Bold in Honor

by Alexa Aston

  And when she and Ancel returned from Kinwick, it would become their bedchamber. The room where her new husband would teach her all about the mysteries of love. The place where they would make many babes and she would give birth to them. Margery hugged herself, joy bursting from her.

  She made her way outside and saw Ancel standing, tall and proud. Joining him, she slipped her hand through the crook of his arm.

  His hand covered hers, while his glance spoke of his love for her. A calm descended upon her. She felt confident to meet his parents now.

  Riders rounded the corner, the first bearing the de Montfort banner, followed by over a dozen horses. Immediately, Margery spied Ancel’s parents in the center of the escort party. Lady Merryn’s rich, chestnut hair shone like fire in the sunlight, while Lord Geoffrey looked like an older version of his son. Seeing him made it easy to know what her future husband would look like in the years to come. Both waved to her and Ancel with smiles on their faces.

  Ancel rushed to his mother and helped her from her horse. He kissed both her cheeks soundly and then embraced his father.

  “Come and meet Margery,” she heard him say as he brought them to where she stood.

  Lady Merryn broke away from her son and reached Margery first. She was struck by how beautiful Ancel’s mother was, though she knew the noblewoman to be over two score in age.

  “Lady Margery.” Merryn de Montfort held her hands out. Margery took them and they kissed one another’s cheeks. “I have looked forward to meeting you ever since we received Ancel’s missive. We are so very happy to be invited to see Highfield.”

  “I am delighted that you and Lord Geoffrey could come for a visit, my lady.”

  “Please, call us Merryn and Geoffrey.” Her eyes sparkled. “There is no need to stand on ceremony since you are to be our new daughter-in-law.”

  Margery beamed with pride. “Aye. Ancel and I will wed at Kinwick if you will give us permission to do so.”

  “Of course, you may marry at Kinwick,” Geoffrey said. “’Twill be yours one day.” He kissed Margery’s hand and then wrapped her in a tight hug. Releasing her, his warm smile seemed familiar.

  “You are very much like your son,” she told him. “Or rather, Ancel reminds me of you.”

  Ancel came and slipped his arm around her waist. “Mother said I came out of the womb looking like Father. And Alys resembles Mother quite a bit.”

  “I can’t wait to meet Alys and all of your other siblings,” Margery said. “And your cousins. I don’t think I can begin to remember all of their names.”

  “We can’t wait to tour Highfield,” Merryn said, “but I am eager to get you back to Kinwick so we can plan your wedding. You’ll be surprised how many relatives Ancel has. They’ll all want to be in attendance when you speak your vows.”

  “Please, come inside the keep,” Margery said. “I know you’ve had a long journey.”

  “Three days in the saddle isn’t so bad,” Geoffrey proclaimed. “I like getting out and about.”

  As they mounted the stairs, Ancel asked, “Did you ride through London?”

  “No, your mother doesn’t like it much. We went around the city and picked up the road east of there.”

  “You don’t enjoy London?” Margery asked. “I visited it for the first time last week and found it fascinating.”

  “She has nothing against the city itself,” Geoffrey confided. “Merryn is always afraid that if we go to London, I’ll be stuck at the royal palace.”

  Merryn slipped her arm through Margery’s. “The king—the old one—always wanted Geoffrey to reside in London and sit on his royal council. I preferred a quieter life at Kinwick.”

  “And that means I prefer a quieter life. If I know what’s good for me,” her husband teased as he winked at Margery.

  Merryn shot her husband a look. “Geoffrey, we should do our best to make a good impression upon Margery. That means behaving appropriately.”

  His eyes twinkled. “I will do my best, my love.” He brought his wife’s hand to his lips and gave it a kiss in apology.

  “Don’t worry, Lord Geoffrey,” Margery reassured him. “I’ve decided already that I like you both—mischief and all.”

  The nobleman laughed heartily. “Oh, I like your bride-to-be, Ancel. You have chosen well, my son.”

  “I have,” Ancel confirmed, the twinkle in his eyes matching that of his father’s.

