The Age of Knights and Highlanders: A Series Starter Collection

by Kathryn Le Veque

  A loud crash sounded from the bedchamber. Merryn stumbled from the room blindly, a look of horror upon her delicate features.

  She knew.

  His gut told him that Hardie had spoken of his father’s wrongdoing. It stunned Geoffrey. If Hardie had been on his deathbed, Geoffrey could see him spilling the ugly secret, not wanting to go to God with such a heavy burden on his conscience.

  Yet Hardie had pulled through. His injuries weren’t life-threatening. So why had he shared the sordid story with Merryn?

  Once again, Geoffrey felt a kinship with the young boy who’d kept him company all those years, the boy who’d secretly defied his father. Mayhap the young earl would be a more honorable man, after all. Peace washed over him, knowing that Merryn had learned the truth. The oath to Hardie, which had caused a rift in his marriage, had vanished. Geoffrey would never keep a secret from Merryn again.

  “Geoffrey!”

  Merryn threw herself into his arms, clinging to him as she sobbed uncontrollably. Holding her close, he whispered soothing nonsense in her ear, hoping she would draw strength and solace in his arms.

  Sweeping her up, Geoffrey carried her to the nearest chair. He sat and cradled her in his lap, brushing the tears from her cheeks.

  When she finally calmed, Merryn gazed into his eyes. He saw the concern for him and held his palm to her face, brushing a thumb slowly across her full, lower lip.

  “Hardwin told me everything.”

  Geoffrey nodded, not sure if words could come.

  “Then it’s true?”

  He sighed. “I am sure he told you the truth.”

  The familiar, stubborn look appeared in her eyes. “I want to hear it from you, Geoffrey. All of it. I want to know if he spoke falsely of anything.”

  “Need I repeat it, my love?”

  “Aye,” she whispered. “I must hear it from your lips.”

  Geoffrey gathered his courage. Since Hardie had confessed to Merryn, it freed him to speak to her plainly.

  Settling back into the chair, he drew her head down to his chest. He didn’t know if he could look at her as he spoke.

  “It’s a long story, my love.”

  “I don’t care. I need to hear it.”

  Geoffrey explained what he had observed that day in France. How he had taken his concerns to the Black Prince and his advisers. How Barrett denied the charges even though proof of his treason was produced for all to see. Geoffrey recalled their trial by battle and his victory, which signaled Barrett’s death.

  “The Duke of Lancaster arrived with his troops to reinforce those of the Black Prince just before Barrett’s execution.”

  Merryn stirred in his arms. “I know Lord Berold fought with Lancaster.”

  “He did. Berold witnessed his son’s beheading.” Geoffrey paused, his mouth gone dry.

  “Hardwin told me his father confronted you after his son’s death.”

  “I will never forget his words.” His recollection almost overcame him. “Berold told me he would bring me to my knees. That I would long for a death which he would keep from me.” Geoffrey shuddered, caught back in time. “I tried to brush it off as the mad words of a grieving father.”

  “But he acted upon them,” Merryn said, her voice devoid of emotion. “At the hunting lodge.”

  “Aye.”

  Geoffrey stroked her hair gently. He couldn’t relive the time of horror and wanted to bring their conversation to a conclusion.

  “One of the earl’s soldiers aimed the shot which pinned me to the tree. He and another of Berold’s men freed me after you left for help. They brought me to Winterbourne. After they placed me in the dungeons, Berold killed them with his own hand. He did not want anyone to know where I was.”

  “Except for Hardwin,” Merryn said dully. “And he was only a boy.”

  Geoffrey nodded against her. “The earl wanted me to suffer as he had. He called Hardie home from where the boy fostered and told him of the blood feud between our families. Berold said when he died, Hardie would continue holding me prisoner till my own death, feeding me only enough to exist. I was to live in solitude and never be addressed by name.”

  Merryn sat up and faced him. “My God, Geoffrey! What a heinous act. How you must have suffered! I can’t begin to understand the evil in Lord Berold’s heart.”

  She broke away from him and stood. Pacing the room only increased her anger. Geoffrey knew better than to interrupt her. He would let the fury run its course.

