by Alexa Aston
She linked her arm through his. They traveled across the hall and paused in front of his mother’s door. Merryn wound her arms about his waist, reluctant for them to part.
“Plan on getting plenty of rest tonight,” Geoffrey advised her. “And do not overtax yourself tomorrow. Come evening, I plan to love you all night long and show you how much you mean to me.”
Merryn smiled at him. “You are the love of my life, Geoffrey de Montfort.”
She gave him a sweet, lingering kiss which he wished could go on forever. Instead, he opened the chamber door and escorted her inside. His mother lay asleep on the bed. Geoffrey kissed his wife once more and retreated to the door.
Merryn blew him a kiss as he stepped into the corridor. He eased the door shut and turned.
A huge fist came from nowhere and smashed into his face.
Chapter 32
Geoffrey fought to open his eyes as pain exploded along his temple and nose. He touched his face gingerly. Sticky blood met his fingers. Knowing what had to be done, he viciously wrenched his nose back into place before he could change his mind. A loud crunch sounded with the twist, but immediate relief came. He moved his hand to his temple and located the goose egg that caused the pounding there.
Searching his memory, he tried to recall the last thing that occurred. He had spoken with Merryn about Berold’s treachery. Left her. Then someone had attacked him. The first blow had landed square in the nose, causing him to stagger off-balance. Another few rained down upon him.
Then a blank.
He concentrated and forced his eyelids open. The ache in his head gnawed hungrily at him, but he needed to see where he was and who had assaulted him. A flickering torchlight caught his eye, but something obstructed his view.
“No!”
A wall of iron bars stood before him. He was in a dungeon.
Again.
Geoffrey fought the rising hysteria to scream. He pushed against the dirt he lay upon and rose unsteadily to his feet, using those very bars to support himself.
“So, you finally awaken. I did not hit you that hard, de Montfort. You have become a weakling. Worse than an old man. But then again, being locked away for as long as you were might have broken lesser men.”
Squinting, he saw the outline of a man leaning against the opposite wall, standing just below the torch. His face lay in the shadows, but Geoffrey recognized the voice.
Symond Benedict.
The royal guardsman strolled forward, remaining just beyond his reach. The knight studied his prisoner, his lips pursed in thought.
Geoffrey remained silent. He would not beg this man for his freedom.
Symond crossed burly arms over his chest. “I heard everything, you know. Winterbourne unburdened himself to Lady Merryn. Blubbered like a babe, he did. I stood guard in the shadows as the king charged me to do. And I heard of the wicked earl and the punishment he meted out to the man who destroyed his son.”
The knight smirked. “’Twas quite an entertaining tale. The young earl promised he would right things, but you and I know that that could never occur. A man doesn’t experience what you did and come out the same man. You’ll never again be the man Merryn Mantel fell in love with.”
Hearing his wife’s name uttered by this bastard caused Geoffrey grip to tighten on the bars. He spit on the soldier, not caring if this action antagonized his captor.
Benedict laughed and wiped away the spittle. “And then I was treated to the touching conversation you held with your wife in the solar. My, how you do love the lady—but you do not deserve her.”
Benedict’s lips curled into a snarl. “The likes of you had everything handed to him. Your father was a titled nobleman and you gained the title simply by being his first-born male. Me? I’ve had to work for everything. I rose through the ranks. The king recognized my skills in warfare. He knighted me on the battlefield. I have served him loyally for many years.”
He leaned closer. “Now I want everything he promised me. It’s time I claim my reward.”
Geoffrey finally spoke. “So you will leave me here to rot and claim the bounty you think you deserve.”
A harsh laugh burst from the knight. “You understand your predicament, de Montfort. Desperate men will do just about anything to gain what they want.”
