Authors: Dee Brice
“Choice,” she whispered, “aye. My choice, but—”
He watched revelation rise in her crystal blue eyes and held
his breath.
“Is it possible my parents knew of your wealth? Knew that
you—
you
hold the key to riches beyond their wildest dreams?”
“I failed soothsaying. I cannot say with any certainty what
your parents did or did not know about my brothers and me.”
“Edgar!”
“Rowena, my love. My heart.”
“My very soul. I…I
am
truly sorry I doubted
your…your—”
“Ability to make a home for you and our children?”
“Never that. I knew—
knew
from the very instant you
winked at me—that my heart belonged to you.”
“But I never winked at you, Rowena. Edina was the
only
woman I saw at Gareth’s wedding.”
Then—though she had longed for long days and interminable
nights to do so—only then did she box his ears.
“Who,” she demanded through clenched teeth, “is Edina?”
“Damned if I know,” Edgar replied then lost himself in
Rowena’s ardent kisses.
Gerard—
wretched man
—caught up with Edina just after
she crossed the drawbridge. The sound of pounding hooves startling her, she
looked up. Gathering her kirtle above her knees, she bolted toward the bailey.
Before she reached the portcullis, he swept her up, kicking and screaming, then
rode off.
“’Tis fortunate,” he said when he’d slowed his destrier to a
walk, “for us both that my horse is trained for battle.”
“Meaning?” Edina asked, hopefully conveying a princess royal
totally out of sorts.
“Were he not well-trained, your caterwauling and kicking
could have frightened him. He’d either try to unseat me—causing me to drop
you—or he’d run who knows where or for how long.
“Where were you going, Edina?”
She glared up at him. “You mistake me for my sister. I am
Rowena and I
was
going to talk to Edgar. As you advised me to do.”
“Do you realize,
Edina
, that when you’re angry your
freckles stand out even more?”
Realizing he’d caught her in a lie, she covered her nose
with her hand.
Gerard laughed. “’Twas not your freckles that gave you away.
I saw Rowena earlier. Tears streaked her cheeks, but she marched into camp like
a warrior girded for battle. She went straight to Edgar’s tent.”
“Oh,” Edina said weakly.
“You broke your promise, Edina. The one you made the night
you and Rowena seduced Edgar and me. You promised the games would end.”
“Oh,” she said again.
“I could beat you for lying to me, Edina.”
“We aren’t married yet, Gerard,” she retorted, anger
replacing shame.
“As good as.” He reined his horse to a stop. “Although
you’ve given me few reasons to trust you, if you promise not to run, I’ll put
you down.”
Edina glanced around and recognized the path to the willows.
Looking down, she clutched at Gerard’s shirt. The ground seemed leagues below
her.
“Your horse is very tall, Gerard.”
“Very tall, Edina.” He chuckled. Wrapping one arm around her
waist, he dismounted. “You are safe now.” One by one, he disengaged her fingers
from his shirt.
“Am I? Have you brought me here—to our willow—to bed me?”
“Well…I thought we would talk first. What happens afterward
is up to you.”
Her held breath eased out. “Oh.”
Taking her hand, he led her to the river, stopping at its
banks. She slanted him a questioning look but held her tongue. If he wished to
put off their talk she’d offer no objection. She felt unsure enough about that
conversation to welcome any delay.
“I find the sound of flowing water soothing. I thought we
might sit here, perhaps dangle our feet in the river.”
“You said the water is too cold,” she reminded him.
“When we first came here the water was too cold. Today,” he
shrugged, “shall we find out?”
She nodded.
“This boulder looks as if countless fishermen have sat on
it. Their arses have worn the stone into seats.”
Laughing softly, she kept her hand in his. He helped her
down the bank, steadying her as she sat. “Why are you being so kind to me,
Gerard?”
“’Tis useless to remain angry. I suspect you wanted to talk
to Edgar for Rowena’s sake. Did you search the castle for him?”
“The farrier’s and the rest of the bailey. The apple
orchard.” Sighing, she asked again, “Why this kindness I don’t deserve?”
“You love your sister and want her happy.”
“As you love Edgar and wish for his happiness.” She looked
down at her hands. Seeing her fingers clenched into fists, she placed her hands
in her lap and took a deep breath for courage. “Why did you stop me?”
Gerard skipped a small stone across the river and watched it
sink. “As much as we want to protect our siblings, we cannot. We won’t always
be with them and, even if we were always together, at some point each of us
must stand for ourselves, Edina. Alone.” He sighed as he looked directly into
her eyes. “Edgar took his stand today. And I shall forever bless Rowena for
taking hers.”
