She supposed his mind protected him from whatever agonizing experience he’d suffered through by wiping away his memory.
She would deal with that. And she would tend to him when those memories came crashing back—for she knew they would. Whether today or in a sennight, or even a year from now, Geoffrey would be forced to live with and understand what had happened to him.
Any anger she’d felt dissipated. Her heart filled with determination to make things right between them.
Merryn allowed him to cut through as much of the filth as he could, occasionally rinsing him with clean water. She poured scented oil across his skin and then tenderly used the cloths to bathe him.
She sensed him holding his breath, her own heart quickened at their very nearness. But she did not want to rush him into anything.
Least of all, love play.
Next, she washed his hair, massaging his scalp with longing, hoping her fingers told the story of her deep affection. She found herself wanting to kiss every inch of him.
“I should like to shave you while the water has softened your beard,” she said, trying to gain control of her emotions.
He frowned. “I can do that myself.”
Merryn tapped her foot impatiently. “Geoffrey, your beard is quite thick. I can see much better than you.” She wrinkled her nose. “And trim your hair. It’s grown much too long to please me.”
He didn’t protest. Merryn brought the stool closer to the tub and gathered his razor. She had sharpened it once a week, hope beating in her breast each time she did so that one day her husband would come home and use it.
Lathering up his beard, Merryn held his chin steady with one hand as she dragged the razor across his skin. Geoffrey kept his eyes closed the entire time. She was glad. It would have distracted her if he watched. This way, he remained free of cuts from a slip of her nervous hand.
She finished and rinsed his face with the last of the clean water, then gently blotted it with a towel. He almost looked like the man she had married, only an older version.
“Now let me loose upon that hair,” she declared. A quarter-hour later, she had cut it to the length he always wore it. She ran a brush through the thick, dark waves.
Geoffrey finally opened his eyes.
Merryn rewarded his patience with a tender smile.
She passed him a small metal mirror.
“Go ahead,” she prodded. “You may praise my handiwork once you’ve seen yourself.”
He lifted the mirror, moving it around to glimpse all of him.
And for the first time since his return, Geoffrey de Montfort smiled.
Chapter 19
Geoffrey explored the bedchamber after Merryn left him alone. Studying his reflection in the mirror again, he saw how he’d aged during his imprisonment. He would never be the Geoffrey of old again.
Resting the mirror on the table, he resumed pacing. He paused at the bed and stroked the smooth sheets, then leaned down to inhale his wife’s scent on the pillows. The sweet smell of vanilla drove him half-mad during his bath.
Despite being almost strangers, he knew love still existed between them. He felt it in her touch each time her fingers brushed against his skin. He heard it in her voice. Thankful her anger had disappeared, Geoffrey knew it would return with his refusal to account for his whereabouts since his disappearance.
Geoffrey couldn’t blame her. If Merryn had vanished, he couldn’t guess how he would have survived a single day—yet alone, years spent without her.
He lifted her brush from a table and turned it in his hands, longing to run it through her long, chestnut hair. He returned the brush to its place.
Looking down at the black pants and hose she’d given him to wear, he smoothed the dark brown gypon and cotehardie. His old clothing proved loose on his frame, but to wear something familiar after so many years took him back in time. Geoffrey opened the chest where Merryn had pulled the clothes from. Items he’d worn in the past were neatly arranged inside.
Including what he’d worn on their wedding day.
He shook off the dark mood that threatened to overtake him. He must start living life one day at a time and appreciate his newly found freedom.
Yet, he had no idea how to behave when he met his children.
Merryn had left him alone to dress and said that she would return in an hour with Ancel and Alys. She seemed to sense he needed time to himself, though God knew he’d spent nearly every minute alone for many years.
Before she left, Merryn stressed to him that the twins were her chief concern. If he frightened them, she would escort them from the room with haste. She explained that his return would be challenging for them to accept since they’d always been told he was dead. Taking his hand, Merryn told him that he must be patient with the twins if they did not warm to him immediately.
The look in her eye let Geoffrey know of the fierce, protective love she had for their children. If it came down to making a choice, Merryn would push aside her love for her husband and keep her children safe.
Geoffrey understood that he was a stranger to his own children and wife. In truth, he was a stranger to himself.
Geoffrey took a few bites of the bread and cheese Merryn had brought up with his bath water. His thoughts returned to the precious moments soaking in the water’s warmth. Such small things mattered. One thing he hoped to teach his children—never take anything for granted—for it could be snatched from you in the blink of an eye.
He sat in the chair, strumming his fingers along his thigh, tapping his foot. He’d never been this nervous going into battle. But the thought of seeing his own flesh and blood nearly undid him. Geoffrey wiped away the tears with his sleeve and took a comforting sip of wine.
A rap at the door startled him. He sat up expectantly, smoothing his cotehardie again. The door opened and Merryn led the twins in by their hands. Ancel immediately pulled away and ran toward him, curiosity written across his face. Alys waited until Merryn shut the door and then guided her further into the room.
“Good morn to you,” Geoffrey addressed them.
