by Alexa Aston
“Nay. We will walk home if need be.”
Rand enfolded her in his arms and held her tightly against him. Jessimond looked up and said, “Take care of him for me.”
“I will.”
With that promise, Rand released her. Jessimond nodded to Peter and he and Agatha accompanied her from the keep. A dilapidated wagon awaited them. She saw her lute in the back and climbed up into the wagon’s bed. She claimed the lute, locking her arms possessively around it as Peter assisted Agatha. The girl came and sat next to Jessimond. She slipped her hand through Jessimond’s arm and held it firmly.
Herleva ran out, a basket in her hand. She gave it to Peter and then hurried back inside the keep, her eyes avoiding Jessimond.
Peter set her things in the back and then climbed into the driver’s seat. They passed through the gates of Hartefield and continued down the road. When they reached the end of it, Peter looked over his shoulder for instructions.
“Bexley. We go to Bexley,” Jessimond confirmed.
Chapter 22
Jessimond deliberately kept her mind a blank. If she thought about the situation, she would collapse in grief. Peter kept the horse at a walk so the cart wouldn’t fall apart from the vibrations. She wondered how far the vehicle would make it before disintegrating.
Finally, they crossed from Hartefield to Glenmore. She waited until she thought they were halfway across Lord Simeon’s estate and called out to Peter to pull off the road. He did as she asked and assisted her and Agatha from the wagon. Jessimond indicated the basket and he lifted it. They walked a few paces and sat on the ground. Without a word, Peter opened the basket and distributed the legs of chicken and gave Jessimond the loaf of bread to divide. He began slicing cheese.
“There are things you need to know, Agatha,” Jessimond began.
“About Kinwick?” Agatha asked. “Or why you parted on poor terms with Marcus.”
“He’s not Marcus. He’s Lord Marcus de Harte, the Baron of Harteley. His father passed last week and as the only de Harte son, Marcus inherited the title,” she explained.
Agatha face crumpled. “Since he’s a lord now, he doesn’t want you anymore, Jess?”
“Nay, Agatha. Lord Marcus already has a wife.”
Her talkative friend only stared at her, dumfounded. Peter sprang to his feet. Jessimond feared he might take off running to Hartefield and pummel Marcus to a bloody lump.
She held a hand up. “Wait, Peter.”
He froze. “Why should I?” he said, his tone surly.
“Lord Marcus did not know he was betrothed when he joined the mummers. His father handled the betrothal contracts and acted as his proxy while he was away fighting with the king.”
Peter thought a moment and then argued, “But he returned to Hartefield. Saw his father. And he still came back for you, Jess.” His fists began to flex.
“His wife was a few heartbeats from death.” She paused to let that sink in.
“Lord Marcus has a tender heart,” Agatha pointed out. “That’s why he came for Jess. He wanted her to ease the baroness’ suffering.”
“Aye,” Jessimond agreed. “Only my mother taught me too well, I suppose. Lady Ailith is still ill but she will recover. Lord Marcus must remain true to his vows with her.”
Pain crossed Peter’s face. “I am so sorry, Jess.” He came and sat next to her, putting his arm about her shoulder and drawing her close. “I would not have understood before now. I know Lord Marcus loves you as much as I love Agatha. If I had to give her up now, I would be lost.”
She took comfort in Peter’s presence but pressed on. “Agatha, there is more to my story. Just as Marcus is Lord Marcus, I am also of the nobility. I am Lady Jessimond de Montfort, youngest daughter of the Earl and Countess of Kinwick.”
Agatha couldn’t hide her astonishment. She looked from Jessimond to Peter. “So . . . you aren’t brother and sister?”
“Nay. Peter is the son of our blacksmith and is a fine one in his own right. We grew up playing together since I am the youngest of six and my siblings are much older than I am. Peter and I are only a year apart.”
Agatha thought things over. “I like your name. Jessimond. It suits you.”
“Sometimes my family does call me Jess.”
