Come Back to Me by Jody Hedlund

~ 19 ~

WILL’SHEARTTHRUMMED with a new feeling he couldn’t quite describe. All he knew was that his chest was filled with warmth and fullness and satisfaction like none he’d ever known.

Marian sat across from Phillip and Robert, her head bent over the chessboard, her expression intent. The glow from the hearth fire lit her pale complexion and highlighted the spark in her eyes, the one that said she took the game seriously and was determined to win.

Both sons had his dark hair and blue eyes, but Phillip was the stockier of the two. At eight, the boy was past ready for fostering out. In light of Alice’s death, Will had put off the move longer than he should have. Now, he had no more excuses and needed to make the arrangements soon, ere he left again for France.

After his sons had patiently explained the rules of chess to Marian, they’d taken turns playing with her. He was proud of how intelligent both of the boys were already. Every time they glanced his way at the head of the table, their young faces seemed to seek his approval. Even now, Phillip raised his brow at him, beseeching whether to allow his new mother to win the game or whether he should challenge her.

Will shook his head curtly. He sensed Marian would desire to win fairly or not at all. She’d caught on rapidly, and with enough practice she would soon beat Phillip in her own right.

Phillip nodded and then made his next move, one that took Marian’s queen. Marian caught her bottom lip between her teeth, an unconscious habit that sent heat to Will’s gut every time he witnessed it.

Her fingers tapped against her king. Her soft, graceful fingers. He could almost feel them twined with his. He’d not understood her gesture the first time she’d placed her hand in his. But when they’d knelt together in the chapel yesterday and she’d kept her hand wrapped with his, he’d taken comfort from her hold, felt somehow bolder with her by his side.

When he’d poured out his transgressions before the Almighty Father, the burden hadn’t weighed quite as heavily as usual. Upon rising from prayers, she’d squeezed his fingers. And when he looked down into her eyes, she smiled up at him, her beautiful eyes radiating acceptance and reassuring him that no matter what he’d done, the mistakes he’d made, she could see beyond them to the man he wanted to be.

After she dressed for the day and after they broke their fast, he gave her the tour of the house and grounds she wanted. She seemed to know her way around, almost as if she’d been there before. She even greeted the flowers in the garden like long-lost friends.

Upon her insistence, they watched his sons in their sword and jousting drills. At her encouragement, he joined the swordsmaster and was surprised to find how much he enjoyed training his boys and wondered why he’d never done so before.

She planned a noon fare in the garden—something she called a picnic—and invited Robert and Phillip to join them. The boys were as surprised as he was, but they weren’t able to resist her charm as she led them to a secluded and shaded section directly under a canopy of ivy.

As Will laid back on the blanket she’d spread on the ground, he watched her through half-lidded eyes. Her face was animated as she told the boys stories about ships that could sail in the sky and some that could even carry men all the way to the moon. He loved how she enthralled the boys, how she genuinely liked being with them and treated them like young men and not children.

She would be a good mother to his sons as well as the children they would conceive together. He held in an exasperated sigh at the thought of the promise he’d given her—that she could have five days to get to know him. Part of him didn’t understand why it should matter. They could still learn about each other even after they consummated their marriage, couldn’t they? They had their whole lives to learn about each other.

However, even as his irritation surfaced from time to time, he only had to think of Alice, of the separate lives they’d lived, of the distance he’d felt even when they were together. Already with Marian, in so short a span, a connection drew him like a wave to the shore.

Mayhap if he took the time to understand her over the next few days, they would share a closeness even when he was gone off to war, a bond that could foster fondness in both their hearts through the passing of time and distance.

This morn, she’d met him in the chapel for prayers again. Afterward, she needed only to smile up at him for his reserves to weaken so that he all too readily agreed to her request to spend another day with him. She wanted to observe Robert and Phillip’s lessons as their tutor worked them through arithmetic and science. Will hadn’t needed much prodding to oversee the tutor and ascertain his worth.

Throughout the morn, more than anything, he learned how well-educated Marian was, along with how much she relished explaining concepts to his sons. He found her intelligence fascinating and enjoyed observing her as much as he had his sons.

Even now, with the chessboard spread out on the table, he owned freely that he’d savored the time together more than he thought he would—not only with her, but with his sons. He couldn’t recall when he’d been with them for more than a few minutes at a time. They were shy around him, perhaps even afraid of him. And he’d decided earlier today, he’d avail every opportunity henceforth to show them they had naught to fear.