Without warning, Benedict slammed a fist against the bars. “The Lady Merryn was mine. Mine! The king vowed she would belong to no other. The most beautiful, seductive lady in the land. He promised me her hand in marriage—and the castle and land at Kinwick. Not the title of earl, mind you. Your little brat was to retain that. But I will ship off those damned twins to foster as far away as possible. I will couple with my new wife a thousand times till she births many children that carry my Benedict blood.”
Benedict continued to antagonize. “And when an accident happens to wee little Ancel?” He shrugged. “Then the king will have no choice but to give me the title and my sons will reign supreme once I am gone.”
Fear for Ancel’s well-being coursed through Geoffrey. He struck without warning, landing a hard punch. Benedict jumped back, cradling his jaw in his hand.
“Merryn—and Kinwick—will be mine now,” Benedict gloated. “Just as it was supposed to be before you showed your ugly face again. You appeared as a ghost from the past, barely flesh and blood, and ruined all my plans.”
The knight gave him an eerie smile. “This time there will be no feeding you. You will die on your own estate. Lady Merryn will believe you’ve run away, your shame so great at her having learned the truth of those missing years. Her cowardly husband—the man too weak to fight Lord Berold. The timid man who could not convince a young, impressionable boy to release him from his prison so he could return to his lovely wife of a single day and night. This time you will die, de Montfort, as you should have all those years ago. And I will be the one to comfort Lady Merryn in her time of sorrow.”
Benedict chuckled and began to retreat. He called over his shoulder, “I can’t say which will last longer. The torch burning yonder—or you.” He bowed. “A good eve to you, my lord. I look forward to returning and taking command over all of Kinwick. Especially the prize of my wife.”
Geoffrey roared in despair, but Edward’s wicked knight kept walking.
*
Merryn rose, careful not to disturb Elia’s sleep. Her mother-in-law had been restless throughout the night. Merryn dressed and went to check on Hardie. She still had mixed feelings about their neighbor after his ghastly admission yesterday, but she understood why Geoffrey thought Hardie should be forgiven.
As she entered the room, her skirts brushed against Sir Alard, standing duty near the door. He greeted her with a nod and brought a finger to his lips. Merryn looked over at the bed. Johamma lay curled next to her husband, both sound asleep.
It hit her as a bolt of lightning, come from nowhere. Geoffrey was right. She had been wrong to blame a boy, one raised and, most likely, terrorized by a brutal father. Hardie had dared to go against Lord Berold’s command to visit Geoffrey throughout his long imprisonment. The boy offered physical comforts and his own company, never knowing if he might be found out and severely punished.
More importantly, Hardie released Geoffrey once Berold was in the ground. The nobleman was trying his best to correct the mistakes of the past. Not ones of his making, but those which had nearly ruined Geoffrey’s life. Hardie had married a sweet girl. He’d offered to train the twins so they would be in close proximity to Kinwick. Hardie aimed to make up for the time Geoffrey had been separated from them. Many children fostered hundreds of miles from their homes. Some never returned once they left, going into service as knights or marrying far from their loved ones.
Merryn dug deeply into her heart and found she could forgive Hardie, though in truth, she had nothing to forgive. Berold had been the sinner and abuser, and he had answered for his actions when he met his Maker. She only hoped Berold burned in agony in the eternal fires of damnation after what he had done to Geoffre
y.
Her next mission would be to convince the king that the twins should foster closer to home. Merryn knew Edward had a soft spot for her. She wasn’t above playing upon his sympathies where her family was concerned.
She nodded at Sir Alard as she left the bedchamber and met Hobard entering the solar.
“I wanted to check on the earl once more before we depart, but I feel my job is done.”
“He and Lady Johamma are sleeping. Mayhap you can look in on him after breaking your fast?”
Hobard agreed and accompanied her to mass and then into the great hall to dine. Merryn excused herself in order to take Lady Elia something to eat in her chamber. The royal visit had taxed everyone’s nerves and the noblewoman seemed to find it more stressful than most.
She arrived to find her mother-in-law sitting up in bed but looking flushed. Merryn felt her brow and thought she might have a slight fever.