Agatha frowned. “Why were you with the mummers? I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to understand everything now,” Jessimond reassured her. “Just know that you have a place at Kinwick, whether it is helping inside the keep or merely taking care of Peter.”
“This is so much to take in.”
“There’s more, I’m afraid. We aren’t going to Kinwick first. The next estate after Glenmore belongs to my oldest brother, Ancel. He is the Earl of Mauntell. We will remain at Bexley and send word to Kinwick. My parents will come once they receive my missive and then escort us home.”
“My lady? Does Lord Marcus know you are a daughter of Kinwick and not a mere servant there?” Peter asked.
She shook her head. “I was going to tell him but I never found time alone with him. He was consumed with his new responsibilities at Hartefield while I spent my time nursing Lady Ailith or caring for Livia, her child.”
“Whose child is Lady Livia?” Agatha asked.
“That is where things become complicated,” Jessimond said. “For now, you know all you need to know. I would ask that neither of you speak of my special friendship with Marcus. My feelings are still raw since I only learned of his marriage today. In time, I might be able to discuss it. For now? I want to enjoy my time with Ancel and Margery and close the door on the last few months.”
“If that’s what you wish, we will respect that,” Peter said.
Jessimond stood. “Good. Let’s continue on to Bexley.”
Peter assisted them into the cart’s bed again and after three hours, they arrived. Driving through the gates, the two rear wheels on the vehicle collapsed and one side fell to the ground. She and Agatha gingerly climbed from the wagon while Peter removed their possessions and placed them on the ground.
“Free the horse and take him to the stables,” Jessimond instructed Peter. “I’ll have someone come for our things. Mayhap the wood from the wagon can be chopped and used as firewood. Agatha, come with me to the keep.”
As they started off, her friend said, “I hope I will remember to call you Lady Jessimond from now on.”
“If you forget, it’s not a problem,” she assured Agatha, leading her through the bailey.
When they reached the keep, Jessimond’s heart began pounding with the familiar faces she saw awaiting her.
“Jess!” Nan cried. She moved toward Jessimond and immediately, Jessimond saw that her sister was again with child. Looking at Nan’s slighted rounded belly, she believed the child would come next February or March.
They embraced and she said, “I see I am to be an aunt again. Since you already have a boy and a girl, what do wish for this time?”
Nan laughed, her hands going to her belly and rubbing it affectionately. “Tristan says as long as the babe is healthy, we should be happy with whatever comes out.” Nan hugged her again. “Oh, it’s so good to see you, Jess.”
By now, Margery and Elysande had joined them. Jessimond embraced her cousin. Elysande had taught her to ride and then much about horses. She had fond memories of time spent at Sandbourne and in its stables.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Nan and Tristan came on their annual pilgrimage to purchase some Sandbourne horses,” Elysande revealed. “Michael and I decided to accompany them back to Leventhorpe and make sure the horses were settled in.”
Margery held out her arms and Jessimond went to her brother’s wife.
“Fortunately, they all decided to stop for a brief visit at Bexley on their way to Leventhorpe,” Margery said. “When I told them you were due to arrive, they wanted to wait and see you.”
“Oh!” Jessimond realized she’d forgotten all about Agatha. She turned and saw the
young woman hanging back. She waved her forward and noticed Peter coming toward their group. “This is Agatha. She will be coming to Kinwick when I return. She and Peter plan to wed.”
“Congratulations,” the three women said in unison and laughed.
“Nice to meet you, Agatha,” Nan said. As Peter arrived, she greeted him. “Well done, Peter. She’s lovely.”
“Thank you, Lady Nan. ’Tis good to see you.”
“Let’s return to the keep,” Margery suggested. “The men will be through in the training yard soon. I’ll need to arrange a place for Agatha and Peter to stay.”
“I can sleep in the stables tonight, my lady, since I’ll leave at first light for Kinwick,” Peter said. He looked to Jessimond. “Will you have written a missive for me to deliver to Lord Geoffrey and Lady Merryn by then?”
