by Alexa Aston
“You haven’t spoken of this affection with your mother?”
“Nay. Once I found that Mother was to wed Sir Charles, I wanted her to enjoy the time leading up to her wedding.”
“She adores the headdress you made for the occasion,” revealed Orella. “She’s boasted how talented you are with a needle and thread.”
“Thank you, though apparently not talented enough to convince Kenric of my feelings for him.” She related the situation over the next few minutes, ending with, “And so he still believes I am to return to London, where I’ll magically find a worthy man who’ll lavish upon me gifts beyond compare.”
She stood and began pacing. “But the most worthy man I know is right before me,” Avelyn insisted. “I’ve never been one to care for material goods.” She threw her hands in the air. “Why can’t Kenric see that we are meant to be together?”
“I understand your frustration,” Orella said, “but no man reacts well to it, especially coming from a woman.” She paused, a faraway look in her eyes. “I found myself in an impossible marriage to a man I could never respect or like—much less try to love. He was filled with anger and built a wall around himself composed of it. If I lost my temper and reacted to him in such a manner?” She shuddered. “It was a most unpleasant experience.”
Avelyn went and knelt by her side. She took the older woman’s hands in hers and said, “I know you suffered greatly during your marriage and were banished to a convent.”
Orella squeezed her hands with affection. “Going to the Convent of the Blessed Sisters was the best thing that ever happened to me. Except for giving birth to Michael,” she amended. “The sisters taught me how to quell my rage over the injustice I had suffered. They led me to a path of peace and acceptance.”
“You’re so wise, my lady. Do you have any advice for me in this matter of the heart?”
Orella cupped Avelyn’s face tenderly. “Your sweet temperament and angelic face will be more than enough.” She kissed Avelyn’s cheek. “I’d advise you to be kind to Sir Kenric. As if nothing upsetting had occurred between you.”
Avelyn frowned. “Truly?”
“Some would tell you to play games with him. Ignore him and then seek him out. That is the common practice of those at court. Aye, I did spend some time in London and know of what I speak. But you are not a court person, my dear.”
“Nay,” she said softly. “Growing up, I thought I would enjoy the excitement and change from the drudgery of living in the country. Having lived in London only a short while, I now realize how much I believe in a life spent helping others, not one of empty gossip and political intrigue and only caring about my appearance and befriending those who can benefit me in some manner.”
“Like your friend, Lady Sela?”
She cast her eyes downward. “I’m not sure if Sela was ever my friend. It’s been awkward having her at Sandbourne since we fell out. We’ve avoided one another.” Avelyn looked up and laughed. “And what did we argue over that caused our rift?”
“Sir Kenric Fairfax?” Orella asked and chuckled.
“Exactly,” she confirmed. “But our estrangement helped me to put our friendship into perspective. Even if I was returning to the royal court at the end of summer, I don’t think we would remain close.”
The noblewoman said, “You asked for my advice with Sir Kenric. I would tell you to be yourself. That’s what attracted him to you in the first place. Mark my words. He’ll regret his actions and come around. I have faith that this will occur. I will pray for the outcome you seek with this knight.”
“Coming from you, it means a great deal,” Avelyn told her.
“I spent many years where all I did was pray,” Orella said. “And I’m very good at it.”
A knock sounded at the door. Avelyn rose to answer it.
Her mother stood waiting when she opened the door. “I was looking for you, Avelyn. When I couldn’t find you, I thought I’d stop and visit with Orella.”
“We have been talking of your wedding, Mary, and the lovely headdress your daughter created for you,” Orella called out as she motioned Lady Mary in.
Avelyn loved the radiant smile that graced her mother’s face, glad her mother had found happiness with a man she obviously loved. The fact that her mother would also be able to remain at Sandbourne to be near her first grandchild only added to the joy.
“I’m most eager to become Sir Charles’ wife,” her mother admitted. “Being with him makes me feel like I was a young girl again.”
The three women laughed.
