by Kris Tualla
“And I could not be happier for you.”
Percival turned to Avery. “And thank you, dear lady, for spurning my advances so incontestably.”
Avery laughed. “That is quite an odd thing to thank someone for—but you are very welcome, Sir.”
Percival wagged a finger at her. “Think about it. If you had succumbed to my substantial wit and charm, you would not have this hulking Nordic beast as your husband now.”
Avery smiled up at Jakob. “You do speak the truth, Percy.”
Anne approached the trio and Percival pulled his new wife close to his side, looping his muscled arm around her narrow shoulders. “And I would never have been caught by this conniving witch of a girl.”
Bethington’s delirious grin belied his teasing words. “And my impending fatherhood would not be such a joyous end.”
“We are truly happy for both of you,” Avery cooed.
Bethington startled, a sudden thought claiming his attention. “Anne, would you be averse to having Jakob and Avery as little Percival’s godparents?”
Anne blinked as the sudden shift caught her off guard, then she smiled at her husband. “I could not imagine anyone better.”
§ § §
Avery suggested to Jakob that they use his mother as an excuse to leave the ball earlier than they normally would, and was glad when he agreed.
“God parents,” Jakob said as they walked across the Tower grounds. “That was an unexpected subject for the occasion.”
“I never imagined that Percival Bethington would be a father, much less that I would be someone’s god father,” Jakob continued.
Avery smiled in the dim light. “I agree with the first half of your statement, Jakob, but I believe that the second half was inevitable once the deed was done.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Think about it for a minute.” Avery stopped walking and faced her husband. “Anne Woodcote planned to marry Percy years ago. Not one occurrence since then has been accidental.”
Jakob translated the story to his mother and asked, “What has that to do with god parents?”
“I am Queen Catherine’s chief lady-in-waiting and her dearest friend. You are a knight in the Queen’s service who has connections to King Henry. If anything happens to Anne or Percy, their child will remain in the protection of the royal court.”
Jakob chuckled as he explained this to his mother.
“Your wife has very good…” Bergdis tapped the side of her head. “Tenker.”
Thinking. Avery squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Bergdis.”
Avery resumed their walk across the grounds of the Tower. “If Anne was not such a delight, I might fault her for conniving. As it is, I look forward to her companionship for years to come.”
Jakob opened their front door and they stepped inside the cozy warmth of the house. When neither Askel nor Emily appeared to assist them, Jakob called out Askel’s name.
“Coming, Sir.”
The valet crossed from the kitchen through the dining room and into the drawing room. He was sporting a massive bruise on his cheek and that eye was swollen nearly shut. Emily scurried behind him, a wet cloth in her hand.
“What happened to you?” Avery blurted.
“It is nothing, my lady.” Askel held out hand with bloodied knuckles. “Let me help you.”
“Not with those hands!” Avery shrugged her cloak off and helped Bergdis out of hers. She draped the discarded outerwear over the nearest chair.
Jakob did the same, demanding that Askel explain his injuries. “Now.”
“It is my fault, Sir.” Emily had clearly been crying. “He got in a fight because of me.”
“Not you,” Askel snapped. “Denys.”
“Bethington’s valet?” Jakob shot a confused glance toward Avery. “I believed you two were friends.”
“We were—we are.” Askel shrugged. “I hope.”
Emily stepped forward. “Denys asked me to marry him.”
“When?” Jakob asked.
“This evening.” Emily looked sideways at Askel. “He came here during the ball.”
“He tried to snatch her out from under me,” Askel growled. Avery noticed how much improved his English was of a sudden and she bit back a smile.
The result of true love with an English maid?
Emily spun to face him. “He could not have if you had ever, even just once, spoken your mind.”
“I planned to.”
Emily stomped a foot. “Well, planning is not doing, is it then?”
Askel looked sufficiently cowed. “No.”
Jakob stepped bravely into the breach. “If I understand, Askel, you had a romantic interest in Emily but neglected to tell her.”
He nodded.
“And Emily, had he expressed his interest, you would have been amenable?”
She scowled at the valet. “Yes. Of course.”
“Then this evening, Denys came calling and made a proposal of his own…” Jakob continued.
“Not one I had ever encouraged, Sir,” Emily stated. “Not enthusiastically, anyway.”
Avery smothered another smile. “But when he did so, then Askel objected. Enthusiastically.”
Jakob rested his hands on his hips and addressed Askel. “How bad does Denys look?”
He shrugged. “About the same as me, I guess.”
Emily folded her arms. “I stepped between them before they killed each other.”
“That was good thinking.” Jakob considered the maid. “How does the situation stand now?”
Her expression softened and she glanced at Askel. “I would like to be a married woman.”