Jessimond thought of the message she had written in her mind several times this past week, the one telling her parents that she had fallen in love with Marcus de Harte and would wed him. Words that would never be written, much less delivered.
“Nay, Peter. Simply tell my parents that I arrived safely at Bexley and am eager to see them,” she replied.
“Very good, my lady.”
Margery led them back to the keep and handed Agatha off to a servant. She also asked that the evening meal be brought to the solar so that the family could enjoy private time together. The women had only talked for a few minutes when Ancel, Michael, and Tristan entered and three servants brought huge platters of food.
She embraced Michael and Tristan and then let Ancel pick her up and swing her around. He set her down and frowned.
“What’s wrong, Jessimond?” he asked, drawing her away from the others.
“Nothing,” she quickly assured him. “I’m merely worn out after months of travel on the road.”
His palm cradled her face. “You know I would do anything for you.”
She covered his hand with hers. “I know you would slay dragons for me, Ancel. If I see any, I will certainly call you,” she said teasingly.
He kissed her forehead and then looked to the others. Jessimond saw the table now laden with food as everyone began seating themselves.
“I am so hungry,” she proclaimed. “Let’s eat.”
She and Ancel took a place at the table as the group began filling their trenchers. She saw venison with frumenty and inhaled its heavy spices, and looked forward to eating the blackmanger she spied, as well.
“I want to hear about your time with the mummers,” Tristan said.
Jessimond told them of King Ralph’s talent and how the others vied for various roles. She recalled funny stories involving Jopp and shared how the Vawdrys ran the troupe, as well as the various places they’d journeyed.
“What were you involved with?” asked Michael.
“My chief task was mending costumes that had been damaged and sewing new ones for upcoming plays. I also cooked many of the troupe’s evening meals. Probably my favorite thing was serving as a troubadour during a part of every day.”
She related how Bartholomew had fallen ill and how she’d stepped into his shoes for a few performances.
“Once he returned, Elias and Moss asked if I would join Bartholomew on stage before each play began. The crowds seemed to enjoy that. We sang some songs together and performed a solo each time.”
“I’ve always enjoyed when you and Beatrice sing together in Kinwick’s great hall,” Margery said.
“You and Beatrice harmonize beautifully,” Elysande added. “I’m sure your voice also blended nicely with Bartholomew’s.” She sighed. “I wish I had such a talent and could sing.”
Tristan laughed. “Your talent is knowing horses, Elysande.”
Michael slipped an arm about his wife’s waist. “And keeping me happy.” He growled and kissed her cheek.
A wave of sadness swept through Jessimond at the sweet, familiar gesture. Marcus would be doing the same kind of things to Ailith once she healed, while Jessimond would spend the rest of her life alone. She glanced up and saw Nan studying her with interest.
To place the focus on others in their group, Jessimond said, “I have been dominating the conversation tonight. I need you to tell me what’s been happening with your families since the last time I saw you.”
Talk turned to their children and estates. Jessimond sat back and listened quietly, no longer adding anything to the conversation.
Finally, the hour grew late and Margery said, “Let me take you to your bedchamber, Jessimond.”
“I can do that,” Nan volunteered. She stood and waited for Jessimond to do the same and then linked their arms. Looking to Tristan, she said, “Would you check on the children? I won’t be long.”
Nan led her down the corridor and opened a chamber door. Ushering her inside, she closed it behind her and then released Jessimond’s arm.
“I know you better than anyone, Jess. You’re hiding something from me. From us all. Please, tell me what’s wrong. Let me help you. Whatever it is, I want to make things right for you.”
Jessimond burst into tears and fell into her sister’s arms.
Chapter 23
Jessimond swung her sword. It met Nan’s and the clang of steel sounded. Her arms reverberated with the contact. She’d been reluctant to spar with her sister, due to her delicate condition, but Nan insisted.
“I’m always sick most of the morning during the first few months but as I enter my fourth month, it never fails. I get a burst of energy and feel as if I can conquer the world,” Nan had shared.
