by Alexa Aston
Geoffrey laughed and made his way to the solar. The door was still open and he entered. Merryn sat in a chair near the fire, a twin on each side, both talking at once and so fast that he doubted she understood much of what they said. Their eyes met and he saw she was pleased with what he’d done.
“Slow down,” she said, having the twins take turns telling her about their Christmas gift. What the horses looked like and how they’d behaved.
When they wound down, Geoffrey told them to go play in their room until it was time to go downstairs for the feast. They left, still talking about the horses and all the places they would ride.
Merryn rose and framed his face with her hands. “You couldn’t have given them a better gift. They did well? They are ready for a horse that will challenge them?”
He touched his hands to hers. “Aye. They are both natural riders. All de Montforts are,” he bragged and kissed her.
Geoffrey broke the kiss. “I also have something for you this Christmas Day.”
Surprise filled her face. “Me? That wasn’t necessary.”
“It was to me.”
He stood and went into their bedchamber, fetching the pair of earrings he’d had the village jeweler craft. He wrapped his fingers around his palm so they couldn’t be seen and returned to the solar, wrapping his arms around his wife’s waist and pulling her close.
“Do you remember what I gave you on our wedding night?” he asked.
“Of course. You brought me a brooch from France. I wear it every day.” She fingered the piece resting on her breast.
“I told you the sapphire stones reminded me of your eyes.”
Merryn smiled. “I remember. I remember everything about that night.”
He brought one arm between them and opened his hand, palm up. “These also are the deep blue of your eyes.”
“Oh, Geoffrey!” She stared at the earrings. “They’re lovely.”
“Put them on,” he urged.
His wife took one and fastened it to her earlobe and then did the same with the other. “I want to see what they look like on me.”
He released her and she went into their bedchamber, lifting a small hand mirror, and studying herself from different angles.
“They match the brooch well,” she said. “Anyone would think they were crafted together.”
“And they match your eyes,” he told her, looking into the mirror. “I’ve never seen eyes as blue as yours. Except for our daughter’s.”
Geoffrey turned her so that she faced him. “This Christmas is the first of many we will spend together, Merryn.” He brushed the back of his fingers against her belly. “Next Christmas, our family will grow by one. I hope more children are to come.”
“I love you so much, Geoffrey.”
“I will always love you, Merryn. Forever and ever.”
*
Tilda summoned them downstairs, telling them their invited guests had been spotted from the wall walk from both directions. Merryn went with Geoffrey and they stood with Alys and Ancel at the foot of the keep’s steps to welcome the two couples as more snow began to fall.
Hugh and Milla Mantel arrived first, riding in with an escort party of half a dozen knights. Accompanying them was Elia de Montfort, Geoffrey’s mother. Elia always turned a bit sad during autumn since she had lost Ferand, her husband, during that time of year. Geoffrey went to help his mother from the saddle and the twins ran to their grandmother, who smothered them with kisses.
“How I have missed the two of you,” Elia said fervently. “I don’t know what I’ll do when you leave to foster next year. I might have to come with you.”
Merryn’s brother dismounted and reached up for his son. Young Hugh had been born almost two months ago after years of no children appearing. The couple had almost given up hope of having any when Milla found herself with child. Merryn had delivered her nephew and seen nothing amiss during the babe’s birth. She’d assured her sister-in-law that it was possible Milla would once again find herself with child. The news has caused her to weep with joy. Knowing how much Elia adored babes, she had suggested to Milla that Elia might come and stay with the couple at Wellbury and help them adjust to life with a newborn. Hugh and Milla had eagerly accepted the offer and Elia had been given a purpose that kept her occupied these past few weeks.
Merryn rushed over and took the babe from Hugh so he could assist his wife to the ground. Geoffrey joined her as the curious infant gazed at them and blew bubbles.
“How is Wellbury?” Geoffrey asked Hugh as the couple came to stand near their son.
“We had a good harvest during the autumn. The winter butchering goes well. What of Kinwick?”
