by Jody Hedlund
I’d hoped to see that same look again on the brief visits she’d made to my chambers to check on me, but I hadn’t. I wasn’t disappointed—at least that’s what I told myself. With Maribel, I’d learned to keep my expectations from rising too high.
She stood, pressed a hand to her forehead, then pivoted to scan the people around her as though assessing whom to tend next. At the sight of me in the middle of the nave, she froze.
I stopped and tried to gauge her reaction to seeing me there. I had the feeling she’d scold me severely for getting out of bed. But would she leave the cathedral with me willingly, or would I need to pick her up and forcibly carry her out? I’d told myself during the ride over that today I wouldn’t let her sway me from bringing her back to the palace to rest. If she told me no, I’d find a way to soften her will, just as Christopher had suggested.
Stiffening my spine for the task, I continued toward her, preparing for both her resistance to leaving and the need to make her do so lest she fall ill herself.
Her eyes followed my movement, never swerving from me. Something in her blue depths welcomed me. And as I neared her, my stomach flipped at the realization that the something was desire. She desired me—not just for my companionship and help, but because she’d missed me and wanted to be with me. Was it possible her love for me as her brother and friend had finally deepened into something more passionate?
As I came to a halt in front of her, she peered up at me expectantly. Even though her face was smudged with dust and grime, she’d never been more beautiful. And for several heartbeats, she rendered me speechless.
“You should be abed,” she said quietly.
“So should you,” I managed to reply.
“There is too much work yet to be done.” She swayed slightly from her fatigue.
That was all the incentive I needed. Although still reeling from my own brush with death, I scooped her up, sweeping her off her feet and cradling her against my chest. “You need a respite from your doctoring, Maribel.”
“I cannot leave all these people. They are still so sick.” But even as she protested, she relaxed against me, allowing me to hold her.
I started back the way I’d come, stepping carefully around the pallets filling the floor. “They will get along for a little while without you. But I cannot be without you a moment longer.”
At my tender words, I felt her melt in my arms. And I inwardly smiled, realizing Christopher had been right. Rather than persuade Maribel, I’d simply needed to soften her resolve.
“I have missed you,” she whispered as I carried her toward the door.
“And I have missed you,” I whispered in return, heedless of the dozens of people watching us from all corners of the cathedral.
She smiled, and at that moment I was clay in her hands. She could have asked me for the world and I would have done anything to give it to her.
“I love you, Edmund.”
Her words stopped me. It wasn’t the first time she’d made the declaration. But the way she spoke the words—in a low, almost desperate tone—told me this was real and she wanted to be with me in the same way I wanted to be with her.
She lifted a hand to my cheek and caressed it. “I want to marry you and spend my life loving you. I can think of nothing I desire more.”
My heartbeat pulsed hard at the words I’d never thought she’d say. I almost couldn’t believe I’d heard her correctly. What had made her change?
“The night you almost died of the pestilence,” she answered my unasked question. “I learned a great deal about myself regarding my selfishness.”
In the growing quiet of the nave, I wondered how much of our conversation carried to those around us. I started again toward the door, wanting to protect her from further gossip and scandal.
“Stop, Edmund.” She squirmed in my arms.
I kept moving forward. “We’ll talk more in private.”
“I want to get married before we leave the cathedral.”
This time her words made me stumble so that I nearly dropped her. I halted and studied her face. Was she jesting with me?
“We should do it now.” Maribel’s eyes sparked with sudden excitement. “While we are here and while we have a priest present to marry us.”
I’d been admonishing myself to work harder to convince her to go through with the wedding soon. I’d never imagined she’d be the one to bring it up. And I’d certainly never imagined she’d want to get married this day, at this moment.
Part of me cautioned against doing anything hasty, that Maribel deserved to have a lovely wedding in a pretty gown with her sister present. But the other part of me wanted nothing more than to marry this woman I’d loved my whole life and finally make her mine.
“It would put my mind at ease to have you wed,” I said, trying to keep the waver of my own excitement from my voice. “Then we’d no longer have to worry about Ethelwulf working to steal you away to marry his son.”
Maribel watched my expression as though attempting to read it. “You will marry me foremost for love, will you not? You spoke of your love once when you thought you were dying, but have not spoken of it again.”
I could always count on Maribel getting right to the point and saying exactly what she meant. Even in a room full of people. Since she had no inclination to wait until we were alone to have our overdue conversation, I had to put aside my reservations and speak what was on my heart.
Slowly, I lowered Maribel to her feet so that she stood once more. Then I knelt before her and reached for her hand. “Maribel, I meant what I said on my deathbed. I have loved you with my whole heart for as long as I can remember and I always will. Would you make me the happiest man in all the Great Isle—in all the world—by marrying me and becoming my wife?”
Soft gasps came from all around, along with murmurs of delight from among the people. Perhaps this public proposal of marriage would bring even more goodwill toward Maribel.
She smiled down at me, and tears glistened in her eyes. “I accept your offer, Edmund. I only pray one day I will be worthy of the honorable, kind, and noble man that you are.”
