Page 40

Five years later

I sabella sat on a cushioned bench in a wide field with her daughter, Alais, asleep on her shoulder.

A passel of flower-crowned children capered in and around a circle of dancers from the village.

The scents of new flowers and fresh grass wafted over the field, making Isabella’s heart sing.

Bright afternoon sun warmed the spring-crisp air as the sounds of music and revelry filled her with a sense that all was right with the world.

Her beloved brother, Crispin, sat beside her, decked out in finery befitting the new Earl of Bamburgh.

It was so strange to see him in such formal attire and was completely at odds with his unruly chestnut hair and warm brown eyes.

But even as her thoughts were with her brother, her eyes were on her rambunctious children.

“Charles, no pulling your sister’s hair,” she called out, interrupting her son as he chased little Carenza at high speed between dancers, cackling with glee.

Carenza, gripping her flower crown in one hand, darted in and out of the circle of dancing children with all the speed her four-year-old feet could summon to escape her brother.

Martin grinned and winked at her from where he sat on a raised dais with a group of musicians from the town, playing merry tunes with a galloping beat that seemed to egg the children on to even greater heights of wild revelry.

She smiled back and blew him a kiss. The smoldering look he gave her in return made her squeeze her knees together, even though she was round with their fourth child.

“It’s good to see you so happy,” Crispin said beside her. “I don’t think I’ve seen you this content and relaxed since we were children in Bordeaux.”

She chuckled ruefully. “Even in Bordeaux we still had to deal with Mother. Are you sure she’s dead? I was convinced she would live to be as old as Methuselah just to spite us.”

“She’s gone. I buried her myself a month and a half ago.

After Father passed, she seemed to make it her life’s sole purpose to make me miserable.

But then she was done in by her own horse.

You know how she treated all of God’s creatures.

I suppose the poor palfrey decided she’d been whipped one too many times and took revenge. ”

Isabella took a deep breath, or as deep a breath as she could take with the infant in her womb dancing a jig on her ribs.

News of her mother’s death, when she had received Crispin’s letter earlier in the month, had brought up a complicated mix of emotions.

Living a happy life in Winchelsea, far from her mother’s poisonous influence, Isabella could almost pity the woman.

What must her mother have gone through to have such a twisted and vindictive soul?

In the end, all she could concede was that Mother didn’t live a happy life.

Alais stirred against her, and she rocked her sweet baby back into a doze.

Isabella intended to be a very different kind of mother to her daughters.

She couldn’t entirely shake off the influence of how she was raised, but she would do her very best. “I won’t speak ill of the dead.

May she rest in peace and leave us alone is all I’ll say.

I was so sorry to hear about you and Eilidh. ”

Crispin hung his head. “She’s married to someone else now and far beyond my reach. But I don’t want to spend such a glorious day speaking of such depressing subjects. Tell me about Adelaide.”

Isabella smiled at the thought of her sister. After all she had been through in her youth, she’d somehow managed to grow into a healthy and strong young woman with a mind and will entirely her own.

“She’s in London right now, visiting my sister-in-law at court.

To say she’s thriving would be an understatement.

She’s blossomed into a beautiful, talented young lady.

Her health improved dramatically when we came to Winchelsea.

The milder weather and freedom from our parents did wonders for her.

You’d hardly recognize her if you saw her. ”

Crispin’s eyebrows rose. “You let her go to court? After all you went through trying to keep her away?”

She certainly had her misgivings, but Adelaide was her own person now. She could make up her mind about these things. “I could hardly keep her away from Eglantine, and I’ve long since forgiven the queen for marrying me off to Martin. I’ve visited with her a few times since my marriage.”

And fortunately, those visits had gone far better than she expected.

“Have you now?” Crispin shifted to look her in the eyes.

“I never would have suspected it, but I do believe she has a soft spot underneath all her prickliness. The first time I met with her after my marriage, I was prepared to do battle on Adelaide’s behalf, but the queen said she only asked for Adelaide for my sake.

She never liked my mother and thought Adelaide would be better off away from her.

And she truly did marry me to Martin because she thought we would make a good match.

