Page 23 of The Conqueror’s Lady (The Knights of Brittany #2)

Taerford Manor Keep Wessex, England January, 1067

I t had taken weeks more to sort out the aftermath of that day, but Bishop Obert proved to be a thoughtful and fair judge of her husband’s actions. Of course, Giles’s pledge of the current keep and the lands immediately surrounding it for a monastery once they moved further upriver might have smoothed the way. He also had to pledge to help both Brice and Soren when they called upon him to rid the lands of any remaining rebels.

As her husband suspected, the bishop, though serving William, was a pious man of God and welcomed the opportunity that Giles offered. With his grant expanding the Taerford holdings far past what her father had held, it made sense to locate their new manor house, whatever her Breton husband called it, closer to the new lands and the old.

They spent these short days of winter preparing for the spring when they would finally be able to begin building the keep. He’d even promised her a chamber of her own, for the ladies he said she must have at her side. His friend’s wife had written to her, welcoming her as friend and offering the names of two young women who she thought would be amiable companions.

Though accepting the runaways and outlaws onto their land during the winter would be a burden, Giles told the bishop he thought it suitable punishment for failing in his attempt to capture Edmund. If Obert of Caen thought differently, he said not and happily ended his investigation, despite much objection from and stern warnings to Sir Eudes.

Before the bishop left, he’d presented Brice with his grant for lands in Thaxted. There had been trouble there as well, with the old lord’s son leading the rebels against King William. Brice would gain the hand of Gillian of Thaxted in marriage, if he could find her and if he could wrestle the keep from her brother. Brice yet remained with them until the winter’s snows passed and the roads north opened.

The best news arrived after the bishop returned to London, for it was news that their friend did indeed still live. Giles and Brice often spoke of Soren to Fayth, sharing stories of their misspent youth and bawdy tales she did not need to hear. They believed he might die from his wounds on the battlefield, yet word came of his recovery and his plan to move northward in the spring to claim his lands.

Although they spent the longer nights of winter in pleasurable pursuits, Fayth took time to teach Giles to read and write. His request surprised her, but his determination did not and in only weeks he had progressed beyond both of their expectations.

Now, with the snow covering the lands and much work ahead in the spring, she decided it was time to share her news with her husband.

The stomach ailment she’d suffered the day of her kidnapping returned again and again and, though not experienced in such matters, it did not take long for her to realise her condition. Emma, who mentioned her courses were late yet again, brought it to her attention. With the number of times her husband had bedded her, it should be no surprise to anyone, but she waited to be certain before revealing it to Giles.

One cold January day, when the winds howled and everyone stayed inside waiting for the storm to pass, Giles ordered her to bed because she looked so pale. It was not such a punishment since he joined her there and when he began exploring her body, touching her and wooing her with his mouth and hands, she discovered she did not feel as poorly as she’d thought. His hands and mouth on her breasts caused a sensitivity she’d not felt before and she wondered if it was due to the babe she carried inside.

When Giles rolled to his side and pulled her into his arms and when they could both breathe again, she took the hand he used to tease her breast and placed it on her belly. There was no sign there yet of her condition, but by winter’s end it would show, Emma had told her.

‘The spring will be a busy time for us,’ she said, watching his face to savour the moment he understood.

‘Aye, the new keep should be finished by planting time,’ he said. ‘Hallam has many plans for the new fields.’

‘I think that summer and autumn will prove just as busy, husband,’ she began. ‘Crops in the field to bring to harvest, preparations for the winter, a babe to care for, men to train…’

She was prepared to continue listing all the tasks ahead, but the expression on his face and the way his hand now touched her belly told her that he understood.

‘Truly?’ he whispered, spreading his hand wide across her belly. ‘Truly?’

‘Aye, husband. Emma thinks late August.’

‘At harvest time? That is a busy time,’ he teased. ‘We will keep you working in the fields until the pains are upon you.’

‘If you show your lands the same care that you show your wife, I suspect fertility will abound here in Taerford.’

‘I like the sound of that, lady wife. I must be diligent in my care.’ He leaned over and kissed her then, a tender kiss that spoke of his happiness over the news. ‘Have you considered what to name the new lord or lady of Taerford?’

‘’ Tis too early for that, Giles. The birth is months and months away.’

‘We will discuss our choice for a boy’s name, if we are blessed with a son, but I already know what we will call a daughter if so blessed.’

‘You do?’ she asked, though she suspected what it might be.

He’d told her over and over how he’d never allowed himself to think that he would ever be more than a bastard knight, riding in service for one lord or another. But something in the words of his friend Simon had spurred him on in his dreams and given him…

‘Hope,’ they both said at the same time.

He kissed her then, one that spoke of hope and the future and love. And if they stayed abed a few more hours, who would notice such a thing on the dark day of winter?

And so, on the morning of the sixth day of August in the Year of Our Lord 1067, Lady Hope was born in Taerford Keep. But if you asked anyone who lived there, they could tell you that hope came to Taerford the year before, in the guise of a Norman, nay Breton, conqueror.