“I think not,” Elia said. “I am simply tired and hot. You know I am older than the king and queen. Not by much, but all the same, their time at Kinwick wore upon me.”
“Then let me sit with you a few minutes,” Merryn said. “I’ve brought some ale and bread and a small wedge of cheese.”
Elia nibbled at the food and allowed Merryn to bathe her face in cool water as a precaution. As they talked, Merryn thought how no one—not even Geoffrey’s mother—could ever learn the truth behind the years of his disappearance. She did not know how her husband had withstood such an ordeal, much less how he had kept the secret to himself upon his return home. She’d always admired his physical strength and good character, but to realize what her husband had survived and the desperate loneliness he endured during his time locked away from the world was almost more than she could bear.
Merryn still believed that the king should be told of such treachery. She might have to fight Geoffrey on this issue, though it occurred to her that with Berold dead, sharing that kind of news with Edward would serve no purpose. ’Twould be better to let the matter die. She had her husband back and would hold fast to him till eternity and beyond.
“I feel a little better, child,” Elia said. “I wish to close my eyes and rest now. Will you see our company off?”
“Of course.”
Merryn waited till Elia’s breathing slowed and soft snores began. She slipped from the room and hurried downstairs, hoping to catch their guests before they departed.
A wagon sat in the inner bailey and Hardie was already stretched out in it.
The earl’s eyes met hers. He’d begged her to keep the secret, much as he had Geoffrey, though Merryn had no knight’s oath to swear. She stepped closer and glanced around.
Lowering her voice, she said, “I know you do not want Johamma judging you for your father’s actions, but you must tell her one day. And soon.” She paused. “Some secrets can eat you alive. You do not want anything to come between the two of you in your marriage. Geoffrey’s oath to you caused a rift in ours. That is no way for you to start your union. I beg you, my lord. Tell her.”
Hardie clasped her hand. “I’ll find the strength of heart to do so. Thank you for everything, my lady.” He looked over her shoulder and smiled.
Merryn turned and saw Johamma making her way toward them, accompanied by Symond Benedict.
“Please, Lady Merryn. Come visit us soon. I have so many things to ask you about running a household.” The young bride blushed. “I do not know where to start.”
“I would be happy to assist you in any way, Johamma. I hope that we will become good friends as the years progress.”
Johamma smiled. “I would like that.”
Merryn turned to Hardie. “I wish you a speedy recovery, my lord. I look forward to seeing you soon.” She gave him a genuine smile from her heart.
Hardie received her message, a look of relief on his face.
Symond assisted Johamma into the wagon and she nestled against Hardie, pulling his hand into her lap and holding it tightly. The couple waved as the wagon moved off, a driver and guard of ten knights from Winterbourne escorting it from the yard.
Merryn looked at Symond, hoping to smooth over any awkwardness between them. She noticed a bruise along his jaw and wondered what might have happened to him. She wouldn’t ask him, though. She wanted nothing personal between them.
“’Tis the first opportunity I’ve had to speak with you,” she said. “I hope that your visit to Kinwick was a pleasant one.”
Symond gave her a shy smile. “It would have been nicer if I could have spent time with you, Merryn.”
She frowned at not only his words, but the soft, loving tone he used.
“That would not have been appropriate, Sir Symond.” She emphasized his title and the fact that she did not call him by his Christian name as he had her. “My husband has returned and taken his rightful place as Earl of Kinwick. You were here in service to the king, not as before when you were our special guest. While I know we share an acquaintance, I would not expect us to spend time alone together,” she admonished.
He gazed at her longingly. “Mayhap the time shall come when we will be able to be together, my lady. You never know what the future holds.” He bowed. “Until then, I bid you adieu.”
Merryn found the knight’s attitude odd and wanted matters clear between them before he departed. “I do know what my future holds, sir. A lifetime with Geoffrey. I hope my husband and I fill Kinwick with many children and that we live a long, happy life together.”