Elysande poked her head inside the open doorway. “I heard all the laughter and wondered what I was missing out on.”
“Come in,” Orella said. “We are talking of Lady Mary’s wedding.”
Her sister took a few steps in and stopped abruptly. A hand went to her stomach as a frown crossed her face.
Avelyn rushed over. “Are you all right?”
Elysande shrugged. “The midwife tells me it’s nothing. I’m used to faint flutters and kicks from the babe but, in the last week, several times I have felt these aches. The midwife says it’s only false labor pains that some women have.”
Avelyn led Elysande to a chair and eased her into it.
“I had those pains with Michael a good two weeks before the real ones began,” Orella said. “Believe me, when the time comes, you will know the difference.”
“I didn’t experience any false pains with you, Elysande,” Lady Mary said, “but I did just days before Avelyn’s birth. They surprised me since I’d never felt them before.”
“Each babe is different,” Lady Orella proclaimed. “You must put your trust in God—and your midwife,” she added wisely.
Avelyn knew that Michael’s mother gave good advice to Elysande. She only hoped that Orella’s suggestion to her would prove fruitful. She feared Kenric would do something foolish before the stubborn man realized they belonged together.
Chapter 20
After mass the next morning, Elysande linked her arm through Avelyn’s as they left the chapel. She slowed her gait to match that of her sister, whose belly seemed to have grown even more enormous overnight.
“I’d like to see the progress you’ve made at riding. Could I come watch today’s lesson?”
Avelyn evenly said, “I don’t have a lesson today.”
Elysande stopped. “What’s wrong?”
Her sister had always been in tune to Avelyn’s moods.
“Nothing.” She didn’t want to worry Elysande so near the birth of her child with petty problems.
They started walking slowly again toward the keep.
“I suppose the meadow would be too far for me to go,” her sister mused. “Still, it’s been more than a week since I went to the stables. I would love to see my sweet Morningstar one more time before the babe comes.”
They reached the steep stairs leading up to the keep and began their ascent.
Avelyn asked, “Could you make it down all these stairs and back up again today? I know you do it each morning for mass, but you sound out of breath to me even now. You shouldn’t overtire yourself.”
Elysande sniffed. “I am with child. Not infirmed.” Her mouth set in stubborn determination.
Recognizing her sister’s mood and knowing that seeing her horses would improve upon it, she said, “Then let’s go after the noon meal to visit the stables. Cook can provide plenty of apples for us.”
They reached the top. Elysande paused and took a deep breath before she hugged her sister. “Thank you. I fear it will be the last time. And I know my spirits will be raised.”
Avelyn made sure that Elysande ate her fair share and then took her to her chamber to rest. They arranged to have a quiet meal at noon in the solar together before heading out to the stables.
She went to the kitchens and told Cook what she needed. The stout woman handed her a basket and Avelyn held it as Cook filled it with apples.
“The countess always takes plenty with her. She d
oes love spoiling all those horses.”
Avelyn thanked her and took the basket to her bedchamber, passing Sela in the hall. Her friend gave her a cool smile but didn’t linger.
She and Elysande ate roasted pheasant in the solar, enjoying the time alone as they talked about horses. Avelyn knew that Elysande’s life was on the brink of change. Once the child came, everything would be different.
After they finished their meal, Avelyn placed the basket over her arm and led her sister downstairs. People streamed from the great hall, having finished their own noon meal. They stepped aside to let most of the people pass before they ventured outside to tackle the staircase. Elysande held on to her tightly as they gingerly made their way down. Avelyn hoped the apples wouldn’t spill out and roll down the stairs.
“May we help you, my lady?” A familiar voice brought her to a halt.
Avelyn looked over her shoulder and found Kenric standing with Sir Ralf. Both men looked concerned.
“Please, my lady, let us assist you,” Sir Ralf said.
“I wouldn’t want to keep you from the training yard,” Elysande told them.