The twins greeted him in return, each bowing and curtseying politely. A sense of wonder filled him as he studied them. His children, here and now, a miniature Merryn and Geoffrey, as they’d looked many years ago. No wonder his wife’s heart broke every day.
Merryn placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “Children, I have something to tell you that will be a surprise.”
“Is Cook making solteties?” Ancel asked, a hopeful look in his eye.
“She only does those for May Day,” Alys said. “She won’t make them again, would she, Mother?”
“No, my dears. No solteties for your sweet tooth.” Merryn paused. “This is a different kind of surprise. ’Tis one that involves . . . our guest.”
The twins looked back at him, puzzled. Geoffrey tried to put them at ease with a smile.
“We need to be introduced to our guest, Mother,” Alys chided, looking at him shyly but with interest.
Geoffrey realized his daughter didn’t know he was the man who had frightened her yesterday. He was grateful they would start their relationship in a better way.
“Our guest is not a true guest,” Merry said. “He was born and lived here at Kinwick for many years.”
The children looked from their mother back to him. Geoffrey nodded reassuringly.
“Is he a cousin of ours then, like Raynor?” Ancel asked. He looked solemnly at Geoffrey. “I am Ancel, lord of Kinwick, and defender of all here. ’Tis my sister, Alys, beside me. And who might you be, sir?”
Pride swelled in Geoffrey at his young son’s confidence. Then it hit him. He said he was lord of Kinwick.
His father was dead.
Geoffrey gripped the arms of the chair, his fingers tightening till he thought it might break.
Merryn stroked Ancel’s head. “This may be hard for you to understand, my boy, but you are no longer lord of Kinwick. ’Tis something for you to look forward to in yo
ur future.”
“Why not?” His large, hazel eyes showed his confusion.
“This is your father, Ancel. Alys. This is my husband. He is lord of Kinwick.”
Alys’ face scrunched up. She looked as if she would cry. “But Father is dead. He’s always been dead. Since we were born. You said he was in Heaven above, watching over us.”
Merryn put a comforting arm around the girl. “I know, my little love. We all thought so. But your father has come home to us.”
“Where has he been?” Ancel demanded angrily, looking back at Geoffrey. “Why has he not been here at Kinwick, Mother, taking care of us and our land and people?”
“He’s suffered a blow to his head, Ancel,” Merryn said. “He did not remember who he was for a very long time. But he does now. He has made his way back to us.”
Ancel shook his head in denial. “I don’t believe you!” he cried, his hands fisting at his side.
Geoffrey knew he must speak up before the boy lost control. “Ancel.” He used the tone his own father had when he wanted his son’s attention.
The boy stopped and looked up anxiously.
He reached out and took Ancel’s hand and then Alys’, pulling them closer. The feel of their tiny hands in his caused a wave of happiness to pour through him.
“I am your father,” he told them. “I grew up within these walls. I went to war for England’s glory then returned home and married your mother.” He glanced up at Merryn, whose mouth trembled. He looked into her eyes as he said, “I loved your mother from the first day I met her when we were children, even younger than you are now. And despite everything, I never stopped loving her.”
Geoffrey tore his eyes from hers and glanced back at his twins. “I know it’s hard to suddenly have a father, but I pray you will let me get to know you—for I already love you both with all my heart.”
Alys threw her arms about his neck. He held her tiny body against his, fighting the tears that came. He lifted her onto his knee and looked at his son. Ancel took a step toward him, and he embraced the boy tightly before placing him on the other knee. With but a few words, his children had accepted him.
He wished everyone at Kinwick could be as trusting.
They sat together, his arms about them, and began telling him things about themselves and their lives at Kinwick. Geoffrey did his best to take it all in, but his emotions soon overwhelmed him.
Merryn, so attuned to his mood, said, “We need to let your father rest a bit. He’s been unwell and we want him to heal quickly.”
Alys kissed his cheek and the twins scooted from his lap. His heart ached. He had missed so much of their childhood. Before he knew it, they would be leaving Kinwick to foster in other noblemen’s households. The thought brought deep regret.
Merryn knelt and took each child’s hand. “We will celebrate your father’s return with a feast tonight. All will know that their lord has returned.”
“Can we wear our best clothes, Mother?” Alys asked. “And I want to draw Father a picture.”
“I do, too,” Ancel chimed in. “I shall draw the castle. And my sword.”
Merryn kissed both their cheeks. “He will like that. Now run along to your room. Set out the clothes you will wear for our celebration. Draw your pictures. I will come see them shortly and we shall practice our letters together.” She rose and nudged them toward the door.
They gave him a last look, as if neither could believe he existed and then left the chamber.
The minute the door closed, Geoffrey’s head fell into his hands. Merryn came and put a hand on his shoulder.
“I am sorry I did not tell you about Ferand. I know that took you unaware. He passed three years ago after being ill for some time.”
He shook his head. “I know much has happened in my absence. I hope he did not die of a broken heart.”
