by Kris Tualla
Jakob dipped his chin in approval. “And we will return to London to settle our finances, before going on to Arendal.”
Avery considered the knight. “Will you go to København?”
“Yes. After we visit my family.” Jakob shrugged. “But I have been writing King Christian regularly, so the man is informed of what transpired at the Order. I shall write him now and tell him that I am going to Arendal when I leave Spain, and why.”
Avery’s chest tightened. “Will you ask permission to marry this time?”
Jakob considered her through narrowed eyes. “No. I do not believe I will. At my age I have no desire to wait for an answer.”
“What will come of your position?”
Jakob huffed a sardonic laugh. “We shall see.”
February 27, 1519
Percy wiped his eyes, his face flushed with laughter. “Hansen you are not funny often, but when you are, your humor is priceless!”
Jakob leaned his backside against a tall table in Percy’s outer chamber, arms crossed over his chest, and gave his friend a crooked grin. “Takk du. But this is not a joke.”
Percy paused in mid-wipe, his hand hovering in front of his face. “I apologize, Jakob. Did I misunderstand you?” The hand dropped to his lap and his expression grew less jovial. “When I asked what you accomplished yesterday, I thought you said that you met with the priest about reading the banns for your marriage.”
Jakob chuckled. “You heard correctly.”
Percy’s brow twisted in disbelief. “Whom are you marrying?”
Jakob threw his arms wide. “Whom would you expect? Lady Avery, of course!”
“No!” Percy jumped to his feet. “Does she know?”
Now it was Jakob’s turn to laugh. “Of course!” he wheezed. “Can you imagine her reaction if I tried to ambush her?”
Percy whooped at that. “She would remove your stones, tie them around your neck, and drown you with them!”
“Yes. And rightly so.” Jakob laughed, pointing a finger at Percy. “I want you as my second.”
“I will be honored.” Percy bowed at the waist. When he straightened, all his amusement was gone. “In all seriousness, Jakob, has Avery accepted your proposal?”
“No, she turned me down, as you know.” Jakob gave a little shrug. “But this time she asked me. And I accepted.”
Percy wagged his head, admiration sculpting his features. “Not only did you melt the Ice Maiden, but she proposed to you. I am in the presence of a master.”
Jakob waved away the comment. “She and I understand each other. That is all.”
“So you will wed in three weeks?” Percy frowned. “What about her finances?”
Jakob straightened and turned around. He poured two steins of the cooled ale waiting on the table which he had been leaning against and handed one to Bethington. Then he recounted one-by-one the lady’s unmatched activities of the previous day.
“Avery is a startlingly intelligent woman,” Percy said. “And she has substantial courage to make all of those arrangements and not be certain of your answer.”
Jakob dipped his chin. “I believe she had a fairly good idea of my response.”
Percy drained his cup. “We should leave. You can tell me the rest on the way to the cathedral.”
*****
“Congratulation, Hansen!” Diego de Mendoza pounded Jakob’s back as his deep voice bounced off the cathedral’s soaring stone walls. “The lady deserves to be happy after her unfortunate marriage to my cousin.”
Jakob accepted the congratulations from his brothers in the Order, waiting until the hubbub died down before broaching the subject foremost in his mind. “We will be married on March the nineteenth. Will the Order be adjourned by that time?”
Glances bounced around the gathered group of knights, each one seemingly questioning the others.
Pietro San Severino spoke up first. “I believe we should be done in less than a fortnight. Do you gentlemen agree?”
Alvaro de Zuniga nodded. “The moment France agrees to come to Spain’s aid, we can adjourn.”
“And they agreed to do so once they signed Henry of England’s treaty, did they not?” Diego de Mendoza directed his comment toward the nearby French knight, Laurent de Gorrevod, Comte de Pont de Vaux.
The Frenchman stepped forward, chest puffed out to accept the challenge. “Have you read the treaty, Señor Mendoza?”
“I admit that I have not,” he replied.
“If you had,” one haughty brow lifted, “then you would know what it states.”
Jakob glanced at Bethington—who remained determinedly tight-lipped—before jumping into the fray himself and bringing the issue out in the open.
“If I recall from my time in England,” he ventured. “The treaty says that those who sign agree to come to each other’s aid, if any come under attack.”
“Exactement!” Gorrevod pointed a finger at Mendoza. “And Spain is not under attack.”
“Our enemies are at our door!” Zuniga blurted.
“They are across the sea.” Gorrevod threw up his hands. “If they sail, and if they make landfall, then call on us and we will respond. Until then…”
With a shrug, the Frenchman returned to his seat.
“We are going to have to settle this or no one will ever get out of here alive.” San Severino turned to face Jakob. “In the meantime, I believe you should recuse yourself, tell your king you did so to avoid having to choose between the Spanish and the French, and get yourself married.”
Jakob laughed and then coughed to disguise his reaction when several scowling countenances turned in his direction. “That is very sage advice, my friend. And I believe that I shall take it.”
*****
Zurina stared at Avery, blinking back tears. “I am so happy for you, my lady!”