  “The king must be told,” she demanded. “At once! And I want Winterbourne gone from under our roof. This instant!” A wild look appeared in her eye. “God in Heaven. Hardwin wanted our children to foster with him. Our children! By the Christ, I would never let my babes live under such wickedness. Never! I shall call in that favor he said he would gift me with. Ancel and Alys will never cross the threshold of Winterbourne. Ever, ever!”

  Geoffrey hated to see her so distressed. He rose and captured her in his arms.

  “Calm yourself, my love.”

  “I will not!” Her face flushed red with anger. “Hardwin allowed almost seven years of your life to be stolen from you. For years, we were torn apart. I did not know if you were alive or dead. Your children had no father. Nothing could ever replace that debt. Nothing Hardwin could ever do would make me forgive him.”

  Geoffrey shook her. “Merryn. Stop.”

  She whipped her head around and glared daggers at him.

  “Listen to me, my love. Please. I know you and the twins were wronged. I was, too.”

  Geoffrey drew her into the chair and knelt beside her. Merryn perched on the edge, looking as if she might bolt from it at any moment.

  “Berold committed these sins against us. Berold. Hardie was a boy. An innocent boy. Hardie defied his father. He wasn’t supposed to enter the dungeons again until the earl perished, then he was to take up the task of keeping me in that living death. He chose not do that.”

  Merryn frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Apparently, Hardie had not told her all of the truth. “Hardie braved visiting me several times a week without his father’s knowledge. Bringing me extra food and blankets. We had many talks over the years. If not for Hardie, I might have gone mad.”

  “But he could have freed you,” Merryn whispered.

  Geoffrey looked knowingly at her. “In truth? If Hardie released me, how would I have been smuggled away from Winterbourne? And if by some miracle he did help me escape and I returned to Kinwick, what would have happened to Hardie? You know Berold to be a cruel man. Hardie was the only soul who knew I endured in Winterbourne’s dungeons. I would not put it past the old man to kill his son in a rage once he learned I was missing from that cell.”

  Geoffrey paused. “What Berold did to me was inhumane. But it’s over, my love. Hardie chose to free me. I would still be a prisoner if not for his actions. He did have me swear an oath never to reveal where I had been and what his father had done to me. Whether Hardie was ashamed of his father’s actions or thought to protect his family’s name?” Geoffrey shrugged. “That’s beside the point. Hardie. Freed. Me,” he emphasized.

  “And you came back to me.” Merryn slid from the chair and held fast to him for some minutes.

  Geoffrey rocked her and said, “Hardie is innocent in the matter. Johamma is blameless, too. I doubt he revealed to her what was done to me.” He paused. “And the twins are to foster in King Edward’s household. He took a liking to them and he was going to persuade Hardie to grant him the privilege of having them come to court. Edward planned to do so at the feast after the jousting. I have every faith that the king will keep his word.”

  Merryn sniffed. “But London is so far away. And if it’s true that Hardie saved you, mayhap I have judged him too harshly.”

  “I believe Hardie wants to be a better man than his father ever dreamt of being. Having Ancel and Alys foster with him and Johamma could be his way of making up for the sins of the past. He’s acknowledged the wrongs done t
o both of us. Mayhap we should give him a chance.” Geoffrey smiled at her. “If we could convince the king to change his mind, it would allow the twins to be close to us. We could see them often if they fostered next to Kinwick.”

  He saw her contemplate his words. Finally, she spoke. “We have much to consider and shouldn’t be hasty. Let us think upon things, Geoffrey. No decision is required now.”

  “I agree.” He brought his lips to hers. The kiss held the promise that he would do whatever it took to protect his family.

  “Hardie and Johamma will be gone soon,” Merryn said after many minutes. “We will have our solar back.” She grinned. “And our own bed.”

  “And all the time in the world,” he said, catching the twinkle in her eye. “Let me return you to your room, my lady. You look as if you could use some rest. I will stay with Hardie tonight.”