“Because she went to him?”
“Aye. Because she refused to let his stubbornness and her
own pride stand between them.”
“She loves him. What else could she do?”
“Nothing except what she did. ‘Tis the perfect dowry to take
to him. It allows them both to recognize their love for each other.”
As if he knew Edina was feeling unloved and unlovable, he
took her hand. Entwined his fingers with hers. Pressed both their hands to his
heart.
“You must know, Edina, that—had nature not intervened—you
would marry Edgar.”
“Aye. ‘Twould make more sense for the elder brother to marry
the older sister. Even though she is older by only ten minutes.”
“Rowena and I would rule Beaufort. You and Edgar—thanks to
Willa’s generosity—would rule Serenity.”
“Since nature
did
inconveniently intervene, which
would you prefer, Gerard? Beaufort or Serenity?”
“’S’truth? I would prefer to remain a landless prince. But,
since the woman I most desire comes with a kingdom or a dukedom as her dowry,”
he shrugged, “I’ll make do.”
“Why is it so difficult to say the words, Gerard? There are
only three of them. Each has only a few letters.”
“Can you say them?”
“I have said them. To you.”
“While pretending yet again to be Rowena.”
“While you pretended not to know ‘twas
me
you bedded.”
Hearing the anger in his own voice, Gerard raked his hair.
“I have said the words every night since we met,” he confessed. “In my mind. In
my heart. In my every prayer. I thought myself an idiot. Ruled by an
uncontrollable urge to swive. To mate. Desire—lust—I understood. But wanting
nothing more than to see you, to hear your voice, to watch your smile bloom
when you saw me… Those emotions—those cravings—I failed to comprehend. I am
still failing.” He grinned, a smile that felt as if he had banished all cares.
“I don’t mind failing. I love you.”
“Oh Gerard. You have just given me the most precious gift in
the world. Echoing your words—I love you too—seems so paltry.” With her free
hand, she swiped at her tears. “When you winked at me in the chapel, I thought
my heart would pound out of my chest. You’d looked so solemn during the wedding
ceremony I feared you incapable of playing. Then—when you winked at me again as
I went up the stairs—”
“You winked first,” he reminded her.
She felt her cheeks heat. “’Twas something Rowena would do
without thought. I…I felt very brave, even daring. And wanton. And more
confused than I’ve ever felt in my life. Despite my behavior later, I had never
done anything so bold.
“I wanted to tell you at the very beginning that there are
two of us. But we—Rowena and I had made a pact. And I desperately wanted you to
know
me
for me.”
“It took some time, but I’m glad I finally figured out how
to tell you from your sister. ‘Tis the strangest thing, but when Rowena was
with me, I felt
different
than I do when you and I are together. I find
you peaceful.”
She giggled. “I think I’d rather you find me exciting.”
“I do. Were you any more exciting, Edina, I’d be dead.”
“Not for many, many years, Gerard. I want to grow old with
you, watch our children age, and their children grow to maturity.”
He kissed her. A brief kiss, but one that held his heart.
His love.
“Would you mind terribly if we live at Serenity?”
“I can find happiness anywhere, so long as you are with me.”
“But what do you want, Gerard?”
Edina’s soft voice broke through his happy mindlessness.
“Want?”
“Want, aye. For yourself. If you were free to do whatever
you want to do, what would you choose?”
“Free?” he echoed, feeling as if the word itself had muddled
his mind.
Edina sat up, peering into his eyes. He thought she believed
him crazed. Yet, in all his seven-and-twenty years, he had never thought to do
or be anything more than he already did or was.
“Indulge me, Gerard.” She smoothed an errant lock of hair
from his forehead. Most likely checking for fever. “Pretend you have no
responsibilities. That you owe Gareth and Edgar, Puttupon and its people—even
me—nothing. What would you do?”
Although it went against his nature, Gerard tried to lighten
her serious mood. “As a boy I thought to run away with the
jongeur
who
visited The Eyrie. I dreamed of traveling with them but…my juggling skills went
missing.”
“Your skills with your lute are excellent. You could become
a minstrel. Any court would pay you handsomely for those skills.”
“Any court. Aye, any court—until I opened my mouth to decry
some small failure in the king’s governing or mentioned the steward’s thieving
or complained about whatever discrepancies I discovered that neither Garr nor
Gareth would tolerate.”
“Would
you
tolerate those failures, Gerard? Without
your father or your brother judging you, what would you do?”
Catching him unawares, a well of bitterness opened inside
him. He fought it down, saying, “I truly don’t know, Edina. I have been a
second son—a king in training—for so long I’ve not thought about any other
life.”