With a steady drizzle forcing them to remain inside, Marian hadn’t been daunted. She’d insisted on learning chess. Now as the rain pattered against the shutters and roof, the gentle rhythm filled the great hall.

“Checkmate,” Phillip said solemnly.

Marian studied each of her remaining pieces and then sighed. “Yes, you have beaten me.”

“’Tis only your first day, my lady.” Little Robert spoke as solemnly as his big brother. “With practice, you will improve.”

“Do you think so?” She leaned across the table and brushed back a stray strand of damp hair from Robert’s cheek.

“You are already much better at it than I was my first time.” Robert glanced at Will as though seeking approval for his answer. He nodded at the boy, whose chest puffed out with pleasure at Will’s acknowledgment.

Marian studied each of the boys before rising to her feet. “It’s my turn to teach you a game.”

They climbed off their bench, eagerness lighting their eyes.

“Have you heard of hide-and-seek?”

They shook their heads.

She explained the rules and finished with an excited smile, as eager to play the game as they were.

Phillip looked around, already searching for a place to hide. “So, we can hide anywhere within the ground level. But we cannot go to the chambers above?”

“Right.”

“No going in the chapel.” Will stretched his legs out in front of him and reclined in his chair. “Or the kitchen.”

The boys nodded.

“I’ll count to fifty,” Marian said, “while you hide.”

With wide grins, they scampered away. She turned her gaze upon Will expectantly.

He met hers as directly as he always did, loving that she wasn’t intimidated by him in the least.

“Shoo.” She waved at him. “You have to hide too.”

“Me?” He released a scoffing laugh.

“I suppose you’re right.” She cut him off, her eyes baiting him. “I’d find you too easily.”

At her challenge, he rose from his chair. She didn’t know him well if she thought she could find him. He’d become an expert at espionage missions, learning to see but not be seen.

As he started away from the table, her lips curved into a self-satisfied smile, and he realized she did know him well enough to guess he’d take her challenge, that he was too proud to refuse.

He veered toward the open door of his antechamber and hid a smile of his own. Two could play this game. Maybe she’d goaded him into hiding, but he’d relish the chance to show her she couldn’t get anything past him.

Once he secluded himself, he leaned against the wall and listened to her, first finding Robert and then Phillip. Their shouts and laughter echoed all the way into his antechamber, Marian’s sweet laughter mingling in.

When was the last time he’d heard his boys laugh? When was the last time he’d played a game with them? If ever?

“Shall we help you find Father, my lady?” Robert asked.

“No. I don’t want him to think he can outwit me.” She spoke loudly, for his benefit, no doubt.

Another smile twitched Will’s lips. But he smothered it, crossed his arms, and waited. Patiently.

She came, just as he expected, to the half-open door of the antechamber. It squeaked as she pushed it wider, and her soft-slippered steps entered. She stopped halfway into the room, and he could picture her scanning every corner, lit only by the gray daylight coming in the half-open shutters. It took only a few seconds for her footsteps to resume toward the inner vault door he’d left adrift.

She tentatively peeked inside, her eyes wide. She searched the darkness until her sights honed in on him. “I’ve found you.”

He reached for her hand. “You have.” He drew her through the door and across the landing toward him. With a decisiveness that would let her know this had been his intent all along, he roped his arms around her and brought his mouth down on hers.

He smothered her gasp in the crushing kiss he’d wanted to give her all yesterday and today. He was ready for her, and he wasn’t ashamed for her to know it. He supposed he half expected her to tolerate his kiss for a few seconds ere she struggled to put an end to the forbidden pleasure and remind him of his promise to remain chaste for five days.

So he was unprepared when she lifted on her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and melded her lips with his. As she met him kiss for kiss, fervor with fervor, her passion only stirred his. That his wife shared his desires, wanted to be with him, and enjoyed kissing him as much as he did her—he’d never imagined he’d experience such a relationship. And it was made all the sweeter because of the beauty of their day together.

He halted, pulling back a fraction so their ragged breathing mingled. Was this one of the benefits of becoming friends first? Would it add depth and passion to their marriage?

When he’d wed her that night in front of the rebels, he’d vowed to love, honor, and cherish her. He’d meant what he said. He would consciously choose to love, honor, and cherish her for the rest of his earthly life. They were not feelings to come and go at a whim. Instead they were actions and decisions he would make regarding how he treated her.

Nevertheless, was it possible he might actually feel love for her? No doubt he desired her. But could this rush of emotions be the beginning of love?

