His scowl disappeared and an instant later he smiled. “Come here,” he said softly. “I can’t come to you.”
Joy surged through her as she lay down beside him and nestled close. “I was afraid you’d be much angrier.”
“I would be, except for one circumstance.”
“What circumstance?”
His lips brushed her cheek. “It seems I picked up a few memories of my own.”
She stiffened. “What?”
“You’ve lived a most innocuous life compared to my own, but there are still a few things I don’t think you’d want anyone to know.”
“For instance?” she asked warily.
“Mostly feelings. What a lusty woman you are, Brynn.” He chuckled. “For instance, about that incident in Zenvar. I’d wager your response was not so much shock as fascination.”
“That’s not true. I was most—” She stopped and then admitted reluctantly. “Envious.”
“Envy is a terrible sin. When I gain more strength, we will have to remedy it.”
“What other memories did you find—No, I won’t ask. It’s best we don’t discuss this.”
“Safer, at least.”
“It’s most disconcerting.” She thought about it. “But I’m glad you shared this with me. I was feeling very guilty.”
“That damnable burden of guilt again. We’ll have to remedy that too. I refuse to have a camel for a wife.”
“They truly are most strange-looking creatures.” She added tartly, “And after seeing them through your eyes, I don’t appreciate being compared to such an ugly beast.”
He groaned.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean—I know I said we were not to speak of—”
“Shh.” He drew her closer. “It is bound to happen.”
“You truly believe me?”
“How could I help it?” he said gruffly. “I cannot say I believe in magic, but I believe in you. You are no witch.” His lips brushed her temple. “But if there is magic in this world, it is you, Brynn.”
She buried her face in his chest, fighting tears, unable to speak. She was no longer alone. She would never be alone again. He had stepped into the circle.
April 10, 1067
Gwynthal
“Brynn!” Gage called impatiently as he entered the hall. “Where in Hades are you?”
“Here!” Brynn marched down the steps. “Though why I should answer to such rudeness I don’t—”
“They’re here!” He lifted her by the waist and swung her around in a circle. “I saw LeFont coming down the trail. They’re only a few miles away. Let’s go meet them.”
They were there. A wild mixture of emotions flooded Brynn. She had known this moment would come, had thought she was prepared for it. Now she wanted only to run and hide. She pulled away and forced a smile. “You go on. I’ll run and tell Adwen and Alice.”
He had started to leave but he stopped and whirled to face her. “What’s wrong?”
She should have known he would sense her distress even in his own excitement. Since their joining he had become exquisitely sensitive to her every emotion. Yet how could she explain when she was so confused herself? “It’s a new—everything will be different.”
He searched her expression. “We should have talked about this before.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her up the stairs. “Come on.”
“But you wished to go and meet—”
“I can wait.” He pulled her down the corridor, into the council chamber, and slammed the door. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
She looked wistfully around the chamber. They had spent so many happy hours there this winter. Peaceful, lazy days, passionate, languid nights. All gone. Well, what had she expected? Even if Malik and LeFont had not arrived, this magical period would have soon ended. Of late, she had noticed Gage’s restlessness increasing in pace with his return to health. He was not a man who would long linger in Eden. “I will miss this place when we go.”
“So will I.” He smiled. “Therefore, I think we must plan to return frequently.”
Her eyes widened. “Truly?”
“Why are you so surprised? It’s a shame to let a fine castle like this go uninhabited. Of course, we will have to set LeFont to making repairs.”
“He won’t be pleased with the task.” She launched herself into his arms and buried her face in his chest. “I will go with you wherever you wish. We need not—I want you to be happy.”
“Then don’t try to make me miserable. You know I would not be content if you were yearning for this place.” He cradled her face in his hands and looked down at her with a rueful smile. “You’ve made sure I feel at least a portion of what you feel on every subject.”
“I did not mean to intrude. I couldn’t help it.” She lifted her chin. “Would you rather have died? I did what I had to do to bring you back.” She lifted her chin. “And it’s just as bad for me. Some of your memories aren’t at all good, and now they’re my memories. If I didn’t force myself to stop and think, sometimes I would act in as barbaric a fashion as you.”
“I cannot imagine that circumstance.” He brushed his lips across her brow. “But I can see I must guard myself from your wrath.”
“Very wise.” She blinked back the tears and laid her head on his chest. “It’s about time you learned you must be wary of me. It’s fortunate for you that I love you.”
“I cannot be all you want of me, Brynn,” he said in a low voice. “I’m not like your Hevald, who was content to stay here forever. There will always be somewhere I want to see, something I want to do. If you’ll be honest with yourself, you’ll admit that you wouldn’t be content with staying here either. You’ve been restless yourself of late.”
“All my life I’ve wanted to return here,” she protested. “Why should I have changed?”
“I can’t answer that for you. You’ll have to tell me.”
She thought about it. “I have a gift and Gwynthal gives me few chances to use it. The villagers are very healthy and there are no wars here.”