Geoffrey rose. Without warning, fury raged within him. Hatred for Berold for holding him prisoner for so long. Anger toward Hardie for not standing up to his father and freeing him sooner. And finally, at himself for not finding a means of escape. He had missed so many years with Merryn. He never saw her belly round with their children. He missed out on their birth and first steps. He hated how unfair life had turned out.
Since he could not curse Berold aloud, Geoffrey swept his hand out, knocking cups and plates to the floor. Food and wine spilled everywhere. He tore the bedclothes from the bed. He grabbed the small mirror and flung it across the room.
Then the rage subsided, as quickly as it came. Geoffrey sank to the floor, not knowing how he would continue to live with such conflicting emotions.
He raised his head and saw his startled wife.
“I must apologize.” He stood. “I have not been around people in a long time. I fear I need time alone to try and understand myself and learn how I am to fit back into life at Kinwick.” He paused. “And with you.”
He took a step toward her. Merryn shrank against the wall. His outburst had terrified her. Geoffrey had to get away. He had to learn to be the man he once was. For her sake.
And his.
“I need time to think. I will go to the hunting lodge. I’ll leave at once.” He hesitated. “Does Mystery still live?”
She nodded. “Aye. I have him ridden regularly by a groom, but he’s had no other master.”
“Then I shall take him.”
Geoffrey approached her and took hold of her shaking hands. “I must mourn my father’s passing. Come to understand who I now am. Accept that I have missed much of my children’s lives. Rid myself of this anger that has possessed me and turned me into a raging lunatic.”
Geoffrey paused and stared into her eyes. “But most of all, I want to understand how to be the husband that you need, my love.” He pressed a fervent kiss against her knuckles. “Until then, I am no good to any of you.”
Chapter 20
Geoffrey strode from the room without a backward glance.
He’d abandoned her, again, after only being back a day.
Merryn wanted to celebrate his return, yet she didn’t know who this new man was. It angered her that he ran from her and the twins and his responsibilities. She had kept things going at Kinwick for a long time.
Ferand’s illness dragged on for months. All his duties and obligations were thrust onto her shoulders. Merryn learned to run the estate during her father-in-law’s decline and had kept it thriving over the years.
After his death, she held all in trust for Ancel. Merryn had already taught her son about Kinwick and how to supervise the land and people. He’d proven a quick learner. She knew he would be a good lord to the people when his time came.
Her biggest problem would be learning to trust her husband once again. If he returned a second time. At this point, Merryn couldn’t guess if he would.
Physically, he once again resembled the man she’d married, but he was no longer open and carefree. The Geoffrey she’d married radiated confidence. He’d always held a positive outlook no matter what task needed to be accomplished.
The new Geoffrey perceived everything about him as a threat and the people he should love as his enemies. Only when he visited briefly with Ancel and Alys had she glimpsed the sweetness that she’d loved about Geoffrey since they were children.
Merryn loved the familiar Geoffrey of old. It was hard to reconcile her emotions when his anger surfaced so quickly. Would she be able to give her heart to this stranger and build a life together, once again?
And yet, when she touched him, her blood sang in her veins. Her mind might have trouble accepting this new man, but her body told a different story.
Would Geoffrey trust her enough to caress her again as he had before? Could they recapture the spark between them?
Only time would tell.
Her anger died, leaving uncertainty behind. Merryn thought she should catch up with him in the stables. Offer to stock the lodge with provisions. But she didn’t want to make it any easier for him to be away from her and Kinwick.
/> She would give him a week. If he hadn’t returned by then, she would go to him.
The chamber door flew open. A weeping Elia stumbled in, a wild look in her eye. She ran to Merryn and clung to her.
“I saw him. I saw Geoffrey.” Her voice broke, thick with emotion.
Merryn stroked her mother-in-law’s back, trying to give her soothing words of comfort. She led her to a chair and wished she could offer her a cup of wine, but the remains of it now stained the floor after Geoffrey’s fit of temper.
“I met him in the hallway. I thought ’twas a ghost at first.” Her eyes widened. “Then he greeted me. Gave me a swift embrace. And told me he would return soon.”
Merryn took the older woman’s hand. “I can’t tell you much. Alys and I came upon him in the forest yesterday. I did not recognize him at first. He knew who he was but couldn’t tell me where he has been all this time. Raynor and I sneaked him into the castle late last night.”
Elia began to cry again. “He looked like my Geoffrey, but he seemed so distant.”
“I know.” Merryn squeezed her hand. “He cannot remember what happened to him. I fear he suffered a terrible blow to his head which has caused a huge gap in his memory. We must be patient with him.”
“Where is he off to?”
“He said he needs time alone. To adjust to being back. I had to tell him of Lord Ferand’s death. That he was a father to twins. ’Twas much for him to take in.” Merryn paused. “He will spend a few days at the hunting lodge.”
“The lodge! Why, I would think he would avoid that place.”
Merryn shrugged. “Mayhap being at the place he vanished from might nudge his memory in some way. Until then, we must grant him the peace and quiet he seeks.”
“But what do we tell everyone?”
“I will handle it, Elia.”
The older woman nodded. “You have been burdened by so much, my dear.”
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