Chapter
23
Maribel
I was tired beyond anything I’d ever experienced. But I was also happier than I’d ever been.
King Draybane’s steward had hastily procured a clean gown for the wedding. One of the nuns had helped me wash and change while Edmund spoke with the priest to enlist his services.
Now I stood at the front of the sanctuary, before the altar next to Edmund. And I was getting married.
Word had spread quickly regarding Edmund’s proposal and our hasty wedding plans. Behind us, the nave was crowded not only with patients who seemed eager to witness our nuptials, but also many of the populace who remained in Brechness.
I ran a hand over the tight bodice of my gown, marveling at the tiny stitches of embroidery that decorated the waist. The bright red laced with roses was exquisite and likely belonged to Adelaide. I’d never worn anything but the traditional nun’s habit, so the close-fitting confines and heavy layers of the garment felt strange.
Yet every time uncertainty swelled and threatened to undo me, I glanced into Edmund’s eyes. Although he’d attempted to mask his appreciation of how I looked, he was unable to disguise his fascination and enjoyment of the changes in my appearance.
“Are we ready to begin?” the priest asked. As one of the kindly older men who’d lent his aid day and night for the past week, I could see the fatigue in his face. Nevertheless, he’d agreed to make us man and wife in the sight of God and men.
Edmund reached for my hands. Devoid of gloves, our fingers slid together smoothly, sending tingles over my skin. His face was pale and drawn from his recent illness, but I was struck as never before at what a distinguished, handsome man he was.
“Dearly beloved,” the priest said, “we are gathered together here in the sight of God to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony; which is a
n honorable estate, instituted of God in Paradise, and into which holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. Therefore if any man can show just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, by God’s Law, or the Laws of the Realm, let him now speak, or else forever hold his peace.”
“I object,” came a voice from the far side of the cathedral.
Startled, I spun, as did most everyone. Amidst gasps and murmurs, those who were standing lowered themselves to their knees.
There in the open double doorway stood Adelaide, the sunlight streaming in upon her. She wore a stunning royal blue gown. Her golden hair was piled on top of her head, and a crown was centered among the glorious waves. She was breathtaking and regal, with an air of power and confidence that filled me with awe.
Behind her stood Christopher, attired in regal court garments. Without his chain mail, I hardly recognized him.
The queen glided forward into the cathedral, and the people cleared a path for her. As she strode forward, her face was unreadable. When she stopped several feet away from the altar, Edmund tugged on my arm and began to kneel. I followed his example in bowing to the queen. Since meeting her, I’d thought of her as a warrior and leader. But today, seeing her in all her glory, I realized she had the aura of a royalty and would make a magnificent queen.
“Your Majesty.” I bowed my head before her.
For a long moment, I remained subservient. When I finally dared to lift my head, she held out her hand to me, revealing a signet ring with the royal emblem that had once belonged to the house of Mercia—two golden lions standing rampant with a ruby at the center.
I kissed it, and then she assisted me back to my feet. When Edmund had taken his place next to me, I met the queen’s gaze. I was surprised to see pride and joy shining in her blue eyes that were so much like my own. Since she’d voiced her objection just moments ago, I’d expected to see censure.
“I am heartily glad to see you, sister.” I dipped my head again.
“As I you,” she replied with a smile.
I couldn’t help but return the smile, the gladness of our reunion filling me. We’d had so little time together to make up for the years apart. I hadn’t been sure if we would survive the pestilence to see each other again, and I lifted a grateful prayer God had seen fit to spare us both.
“I did not think you would object to our wedding,” I said. “I thought it would please you.”
“I only objected because I did not want you to begin without my presence by your side.” She moved to stand next to me, and Christopher did likewise with Edmund.
At her show of support, my heart swelled with a gladness it couldn’t contain.
“After all,” Adelaide continued, “I could not miss the wedding of my most esteemed royal court physician, could I?”
My pulse stuttered. “Royal court physician?”
Adelaide lifted her chin and let her gaze fall upon the masses of people on the floor, along the walls, and crammed into the back. “Her Royal Highness, the Princess Maribel, has worked a miracle among the displaced of Mercia as well as the good citizens of Norland. Because of the gift bestowed upon her by Almighty God, she has brought healing to this city and all of Norland. In honor of her service and her skills, I hereby announce from this day henceforth, she is to be esteemed, respected, and sought after as the greatest physician in all the land.”
Loud cheers and clapping echoed throughout the cathedral, and I couldn’t keep the tears from filling my eyes. My dearest dream had come true. The people were ready to accept me as a woman physician. Not only did they accept me, but they lauded me.
Edmund’s hand slid into mine once again. And when our eyes met, I knew God had blessed me indeed with more than I could ask or imagine. He’d given me this incredible man to spend my life with, and He had opened the way for me to continue to use my gift of healing.
Only when I’d let go of my selfish ambitions and been willing to embrace His greater plans, had I found true contentment. In the end, He’d provided an even better way for me to use my healing skills than I could have done as a nun. He’d increased my scope, and now I would be able to help so many more people.
