Medieval Ever After (51 page)

THE SAVAGE CURTAIN

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Norham Castle, Northumberland

The night was
still, dark and peaceful. The only sounds were those of night insects, alive in their nocturnal world as they searched for a meal. Those peaceful and delicious sounds wafted into a dark chamber nestled deep in Norham’s massive keep, lit only by two fat tapers and a glowing fire.

Joselyn sat next to the bed, mending her husband’s torn tunic because it was the only clothing he had at the moment. Stephen was sleeping the sleep of the dead in a fat and comfortable bed, snoring softly. But he moved in his sleep, causing himself pain, and awoke with a groan. Joselyn’s mending fell into her lap as she focused on him.

“Stephen?” she asked softly, touching his cheek. “Are you all right, my angel?”

Stephen’s cornflower blue eyes rolled open. He grunted again, softly, as he oriented himself. Then he looked at his wife, her ethereal beauty shining as the firelight illuminated her features, and smiled.

“I am fine so long as you are with me,” he whispered. “But I feel as if I have been asleep for days. What time is it?

Joselyn set her mending on the table. While she was there, she collected a cup and poured a measure of wine into it. She took it back to her husband.

“It is very late,” she said, helping him lift his head and putting the cup to his lips. “And you have, in fact, been asleep for days. Off and on for three days. How do you feel?”

“As if I have been run over by an ale wagon,” he grumbled, wiping an exhausted hand over his face. He looked around the room as much as his stiff neck would allow. “Where are we?”

Joselyn smiled faintly. “Do you not remember?”

Stephen shook his head. “I remember fleeing Berwick but little after that. Why? Where are we?”

“Norham Castle,” she told him. “Tate felt that you were too injured to ride straight to Forestburn, so he stopped here and asked for assistance from the garrison commander who is loyal to Edward. The castle physic splinted your right wrist, wrapped your ribs, and we have been here ever since. The commander said we could stay as long as needed.”

Stephen was beginning to vaguely recall their arrival. “Where are Kenneth and Tate?”

“Tate returned to Forestburn but Kenneth has remained here,” she replied. “The man is as loyal as a dog. He would not leave you no matter what.”

Stephen sighed faintly. “He risked his life to rescue me from Berwick,” he suddenly lifted an eyebrow at her. “Speaking of risk, where are Roman and Cade?”

Joselyn smiled faintly. “Where do you think?” her eyes twinkled. “They are convinced that they single-handedly rescued you from Berwick and would not leave either, not even when Tate threatened them. So he left them here with Kenneth. The only reason Tate went home was to soothe Toby, who is undoubtedly furious and worried over Roman’s disappearance. He said he had to go home and ease her mind so that Roman would live to see another year.”

Stephen smiled faintly, reaching out to take her hand. She clutched it tightly as they grinned at each other.

“Cade is quite a boy,” he said softly. “I will be proud to call him my son.”

“He seems very fond of you as well,” she murmured, kissing his good hand. “Oh, Stephen, it is so good to have you back. Those weeks when we were separated were the worst of my life.”

“And of mine,” he gave a tug and pulled her onto the bed with him, wrapping his big arms around her, reacquainting himself with the feel of her. “I was truthfully not sure if I would ever see you again. God has been merciful.”

She lay down against him, careful not to hurt his ribs. But the moment she did so, the tears came. Stephen wrapped her up tightly in his powerful embrace, relishing the feel of her against him. He kissed her dark head.

“Why the tears, sweetheart?” he asked softly. “All is well now. I will heal and we will welcome our son come the spring. There is a good deal to be grateful over.”

She nodded, wiping at her nose. “I know,” she whispered. “But I came so close to losing you. I do not ever want to feel that fear again, Stephen. It will surely kill me.”

He kissed her again. “Do not trouble yourself,” he said softly. “As you can see, we have a myriad of friends and family that will always ride to my aid. Tate, Ken, and those two foolish young lads who risked their necks to help me will be around. And let us not forget your cousin, either. He was the greatest God-send of all.”

She smiled, wiping the tears from her temples. “Kynan cannot decide if he is a traitor to the Scots now or simply loyal to his family,” she said. “He is, in fact, discussing that very thing with my father down in the hall.”

Stephen’s smile faded. “Alexander is here?”

Joselyn nodded, lifting her head to look at him. “Tate sent for him. He had originally hoped that my father might convince those at Berwick to release you, but Kenneth and Kynan took care of your release before my father could arrive. So he is down in the hall with Kenneth and Kynan. Tate told him to wait here until you decide what’s to be done with him.”