“Thank you, Zurina.” Avery had not stopped smiling for the past twelve hours or so, and was convinced she had smiled through the night as well. “We have quite a lot of work to do, I am afraid. Señor Peña will allow me to remain here until Sir Hansen and I depart in three weeks, but what I am taking with me must be packed up before then.”
“And it shall be accomplished, do not have a moment’s concern about that.” Zurina wiped her eyes and looked around the room. “What shall you wear for your wedding?”
“I do not care,” Avery admitted. “You choose for me. I would be willing to parade through the streets of Barcelona in a nightdress, if that meant our marriage was legally and quickly performed.”
The maid chuckled. “I would never allow that. Your reputation aside, my reputation as a lady’s maid would be completely destroyed.”
Avery considered her simple chambers; everything of value had been sold and only the bare necessities remained. “I wonder where we shall spend our wedding night.”
“If you choose to spend it here, rest assured I shall make it perfect,” Zurina assured her.
Considering the many hours she spent in Jakob’s arms on a simple couch, Avery was not overly concerned. Her first full night with him as her husband would be wonderful wherever they lay down together.
“My lady?”
Feeling a blush warm her cheeks, Avery pulled her attention back to her maid. “I am certain you will. Thank you, Zurina.”
March 16, 1519
Only three more days.
Jakob walked to Avery’s palazzo in the bright midday, having left his final meeting at Barcelona Cathedral. He gave his official leave to the Order of the Golden Fleece this morning, on the grounds that his king requested him to do so.
It was not the truth, exactly, though Jakob had written to Christian and explained the situation. With the members from both France and Spain pressuring the others to take a side in their debate, he wrote, it was better for Jakob to take his leave before Denmark and Norway made a powerful enemy with either side.
He was certain that Christian would agree. But if Christian did not, by the time his letter reached København,
and the king responded, it would be too late in any case. The Order would certainly have adjourned by then.
With the majordomo no longer in residence, housekeeper Jacinda greeted him at the gate and took him to the small drawing room to meet with Avery. Though Jakob thought the palazzo looked empty after Avery sold the majority of the furnishings, the house was positively denuded now.
In the last weeks since he accepted her proposal, Avery had packed or sold nearly every bit of the contents on the first and second floors. She only left the servants’ quarters on the ground floor intact, as those men and women would remain in residence here, eventually serving under the leadership of a new majordomo of Señor Peña’s choosing.
Jakob’s mouth twitched as he recalled Esteban’s impotent anger at his abrupt dismissal, once the scheming weasel was out-maneuvered by Avery. The man received far less than he ultimately deserved, but at the least he was finally gone.
Avery swept into the room, her eyes twinkling once they landed on his.
Jakob grinned. “Du er for vakker til å være ekte.”
“I am very glad you think I am beautiful.” Avery reached out her hands. “And I assure you that I am quite real. The ache in my aging back reminds me of this fact.”
Jakob clasped her hands and pulled her into a lingering kiss. “I will love away all of your aches and pains,” he teased.
“And I will let you,” she teased back. “Are you hungry?”
He nodded. “Come have lunch with me.”
Avery gave him a chastising look. “I do have food here, Jakob. I am not destitute.”
Jakob looked around the sparse room with exaggerated skepticism. “Forgive me if I do not believe you.”
Avery pulled her hands free, punched him in the chest, and went to ring for food. “Did you extricate yourself from the Order?”
Jakob pulled a deep breath through his nose. “I did.”
Avery turned back to face him, her brow furrowed. “And in just three more days, Christian will have two reasons to remove you from his service.”
“I do not care.”
“Are you certain?” Avery slipped her arms around his waist. “You say so now, but this is a very unusual choice for any knight to make.”
Jakob held her close. “With the income from your ships, we shall be fine. And, I am willing to return to England if necessary, and ask to enter Henry’s service. He owes me his life, if you will recall.”
“As long as he does,” Avery huffed.
“My lady?” Jacinda stood in the doorway. “You have another visitor.”
Avery pulled away from him and faced the housekeeper. “Who is it?”
“He says he comes from Queen Catherine.”
“He is English? Show him up!”
Jacinda nodded and disappeared from sight.
Avery beamed up at him. “Jakob, the money!”
A sense of relief suffused his core, chasing away the apprehension of uncertainty which the queen’s long silence had fomented. Though the money was no longer critical, it would still be extremely helpful in Avery’s transition.
He grinned. “It must be. Why send a servant otherwise?”
The man who appeared was stout, middle-aged, and dressed in full beefeater regalia. When he spied Avery, he bowed.
“Good day, Lady Avery. I come with greetings from Her Royal Highness, Queen Catherine of Aragon.”
“Thank you, good sir. Please come in.”
As he approached her, the courier’s eyes moved in wide-eyed surprise around the empty room.
“Your arrival is perfectly timed, good sir,” Avery said. “I am vacating Barcelona in a matter of days, as you can see.”
The man’s shoulders relaxed at her words. “Yes, my lady.”
“Have you something for me?”
“Yes, my lady. Please follow me.”
Avery and Jakob followed the beefeater onto the balcony. In the courtyard below was a wagon with three padlocked wooden trunks on its bed. Two large draft horses chuffed and stomped their hooves on the tiled patio.