Ralf laughed. “I’m scheduled to fight Martin next. I don’t mind keeping him waiting. If I’m a little late, his temper will be riled—and he doesn’t concentrate as well when he’s angry.” He grinned. “I admit that I need any advantage I can get when dueling with Martin.”
“And I have a riding lesson with Lady Avelyn now, so I’m not expected in the training yard,” Kenric said.
Elysande shot her a look, which Avelyn chose to ignore. She wanted to fire off a retort and contradict Kenric’s words. Instead, she smiled sweetly at him, Lady Orella’s advice in mind.
“Get on each side of the countess,” she told the two men. “She can lean on you better that way.”
The men did as instructed, with Avelyn falling in behind them, the basket of treats intact.
When they reached the stables, Sir Ralf excused himself. They wished him luck in his bout with his opponent.
Then Kenric said, “I must compliment your sister, Lady Elysande. In a short time, she’s mastered Starlight. She sits well and has a gentle touch with the reins.”
Elysande considered his words. “What about when she rides at a faster gait?” she asked. “How does she fare then?”
Avelyn felt Kenric’s gaze upon her as she looked across the bailey. She grew warm as he said, “Lady Avelyn has proven herself most adept, my lady. In every circumstance.”
“I’m pleased that Avelyn’s learned so much from you, Sir Kenric. As you know, riding is one of my greatest pleasures in life,” Elysande said. Then a smile crossed her face. “Next to time spent with my husband, of course.”
They entered the stables and Elysande stopped at each stall. She spoke to every horse, rewarding them with an apple, asking various stable hands about the horses’ health and well-being.
Then they reached Morningstar’s stall. The mare poked her head over the stall door, excited to see her mistress. She whinnied and bumped against the door, stretching her neck so that she could nuzzle Elysande’s ear. Her sister giggled as she stroked her favorite horse, murmuring endearments to the mare as she fed the horse one apple and then a second.
“Michael has someone ride her daily,” Elysande said as she stroked the horse’s neck, “but I can’t wait till I’m the one on her again.” She bid the horse farewell, promising to bring her babe on her next visit so that Morningstar could approve the newest member of the Devereux family.
As Elysande stepped away, she stumbled. Kenric caught her arm and elbow, steadying her.
“I’m sorry. It’s one of those silly pains again. They’ve been coming on and off all morning. I—”
Elysande gasped and hunched over with a low moan. Then a swish sounded. A perplexed look crossed Kenric’s face, but Avelyn knew what had occurred.
“My water’s broken,” her sister announced. Elysande looked around and sighed. “I don’t know if I can make it back to the keep.”
Avelyn heard the uncertainty in Elysande’s voice. “You can’t find an empty stall and give birth here,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood.
“It was good enough for our Lord Jesus Christ to be born in a stable,” Elysande retorted, but Avelyn heard the humor behind her words.
“True enough, but it would not be good enough for Lord Michael’s first child,” Kenric declared. With that, he swept Elysande up into his arms.
“Oh!” Her sister’s eyes grew wide. She looked at Avelyn and said, “Find Mother and Lady Orella and tell them it’s time to find the midwife. Michael brought her to the keep a week ago so she would be nearby.”
Kenric started off. Elysande called over her shoulder, “And find Michael after that. He would be most upset not to be informed that his child has decided to be born today.”
Avelyn lifted her skirts and raced ahead of them. She reached the keep and was happy that the first person she saw was her mother.
Panting heavily, she got out, “The babe comes!”
Lady Mary broke out into a smile. “I’ll bring the midwife and find Orella. Go find Michael,” she instructed.
Avelyn nodded. As she turned to leave, Kenric entered with Elysande in his arms and quickly strode up the stairs.
Elysande called out cheerily, “Michael should be in the training yard.”
Avelyn rushed back outside and to the area where the soldiers spent the majority of their day. She found Michael with a sword in hand, demonstrating moves to a gathered group. Avelyn motioned him over.
He stopped and hurried over, an irritated look upon his face. “I don’t wish to be interrupted—”
“It’s time!” she cried.
