The Age of Knights and Highlanders: A Series Starter Collection

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “I know, my precious girl. But I tell you stories of him all the time.” She kissed her soft cheek. “He would be so proud of you, Alys.”

  She set the child back down and returned the basket to her arm. “We should head back.”

  “Wait! Is that a lark?” Alys raced off deeper into the wood.

  Merryn chuckled. Alys was easily distracted, especially if it involved a bird or animal. She could run herself ragged chasing a butterfly.

  “Come along, Alys,” she called.

  A scream pierced the air.

  “Alys!” Merryn lifted her skirts and ran toward the sound.

  Her daughter met her halfway, running as if a demon chased her. Merryn dropped the basket. Alys leapt into her arms, clinging to her neck. Merryn soothed her.

  “Was it Davy?” she asked.

  One of their aging tenants had grown feeble-minded of late. He wandered about at all hours on the estate. His wife had died two winters past and he had no one else to see to his needs.

  Alys kept her head buried in Merryn’s shoulder.

  “Remember that Davy would never hurt you,” she reassured.

  She decided it might be time for Davy to go to an almshouse. He wasn’t mad. No exorcism would be necessary. But Merryn believed that if he could frighten Alys this much, that they needed to find a better place for him.

  Alys lifted her head. “Not Davy,” she muttered stubbornly. “A man. He called out to me.”

  “A man?” Merryn looked over her shoulder and saw a man slowly making his way toward them.

  Merryn spun around and clutched Alys more tightly to her. Her daughter caught sight of the stranger again and screamed. She pushed away from Merryn and scrambled down and behind her, locking her fingers into her skirts and burying her head into the back of Merryn’s knees.

  She didn’t want to frighten Alys any more than she already was, so she addressed the man quietly.

  “What are you doing on Kinwick lands? You have frightened my poor child half to death. As lady of Kinwick Castle, I insist that you leave. At once.”

  She touched Alys, keeping her from sight.

  “Merryn?”

  He knew her?

  Her eyes skimmed over the stranger and his ragged appearance. His clothes hung on his lean frame in mere tatters. She wondered why they hadn’t fallen apart long ago. His long hair, greasy and unkempt, spilled past his shoulders. The thick, bushy beard disguised most of his face. Who could this be?

  He took a few steps toward her. “Merryn.” He addressed her again, his voice breaking. She heard longing—almost agony—in his tone.

  The sunlight came through the trees and shone upon his face. She saw tears brimming in his eyes. Merryn froze. Her mouth fell open.

  Geoffrey’s eyes. Geoffrey’s hazel eyes.

  “Geoffrey?” she whispered. Instinctively, one hand reached for the brooch nestled on her breast. “Geoffrey?”

  “Aye.” He nodded, his lips trembling.

  Her cherished husband, back from the dead. But looking nothing like the man she’d married.

  God in Heaven, what had been done to him?

  She held a hand out to halt his progress toward them. Despite longing to throw her arms about him, she must protect her child above all else. And Geoffrey had given Alys a horrible fright. Merryn turned and gripped Alys’ shoulders.

  “Alys, love. I need to help this man.”

  Her daughter leaned around and stared at the stranger a moment before she met her mother’s eyes. “Is he sick?”

  “He needs our help, precious. And I need your help, as well, my big girl.”

  Alys brightened. She was a thoughtful, mature child and enjoyed being given a task to complete. “What can I do, Mother?”

  “Go back to Kinwick. Find Raynor. Tell him to come here. Speak to no one else.”

  “Not even Ancel?”

  “Especially not Ancel. Just tell Raynor where I am and I require his assistance.” She handed the basket over. “Then you can take the herbs we’ve picked and put them in the storeroom to dry.”

  “And give Grandmother her lilacs? They need water, Mother.”

  “Of course, my love.”

  Alys glanced back at the man, doubt in her eyes.

  “I shall be fine, Alys. Remember. Send Raynor. Leave the herbs. And take Grandmother her flowers. You two must put them in water so they’ll continue to bloom.”