  They entered the keep and took their guests to the great hall. Merryn also wanted to see the kitchen, so Margery showed it to her and introduced her to Maud. They returned to the men and adjourned upstairs to the solar.

  “This is cozy,” Merryn said. “And I could use some wine and cheese. I didn’t realize I was famished. Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Margery.”

  The two couples ate and talked for a few hours. Margery heard stories about Ancel and Alys while they were growing up and many of them had her in tears because she laughed so hard.

  “Alys has twins of her own now, as well as a younger boy,” Merryn said. “They get into as much mischief as she and her brother did.”

  “What of your other children?” Margery asked.

  “We have two more sons,” Geoffrey said. “Both foster with the Earl of Winterbourne, whose estate lies an hour north of Kinwick. Hal is ten and seven and Edward is ten and five. They both idolize Ancel and want to be knights as he is. Hal is determined to become a royal guardsman, while Edward wants to do everything Hal does.”

  “Our middle daughter, Nan, is ten and two,” Merryn said. “She is better with her bow and arrow than any of our boys—including Ancel—while Jessimond, our youngest, is only five. You will meet all of them soon, plus more cousins than you can swat a stick at—and their children.”

  “I am an only child, so I look forward to marrying into such a large family,” Margery shared.

  “What of your parents?” asked Geoffrey. “Are they still alive?”

  Margery took a deep breath and explained how her widowed mother married Lord Umfrey many years ago and how they had both been killed in the peasants’ rebellion in June.

  Merryn took her hand. “I am sorry to hear of this, Margery. We didn’t know.” She squeezed Margery’s hand in comfort. “I hope that you will come to look upon Geoffrey and me as parents.”

  “I would like that, my lady,” Margery said quietly. She chose not to speak of Lord Joseph Ormond and how he wasn’t her true father. Mayhap, if she and Ancel learned any news of her birth father, they could share that knowledge with Ancel’s parents.

  Ancel took her hand. “Though the king has determined that Highfield will come to me, marrying Margery is what I treasure most.” He grew serious. “I have watched for all these years and seen how the two of you have loved one another. I always wanted, one day, to have what you have between you. I never thought I’d find it. I wasn’t even looking for it.”

  He turned and gazed lovingly at Margery. “But once I met this woman, I understood what love is. She is the only one for me.” He turned back to his parents. “I wanted you to know that. We are a love match, as the two of you were. We feel blessed to have found each other.”

  Merryn smiled at them through tear-filled eyes as she patted Margery’s hand. Geoffrey beamed as a proud father.

  In that moment, Margery knew she’d found a new family.

  *

  Margery dressed in the velvet that Ancel had brought back from London. He’d told her the deep russet color made her eyes and skin glow, so she was more than happy to wear it tonight while they celebrated the last night of Geoffrey and Merryn’s time at Highfield. The week had passed quickly as they’d shown the de Montforts the estate and the surrounding area and introduced them to many of their tenants and workers.

  She opened the door to the hallway and found Ancel waiting for her. He looked handsome in a hunter green cotehardie.

  “I thought I would escort you downstairs,” he said. “After this.”

  His lips touched hers for a mom
ent. She longed for more from him but knew they needed to head to the great hall.

  “Have you packed what you will need for our trip to Kinwick?” he asked as he led her to the stairs.

  “Almost. I’m waiting for one last thing—what Christine has been working on for me to wear at our wedding. I tried it on yesterday afternoon and she had a few finishing touches to make. Everything else is already in my trunk but I’ll be ready for our journey after we break our fast tomorrow morning.”

  “Mother is pleased that you’ve planned a special meal for them tonight.”

  “I can’t say enough good things about your mother. And your father. They are wonderful people and have been so gracious and friendly to me.”

  “They adore you, as well. Mother already claims you as another daughter. I think she believes it was her idea that we should marry.”

  They entered the great hall and saw that most everyone had already been seated. Ancel led her to the dais and they greeted his parents.

  Suddenly, Sarah appeared before her. Her friend seemed distraught.

