Word of Honor (Knights of Valor Book 1) (21 page)

Geoffrey
settled Johamma and Hobard at a trestle table in the Great Hall. He signaled
for Tilda to bring them something to eat since the evening meal had come and
gone and for a page to bring drink. The page poured them wine, while Tilda
returned with enough to feed half a dozen men. He instructed her to prepare a
tray that he could take up and privately sup with Merryn.

Tension
fell from him. Now that he’d been assured Hardi would make a full recovery, he
thanked God Almighty. He didn’t know if he could carry the burden of guilt if he
had been the cause of Hardi’s death.

He watched
Johamma happily eating, knowing that she almost had been as Merryn had—a bride
who’d spent but a single night of wedded bliss with her bridegroom. Thank the
Christ he had actually returned to his wife. A different man, yes. But he
sensed his confidence growing with time.

And it was
all due to his wife’s loving hand.

Tilda
appeared at his arm with the tray. He thanked her and bid good night to Hobard
and Johamma, promising to see them off on the morrow. As Geoffrey crossed the
Great Hall, Alys stopped him, latching onto his leg and squeezing it tightly.

He set the
tray on a nearby table and picked the child up, swinging her high, his heart
bursting with love at her squeal of delight. He wanted to spend as much time as
possible with his children, treasuring simple moments such as this.

Geoffrey
brought Alys back to the ground. She kissed his cheek. He believed himself the
happiest of men, with such a lovely daughter that gave him her affection so
freely.

“The king
is gone, Father.”

“Aye, he is
indeed. We have had a great many guests at Kinwick. The last depart on the morrow.”
He laid a hand on her thin shoulder. “Would you like us to spend time together
after we break our fast?”

Her eyes
lit up. “Oh, please, Father.”

“What would
you have us do?”

Alys
thought a moment. “You could help me ride my pony. Gilbert has been teaching
us. But you could help now.”

“That I can
do.”

“And we
could pick flowers in the meadow for Mother. She loves flowers.”

Geoffrey
thought of the moment he’d first seen Merryn after escaping from the dark
times. Alys had been with her in the meadow. He remembered watching the two
together and when he realized Alys was her child.

Their
child.

He cupped
her tiny face in his large hands. “We shall do both, my little love. Riding
then flower picking. I cannot think of a more delightful day.”

The girl
clapped her hands together in glee. “Just us, Father. No Ancel.”

Geoffrey
agreed as he reached for the tray. “I need to take this to your mother. She
must be famished.” He dropped a kiss atop his daughter’s head. “Good night, my
sweet.”

He watched
her skip across the Great Hall. His eyes searched for Ancel and spied him
swinging his toy sword, entertaining a group of his men. He wished he could
right things with his boy. Merryn cautioned him it might take more time for
Ancel to come around. Maybe he could tutor the boy in swordplay or take him
hunting. Anything to bring them closer together.

His eye
caught Raynor’s, who sat in the group watching Ancel’s antics. They nodded at
one another. He also hoped he could right things with his cousin. After he’d
heard Raynor’s declaration of love to Merryn, it brought him anguish to look
upon him.

Yet could
he blame Raynor? Everyone—even the king of England himself—was a little in love
with her. And why not? She was the most beautiful, desirable, intelligent woman
in all the land.

And she
belonged to him.

Geoffrey
left the Great Hall and ascended the staircase, moving to the bedchambers on
the second floor. The solar lay at the far end of the long corridor. He entered
and placed the tray upon a table. He lifted the carafe of wine provided by a
thoughtful Tilda and poured out two cups. He wondered if he should fetch Merryn
or if he should wait for her to leave the bedchamber and Hardi’s side.

Before he
could make up his mind, he heard a crash. Merryn stumbled from the room
blindly, a look of horror upon her delicate features.

She knew.

His gut
told him so in an instant. Hardi had spoken to her of his father’s wrongdoing.
It shocked him. If the earl had been on his deathbed, Geoffrey could see him
spilling the secret, not wanting to go to God with such a burden upon his
conscience.

Yet Hardi
had pulled through. Though serious, his injuries had not been life-threatening.
And still he had shared the story with Merryn. He was certain of it.

Geoffrey
felt the kinship he’d once experienced with the boy who’d kept him company all
those years, secretly defying his father. Mayhap the young earl would be a much
more honorable man after all. And now that Merryn knew, a peace washed over
him, unlike none he had known since his return to Kinwick.

“Geoffrey!”
Merryn caught sight of him and ran to him.

She threw
herself in his arms. She clung to him, sobbing uncontrollably. He did the best
he could to offer her comfort, holding her closely, whispering nonsense to her,
trying to calm her. He finally realized he must let her cry it out, and so he
did. As far as he was concerned, his wife could remain in his arms forever,
drawing strength and solace.

While he
held her, Geoffrey sensed a load lifted from him. His oath to Hardi, which had
caused a rift in their marriage, had been lifted. No longer would he ever keep
a secret from Merryn.

Breathing a
sigh of relief, he swept her off her feet and carried her to the nearest chair.
He sat and cradled her upon his lap, brushing the tears from her cheeks.

When she
finally relaxed, Merryn gazed into his eyes. He saw hers filled with concern
for him. He held his palm to her face, his thumb brushing slowly across her
lower lip.

“Hardi told
me. Everything.”

Geoffrey
only nodded, not sure if words could come.

“’Tis
true?”

He sighed.
“I am sure what he told you was true.”

She got the
familiar, stubborn look in her eye. “I would hear it from you. I would know if
he spoke falsely of anything.”

“Need I
repeat it, my love?”

“Aye,” she
whispered. “I must hear it from your lips.”

Geoffrey
sat silently for a moment. He supposed since Hardi had confessed all that had occurred
to Merryn, it freed him to speak of the matter plainly to her.