“I was charged to hand this into your hands only. As you can imagine, the queen did not trust any other method of delivery.”
“Yes, indeed.” Avery glanced at Jakob with a stunned expression. “How much is there?”
“Nine hundred pounds sterling. Three hundred in coinage in each trunk.” He reached into his tunic and withdrew a leather pouch. “I also have a signed and sealed bank debit from the queen, allowing the holder to withdraw up to an additional eight thousand and one hundred pounds from the royal treasury within one year from today.”
The beefeater handed the folded parchment to Avery. Jakob perused it over her shoulder. With black and red ink, plus gold leaf, an elaborate signature, and a wax seal trailing three short ribbons in the Tudor colors, the document was obviously meant to impress.
“Ten percent in coin, plus signed and documented surety for the remainder,” Jakob said. “The queen was very wise in handling the loan this way.”
Avery gave him a thoughtful smile. “If the remainder is not claimed in full within the year, then my repayment is diminished.”
Jakob nodded. “And, with the funds you were able to save, it may not need to be.”
Avery heaved a sigh. “I am so relieved, you cannot imagine.”
“Though this is only a portion of the total, I believe you should deliver it to the bankers immediately,” Jakob cautioned. “You have a largely female staff here and no defenses.”
The beefeater slid Jakob an approving look. “I agree, sir. My lady, if you will direct me?”
“I will ride with him,” Jakob declared. “Have Antonio follow with you in the carriage.”
*****
“If I might ask you sir,” Jakob ventured once the silver-and-copper coins were safely deposited in Avery’s account at the bank. “Are you now returning to London?”
“Yes, Sir Hansen.” The beefeater, whose name also turned out to be Henry, waved toward the nearly-emptied wagon and its driver, waiting on the side of the sunny street. “We were instructed to return straightaway and give a report concerning the Lady Avery’s situation to Her Highness.”
“I assume you will return along the same path as you came?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And what was that path?”
Henry shaded his eyes, obviously unperturbed by Jakob’s odd track of questions. “We sailed from London to Bilbao, and drove to Barcelona from there.”
“How much time did that journey require?” Jakob continued.
“Just over one month.”
Avery looked up at Jakob, her expression inscrutable. “What are you thinking?”
Jakob met her gaze, his plan solidifying as he did. “I suggest that Henry and his companion rest here in Barcelona for the next five days.”
Henry frowned. “My lord—”
Jakob held up a hand to interrupt the man’s objection. “Hear me out, Henry. The Lady Avery and I are to be married in three days.”
The beefeater’s jaw dropped. “Are you? Does the queen know?”
“Not yet,” Avery admitted.
Jakob continued before the conversation could veer again. “Two days after that, if the lady has no objection, we shall accompany you back to London.”
Avery’s face brightened. “Jakob, that is brilliant.”
Henry’s uncertain glance shifted to the driver and back. “But what—”
“In the meantime, you shall both relax in the palazzo which I share with Sir Percival Bethington, and enjoy our generous hospitality.” Jakob grinned. “What do you say?”
“The queen don’t know what day we arrived,” the driver said to Henry, his expression hopeful. “Five days ain’t a concern.”
“Gentlemen.” Avery stepped forward and gave the pair a reassuring smile. “If you return to the court with Sir Hansen and myself in your company, any delay will be promptly forgiven, I assure you.”
Henry’s face smoothed. The responsibi
lity for this decision was now in the Lady Avery’s noble hands.
He bowed. “Under that circumstance, I agree, my lady. And we gratefully accept both your generous offer of hospitality, Sir Hansen, and your noble companionship, Lady Avery, on our journey home.”
The grateful look Avery gave Jakob warmed his core, before corralling that heat and sending it straight to his groin. He gave Avery a wicked smile.
Three more days.
Chapter Twenty-One
March 19, 1519
Avery’s heart stuttered in her chest as Antonio handed her down from her carriage. Zurina had spent the morning fussing over her hair and her gown, finally declaring the end result complete less than one half of an hour before her scheduled noon wedding mass. Luckily, her home was less than half a mile from the cathedral and the midday bell had not yet rung.
Avery walked up the steps to the cathedral’s patio alone and moved over the smooth stones as if in a dream. She barely had the chance to adjust to all of the changes in her life over the past weeks and now this pivotal day was already half gone.
While she was marrying for a second time, this was the first time she was marrying for love.
Yet her husband-to-be was from a country and culture she had never given a previous thought to; now that it mattered, she knew she had much more to learn about the Norseman.
Adding to her situation was the fact that both she and he were flying in the face of convention, marrying without permission of their respective sovereigns. While the results of that made no difference in Avery’s case, the decision was most definitely going to affect Jakob’s future circumstances.
Father God, please protect us.
The thick wooden doors under the pointed Gothic arch of Barcelona’s Cathedral de Eulalia stood open, welcoming faithful worshippers on this mild spring day. Avery stepped through the doors, halting as her eyes adjusted to the dimness inside.
She glanced around, looking for Jakob, hearing only the shouted discussion coming from the sanctuary.