  “Should I gather what we need to make the barley water for Grandmother?”

  Merryn kissed the top of her daughter’s sweet head. “That would be lovely. Now run along. I will see you shortly.”

  Alys took the basket and ran off, happy to complete her tasks.

  Merryn eagerly turned back, her heart racing. She had dreamed of this moment for so long. Now it was here and she didn’t trust her own eyes. “Is it truly you after all this time? You’ve come home?”

  Geoffrey nodded. Yet, he looked as if he might steal away at any moment.

  “I prayed you would come back to me one day.” She brushed away the tears that cascaded down her cheeks. “No one believed you would. But I had faith. I would have sensed if you had died. And now you’re here. Returned to me.”

  A thousand questions ran through her mind. His ragged appearance frightened her as much as it had Alys, yet she longed to envelop him in her arms.

  Closing the distance between them, Merryn fell into his arms. She buried her face in his chest, overcome by emotion. His arms enveloped her. For a moment, the lonely years fell away as she experienced the joy of Geoffrey’s return. His hand stroked her hair.

  Then his fingers lifted her chin. Their eyes met. His held a longing that her own heart knew. Geoffrey lowered his lips to hers.

  The kiss began gently, in sweet tenderness, as her husband brushed his mouth softly over hers. The missing years melted away, and Merryn’s lips parted in invitation. Geoffrey deepened the kiss and a thrill rushed through her. The image of the ragged stranger fled as she responded to the familiar man she’d wed. Tongues mated as if no time had passed. Merryn knew utter bliss for the first time in years. Love for her husband had never perished. It had survived and now that he’d returned, it could flourish.

  Without warning, Geoffrey broke the kiss and staggered back from her. Once more, the shy stranger stood before her, looking as if he might bolt at any moment. Merryn’s heart ached.

  “Oh, Geoffrey. Where have you been for so long?”

  Chapter 16

  Geoffrey winced at the pain that laced Merryn’s voice. This beautiful woman had endured years of not knowing what had happened to her husband of a single day. He wanted to provide answers to all the questions he knew she had.

  But he’d given his word to Hardie. A solemn oath to never share the truth with anyone.

  The years-long nightmare must remain a secret.

  He hesitated to meet Merryn’s eyes, especially after the passionate kiss that they’d shared. He’d never lied to her before. And yet he, a man of honor, a man of his word, must now look his beloved in the eye . . . and lie.

  Finally, he braved a look. The happiness he’d seen on her face as she’d embraced him had disappeared. As he remained silent, he saw her frustration build. A fire appeared in her eyes. The agony of those years of doubt were about to explode in anger and he could not blame her.

  “I expect an answer, Geoffrey de Montfort,” she ground out. “Where have you been? More than six years have passed since that day I was forced to leave you wounded by the lodge. I returned with help only to find you gone. Missing for a day, which became two, and then a week, a month. Now, years.”

  Her hands fisted. “Do you know how lonely the nights were? My fears? The doubts? And then to discover I was with child?”

  Shame engulfed him.

  Merryn shook her head. “I told them from the beginning that you were dead. ’Twas better than telling them their father ran off or was abducted or God only knows what else.”

  His mind swirled as she lashed
out. And then something she’d said caused him to ask, “Them?”

  “Yes. Them. You have seen Alys.” She paused. “I also gave birth to a son, Ancel.” She shook her head. “He’s the very image of you, from his wild, dark hair and olive skin to his impish smile. Every day I have looked into my boy’s face and my heart has shattered into a thousand pieces. It could never heal because it was impossible to forget you.”

  Merryn slowly crumpled to the ground. She covered her face with both hands. Her shoulders shook violently, but she didn’t utter a sound. Geoffrey took in his strong, brave wife. Is this the way she mourned him all this time? In silence? Keeping her heartache to herself?

  He wanted to comfort her. He wished to place his arms about her again and reassure her that all would well.

  Geoffrey started toward her, but she must have sensed his approach. The look she gave him caused him to stop in his tracks.