“True. It’s not every day you’ll run across a soldier who is stupid enough to get himself stabbed by an assassin in this peaceful garden.”
“And I’ve been wondering if the reason my mother was willing to leave the island and follow my father was that she felt that same lack.”
“It’s possible.” He stroked her hair. “No place is perfect. There will always be something missing that we find somewhere else. But we have the good fortune to be complete in ourselves wherever we are.”
Good fortune. Wonderful fortune. She laughed shakily. “Heavens, you’re clever. It’s not enough that you have me agreeing to leave Gwynthal, but now you’d have me believe it’s my own idea.”
His smile held a hint of mischief. “Why not? A good barter is one in which all sides believe they’ve won. I refuse to be wed to a martyr.” He smile faded. “I want you to be happy, Brynn. What can I do to make it right with you? Would you like our first child to be born here on Gwynthal?”
She looked up at the tapestry, at Hevald, whose wife had never borne him a child. She smiled. “I think we would all like that very much indeed.”
A short time later Gage, Brynn, Alice, and Adwen met the column of soldiers as they rode into the courtyard.
Malik was back! Bronze and smiling and handsome as a God. Adwen tried not to let her eagerness show in her expression.
Malik’s broad smile lit his face as he caught sight of Gage. “You look well, my friend. Much more robust than when I left this place.”
“What news of William?”
“He was crowned King of England on Christmas Day and has since been busily trying to give away all his new land to his followers. If you wish aught from him, I wouldn’t linger long in the asking.”
“I won’t. I plan to set sail next week for England. That should give us ample time to gather provisions for the journey.”
Malik turned to Adwen. “And how are you, my lad
y? In good health, I trust.”
“Good enough.” Her voice was uneven and she tried to steady it. “And you?”
“I could not be better than I am at this moment.” His expression lit with mischief. “Well, perhaps a little better, but we will go into that later.”
She had to stop staring at him. “You grew your beard back.”
“I decided to take pity on those less comely than myself.”
Sweet heaven, she had missed him. There was no one like him. No one in the world as full of humor and whimsy and gentleness; no one as mad and certainly no one who made her feel the need to reach out and touch, hold. “I’m sure we all are grateful for your kindness.”
“Oh, I was not speaking of you. You’re almost as beautiful as I am.”
She laughed. “I thank you. It makes me feel much—”
“Adwen, come quick!”
Adwen turned to see Brynn hurrying across the courtyard toward Alice, who was being supported by LeFont. The captain’s face was even more pale than Alice’s.
Adwen muttered an exclamation and started across the courtyard.
“What is it?” Malik asked.
“If you had brains as well as comeliness, you would know,” Adwen tossed over her shoulder. “The excitement was too much for her. She’s going to have her babe.”
Alice’s daughter was born the following afternoon, after a nightmare of labor. Several times Adwen thought Alice was going to die or lose the baby. She did neither, and the child came into the world big, healthy, and yelling lustily.
“Is she not beautiful?” Brynn asked softly as she looked down at the infant cradled in Alice’s arms. “It’s always such a miracle.…”
“I think I … love … her,” Alice said wonderingly as she touched the baby’s cheek with a careful finger. “Isn’t that strange? All the while I carried her I felt no affection. I thought after she was born I would have an actual dislike for her. I knew I had to do my duty by her, but I didn’t think … I would care.”
“But that’s part of the miracle,” Brynn said. “Perhaps the best part.”
“Yes.” Alice smiled luminously before shifting her gaze to Adwen. “I wonder if … would you mind? I must have a name for her. I’d like to call her Adwen.”
Adwen looked at her, stunned. “You wish to name her after me?”
“It’s a lovely name and you’re my friend. If you don’t mind—” She stopped, her eagerness fading as a sudden thought occurred to her. “Unless you don’t wish your husband’s bastard to bear your name.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Adwen blinked back the tears. “I was only surprised. I would be honored for your child to bear my name.” She swallowed and quickly turned away. “And now I think I’ll leave you to rest. I know you must be weary unto—”
She almost ran from the room. She stopped outside the door and leaned against the wall as the tears rained down her face. She should go back into the room; Brynn might need her. Not yet. In a moment she would be strong enough to—
“May I help?” Malik asked. He sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning back against the wall.
“How long have you been here?”
“Only since this morning. I thought you would be too busy to need me until after the babe was born. How is Alice?”
“Tired, happy.” She swallowed. “Very happy. She’s going to name the child after me. Isn’t that kind of her?”
“Very kind.” He rose to his feet. “And it should not make you weep.”
“It doesn’t—it’s only—the little girl is so beautiful.” Adwen wiped her eyes on the backs of her hands. “It made me sad. I’m very selfish. I wanted the miracle to be mine.”
Malik took her in his arms. “Perhaps someday there will be a miracle for you.”
She shook her head. “Alice knows there’s no chance of that happening. That’s why she gave the child my name. She wanted me not to feel … it was very kind of her.”