Askel straightened and pinned her with his good eye. “Would you consent to marry me, then?”
“Are you asking me?”
The valet wisely dropped to one knee. “With all my heart.”
Emily smiled for the first time that night, a bright happy smile that stretched her cheeks farther than Avery had ever seen them.
“Yes, Askel. I will marry you.”
Chapter Fourteen
July 29, 1520
Jakob and Avery stood alongside Percival and Anne in King Henry’s newly rebuilt Chapel Royal of Saint Peter ad Vincula. The resident priest was preparing to perform the first infant baptism held in the Tower’s little refurbished church.
Anne cradled her daughter in her arms while Percy looked ready to burst with pride.
“He’s a girl,” he told Jakob as they celebrated at one of Bethington’s favorite pubs. “And he’s the prettiest thing I have ever seen.”
Jakob laughed at Percy’s choice of words. “The next one will be a boy, certainly.”
“I cannot care.” Percy lifted his filled stein. “She has claimed my heart.”
The priest stopped his fussing preparations and faced the two couples. “Are we ready?”
Percival grinned. “Yes, Father.”
The middle-aged man began with reading a scripture in Latin, and then bowed his head in prayer.
When he finished, Anne handed the blanketed bundle to the priest. He spoke words of blessing over the babe and anointed her head with oil.
Then he handed the child to Jakob while he addressed both couples. “Do you each promise to raise this child in the one and only Catholic Church, and to bring her up in the knowledge of the one true God?”
“We do,” they said in unison.
He nodded. “How shall she be called?”
Percy answered, “Priscilla Anne Bethington.”
The priest wet his fingers and sprinkled holy water on the girls’ forehead. “I baptize thee Priscilla Anne Bethington in the Name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
Another anointing with oil, another Latin prayer, and a few final words of blessing concluded the private ceremony.
As the couples emerged on this humid summer day the stench of the Tower moat assaulted them.
“Somebody needs to drain that thing,” Jakob gru
mbled.
Avery laughed and looped her arm through her husband’s as they followed Percy and Anne toward the couple’s new home inside the Tower walls.
“Never mind that. I am famished.”
Jakob smiled and contently kissed the top of her head.
THE HANSEN FAMILY TREE
Sveyn Hansen* (b. 1035 ~ Arendal, Norway)
***
Rydar Hansen (b. 1324 ~ Arendal, Norway)
Grier MacInnes (b. 1328 ~ Durness, Scotland)
Eryndal Bell Hansen (b. 1327 ~ Bedford, England)
Andrew Drummond (b. 1325 ~ Falkirk, Scotland)
***
Jakob Petter Hansen (b. 1485 ~ Arendal, Norway)
Avery Galaviz de Mendoza (b. 1483 ~ Madrid, Spain)
***
Brander Hansen (b. 1689 ~ Arendal, Norway)
Regin Kildahl (b. 1693 ~ Hamar, Norway)
***
Martin Hansen (b. 1721 ~ Arendal, Norway)
Dagne Sivertsen (b. 1725 ~ Ljan, Norway)
Reidar Hansen (b. 1750 ~ Boston, Massachusetts)
Kristen Sven (b. 1754 ~ Philadelphia, Pennsylvania)
Nicolas Hansen (b. 1787 ~ Cheltenham, Missouri Territory)
Siobhan Sydney Bell (b. 1789 ~ Shelbyville, Kentucky)
Stefan Hansen (b. 1813 ~ Cheltenham, Missouri)
Kirsten Hansen (b. 1820 ~ Cheltenham, Missouri)
Leif Fredericksen Hansen (b. 1809 ~ Christiania, Norway)
***
Tor Hansen (b. 1913 ~ Arendal, Norway)
Kyle Solberg (b. 1919 ~ Viking, Minnesota)
Teigen Hansen (b. 1915 ~ Arendal, Norway)
Selby Hovland (b. 1914 ~ Trondheim, Norway)
***
*Hollis McKenna Hansen (b. 1985 Sparta, Wisconsin)
Kris Tualla is a dynamic, award-winning, and internationally published author of historical romance and suspense. She started in 2006 with nothing but a nugget of a character in mind, and has created a dynasty with The Hansen Series, and its spin-off, The Discreet Gentleman Series. Find out more at: www.KrisTualla.com
Kris is an active PAN member of Romance Writers of America, the Historical Novel Society, and Sisters in Crime, and was invited to be a guest instructor at the Piper Writing Center at Arizona State University.
“In the Historical Romance genre, there have been countless kilted warrior stories told. I say it's time for a new breed of heroes. Come along with me and find out why: Norway IS the new Scotland!”