  Merryn composed herself and rose, glaring at him. “So you’ll not tell me where you’ve been for over six years?”

  Geoffrey began pacing, feeling he’d been thrust back into his prison cell.

  “Merryn, I . . .” His words trailed off.

  A course of action came to him. He hadn’t known what to say in order to keep his word to Hardie. He stopped and met her eyes.

  “I cannot remember what happened. Where I’ve been. How I came to be here.”

  He sank to his knees and lowered his head. Inside, he screamed, ready to go mad. He loathed lying to her. Yet, it seemed the only way . . .

  Geoffrey felt her drawing near. For some reason, he couldn’t imagine her gentle touch trying to soothe him. She should be disgusted, by his appearance and his obvious falsehoods.

  He leapt to his feet and stepped away. Her outstretched hand fell away. He saw her shock. Disappointment. Hurt.

  “Geoffrey?”

  He turned, immediately recognizing the familiar voice of his best friend.

  His cousin, Raynor, stood a few feet behind Merryn. He’d grown even more handsome since he’d served as Geoffrey’s best man on their wedding day.

  “It’s truly you?” Raynor took a few steps forward. “By Christ, where have you been?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Raynor looked to Merryn and back at him.

  In that moment, Geoffrey knew that Raynor loved Merryn. Loved her deeply.

  Merryn recovered first. “Come,” she said softly. “Let us return to Kinwick. We shall—”

  “Nay! I prefer to wait. Until dark. I do not want others to see me in this state.”

  Once again, his wife and cousin looked at one another. Unspoken words passed between them.

  “I see. I will return for you once night has fallen,” Merryn said.

  “You do not need to be about in the dark, Merryn,” Raynor protested. “I shall stay with Geoffrey until night comes. We can wait until everyone has bedded down to avoid any . . . uncomfortable conversations.”

  “I don’t wish to be seen,” Geoffrey reiterated. “By anyone.”

  “Then I shall return and bring a cloak for you. You may cover your head and most of your face with it,” she promised. “I’ll bring food, too. Raynor, you will stay with him until I return?”

  “Aye. I will remain with my cousin. But let me escort you to the meadow,” Raynor suggested. He took her elbow and looked back over his shoulder. “You will wait here, Geoffrey?”

  Geoffrey nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He watched them depart.

  And then followed noiselessly at a distance.

  They remained silent until they reached the edge of the forest. Once there, they halted. Geoffrey moved close enough to hear what they said.

  “How did you even know him, Merryn? By the ever-living Christ, he is unrecognizable in those rags and his wild hair and long beard.”

  “He frightened poor Alys to death.” She hesitated. “Do you think . . . do you think he’s gone mad?”

  Geoffrey watched Raynor and considered her question. “No. But his reluctance to come into Kinwick surprises me. Why wouldn’t he be eager to receive a welcome from his people?”

  “I have witnessed something similar before,” Merryn shared. “I know no name for it. Something causes a person to lose all memory. One of our stable boys suffered a severe blow to the head when I was young. He did not know who he was for several days. He didn’t recognize his parents or anyone from Wellbury.”

  “But he did remember eventually?”

  “Aye,” Merryn confirmed, “after a week’s time. It was so odd. He could recall how to groom a horse and feed himself, but he hadn’t a clue about himself. Father allowed him to continue working in the stables. And then as if he’d been struck by lightning, he suddenly remembered his name and everyone about him.”

  Geoffrey saw Raynor mull over her words.

  “And you believe Geoffrey may have suffered such a blow?”

  Merryn nodded. “Or something like it. But to lose so many years? And to turn up looking like a beggar?” She shuddered. “I don’t know what to say, Raynor. Only that he’s skittish as a newborn colt. My Geoffrey had nerves of steel. This man is but a shadow of the one I married.”

  Geoffrey saw Raynor put a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “I will stand by you through this, Merryn. We shall see if the old Geoffrey is buried somewhere within this man. If not? If he has gone mad? Then we will deal with that. Together.”