“You break my heart,” he said hoarsely. “Marry me, Adwen. Let me try to give you miracles.”
She felt a wild burst of pain and pushed him away from her. “I’m not that selfish. I would not saddle you with a barren woman.”
“You are blind. How many times must I tell you that I would not blame—”
“You would!”
She had to get away. She turned and ran down the long hall toward the staircase.
“Adwen!”
He was following her, passing her. He stood on the top step, barring her path.
“Get out of my way!”
“Never again.” He stared down into her eyes. “Listen to me. I would treasure your child above all things, but there are other miracles in this world. There is laughter and passion and growing old together. There is living day after day with a wife who will love and care for my needs as I will for hers. These are all miracles and I will not be cheated of them. You will marry me, Adwen.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“And what will you do if I refuse?” she said defiantly.
He tilted his head as if considering the matter. “Toss myself down these stairs?”
Her eyes widened as she looked at the stone floor thirty feet below. “What?”
“If you refuse, my life will be over. What else is left for me?”
“You jest.”
“You thought I jested about posting myself on your doorstep at Selkirk.”
And about scarring his face with the burning twig. “You would not do it,” she whispered.
“Do you dare chance it?”
“No.” The tears were suddenly falling again. “No, you madman. I will wed you.” She flew into his arms and held him with all her strength. “But you must not regret it. Promise me that you won’t regret it later.”
“Of course I won’t regret it.” He held her with loving tenderness as he whispered, “You have my promise, Adwen. No regrets and every miracle imaginable.”
“Possible,” she amended.
He smiled. “You do not yet know your husband.”
Epilogue
May 6, 1068
Gwynthal
“I don’t know where to put the council table,” Brynn said with a frown. “After we bring in the bed, there will be no room for it.”
“Throw it out in the stable,” Gage said. “It’s just a heap of broken rubbish.”
“Hevald doesn’t think so.” Brynn frowned at him. “And neither do I. Don’t be disrespectful.”
He bowed mockingly. “My apologies to both you and Hevald.”
“I’ll forgive you when you find a place for the table.”
He sighed. “What about the bedchamber down the hall? If that won’t be too distant for your Hevald.”
“I guess it will have to do.”
“You know this is nonsense, of course,” Gage said. “There are many bedchambers in this castle. Why have the child in this chamber?”
“Because it is fitting.” She turned to the two soldiers waiting patiently by the door. “Take those pieces to the bedchamber down the hall.” She watched them remove the table and then stood before Hevald’s tapestry. “And because I want to have your son here in this room.”
“It may be a daughter.” He moved across the room to stand behind her. He slid his arms around her, his hands gently caressing her swollen belly. “We won’t know for another two months.”
“It will be a son. I feel it.” She smiled at him over her shoulder. “But would you be disappointed if it’s a girl?”
He chuckled. “A dangerous question and one I’d be a fool to answer.”
“Would you?”
“I would love her as I do her mother.”
“Tell me.”
He pretended to think. “Not if you let me teach her swordplay and archery and—”
“I will not!”
“I fear it will be necessary,” he teased. “A man needs a strong ally by his side when he goes into battle.”
Brynn’s laughter faded. “Will
you have to go into battle? Is William going to try to take Redfern away from Malik and Adwen?”
“There’s always that possibility. He wasn’t pleased when I gave Redfern to Malik. The idea of a Saracen holding such a rich plum was not at all popular with his barons.”
“You had no use for it when you had Gwynthal and Bellerieve. William gave it to you and it was yours to do with as you wished.”
“As long as I keep it mine.”
“Adwen was wife of the Saxon who held title to it. Surely that means something.”
“Nothing.” He frowned. “I’d feel better if Malik and Adwen came back from the East and took possession. LeFont’s presence there is a formidable deterrent, but the matter needs to be settled. Once the confrontation is over, we’ll have no more trouble.”
“He says the Eastern physicians know many things that we do not,” Brynn said. “He’s searching for a miracle for Adwen.”
“Pray God he finds it.”
“I think he will. Happiness itself is a powerful medicine, and I’ve never seen Adwen so happy.” Almost as happy as she was, Brynn thought. No, no one could approach that splendor. “After our babe is born, I’d like to go to them. I want to be with Adwen when she needs me.”
“I believe you’re beginning to like moving from place to place.”
“It’s possible.” She had found William’s court interesting, but she would not be able to bear it for long periods. Bellerieve, on the other hand, was almost as beautiful as Gwynthal, yet so steeped in worldliness that she would constantly be challenged to use her gift. “As long as I can return to Gwynthal.”
“Are we not here?” His lips brushed her ear. “I keep my promises, Brynn.”
“Yes, you do.” She looked up at the tapestry. Was Hevald smiling at her? It was probably a trick of the light or imagination; the entire world seemed to be smiling these days. “I’ve been thinking. I think we should name our son after him.”
“If it is a son.”
“I told you he would be. Trust me. Would it be all right with you if we give him his name?”