He settled
back into the chair, drawing her head down to his chest. He could tell her, but
he didn’t know if he could look at her as he did.

“’Tis a
long tale, but I shall be brief in presenting it to you.”

He
explained of that day long ago in France. What he had witnessed. How he had
taken his concerns to the Black Prince and his advisers. How Barrett denied the
charges even though proof of his treason was produced for all to see. Of their
trial by battle and his victory, which signaled Barrett’s death.

“The Duke
of Lancaster arrived with his troops to reinforce those of the Black Prince
just before Barrett’s execution.”

Merryn
stirred in his arms. “And I know Lord Berold fought with Lancaster.”

“He did.
And witnessed his son’s beheading.” Geoffrey paused, his mouth gone dry.

“Hardi told
me his father confronted you after his son’s death.”

“I shall
never forget his words.” Pain at recollecting the scene almost overcame him.
“Berold told me he would bring me to my knees. That I would long for a death
which he would keep from me.” He shuddered, caught back in time. “I tried to
brush it off, mad words of a grieving father.”

“But he
acted upon them,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion. “At the hunting
lodge.”

“That he
did.”

Geoffrey
stroked her hair gently, not wishing to relive the time of horror, but knowing
he must bring their conversation to a conclusion.

“One of his
soldiers aimed the shot which pinned me to the tree. He and another of Berold’s
men freed me after you left for help. They brought me to Winterbourne. After
they placed me in the dungeons, Berold killed them with his own hand. He did
not want anyone to know he had taken me.”

“Except Hardi,”
Merryn said dully. “And he was but a boy.”

He nodded
against her. “The earl wanted me to suffer as he had. He pulled Hardi from
where the boy happily fostered and told him of the blood feud between our
families. Once Berold passed away, he instructed Hardi to continue holding me
prisoner till my own death, feeding me only enough to exist upon and never
addressing me by name.”

Merryn sat
up and faced him. “My God, Geoffrey! What a heinous act. To keep you in
darkness, feeding you only enough to keep you alive. How you must have
suffered! I am horrified by the evilness of it all.”

She broke
away from him and stood. As she paced the room, her anger grew. He knew better
than interrupt her. He would let it run its course instead.

“The king
must be told. At once! And I want Winterbourne gone from under our roof. This
instant!” She thought a moment. A wild look appeared in her eye. “God in
Heaven. He wanted our children to foster with him.
Our children!
By the
Christ, I would never let my babes live under such wickedness. Never! I shall
call in that favor he said he would gift me with. Ancel and Alys will never
cross the threshold of Winterbourne. Ever, ever!”

Geoffrey
hated to see her in distress. He rose and captured her in his arms.

“Calm
yourself, my love.”

“I will
not!” she declared, her face flush with anger. “He allowed almost seven years
of your life to be stolen from you. Years we were torn apart. When I did not
know if you were alive or dead. Years in which your children grew without you.
Nothing could ever replace that debt. Nothing he could ever do would make me
forgive him.”

He shook
her. “Merryn. Stop.”

She whipped
her head around and glared daggers at him.

“Listen to
me. Please. I know you and the twins were wronged. I was, too.”

Geoffrey
drew her into the chair and knelt beside her. Merryn perched on the edge,
looking as if she might bolt from it at any moment.

“’Twas
Berold who committed these sins upon us. Berold. Hardi was but a boy. An
innocent boy. Hardi defied his father. He was never to enter the dungeons again
until the earl perished, then he was to take up the task of keeping me in that
living death.

“He did not
do that.”

Merryn
frowned. “What mean you?”

Apparently,
Hardi had not told her all of the truth. “He visited me several times a week
without his father’s knowledge. Brought me extra food. A blanket. We had many
talks over the years. If not for Hardi, I shudder to think what would have come
of my sanity.”

“He could
have freed you,” she whispered.

Geoffrey
looked knowingly at her. “In truth? If he released me, how would he smuggle me
from Winterbourne? And if that had happened by some miracle and I’d returned to
Kinwick, what would have happened to Hardi himself? You know Berold to be a
hard man. Hardi was the only soul who knew I endured in Winterbourne’s
dungeons. I would not have put it past the old man to kill his son in a rage
once he learned I was missing from that cell.”

He paused.
“Yes, what Berold did to me was inhumane. But ‘tis over, my love. Hardi chose
to free me. I would still be a prisoner if not for his actions. He did have me
swear an oath never to reveal where I had been and what his father had done to
me. Whether he was shamed by the man’s actions or thought to protect his own
family name?” Geoffrey shrugged. “‘Tis beside the point. Hardi. Freed. Me,” he
emphasized.

“And you
came back to me.” Merryn slid from the chair and held fast to him for some
minutes.

“Hardi is
innocent in the matter. Johamma is blameless, too. I doubt he revealed to her
what was done to me.” He sighed. “And the twins are to foster in King Edward’s
household. He took a liking to them, and he was going to persuade Hardi to
grant him the privilege of having them foster with him and the queen. He was to
do so at the feast after the jousting. I have every faith that the king will
keep his word.”

Merryn
sniffed. “But London is so far away. And if ‘tis true that Hardi saved you,
mayhap I have judged him too harshly.”

“I believe Hardi
wants to be a much better man than his father ever dreamt of being. Having
Ancel and Alys foster with him and Johamma could be his way of making up for
the sins of the past. He’s acknowledged the wrongs done to both of us. Mayhap
we should give him a chance.” Geoffrey smiled at her in hope. “‘Twould allow
the twins to be close to us. We could see them often if they fostered next to
Kinwick.”

He saw her contemplate
his words. Finally, she spoke. “We have much to consider. I believe we
shouldn’t be hasty. Let us think upon things, Geoffrey. No decision is required
for some time.”