Adelaide’s proud gaze came to rest on me. She didn’t have to say anything for me to know what she was thinking—that God had indeed answered our prayer in a way we’d never been able to envision on our own.
“I have been speculating during the return voyage from Loughlin,” she said softly. “Perhaps there is more to King Solomon’s hidden treasure than mere riches. What if the real treasure lies within us? With the gifts God imparts to us? What if those combined gifts are the keys to ridding the land of evil and restoring peace?”
I nodded eagerly at Adelaide’s astute observation. “Wisdom and healing are indeed great treasures. Already God has used these gifts to bring about much good.” Adelaide’s wisdom had gained her an alliance with Norland as well as acceptance among the rebels of Mercia. And now my medicine and healing touch had saved our army, along with countless people who supported our cause.
What about Emmeline? Wherever she was and whatever she was doing, had God given her a gift as well? Were our gifts the treasure? Or was there more we still needed to seek down in the labyrinth?
Although I wanted to voice my questions, Christopher cleared his throat loudly and gained Adelaide’s attention. He inclined his head to the crowded nave, raising his brows meaningfully.
She nodded in reply and then turned to face Edmund. “We have brought someone back with us from Loughlin. Someone who was loathe to miss your wedding.”
“Your Majesty?” Edmund asked politely.
Adelaide beckoned at a man from the crowd. “Your grandfather.”
Chapter
24
Edmund
My grandfather? I scanned the faces before me. Surely the queen was mistaken. “Captain Theobald killed my grandfather for aiding the rebellion.”
“No.” The queen focused on a figure approaching from the back. “The captain planned to arrest your grandfather for assisting in my escape from Mercia. Fortunately, friends became privy to the plans and warned us. Thus, we were able to intervene and save him in time. He has been residing in Brechness until he left at the outbreak of the pale pestilence.”
My heart twisted with the news and with the realization that I’d almost murdered Theobald, not just for what he’d done to my family but also because of my grandfather—especially because of my grandfather.
Theobald had taunted me, lied to me, and tried to use my need for revenge to turn me into a bitter and angry man. It had almost worked. What if I’d killed him that day thinking I was taking revenge for my grandfather’s death? How would I have been able to stand here today and hold my head high? How would I have been able to look my grandfather in his eyes without thinking about what I’d done?
Was it time to finally stop trying to forget about all that had happened and instead forgive? Was that where true freedom was found?
Once again, the crowd parted as a stoop-shouldered, white-haired man shuffled toward the altar. The man I remembered had been tall, having brown hair with only a smattering of white at his sideburns. That man had walked with purpose and certainty. Was this old man really my grandfather?
It had been over seventeen years since I’d been dragged away from my childhood home in Chapelhill. Seventeen years since I’d last seen my grandfather. Seventeen years since he’d hugged me good-bye in a hard embrace. So much had changed during that time.
As he drew nearer, he halted and sucked in a wheezing breath, as if seeing me was too much for him. Christopher was at his side in an instant, lending him a supportive arm, holding him up, gently encouraging him the final distance to the altar.
I was grateful for Christopher’s quick aid, for I couldn’t make my legs or arms work, nor could I manage to think of anything to say.
Maribel slipped her hand through the crook of my arm. In an instant, her strength and steadiness seeped into me and r
eminded me we would face the future together, side by side, as husband and wife.
“Grandfather?” I said tentatively.
“Edmund.” His voice wobbled, and he studied my face, his eyes welling with unshed tears. “You look like your father.”
I nodded. “If I am ever half the man my father was, then I will be blessed indeed.”
At my words, tears spilled over onto Grandfather’s lined cheeks. “I believe you were saved by God’s mighty hand to rise up and do greater things than your father ever did.”
When our gazes connected, I saw there the man I’d always known, the wise and loving grandfather. The stresses of the years might have aged him and changed his outward appearance, but inwardly he was still the honorable nobleman I remembered.
“I have searched for you all these many years,” Grandfather said. “I prayed every day that if you were alive God would help me find you.”
I couldn’t begin to imagine the heartache and worry he’d experienced at my disappearance. “I’m sorry, Grandfather. I believed you were murdered like everyone else—”
“Do not be sorry, my child,” he said. “If God had answered my prayer the way I wanted and allowed me to find you, King Ethelwulf would have killed you by now. Instead, God put you someplace safe, where you could be trained and prepared for taking care of the princess and for contributing to the fight that is yet to come.”
In my heart, I sensed Grandfather was right—that I’d been in the best place possible. If not for being at Highland Convent, I would have missed knowing and loving Maribel. Even so, my heart ached at all the years I’d missed being with my last remaining relative.
Maribel’s fingers closed around my arm in a gentle squeeze. The look in her eyes told me she understood exactly how I felt, that she regretted the many years she’d been separated from her sisters. But her touch also reminded me we had the present to spend with our loved ones and hopefully many more years in the future. We couldn’t focus on the regrets of what was lost. Instead, we needed to cherish what we had left.