“Much the same,” Geoffrey replied. He glanced to where his mother stood talking with the children. “Thank you again for allowing Mother to visit at Wellbury.”
“She was ever so useful,” Milla shared. “I don’t know how we would have gotten along without her. Lady Elia knows everything about a babe. She soothes Hugh when no one else can.”
Merryn summoned Alys over. “Take your aunt and uncle and little Hugh inside. It’s too cold for them to stand here while we wait for Hardie and Johamma.”
Alys beamed at being given the honor of escorting their guests inside.
“Come with me, Aunt Milla. I’ll tell you and Uncle Hugh about my new horse. I just told Grandmother.”
Geoffrey spoke to the Wellbury knights, instructing them to take their horses to the stables and then come to the great hall. The group rode off as another escort party arrived in the bailey. This time it was their Winterbourne neighbors who came to celebrate the holy day with the de Montforts.
Merryn called out a greeting as Lord Hardwin and Lady Johamma came their way and their men turned to follow the Wellbury soldiers.
“You look slightly older since we saw you last,” Merryn said, knowing the earl had turned a score a few weeks ago.
Hardie laughed. “Consider me an old man now. Well, not as old as Geoffrey,” he teased. “Johamma made some of the mulled wine from your recipe, Merryn. It was delicious.”
“Elia helped me perfect it,” she said, smiling at her mother-in-law as she embraced the noblewoman. “’Tis good to have you back at Kinwick.” She linked her arm with Elia and said, “Come get out of this cold.”
As they ascended the steps, Elia said, “I must thank you, my dear. You were wise to send me to Wellbury. Milla knew absolutely nothing about babes. Teaching her to care for young Hugh kept me busy.” She paused. “It’s not that I miss Ferand any less. A piece of my heart will remain missing until I reunite with him in Heaven. For now, though, I am happy to be useful to others, especially my grandchildren.”
“I know Ferand watches over you, Elia. Over all of us.” Merryn patted her belly. “Even this little one that grows inside of me.”
They entered the keep and went straight to the great hall.
Chapter Seven
The Christmas feast was in full swing in the great hall. Course after course came out, delighting the tenants, soldiers, and servants who gathered to make merry. Geoffrey enjoyed the tender venison and golden-colored goose. He knew from Merryn that the bird got its color from butter and saffron, which his wife grew in her garden and provided to Cook.
Tilda came to stand before them. Her lips twitched as if she tried to keep from smiling and he knew something was about to happen. Since Tilda was in charge of all servants in the keep, it was unusual for her to serve, especially during a feast. He eyed the covered dish she carried with interest.
The servant placed it in front of him and swept off the lid. “Enjoy, my lord.” She curtseyed and walked away.
Geoffrey stared at the baked bird resting atop the trencher. “Is this what I think it is?” he asked, his mouth watering.
“If you think it’s swan, then you’ve guessed correctly,” Merryn replied.
“But . . . how . . .”
“I wrote to the king and he granted permission to serve you swan today.” She placed her han
d on his forearm. “King Edward holds you in high regard, Geoffrey. He was more than willing to allow you to eat your favorite meal today.”
He’d only dined on swan twice. The succulent bird, rarely served outside the king’s presence, had become an instant favorite of his. For his wife to have taken the time to write to Edward and ask such a favor told him just how much she loved him.
He pressed a kiss against her cheek. “I will thank you now with words, my love.” Grinning, he added, “And I will think of another way to thank you tonight in our bed.”
Her cheeks pinkened and he loved her all the more for it.
“Eat it while it’s hot.”
He plucked a piece and brought it to his lips, waiting first to inhale before slipping it into his mouth. As he chewed, the juices exploded and he moaned.
“This might be the best bite I’ve ever eaten.” He pulled off another piece. “Here, you must try it.”
“Nay,” she protested. “It’s for you.”
He rested his hand on her thigh and squeezed. “Then if it’s mine, I can do with it as I please. Share it with me, my love.”
Geoffrey held the piece to her lips and coaxed her to take it.