  Raynor wrapped her in his arms. Nausea rose in Geoffrey as he watched his cousin embrace her as a lover would.

  “I won’t be long,” she promised. “I will bring clothes for him to wear and a cloak. Food, too, enough for both of you.”

  Geoffrey hurried back into the woods.

  Merryn’s heart raced as she journeyed back to the castle.

  Where could Geoffrey have been?

  She had mixed emotions. On one hand, her beloved husband had returned from the dead. In his arms for those brief moments, Merryn believed everything would return to normal. Yet, apart from their kiss, Geoffrey seemed to have changed so much. Whatever he had gone through, whether he remembered it or not, the experience had profoundly altered him.

  What would their life together be like with him so changed?

  She had so many things to tell him. First, he must know that his father had passed away nigh on three years ago. Geoffrey would now be lord of Kinwick.

  If he could assume such a duty.

  Merryn had made all the decisions regarding Kinwick and its lands and people since Lord Ferand’s death. She acted on behalf of Ancel, the heir to Kinwick, whom they’d thought held the title. She rendered the verdicts on Judgment Days. She decided what crops to plant. She ran the estate without question, allowing Lady Elia to manage the household since she was far too busy to consider domestic duties.

  Would Geoffrey be able to take over such a monumental task in his fragile state of mind?

  And first and foremost, she must consider the twins. How should she introduce them to a father they had always been told was dead? How would they respond to such news? Alys already feared him. How would Ancel react?

  It hit her then—the king must be told at once. All his plans for creating a union between her and Sir Symond Benedict must be scuttled. For how could she consider marriage with a man in the king’s guard when she already had a living husband?

  This worried her. Edward was far too volatile to take news such as this in stride. She must be delicate as she worded her missive to him, especially since she knew so little about the situation.

  Merryn waved to the gatekeeper and entered the outer bailey of Kinwick. She would gather food and clothing and get it to Geoffrey as soon as possible. Then she would return to the castle and write the most important letter of her life.

  “My lady?”

  She turned and saw Tilda coming toward her. “Yes?”

  “You have a visitor. He arrived an hour ago.”

  “A visitor?” The news baffled her. No one was scheduled to arrive at Kinwick until the
king and his court, but that was not until next month.

  “Yes, my lady. ’Tis Sir Symond Benedict. He’s awaiting you in the great hall.”

  Chapter 17

  Handling a suitor for her hand in marriage was the last thing Merryn wanted to deal with as she entered the great hall. She would have to determine a way to break the news to this knight that he no longer had a claim to press. Until Geoffrey returned to the keep and made his presence known, she would have to put off the king’s man.

  The room was empty except for their guest. She smoothed her skirts and tried to collect her thoughts.

  Sir Symond Benedict stood next to the hearth. He was as she remembered him, fair-skinned, with a thick beard and a head full of red hair.

  “Lady Merryn.” He bowed, his eyes meeting hers and then looking away. She remembered how shy he’d been on his last visit to Kinwick.

  “Sir Symond. I am surprised to find you at Kinwick. We were not expecting you until the king’s arrival in June.”

  He nodded, reluctance in his brown eyes. “The king sent me ahead. He wished for me . . . that is, for us . . . to spend some time together.” He shuffled uncomfortably, his eyes falling to the floor. “The king thought I might enjoy seeing the castle and lands and . . . getting to know you.”

  “I see. Are you hungry? Thirsty?” She didn’t know what else to say.

  “Your servants have already served me.”

  The silence between them stretched on.

  “We must prepare a room for you,” she proclaimed, glad to have an activity to focus on.

  “Your servant has readied one for me,” he shared. “But I have yet to see it.”

  “Ah, that is good.” She hesitated. “Have you come from very far?”

  He nodded. “I rode a good way.”

  “Then I insist that you rest this afternoon.”

  He looked startled. “Nay, my lady. I’m not one for being idle.”

  What was she supposed to do with him? She needed to gather food and clothing for Geoffrey and take it to him. She had no time to entertain a surprise visitor.

  Especially one that assumed he would soon marry her.