Much as I resisted, I can hardly argue with her wisdom now. ”

It had surprised her greatly how much she had misjudged the queen.

Well, not entirely misjudged. The queen took diabolical pleasure in the execution of Lord James after he was found to be plotting with the King of France to unseat Henry.

And it all happened without her and Martin’s plotting.

Isabella was there for the beheading, and the queen’s smile was filled with cruel malice as the axe fell.

Much as Isabella loathed Lord James, she couldn’t bring herself to revel in his demise the way the queen did.

But relief washed over her when his head rolled.

To think she had almost married a traitor!

If she had, she very well might have shared his fate.

For so many reasons, she was glad that her husband had prevailed in the end.

She glanced again at Martin, who was thoroughly in his element, making music with the townspeople he loved.

Her heart swelled with adoration at the sight of him in all his mustachioed glory.

He was such a kind and loving soul. In every way, he was the opposite of Lord James.

How she had ever found the earl more attractive was beyond her.

She had eyes only for her husband now. There was no more handsome man in all of England, at least to her.

“You two can’t keep your eyes off each other, can you?”

Her cheeks heated at being caught out. “We like each other well enough,” she said lightly. The truth was that they were now so deeply entwined in each other’s lives and hearts that she could hardly remember what it was like before he came along.

Crispin laughed. “This is no marriage of convenience, however it may have started. You two are utterly besotted with each other. I can only hope that I find such marital bliss someday.”

Isabella put her hand on her brother’s and squeezed. “Don’t worry. You will. As soon as your heart heals from losing Eilidh, I’m certain the right woman will cross your path.”

Her brother sighed. “That could be a very long time.”

She squeezed his hand again. “We shall see.”

The musicians came to the end of a song and launched into another. Carenza came running over, crying like her favorite pony had died.

“Mama, Charles took my flowers.”

Sure enough, Charles was scampering around waving his sister’s flower crown above his head.

“Charles,” she called out in the sternest voice she could muster.

Her son’s eyes went wide, and his shoulders slumped as he trudged over to face the consequences of his actions.

Isabella pursed her lips and shook her head, doing her best not to laugh at her two children, who were now jabbing at each other with grubby, sticky fingers. Exactly how many honey cakes had they eaten today?

“Charles, did you steal your sister’s flower crown?” she asked carefully, keeping her mirth at bay.

“Yes, but she stole my wooden horsey.” He pointed an accusing finger at his little sister.

“Carenza, is this true?”

Her four-year-old daughter crossed her arms and glared at her brother.

“Tell the truth now, sweeting.” As she looked down on her strong-willed daughter she thought, Heaven above only knew what she’d be like when she was grown. “Carenza, I’m waiting.”

Carenza dropped her arms and dug into the tiny pouch she wore on her belt. “Here,” she said, thrusting it at her brother. “Now give me my flowers.” She made a grab at the crown, and Charles yanked it out of her reach, cackling with mischief.

“Charles,” Isabella warned.

Her son sighed, dropped the crown on the ground, and kicked it to his sister.

“Now, Charles. That wasn’t very chivalrous of you. What would a good knight do?”

At present, her son was mad for all things related to knighthood. She could get him to do just about anything by saying it was what a knight would do.

With a groan and an eyeroll, Charles knelt down and picked up the flower crown. He dusted it off roughly, then placed it on Carenza’s head. “My apologies, Lady Carenza.”

He bowed, and Carenza curtsied.

“Thank you, good Sir Charles,” Carenza said with all the ruffled dignity of a queen.

Crispin burst into laughter beside her, and Isabella couldn’t help but follow suit. The children were too adorable for words. Her heart squeezed at their antics.

“Will you play sword fighting with me, my lady?” Charles asked.

It wasn’t exactly a fit game for a young lady, but Carenza was only four.

And despite their frequent fights, she idolized her older brother.

Everything he did, she wanted to do too.

There would be time enough to turn her into a young lady.

And after all, she too had enjoyed engaging in a good sword fight when she was younger.

“Can I, Mama?” Carenza asked, her face aglow.

“Go on and have fun, sweeting.”

The two of them ran off to find sticks, and soon they were recreating the Battle of Hastings beneath the budding trees.