  She linked her arm through his. They traveled across the hall and paused in front of his mother’s door. Merryn wound her arms about his waist, reluctant for them to part.

  “Plan on getting plenty of rest tonight,” Geoffrey advised her. “And do not overtax yourself tomorrow. Come evening, I plan to love you all night long and show you how much you mean to me.”

  Merryn smiled at him. “You are the love of my life, Geoffrey de Montfort.”

  She gave him a sweet, lingering kiss which he wished could go on forever. Instead, he opened the chamber door and escorted her inside. His mother lay asleep on the bed. Geoffrey kissed his wife once more and retreated to the door.

  Merryn blew him a kiss as he stepped into the corridor. He eased the door shut and turned.

  A huge fist came from nowhere and smashed into his face.

  Chapter 32

  Geoffrey fought to open his eyes as pain exploded along his temple and nose. He touched his face gingerly. Sticky blood met his fingers. Knowing what had to be done, he viciously wrenched his nose back into place before he could change his mind. A loud crunch sounded with the twist, but immediate relief came. He moved his hand to his temple and located the goose egg that caused the pounding there.

  Searching his memory, he tried to recall the last thing that occurred. He had spoken with Merryn about Berold’s treachery. Left her. Then someone had attacked him. The first blow had landed square in the nose, causing him to stagger off-balance. Another few rained down upon him.

  Then a blank.

  He concentrated and forced his eyelids open. The ache in his head gnawed hungrily at him, but he needed to see where he was and who had assaulted him. A flickering torchlight caught his eye, but something obstructed his view.

  “No!”

  A wall of iron bars stood before him. He was in a dungeon.

  Again.

  Geoffrey fought the rising hysteria to scream. He pushed against the dirt he lay upon and rose unsteadily to his feet, using those very bars to support himself.

  “So, you finally awaken. I did not hit you that hard, de Montfort. You have become a weakling. Worse than an old man. But then again, being locked away for as long as you were might have broken lesser men.”

  Squinting, he saw the outline of a man leaning against the opposite wall, standing just below the torch. His face lay in the shadows, but Geoffrey recognized the voice.

  Symond Benedict.

  The royal guardsman strolled forward, remaining just beyond his reach. The knight studied his prisoner, his lips pursed in thought.

  Geoffrey remained silent. He would not beg this man for his freedom.

  Symond crossed burly arms over his chest. “I heard everything, you know. Winterbourne unburdened himself to Lady Merryn. Blubbered like a babe, he did. I stood guard in the shadows as the king charged me to do. And I heard of the wicked earl and the punishment he meted out to the man who destroyed his son.”

  The knight smirked. “’Twas quite an entertaining tale. The young earl promised he would right things, but you and I know that that could never occur. A man doesn’t experience what you did and come out the same man. You’ll never again be the man Merryn Mantel fell in love with.”

  Hearing his wife’s name uttered by this bastard caused Geoffrey grip to tighten on the bars. He spit on the soldier, not caring if this action antagonized his captor.

  Benedict laughed and wiped away the spittle. “And then I was treated to the touching conversation you held with your wife in the solar. My, how you do love the lady—but you do not deserve her.”

  Benedict’s lips curled into a snarl. “The likes of you had everything handed to him. Your father was a titled nobleman and you gained the title simply by being his first-born male. Me? I’ve had to work for everything. I rose through the ranks. The king recognized my skills in warfare. He knighted me on the battlefield. I have served him loyally for many years.”

  He leaned closer. “Now I want everything he promised me. It’s time I claim my reward.”

  Geoffrey finally spoke. “So you will leave me here to rot and claim the bounty you think you deserve.”

  A harsh laugh burst from the knight. “You understand your predicament, de Montfort. Desperate men will do just about anything to gain what they want.”

  Without warning, Benedict slammed a fist against the bars. “The Lady Merryn was mine. Mine! The king vowed she would belong to no other. The most beautiful, seductive lady in the land. He promised me her hand in marriage—and the castle and land at Kinwick. Not the title of earl, mind you. Your little brat was to retain that. But I will ship off those damned twins to foster as far away as possible. I will couple with my new wife a thousand times till she births many children that carry my Benedict blood.”