Michael froze. “The babe?”
Avelyn nodded. Then she began to laugh as the Earl of Sandbourne dropped his sword and took off like a comet. She ran behind him, following him all the way up to the solar.
Elysande sat on the bed, her mother and mother-in-law hovering over her as they slipped off her shoes and stockings. Kenric stood awkwardly in the corner.
The midwife shook a finger at Michael as he hurried across the room to his wife. “This is no place for you, my lord.” She snapped her fingers at Kenric. “You. Take the earl and be gone. There’s women’s work to be done here.”
Michael glared at the tiny midwife who ordered him about. “I will speak to my wife first.”
The two mothers stepped aside. Michael knelt by the bed and took Elysande’s hand in his, lowering his lips and pressing a tender kiss to her fingers.
“How are you, my love?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.
Elysande gave him a beautiful smile. “I’m ready, Husband.”
“I know,” he said softly.
She grimaced as a birthing pain struck and then asked, “What if the babe is a girl?”
Michael brushed a stray curl from his wife’s cheek. “If it’s a girl, my fondest wish will come true—to have two beautiful Devereux women in my life.” He smiled. “And if you produce a boy, I will love him all the same.”
He kissed her fingers again. “Take care, Wife. The next time I see you, you will be a mother. The mother of our child.”
Michael rose and looked over at the only other male present. “Sir Kenric, come sit with me in the solar. I could use your company.” He glanced over to Avelyn. “Bring me regular reports of what goes on here.”
“I will,” she promised.
“Enough!” cried the midwife, waving her hands about. “Out, my lords.”
*
Kenric followed Lord Michael from the bedchamber. He didn’t want to stay with the nobleman in the man’s solar. He had no right. He wasn’t a relative or a trusted friend. He merely served the Devereux family.
“Have a seat. I don’t know about you, but I’m eager for a glass of wine.” Lord Michael poured a healthy amount into silver goblets for each of them and handed him one.
He gripped it and downed a mouthful before taking a seat
in a chair next to the fire.
His liege lord sat in one opposite him and sighed. “I don’t know how women do it.”
“My lord?”
“Have babes. I’m already sick to my stomach and worried out of my mind, yet Elysande has only begun the lengthy, painful process of giving birth to my child.” He brought the goblet to his lips and sipped. “Men may flash their swords about and charge into battle without a thought for their safety, but women? They are the ones with a core of steel and full of unimaginable bravery. If we men had to bear children, the population might dry up in a score. Or less.”
Kenric didn’t know what to say to such bold, unorthodox remarks, so he took another drink of the most excellent wine. He stared into the goblet at the rich color, wishing he could offer comfort to Lord Michael.
“So, you’ve expressed an interest in Avelyn.”
The earl’s words came from nowhere and nearly knocked him from his chair.
“Don’t look so stunned, Sir Kenric. Avelyn and Elysande are quite close. They would naturally speak of such matters together. I happened to be on hand when they did.”
Kenric chose his words carefully. “Lady Avelyn is an intriguing woman, my lord. If I was of a mind to pursue a woman and marry, I’d hope to be lucky enough to wed someone as beautiful and intelligent as she is.”
Lord Michael looked at him thoughtfully. “But you aren’t interested in marriage or settling down. With Avelyn. Or any other woman.”
He took another drink. “Nay, my lord. I decided when I took my knight’s vows that I would live a life of service.” He leaned forward. “I traveled far and wide and listened carefully when men spoke. When I learned of your reputation, I knew you were the lord I wished to serve. You and your family,” he added. “And that includes Lady Avelyn.”
“So you believe you can live without her kisses? Continue on without her touch?”
Kenric shot to his feet. “My lord,” he sputtered, wine spilling onto the floor.
“Sit back down,” the earl instructed. “Mayhap, I spoke out of turn.” Michael Devereux rested his cup on a nearby table, his eyes carefully studying Kenric.
