Page 51

Grahame

“How fare you?” Grahame asked, a huge smile stretching his mouth.

Fat snowflakes floated from the sky, landing on his and Adara’s heads. They had been lucky enough to have fortunate weather all the way to Hyrstow.

“Well,” Branton replied as he brought Grahame into a massive hug.

They two men clapped one another’s backs heartily before separating, knowing it would be all too soon before they would say goodbye. Grahame pushed those feelings aside. There was no helping their living so far apart. He resolved to be thankful for the few times per year he did see his friends.

“Don’t hog him, Dad,” Neil said from behind his father.

Grahame chuckled, releasing his brother-in-law.

He ushered Adara over the threshold then scooped his arm around Neil’s neck, pulling him down to rub the knuckles of his other hand into his nephew’s hair.

A scoffing laugh broke from Neil as he easily pushed Grahame away.

Neil was a man now, as tall as Grahame. To his right, Adara was clasped in Emma’s tight embrace.

“How was the trip?” Emma inquired as she let his wife go.

Grahame was already making the rounds of hugs, marveling at how the children had grown. His surprise was postponed by Yrsa and Ridley’s children barging through the open door.

“Uncle Grahame! Aunt ’Dara!” Estrid exclaimed as she shoved her way through the throng. Her dark hair fell over her face as she received a reciprocal push from AEfflead.

“Wait your turn,” AEfflead said, her voice light yet strong.

Estrid grunted as she tossed her hair out of her eyes but did not listen to her elder friend, instead winding through bodies to clasp Adara’s legs.

“The trip was long,” Adara answered Emma as she embraced energetic Estrid.

The little girl was practically bouncing. Hanging back was little blond Bjorn, Yrsa and Ridley’s son. He held onto his mother’s hand, his large eyes taking in the busy room. Though merely age four, he held the quiet wisdom of his father.

“Let us in!” Yrsa called from behind. “It is freezing out here.”

Grahame chuckled as he herded the children toward the living area.

Thankfully, the space had grown since he’d moved from Hyrstow.

Branton had extended the right wall to make the main room larger.

He’d added two bedrooms to accommodate his and Emma’s growing family.

After the birth of Timothy, they’d been blessed with another little girl, Briony, who looked up at him with wide eyes.

Grahame couldn’t blame her. She only knew him as a faraway uncle, though she likely heard more about him as Earl of Bernira.

Still, he winked at her, ensuring his grin was wide and welcoming.

After greetings were finished, Emma revealed the feast she’d prepared. Sweet buns, ham, a medley of buttered beetroots and carrots, creamed peas, onion-roasted pheasant, and a fine mead spread across the table.

“Emma, this is too much,” Adara said in awe.

They settled at the large table Branton had built, ready to dig in after a long day.

Emma’s wide grin made something in Grahame sing. She and Branton had prospered over the years, though time was not without struggle. Branton had been a mess when Emma had delivered Timothy, resorting to his withdrawn tendencies as she neared the birth.

They’d had a reckoning when the time came.

He’d been better when Briony came along two years later, a surprise for all.

Steadfast, Emma had grown her baking business, teaching her daughters, Merthe, Ginnie, and AEfflead baking skills as the years progressed.

To see their prosperous happiness now, years after their struggle, was a gift.

“She always makes too much,” Yrsa said around the roll she chewed.

Merthe, standing at the side table mixing a concoction of oil and herbs, cleared her throat.

“Of course, Merthe did much of it,” Yrsa was quick to amend.

Merthe’s lips twitched upward, something Grahame noticed Neil tracked with hungry eyes.

“So,” Ridley said once everyone’s plates were full, “tell us of the northerners.”

Grahame shifted in his seat. He glanced at Adara, who had stilled beside him.

“They are no longer interested in moving south,” Grahame answered.

“How? They had a formidable force ready. We were unsure you would even be able to visit, the threat they posed was so great,” Branton commented.

Briony sat in his lap, smacking her small hands on the tabletop. When she grew bored, she reached up to tug at her father’s beard. He grunted, his eyes widening with the pain. Bjorn covered his snicker with his hand. The action mirrored his mother’s.

“Here,” Adara said, reaching out, “give her to me.”

Grahame had to smother his smile at their surprise when Adara came around the table. His wife held out her hands, and in a light, high-pitched voice asked Briony, “Do you want to sit with me?”

Yrsa nearly dropped her knife. She cleared her throat and took a drink of mead to hide the fumble.

Briony stared up at Adara with awe. Grahame had to admit, Adara was spectacular in her navy riding dress, the sheen of which screamed expense.

The small combs that held her hair from her face were delicate, and the fine shoes she wore were likely more costly than anything in the Cutter’s house.

“Well?” Adara asked the child, her confidence faltering.

She glanced at Grahame, her gray eyes unsure.

He offered her an encouraging nod. It was no secret that the children preferred their uncle Grahame to his beautiful, intimidating wife.

Though he and Adara had tried for children of their own, they had not yet been granted any.

It caused Adara to be stiff around them. Formal.

Grahame drew the attention away from Adara by answering the question of the northerners.

“The Britons readied themselves, but our soldiers knew the marshes. They could not invade. Earl Lachlan sent a force, as well as Wessex. Turns out, when we all band together, good things come of it.”

Grahame tipped up a shoulder in a shrug.

He’d left out the part where he’d kept the other earls in line when land squabbles broke out while Adara negotiated with the Briton king.

As much as he wanted to delve into the logistics of how Adara expertly wielded her knowledge and favors for the best outcome, he knew his closest friends were far removed from the struggles of territory.

Their life in Hyrstow was very different from the lives he and Adara lived.

Across the table, Briony made her choice.

She silently climbed off Branton and scrambled into Adara’s awaiting arms. With a little nod from Bran, Adara turned to settle in her seat with a wiggly Briony.

His wife’s lips twitched upward with satisfaction.

It nearly cut him in two, it was so beautiful. Hope shined in her eyes.

“We have something else to share,” Grahame said.

He placed his hand on Adara’s lower back as a grin spread across his lips. Everyone lifted their heads from their meals to stare. Grahame smiled wider. He could sense Adara pause, taking one more moment to cherish their privacy. Then happiness crinkled the corners of her eyes.

“We are to have a baby,” she said.

Ridley’s mouth dropped open. Emma whooped, then pressed her lips together to suppress the giggle that sprang forth.

Yrsa only offered a savage grin as she leaned across the table, offering her hand to Adara.

Adara took it, tears glistening in her eyes.

The two women stared at one another for a moment, joy palpable between them.

“You’ll be one of us!” Branton said. He came around to Grahame, giving him a hearty smack on the back. “Congratulations, brother!”

Grahame ducked his head, overwhelmed with emotion.

“How far?” Emma asked. She ran a hand over Timothy’s head of dark curls. The boy sat beside her, swinging his legs.

“The midwife guesses I am close to half way through,” Adara beamed. She glanced at Grahame. He couldn’t help himself. Ducking close, he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Ah, a spring babe. How wonderful,” Ginnie said.

“Thank you,” Adara replied, “for everything.”

Grahame swiped his hand over Briony’s head as sidled closer to Adara. The little girl laughed. His heart swelled with something more than gratitude, brighter than joy.

Even after years of happiness with Adara, he still looked forward to every moment they had yet to experience.

Life’s turbulence, its utter madness at times, made the good times even sweeter.

So, Grahame, the earl of Bernira, kissed his wife again, then smothered his friends in a round of hugs and laughs.