  “My lady, I must speak with you.” She glanced over her shoulder.

  “Can it wait until after we’ve dined?” Margery asked.

  Sarah frowned. “I suppose so. But it’s important that we talk tonight.” She hurried away, her head down. Margery hoped everything was all right between Sarah and Harry.

  As servants brought out the haddock and venison, Margery caught sight of someone new serving the meal to the soldiers and turned to Ancel.

  “Do you know that woman? I’m not familiar with her.”

  Before he could reply, Agnes set a trencher in front of them.

  “That’s Eua, my lady. She’s Matthew Cheyne’s wife. Eua just returned from Billericay, where she’s been staying with her daughter. The girl had her first babe and from what Eua says, it was a most difficult birth. She stayed on until her daughter got back on her feet.”

  “I remember now,” Ancel said. “When I hired Matthew as our new smithy, he told me his wife was away. I said we could certainly use her help inside the manor house once she returned.”

  “I see. If I don’t speak with her tonight, I’ll be sure to do so before we leave tomorrow.”

  More courses came out and it pleased Margery how well everything tasted. She could tell Merryn and Geoffrey enjoyed their food by how much they ate. As the meal drew to an end, she told Ancel she wanted to say a few words to those gathered.

  Rising to her feet with her pewter cup in hand, Margery opened her mouth to speak—until she heard that grating voice from months ago.

  “More wine, my lady?”

  A wave of nausea ran through her as blackness rushed up and clouded her vision. She wavered, her hand tightening on the cup. No, she refused to faint.

  Not when justice must be meted out.

  “I asked if you wanted more wine, Lady Margery.”

  Margery lowered her gaze to Eua, the new servant who stood in front of the dais offering her wine. Slamming down her cup on the table, Margery shouted, “You murdered my mother!”

  She watched as the woman tensed and panic filled her faded, blue eyes. The servant looked around wildly as silence blanketed the great hall and then her head dropped.

  “Stop,” Margery ordered calmly. “Look at me, Eua Cheyne.”

  The smithy’s wife reluctantly raised her eyes. In them, Margery saw the panic subsiding, only to be replaced by anger.

  And resentment.

  “I heard you as you berated my mother,” she accused the woman standing before her. “My mother—who was bedridden and helpless. A kind, gentle soul who had done nothing to deserve a death sentence from someone she had never even seen.”

  Margery took a deep breath and gripped the table for support. “I saw what you did to her. I found her. Her throat cut. The bedclothes drenched in her blood. I will never forget that last sight of her—and you are to blame.”

  “She deserved it!” Eua spat on the ground and then waved a hand about as she faced those gathered in the great hall. “All nobility deserved what happened to them.” She spun around to face those on the dais again. “I only wish we could have found you that day. I would have enjoyed slitting that pretty throat of yours and watching the life drain from you as I did your sainted mother.”

  Margery knocked her cup from the table. “My mother was considerate and brave. I will never forget what she looked like when you had finished with her. She deserves justice—and I will claim it for her.”

  Suddenly, Matthew Cheyne appeared behind his wife. The smithy looked as if he’d aged a dozen years since Margery had seen him yesterday.

  “Eua, what have you done?” he whispered.

  She glared at her husband. “I marched for the poor that day, Matthew.”

  “But we had nothing to do with Lord Umfrey and his family. Why would you—”

  His wife laughed harshly. “You are so weak, Matthew. A puppet of the rich. You bow to them and make their weapons and shoe their horses, all while they trample on good people such as you. Your son. Me.” She shook a finger at him. “I would do what I did a hundred times more if I had but the chance.”

  Matthew shook his head. “You are not the woman I wed. You are a vile, wicked stranger.”

  Sir Terryn had risen to his feet and latched on to Eua’s arm.

  “Let go of me, you swine. You are as bad as the rest of them.” She struggled to release herself from his grasp. When she couldn’t, she went still.

  Turning to Margery, the unrepentant woman said, “You want justice for your beloved mother? So be it.”