Stephen stared at his wife. Her sweet, beautiful face, her luscious pale blue eyes. She was so exquisite that he was sure he was gazing upon God’s most precious creation. But he was also well aware that the very reason for the woman’s horrific past was seated in the hall below him. Tate had known, eventually, that Stephen would have to confront Alexander for his sins. As Joselyn’s husband, it was his right. But gazing into his wife’s anxious face, he was not sure any of that was necessary any longer. He had Joselyn and the most wonderful life he could have ever imagined. He was not sure that condemning a sick old man would make it any better. In fact, he was sure it would not.

“What do you want me to do with him?” he asked his wife.

Joselyn appeared thoughtful. She watched Stephen’s big fingers play with the ends of her dark hair, her mind lost in thought. It was clear that she was both uncomfortable and surprised by the question.

“He is my father, after all,” she said softly.

“I realize that.”

“What he did… well, it was long ago. I have long since forgiven him.”

Stephen watched her face, the emotions rippling across her brow. “So I will repeat my question; what do you want me to do with him?”

After a moment, she looked up at him. “Send him home, Stephen. Send him back to Allanton and let that be the end of it.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Aye,” she reached out, stroking his scruffy cheek. “I have you and we have a wonderful life together. I am so blessed that I can hardly believe my fortune. Let no man, not even my father, cast a shadow upon that. Send him home with my forgiveness and with yours. Let that be the end of it.”

He kissed her hand as it moved near his mouth. But it was not good enough for him so he pulled her down to him, sweetly kissing her lips.

“With all of the love I have in my heart for you, I did not think it possible that I could feel more, but I do,” he conceded, suckling her lower lip gently. “You are a remarkable and gracious woman, Lady Pembury, and I am deeply proud to be your husband.”

She smiled faintly, her hands on his face. “Kenneth said that if I ever grow weary of you, then he will gladly take your place.”

Stephen’s eyebrows flew up. “Is that so?” he grumbled, watching her giggle. He tried to throw the covers off but his ribs made it difficult to move quickly. “Where is he? I will thrash him soundly.”

She laughed at him, pushing him back on the bed. “Not to worry, husband,” she straddled him, pinning his arms. “I will never grow weary of you, I swear it. Kenneth will have to find another wife.”

He gazed up at her, a smile on his lips, once again reflecting on how more rich his life was. He was happier, more content, than he had ever been. The journey to get to this point had been well worth every twist and every turn. His hands came up, even the bandaged one, and cupped her face gently.

“I love you, Lady Pembury,” he pulled her down to his seeking lips. “With all that I am, I love you.”

Joselyn couldn’t even answer him. Her touch said everything he needed to know.

THE SAVAGE CURTAIN

EPILOGUE

December 1337 A.D.

Bayhall Castle, Pembury, England

Stephen was a
man with his hands full. With all of the battles in all of England that he had fought, there was no battle more harrowing than the one he had on his hands at the moment.

It all started when he had turned his back on his toddlers for a moment to relay the command to open the great iron portcullis of his ancestral home, Bayhall. It was now his seat as Baron Pembury, hereditary home of the Culpepper family, Stephen’s family name. His attention could not have been diverted more than a few seconds, something he would be swearing to his wife at some point, but in that time his children ran amuck. When he turned around, both babies had found a section of melted snow that had made muddy soup and had gleefully stepped into it.

Stephen tried to move swiftly to pick the children up before they muddied their clean clothes, but he was not fast enough. His three and a half year old son, Remington, was the leader of the Pembury rebels. He had his father’s size, the Pembury cornflower blue eyes, and a natural air of command even at his tiny age. Rem was the first one into mischief and had little sense of making the wrong decision. If he wanted to do it, it must therefore be right. Stephen already had his hands full with him, adoring his son more than words could express.

Following right behind him was his younger sister by thirteen months, the Lady Ashton. A splendidly gorgeous child in the spitting image of her mother, she was, Stephen was sure, the sweetest thing to have ever walked the earth. She was also a very vocal child, much more than her older brother, and spoke in complete sentences with intelligence beyond her years. Stephen was positive he could not have been more in love with her than he already was. Almost more than anyone else, his world revolved around lovely little Ashton and her pale blue eyes.

But she was also a troublemaker like her brother and stomped around in the muddy water even as Stephen swooped down to pick her up. Rem was not thrilled with being pulled out of the mud and screamed like a holy terror as Stephen hauled him and his sister away. With one screaming toddler under each arm, Stephen moved quickly to the keep of Bayhall, hoping to get them inside and cleaned up before their mother discovered that he had let them become filthy just as Christmas guests were arriving.