The royal guardsman nodded and retreated without further conversation. He mounted the horse that had been brought around. Merryn noticed that Hobard and Sir Alard were also ready to ride.
“Godspeed on your journey,” she told the physician and knight. “Please give my regards to the king and queen. I hope you enjoy the remainder of the court’s summer progress.”
Merryn waved as they galloped away. Someone came and stood next to her. Expecting it to be her husband come to bid their guests farewell, it surprised her to find Raynor at her elbow.
“Where’s Geoffrey?” he asked. “It’s strange that he would not come to see his visitors off.”
Chapter 33
“I also leave today,” Raynor continued. “I would like to give my cousin a hearty hug and a handshake before I get on the road.”
A moment of doubt filled Merryn. She had learned the worst last night. Between Hardie’s confession and Geoffrey’s confirmation, she knew all that her husband had suffered.
What if in retelling her of the horrific events, it had unhinged his mind?
No. She resolved not to think that. They loved one another. Sharing the truth, no matter how painful it was, should bring them even closer together. They were two made one, by their marriage vows and the passion they shared. Geoffrey would not leave again of his own accord.
Then it occurred to her that Sir Alard had been on duty this morning when she’d gone to check on Hardie.
That meant Symond Benedict had been standing watch last night.
Merryn did not remember the knight present while Hardie poured out his heart to her, but Symond had made a habit of lingering in the shadows of the room the last few days. She realized the knight had borne witness to everything Hardie revealed about Geoffrey’s hardship and might also have heard her conversation with Geoffrey afterward.
It infuriated her that the king’s man did not make his presence known. It also frightened her with how obsessed he seemed with her. What if Symond had confronted Geoffrey about what he overheard? Mocked him for being a helpless prisoner for all those years?
Would that have been enough to drive Geoffrey over the edge? Would Symond have tried to convince her husband that she was better off without him?
Again, Merryn rejected that. In truth, the man who returned to her after his long incarceration might have believed Symond. Geoffrey had come back far different from the husband that she’d married, insecure and unsure. But through her love and encouragement, Merryn had seen him grow in spirit and confidence.
She believed if Symond Benedict had confronted Geoffrey last night in such a manner, the knight would have sported a black eye and split lip today. Her husband would not have tolerated such taunts.
Wait. Could that be how Symond wound up with a bruised jaw? If so, where was Geoffrey?
Trying to contain her concern, she said to Raynor, “We need to find him. Ask a few of the servants if they have seen him. Meet me in the great hall in half an hour. You check the stables and both baileys. I will search inside the keep.”
They met at the specified time. Neither had found anyone who’d laid eyes upon Geoffrey since he left the great hall last night bearing a tray of food.
“We must search the entire grounds,” she proclaimed. “Something is very wrong, Raynor. I feel it in my bones. I cannot share the whole of it, but know that when Geoffrey left me last night, he had much on his mind.”
Alys tugged on her cotehardie. “Mother, where is Father? He promised to help me ride my pony and pick flowers for you.”
Merryn hugged her daughter. “Your father had some business to take care of, love. I’ll be sure and remind him of your plans when I see him. Now run along.”
If she did not think so before, Merryn knew with certainty that something had happened to Geoffrey. He would never promise to spend time with Alys and not show up.
Deciding to search room by room, she went to the second floor. The solar was empty except for Tilda and another servant cleaning it. Elia still napped in her room. Raynor’s chamber held his packed bag sitting atop the bed.
Then she reached the twins’ room. Ancel was stretched out on the floor, playing with the small, carved figures that Geoffrey had once enjoyed as a child. She had given them to her son in hopes he would feel close to the man he’d never known.
“Ancel, have you seen your father this morning? I have need of him.”
Her son gave her a sour look. “Not since he stumbled around last night.” His nose wrinkled in disgust. “He drank too much wine.”