  With that, she reached with her free arm and snatched the blade resting at Sir Terryn’s waist, swiping it across her throat. A thin red line appeared on her neck and then gushed freely as Eua fell to the floor.

  Margery screamed and then the world went black.

  Chapter 19

  Margery felt strong arms lifting her. She tried to open her eyes but found it took too much effort. A familiar masculine scent invaded her nostrils and she knew Ancel carried her. It caused her to relax and she gave in to the darkness again.

  The next thing she knew, hushed voices spoke around her. This time, she fought to keep her eyes open and found she was lying in the bedchamber she had shared with her mother.

  A scream formed on her lips, the image of Eua Cheyne cutting her throat, her blood spurting everywhere. Margery threw her hand over her mouth to keep it from escaping.

  A heavy weight sank next to her. Ancel captured her wrist in his large hand, rubbing his thumb against the tender underside. The motion calmed her. She glanced up and saw Merryn standing on the other side of the bed. The noblewoman sat beside her and took her other hand as she stroked Margery’s hair.

  “Do you need anything?” she asked softly.

  Margery shook her head. Tears welled in her eyes. She noticed Sarah standing at the foot of the bed, a sympathetic look on her face.

  “You wanted to warn me,” she said to her friend. “About Eua.”

  “Aye. I saw her in the kitchen before the evening meal began. Mother told me she was Matthew’s wife come back from Billericay.” Sarah’s mouth trembled. “But I knew her from before. I saw what she did to your poor mother.”

  Margery sat up and reached her hands out. Merryn moved aside and Sarah came and took them.

  “I feared for you that day, Sarah. I was hiding in a secret passageway within the walls of the keep. I came back to protect Mother and could hear what went on. You were very brave and stood firm against that mob.”

  Sarah shuddered. “I was so afraid, my lady. I thought they might find you. I did what I could to put them off your trail.”

  “And I appreciated that.” Margery turned to Ancel. “Where is your father?”

  His hand clasped her shoulder and kneaded it gently. “Father is seeing to matters downstairs. He will determine if Matthew Cheyne or his son had anything to do with the rebellion.”

  “I doubt it,” she said. “Ma
tthew looked at Eua as if he didn’t recognize her. The disbelief on his face told me he is innocent of any crime.”

  A light rap at the door sounded and Geoffrey de Montfort entered the bedchamber and crossed the room. Margery was touched by the concern for her on the nobleman’s face.

  “I have spoken to both the smithy and his boy,” he said. “It’s my belief that they had no knowledge of Eua’s role in the uprising.” Geoffrey paused. “Matthew is most upset but he wishes to speak with you, Margery. Are you willing to see him? He’s waiting outside the door.”

  “Aye. Bring him to me.” She pushed herself to a sitting position and steeled herself for the encounter.

  Matthew Cheyne walked in, his head bowed as he shuffled toward the bed. As he raised his eyes to meet hers, Margery saw only pain and frustration.

  “My lady, I am here to apologize to you. Eua . . . Eua did something unspeakable, acting against the laws of both God and man. ‘Twas if she changed into a stranger before my very eyes tonight. I had no idea her heart had turned so black and such wickedness grew within her.”

  Fat tears began rolling down the blacksmith’s face, spilling onto his faded tunic. “Lady Margery, I want you to know how sorry I am for Eua’s crimes against you and your mother. I realize nothing I can do or say can bring Lady Marian back to you.” His voice quivered and his limbs trembled violently.

  Margery’s heart told her that she could not blame this man in any way for his wife’s vile actions. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Matthew,” she said simply.

  “But my . . . my wife . . .” His voice trailed off.

  “Matthew, I am sorry that you had to find out the way you did about Eua’s role in the events that occurred at Highfield,” Margery said. “In no way do I blame you—or John—for what she did. Eua’s actions were her own. She alone is responsible and will one day stand in judgment for her sins.”

  “Thank you for being so understanding, my lady.” He wiped his eyes with his sleeves, struggling to go on. “I come to tell you that John and I will leave tonight. You need never look upon us again and be reminded of what . . . of what Eua did. Highfield will be a better place with us gone.”