Edina sighed. “I also know those constraints. Rowena always
had Father’s approval. Once he accepted he’d sire no male heir, that is. From
that point on—no matter how much mischief we created—Rowena could do no wrong.
“Which he still believes. Which means he wants Rowena to
have Beaufort—no matter that he pretends indifference.” She frowned then smiled
once more. “Not that I blame my sister. ‘Tis virtually impossible to hate
someone who takes responsibility half the time for some scheme of yours. Of
mine.”
Gerard felt the laugh building in his belly. It came out as
a snort, followed by a roar that shook his entire body.
Edina leaned her head against his chest. “Do you know why I
want Serenity for us? To be free of constant scrutiny, of constant comparison
and constantly being found lacking.”
Gerard pressed a kiss in her palm. “I shall enjoy digging in
the fields. Seeing plants we grow feed us and our people.”
She grinned up at him. “A princely farmer. That suits you,
Gerard.”
“We’ll find out, won’t we?”
“Aye, we shall. I hope Willa will have time to advise us.
The only thing I’ve ever planted turned out to be a weed.”
Laughing, Gerard scooped her up then waded into the river.
* * * * *
Aida’s Solar
Seeing her nieces sitting with their husbands in her solar
made Aida sigh. Noting her happy smile, wearing a smile of his own, Gaspar
patted her hand. She entwined their fingers and sighed again.
She knew this contentment, this quiet joy, would last a
short time only. Soon—too soon—Yvonne and Gareth would leave Marchonland for
Puttupon. Willa and Vinn would return to his Eyrie. And only God knew how long
Pippa and Banan would stay. Of all her girls, Pippa most resented living under
Aida’s meddling rule. If only she could assure her youngest niece that her
meddling days had ended with Pippa’s and her sisters’ marriages. But Pippa
would need more than words to convince her.
“I believe ‘tis time to tell them of our plans, Aida.”
Although Gaspar had spoken softly, all conversation ceased.
“What plans, Aunt?” Pippa’s gold-flecked brown eyes narrowed
and suspicion turned her lips down at the corners.
“Pippa! Not returned a day and already spoiling for a
fight,” Willa scolded gently.
“’Tis her right,” Aida soothed. “She will rule here as
regent once the rest of you leave.”
“So my aunt claims,” Pippa groused. Banan squeezed her hand,
effectively silencing her.
“What plans, Aunt?” Yvonne repeated Pippa’s question.
Gaspar answered. “Before the family disperses, we intend to
marry and move to the manor house on Marchon’s border.”
Yvonne and Willa rushed to hug Aida and to kiss Gaspar’s
flushed cheek. The husbands raised their tankards and called out their best
wishes.
“A quiet ceremony,” Aida said, her gaze focused on Pippa’s
sullen face.
“I forbid it! That is, Mother forbade you to marry.
Therefore, I also forbid it.”
“Why?” Banan asked. “Why did Kerrie forbid them to marry?”
Vinn and Gareth leaned forward in their chairs, their
interest apparent. Willa and Yvonne looked puzzled.
Gaspar squeezed Aida’s hand, saying, “Although Audra—Kerrie
and Aida’s mother—said nothing to us…Aida and I believe she knew we would have
no children of our own.”
“So?” Pippa sniped.
“
Your
mother,” Aida said, clinging to Gaspar’s hand,
“was determined not to marry. Audra used my barrenness—”
“Our barrenness,” Gaspar corrected gently.
“To force Kerrie to produce an heir for Marchonland.”
Gaspar continued. “Your aunt and I were content as we were
and saw no need to marry. Until now.”
“Seeing you so happy with one another…” Aida sighed and
brushed away a tear.
“Your regency here at Marchonland has yet to begin,” Yvonne
reminded her red-faced youngest sister. “Should Willa decide to remain here—”
“I shan’t. The Eyrie will keep Vinn and me busy and content
for years. Then—should Rowena or Edina refuse Serenity…”
“As queen,” Yvonne continued, addressing Aida and Gaspar. “I
give you my blessing to wed, but…a quiet ceremony is out of the question.
Everyone on Marchonland loves you both and will want to wish you happy.” Before
Pippa could mutter another protest, Yvonne continued. “As soon as Basil and
Beatrix depart, we shall have another wedding.”
Gareth’s muffled chuckle brought her eyes to his face.
“I do not consider Beaufort’s rulers family, Gareth.
Moreover, I have little wish to have them witness the love our people have for
Aida and Gaspar. It might make them feel slighted—despite the twins’ short
acquaintance with all of us.”