“Mmm. No wonder it’s your favorite.”
They shared the bird, though he noted that Merryn made sure he ate more than his fair share of it.
He turned to his right and asked Johamma, “Are you enjoying the feast?”
“Aye, my lord. Hardie was eager to accept your invitation. He told me Lady Merryn is a wonderful hostess and this would be the best feast I’d seen.” She smiled. “He was right.”
“We are glad to have you here with us to celebrate the birth of Christ.”
Johamma stared at him intently. “My lord, Hardie has shared all with me. I know what the old earl did to you.”
Geoffrey flinched inwardly but remained calm. Lord Berold was dead. He could never hurt anyone again.
“Hardie is happy that you’ve been able to put aside any ill will and treat him as a friend.”
He swallowed. “Hardie was always a friend to me. Now, he will be a good neighbor as the new earl.” He lifted the cup of lambswool and she did the same. “To good neighbors—and good friends.”
Geoffrey drank the last of the mulled beer and set the cup down. He saw Hardie had also lifted his drink and nodded deferentially to Geoffrey before he drank.
In that moment, Geoffrey knew he was finally free of the ghosts of the past. He was at Kinwick with his family and his people, celebrating a sacred, joyous time of year. England was at peace. He had his health. A new babe on the way. Life didn’t get much better.
He turned to gaze upon Merryn. Most importantly, he had a woman who had stood by him even during his long absence. She would be the one he always turned to, in good times and bad.
“Have I told you how much I love you?” he asked.
“Not for a few hours.”
He leaned over and brushed a soft kiss against her lips. “I do. Very much.”
“A Yule doll, my lord?”
Geoffrey turned and saw a servant had brought a basket of Yule dolls, a treat that he’d loved since childhood.
Reaching into the basket, he brought out two and handed Merryn one before he sank his teeth into the sweet gingerbread.
“Mmm, that’s wonderful. Wait,” he told the servant. “I’d better take one more for good measure.”
“Are you going to have room in your belly for your Christmas pudding?” his wife teased.
“If I don’t when it comes, I’ll bring it to the solar with us,” he declared.
“You better. Cook made it especially for you,” she warned. “On second thought, she probably did so for Alys and Ancel. Those children can talk her into anything.”
The carols began soon after, once the trestle tables had been pushed against the walls. It surprised Geoffrey that Old Davy was the carol singer who began by singing a verse, while a ring of dancers moved around him and sang the chorus. Others joined in to sing and dance and he found himself dancing with first Merryn, then Alys and Milla.
After a couple of hours, the crowd tired and Merryn signaled it was time for the mummers to begin. No actual troupe had come to Kinwick so tonight’s actors were drafted from various servants and soldiers. As the play began and the story of Christ’s birth unfolded, he saw Gilbert, his captain of the guard, had been chosen to play King Herod. When Gilbert ordered the slaughter of all boys under the age of two, he was roundly booed by those in the great hall.
Suddenly, Geoffrey spied a rushed movement. Odo, one of his soldiers who’d been stationed along the wall walk on sentry duty, hurried toward him. Geoffrey removed his arm from Merryn’s waist and turned to meet him.
“My lord, Lady Merryn is needed,” the soldier said in a hushed tone.
“What’s wrong, Odo?” Merryn asked. Then she said, “Wait.” She motioned for them to follow her and the trio slipped from the great hall, now silent as the play continued.
Once they were in the foyer, Odo said, “A young woman sought refuge within our gates minutes ago. She was alone and gave the name Daralys Marillac. She said she’s the Baron of Goldwell’s daughter.” He paused, a deep frown creasing his brow. “She is with child, my lady. From the looks of it, the birth pains are upon her and she will deliver the child tonight.”
“Where is she? I must go to her at once. We need to bring her to the keep and make her comfortable.”
“I tried to get her to come to the keep but she insisted on taking her horse to the stables.” Odo frowned. “Lady Daralys asked that you meet her there. She said . . . she said she must give birth in the stables and that Lady Merryn would deliver the child.”