Her gaze turned once again to her husband, who caught her eye.

He excused himself as the musicians started up the next tune.

He came and sat on her other side, taking Alais gently from her tired arms. The baby hardly noticed, nuzzling against Martin’s neck with a contented coo as she melted against him.

His way with the children was almost magical.

The man had infinite patience and a gentle hand in all things.

It made her heart ache with love to look at him holding their baby.

“What mischief are our children up to now?” he asked once the baby was settled.

“Oh, the usual,” she said, gesturing toward the pitched battle taking place under a nearby oak tree. Several other children had now joined the fight, and it was a regular melee.

“Have you danced yet, my dear? It is May Day after all.”

When she shook her head, he laughed. “Watch out, or Jack-in-the-Green may come over and make you dance.”

Isabella pursed her lips. “If Master Hammond attempts to accost me with my giant belly and force me to dance, I cannot be answerable for the consequences.”

Martin pressed his hand on her lower back and dug in his fingers just where her muscles ached the most. “Have no fear, my dear. I don’t think even Master Hammond would dare try his luck when faced with such a scowl.”

She couldn’t help but let out a soft moan as his fingers found a particularly tender spot.

“Should I leave you two alone?” Crispin asked, smirking. “I think I might try my luck at winning a dance with the Queen of the May. Something about her smile reminds me of Eilidh.”

“Go on then.” She waved her hand in dismissal. “Abandon me. Never mind the fact that this is the first time I’ve seen you in seven years.”

Crispin rolled his eyes. “I’ve been here for a week already. I think you can spare me for a dance or two.”

“Of course she can,” said Martin. “Can’t you, love?”

Her husband’s fingers continued their delicious work, making her breath catch. “Very well then. Off with you.”

She shooed her brother away and watched him dive into the revelry with an abandon that belied his melancholy mood. Perhaps there was hope for him after all.

Martin placed Alais gently into the wicker bassinet, lined with lambswool, beside him. Fortunately, she was deeply asleep and oblivious to the raucous noise around her.

“Turn.” Her husband guided her with his hand to turn her back. Now both hands were at work turning her into a puddle.

“ Nph ,” she muttered, leaning back into him. “Your hands truly are magical.”

“ Mm. That’s what I like to hear.” His lips brushed her ear, then he nipped at her earlobe. “What about my tongue?” He traced the edge of her ear with it, sending warmth rushing to unmentionable places. It was astonishing what he could still make her feel even when she was round as a gourd.

“Wicked as always.” She reached behind her to smack his knee playfully. “I married a very naughty man.”

His laugh was full of sinful promise. “Do you remember our first May Day here?”

How could she forget? They’d snuck away from the festivities to a private grotto amongst the trees where he’d knelt before her and proceeded to drive her out of her mind with that wicked tongue of his. The mere thought made her cheeks heat.

“I’m glad to see you remember it as fondly as I do.” He shifted to sit astride the bench so that she was embraced by his thighs on either side of hers, practically in his lap.

“I hardly recall it at all,” she fibbed, smiling at the memory.

“Liar, you stopped breathing, and your pulse jumped in your neck.” He kissed the spot in question, making her heart beat all the faster.

“Too bad I’m too large and ungainly for such things at the moment.” It was hard to be passionate when everything was swollen and aching all the time. Although at that moment, his fingers were almost making her forget.

“You are more beautiful than ever, round with the child I planted in your belly, your marvelous breasts heavy with milk. You are a miracle, my love. My adoration for you grows every day. And as for my desire… Lean back, and you’ll see for yourself.”

Against her better judgment, she did. “Mercy! Perhaps we should retire to the castle early.”

“As my lady wishes.” He nipped at her earlobe again. “Let’s go celebrate May Day properly.”

With a word to the nursemaid and her brother, they made their excuses and headed back to the castle, leaving Charles and Carenza behind with their Uncle Crispin to enjoy the festival.

As they rode in a carriage the short distance back to the castle in the waning afternoon sun, she couldn’t help thinking that life was full of promise, and she could hardly wait to see what the years ahead with Martin would bring.