The way her sister moved gracefully now verified her words. With that reassurance, Jessimond had agreed to duel with Nan. Her advice to Jessimond had been to keep busy each day until Geoffrey and Merryn arrived. Consequently, Jessimond’s hours had been filled from mass shortly after dawn each morning until bedtime. She’d taken long, daily rides with Elysande and even helped her cousin tend to a lame horse in the Bexley stables. With Margery, Jessimond had worked in the gardens, baked bread, and made candles. Though Ancel’s three children were away fostering, she’d been able to spend many hours playing with Nan’s two little ones. Her niece was two and her nephew five. Both were adorable and inquisitive.
She did fall into bed at night exhausted from all of the day’s activities—but sleep took its time coming. Despite knowing it would bring her nothing but misery, Jessimond lay awake and thought about Marcus. She recalled the first time she’d caught sight of him that day in June. Remembered watching him duel with Rand and his few turns as an actor when called upon. She could see him unloading the wagons and pitching the mummers’ tents at each stop, and thought back to how he helped her carry the dishes to a stream to be cleaned.
And their kisses. Those many, drugging kisses.
Jessimond tried her best to remember each occasion they kissed. The sensations she’d felt. The feel of his sleek muscles bunching beneath her fingers. His scent. His taste. Over and over, she relived their time alone in the cottage, when she’d given everything of herself to him. Coming together, their bodies as one. Love for him would surge through her at these memories.
Then the tears would begin to flow. She knew it was wrong to wallow in such memories but she couldn’t help herself. Marcus had come so suddenly in her life and then left it even more abruptly. She would do everything in her power to remember everything about him and never forget.
For memories would be all she would ever possess of him. He belonged to another now. It mattered not—Jessimond would love Marcus de Harte for the remainder of her life.
The sound of a sword slicing through the air had her dance back just in time.
“That was much too close,” Nan admonished, giving her a long look. “Don’t let your mind wander.”
“I’m sorry.”
They continued for several minutes until Nan called a halt to their swordplay.
“I’m getting hungry,” she explained.
“You stay hungry,” Jessimond teased.
Nan
laughed. “I’m simply making up for the weeks I couldn’t keep my morning meal down.” She rubbed her belly with both hands. “I need to make sure this little one grows strong. Who knows? I might even carry two babes inside me, like Alys and Ancel. That would certainly surprise Tristan.”
Her sister linked an arm through Jessimond’s. “Let’s go inside.”
Suddenly, Margery appeared. “They’re here. The de Montfort banner has been sighted from the wall walk.” She frowned at them and Jessimond was aware of how disheveled they appeared after their bout. “You have time to change your clothing if you hurry.”
Jessimond and Nan rushed into the keep and parted, each seeking their separate bedchamber. Jessimond stripped off her tunic and pants and washed her hands and face before donning one of the smocks and cotehardies Margery had loaned her. She went into the corridor and saw Nan emerging from her room, closing the door behind her.
“Are the children still napping?” she asked.
“Aye. Like sleeping angels. Let’s go greet Mother and Father.”
They joined Margery, who now stood with Ancel, at the entrance to the keep. Michael, Elysande, and Tristan had joined them. Jessimond heard the sound of hoof beats growing closer and then spied her family’s banner as the riders entered the inner bailey. Her throat grew thick with emotion as she caught sight of her parents. Love blossomed in her heart for these two wonderful people who had taken in a babe of unknown origin and loved her as one of their own. She broke away from the group and ran toward them.
Her father pulled on his reins and leaped from his horse. He gathered her up and Jessimond relaxed for the first time since she’d arrived at Bexley. Being in Geoffrey de Montfort’s arms brought a sense of security. It was the beginning of her healing.
He released her. “I know it’s only been a few months, Jessimond, but I have missed you so much, my sweet girl.” He brushed a tender kiss against her brow. Jessimond felt truly treasured.