Geoffrey’s squeezed her elbow. “I’ll fetch your case and meet you there.”
“Get my cloak and a blanket, as well,” she added.
He hurried to the solar. Though Goldwell only lay two estates away from Kinwick, the baron was a notorious recluse and rarely ventured beyond his castle’s walls. Geoffrey couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the baron and had no idea how many children the nobleman had sired. He thought he remembered a boy and a girl but that was from long ago. He claimed Merryn’s cloak and took a blanket from their own bed and then located the satchel full of herbs and items she used when she delivered babes on the estate. He ran from the keep to the stables, knowing time was of the essence.
As he did, he could only wonder why Daralys Marillac was wandering alone in the dark on a snowy Christmas night.
*
Daralys wearily slipped from the horse’s back and sank to the ground since she hadn’t the strength to stand. As she’d ridden throughout yesterday and today, the shooting pains had come and gone as the snow continued to fall. Without her cloak, she feared she might freeze to death but she kept praying to the Virgin to guide her to her final destination. She’d gotten lost and wandered in circles, afraid she would never reach Kinwick in time.
She cried out as another pain began and then whimpered softly as it ended.
Suddenly, a voice cried out, “Daralys!”
“I’m here,” she said weakly.
Two lanterns headed toward her and as they came closer, she saw the soldier who’d brought her inside Kinwick’s gates and a woman.
Lady Merryn . . .
Though Daralys had never thought of an angel as having hair of fire, Merryn de Montfort swept down as one. She wrapped her arms around Daralys.
“You are frozen,” she chided softly. “We’ll get you warm, Daralys, and see that you have your baby. Are you sure you don’t want to come to the keep?”
“Nay,” she said through gritted teeth as another pain began. “I must . . . stay here.”
“Very well. Odo, help bring Lady Daralys to her feet and then you may take care of her horse.”
The young soldier jumped to the task, assisting her to her feet. Lady Merryn steadied her as another man arrived.
“Geoffrey, carry Daralys,” the noblewoman ord
ered as she took a case and a blanket from him.
The tall man swept her up as if she weighed nothing and followed Lady Merryn.
“Here!” she cried, entering an empty stall.
The man paused at the entrance as the noblewoman gathered straw and then spread a blanket over it. He eased her to it and Lady Merryn spread a cloak over Daralys.
“This is my husband, Geoffrey, and I am Merryn.”
“I am . . . Daralys,” she gasped as another pain hit.
Merryn held her hand until it passed and then had Geoffrey pull off Daralys’ boots and rub her feet while she did the same for her hands.
While the noblewoman tried to warm her, she said, “I need to ask you a few questions. Did you see anything tinged brown or pink or mayhap red come from you yesterday or today?”
“Aye. Yesterday. When I relieved myself. Is that good?”
“That was your bloody show. It loosens and leaves you, giving room for the babe to come.” Merryn smiled at her and stroked Daralys’ hair tenderly. “Are the pains close together?”
“Aye. They came and went as I rode. In the last hour, they’ve grown stronger and closer together. They’ve also lasted longer.” Her voice broke as another came.
When it ended, Merryn said, “I need to check to see how you progress. Geoffrey, would you come behind Daralys and let her head rest in your lap?”
The nobleman moved and lifted her head gently. He placed his large hands against her face and she felt a rush of warmth flow from him to her. Merryn pushed the blanket and Daralys’ skirts up and examined her. She watched the woman’s eyes and saw concern flicker in them as she touched gingerly around where the babe would come from.
“What’s wrong? I know something is.”
“Your babe is breech. That means the buttocks are showing,” Merryn explained. “’Tis not the way a babe should be born. The head needs to come first.” Her lips set in a grim line. “I’m going to have to turn your babe, Daralys. It will hurt a great deal but it must be done in order for the child to have a chance to survive.”
“Do it,” she said. “Do whatever it takes to save this babe. I don’t care how much it hurts.”