have the healthiest family and people will come far and wide to seek your skills.”
“Will I learn more about herbs when I go to the royal court?”
Sadness tugged at Merryn’s heart. Alys and Ancel would turn seven next August and leave Kinwick to foster elsewhere. Ancel would remain nearby with Hardie and Johamma at Winterbourne, so she and Geoffrey would be able to see him more often. Alys, though, was to go to the royal court and enter the queen’s household. King Edward had wanted both de Montfort children to be under his care but Geoffrey had promised the twins would foster at Winterbourne. The compromise the king arranged would send her daughter far away. It was good that Merryn had met Queen Philippa on several occasions and thought highly of her. She doubted she could have entrusted Alys with anyone else.
Merryn touched the soil of the sage container and picked up a bucket of water. She began watering the herb.
“It’s possible but in the queen’s household, you will learn of other things. Music and dancing. Sewing.”
“Will I get to read?” Alys asked, a hopeful look on her face.
Her daughter already knew her letters and could write and read short sentences.
“I will make certain the queen knows of your desire. You know ’tis a great honor to serve her.”
“I like the queen. She has been very kind to me when she’s visited Kinwick.” Alys paused, her gaze fastened on the ground as she kicked the dirt with her boot.
“Is something wrong?” Merryn asked gently.
“Nay. It’s just that . . . I have never been without Ancel. We will be far apart for the first time. It makes me sad to think about it.”
She set the bucket down and drew her daughter close. “I know. You two are not only siblings but great friends. It will be an adventure, though. You’ll each learn new and different things so that when you come home to Kinwick, you’ll have so much to share with one another.”
“Ancel will have more time to practice with his sword.” Alys’ bottom lip thrust out in a pout. “Are you sure I can’t take mine with me?”
Raynor Le Roux, Geoffrey’s cousin, had crafted a small wooden sword for Ancel when he’d turned six. Alys had put her foot down and demanded Raynor do the same for her. He started teaching the twins the basics of swordplay and Geoffrey had continued with their lessons.
“It’s not appropriate for a girl to swing a sword,” Merryn began.
“Why not? I’m just as good at it as Ancel is.” Alys’ mouth set in determination.
“The royal court is different from Kinwick. I think it’s a good idea for you to learn to handle a sword and protect yourself. The ladies at court, though, allow men to do all the protecting.”
“Hmph,” Alys said, disdain written across her delicate features. “I’m not sure if I’ll like these ladies at court.”
“You don’t have to like them. You do need to be polite to them, however, and learn as much as you can from them. When you come home to Kinwick on your breaks, you may practice swordplay until your arm threatens to fall off.”
Alys laughed, the sound carrying across the inner bailey. Merryn joined in and they finished checking the soil and watering the rest of the pots. They returned their buckets to the well and she intended for them to pick and grind some herbs when Tilda hurried across the yard toward them.
“It’s Riola, my lady. Her time has come. Ellison just came to find you.”
“I’ll get my case,” Merryn said.
“I’ve already taken it to the stables, my lady, and told them to saddle Destiny for you.”
“Can I come, Mother?” Alys pleaded.
Merryn said, “Not this time, love. Would you stay and pick the herbs we’d planned to harvest and take them to the herb room?”
“Having a baby can take a long time,” Alys pointed out. “Should I grind the herbs if you’re not back?”
“Aye, that would be most helpful. And—”
“I know,” her daughter said, her exasperation obvious. “I’m to rinse the mortar and pestle each time with boiling water to clean them well so the herbs don’t get mixed up together. You can trust me, Mother.”
In that moment, Alys didn’t look like a child. She seemed more like the woman she would become.
Merryn kissed her cheek. “Thank you for helping me. You know with the cold weather that it brings coughs and sore throats. It’s wise to keep a large supply of the herbs we need on hand.”
“I’ll stay and help you, my lady,” Tilda offered. The servant winked at Merryn. “You’ll have to show m
e what to do, though.”
Alys brightened, always enjoying when she was placed in charge of others. “I will, Tilda. Come on.” She took the older woman’s hand and gave Merryn a wave.
Merryn hurried to the stables and found Destiny ready, the case tied to the saddle. A groom boosted her up and Merryn trotted off, worried that a gallop would put too much strain on her body. She’d given up riding when she was only three months along with the twins because she’d grown so large so fast. That was her first clue that she carried more than one babe. This time was different, her belly only a moderate lump at four months along. The gates opened as she approached and she rode through them, turning to the west. She hoped this time poor Riola would birth a healthy child. The woman had lost three babes before. Another had almost come to full term but had been stillborn.
Merryn prayed that this Christmas Riola and Ellison would finally get their miracle.
A child of their own.
Chapter Three
Geoffrey de Montfort stood next to his captain of the guard on the raised platform and observed the training exercises in the yard. He inhaled the crisp, cold air as he watched various pairs of men engaged in combat with different weapons of war. His gaze landed on a pair fighting with longswords.
“Do you see what I see, Gilbert?” he asked. “With Herman and Odo.”
“Aye, my lord. Shall I intervene?”
“Nay. Allow me.”
Geoffrey jumped to the ground and wove through the different soldiers wielding arming swords, maces, and clubs. He drew close to the pair and motioned for them to step away from the group. They lowered the weapons and followed him.
“You’ve both done well with arming swords,” he told them. “They are light and versatile and allow you to cut and thrust easily. These longswords are a different matter.”
“They’re very heavy, Lord Geoffrey,” Herman said.
“The next time England goes to war, more soldiers will carry a longsword. ’Tis why I want you well versed in them. May I?”