  Benedict continued to antagonize. “And when an accident happens to wee little Ancel?” He shrugged. “Then the king will have no choice but to give me the title and my sons will reign supreme once I am gone.”

  Fear for Ancel’s well-being coursed through Geoffrey. He struck without warning, landing a hard punch. Benedict jumped back, cradling his jaw in his hand.

  “Merryn—and Kinwick—will be mine now,” Benedict gloated. “Just as it was supposed to be before you showed your ugly face again. You appeared as a ghost from the past, barely flesh and blood, and ruined all my plans.”

  The knight gave him an eerie smile. “This time there will be no feeding you. You will die on your own estate. Lady Merryn will believe you’ve run away, your shame so great at her having learned the truth of those missing years. Her cowardly husband—the man too weak to fight Lord Berold. The timid man who could not convince a young, impressionable boy to release him from his prison so he could return to his lovely wife of a single day and night. This time you will die, de Montfort, as you should have all those years ago. And I will be the one to comfort Lady Merryn in her time of sorrow.”

  Benedict chuckled and began to retreat. He called over his shoulder, “I can’t say which will last longer. The torch burning yonder—or you.” He bowed. “A good eve to you, my lord. I look forward to returning and taking command over all of Kinwick. Especially the prize of my wife.”

  Geoffrey roared in despair, but Edward’s wicked knight kept walking.

  Merryn rose, careful not to disturb Elia’s sleep. Her mother-in-law had been restless throughout the night. Merryn dressed and went to check on Hardie. She still had mixed feelings about their neighbor after his ghastly admission yesterday, but she understood why Geoffrey thought Hardie should be forgiven.

  As she entered the room, her skirts brushed against Sir Alard, standing duty near the door. He greeted her with a nod and brought a finger to his lips. Merryn looked over at the bed. Johamma lay curled next to her husband, both sound asleep.

  It hit her as a bolt of lightning, come from nowhere. Geoffrey was right. She had been wrong to blame a boy, one raised and, most likely, terrorized by a brutal father. Hardie had dared to go against Lord Berold’s command to visit Geoffrey throughout his long imprisonment. The boy offered physical comforts and his own company, never knowing if he might be found out and severely pun
ished.

  More importantly, Hardie released Geoffrey once Berold was in the ground. The nobleman was trying his best to correct the mistakes of the past. Not ones of his making, but those which had nearly ruined Geoffrey’s life. Hardie had married a sweet girl. He’d offered to train the twins so they would be in close proximity to Kinwick. Hardie aimed to make up for the time Geoffrey had been separated from them. Many children fostered hundreds of miles from their homes. Some never returned once they left, going into service as knights or marrying far from their loved ones.

  Merryn dug deeply into her heart and found she could forgive Hardie, though in truth, she had nothing to forgive. Berold had been the sinner and abuser, and he had answered for his actions when he met his Maker. She only hoped Berold burned in agony in the eternal fires of damnation after what he had done to Geoffrey.

  Her next mission would be to convince the king that the twins should foster closer to home. Merryn knew Edward had a soft spot for her. She wasn’t above playing upon his sympathies where her family was concerned.

  She nodded at Sir Alard as she left the bedchamber and met Hobard entering the solar.

  “I wanted to check on the earl once more before we depart, but I feel my job is done.”

  “He and Lady Johamma are sleeping. Mayhap you can look in on him after breaking your fast?”

  Hobard agreed and accompanied her to mass and then into the great hall to dine. Merryn excused herself in order to take Lady Elia something to eat in her chamber. The royal visit had taxed everyone’s nerves and the noblewoman seemed to find it more stressful than most.

  She arrived to find her mother-in-law sitting up in bed but looking flushed. Merryn felt her brow and thought she might have a slight fever.

  “I think not,” Elia said. “I am simply tired and hot. You know I am older than the king and queen. Not by much, but all the same, their time at Kinwick wore upon me.”

  “Then let me sit with you a few minutes,” Merryn said. “I’ve brought some ale and bread and a small wedge of cheese.”