He gentled his hold and then pressed his lips to her forehead to restrain himself.

She leaned into him, as if sensing his shift in mood. “You outwitted me after all.” Her voice contained a smile.

He kissed her forehead again. Had he really outwitted her? Was that even possible when she held such power over him?

“You didn’t show me this room during our tour yesterday.”

He hadn’t considered it before. But now that they were here, he would show her. If something ever happened to him in France, if he didn’t come home, he wanted her to know this was here, that she would never want nor worry for her future.

He retrieved a torch from the great hall and the keys from their hiding place. When he ducked back inside the low doorway, he led her down a narrow stone stairway. Breathing in the dampness of the earth and the stones, he felt the chill of the air increase as they descended. At the bottom, he unlocked the chain that bolted shut a thick oaken door.

The slab scraped and squealed as he strained to open it. He didn’t go into the vault oft, only to take from the treasury when he left for war or to add to its contents when he returned.

Once inside the stone chamber, he raised the torch high and hooked it through a wall bracket. The light illuminated chests and boxes scattered about the dirt floor.

“This vault was a part of the original house that once stood here.”

She passed ahead of him, fingering the chests and moving to the wall to study some of the artifacts hung about—ancient weapons, rusted armor, and the family coat of arms—all placed there by his grandfather and father as a testament to their courage.

“I thought Chesterfield Park was the first manor built on this location.”

“This land was owned by an archbishop who fell out of favor with King Edward III. The king was eager to reward his best warrior for his deeds of valor at the Battle of Crecy, and so he knighted my grandfather and gave him the land.”

Several recessed ledges had been carved out of the walls and still contained relics and other religious items the archbishop had considered valuable.

“My grandfather used his spoils of war to tear down the archbishop’s residence and build a manor fit for a knight.”

Marian was studying the contents inside one of the recesses. Her eyes widened and her face paled as she pulled something out. It took him a moment to identify what she held—a small rectangular flask with carvings on the outside.

“You have an original St. Thomas ampulla?” She swished it, testing for liquid inside, and then she held the item as though it was as precious as gold.

“A pilgrim ampulla. The monks sell them at the cathedral.”

“But this is one from the time of Thomas Becket. It’s what I’ve been looking for.”

Only then did he realize her fingers were shaking. In fact, her whole body seemed to be trembling.

“Do you have another?” She peered into the recess again.

“Why is this ampulla important to you?” He was reminded of how little he knew about this woman. He’d suspected she’d been running away from an unhappy match and had taken her dowry and fled to safety at the priory. Whilst Christina claimed Marian had lost her memories, Will suspected Marian had only said so to protect herself.

Marian didn’t respond to his question about the ampulla but instead dug deeper into the hole.

He knew that she’d heard him. He crossed to her and waited for her to finish. When she straightened and turned, he swiped the ampulla from her hand.

She tried to snatch it back, but he easily held it out of reach. She strained after it, and when she realized she wouldn’t be able to get it from him, she folded her arms across her chest and scowled.

“Answer me, Marian. Why is this flask important to you?”

A dozen replies rippled across her features. He could see her tossing out one after another, trying to find a way to placate him.

“The truth.” His tone was low and demanding.

Her brown eyes were the darkest he’d ever seen them. She held his gaze before her shoulders finally slumped. “It’s for my sister.”

He could sense she’d told him the truth but only partially so. “And . . .”

“She’s dying, and the holy water will cure her.”

Tension eased from Will’s body—tension he hadn’t known was gathering. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected her to reveal—perhaps something more dangerous and foreboding. This news of her sister, whilst tragic, was easy to accept.

“Please, Will.” She peered at him earnestly. “I made arrangements to deliver two ampullae to a special hiding place in the crypt of Canterbury Cathedral by the end of the week. My sister will be counting on me to have them there.”

Many believed in the power of the holy water and oil to bring about healing. ’Twas why so many ventured to Canterbury every year on pilgrimage, to find relief from ailments of both body and soul. While he’d never encountered such healing for himself, he would not discount it for others.

“Where is your sister?” He would help Marian with her mission if it would bring her peace of mind. “Mayhap I can deliver the ampulla to her directly.”

Marian dropped her attention, hiding her eyes again. “She’s in a place we cannot go.”

A place Marian did not wish to disclose? It was possible this sister had traveled with Marian from the Low Countries and was nearby. Living in a convent, perhaps? Quarantined in a secluded cottage? How could he convince Marian she could trust him with the location?

He returned the ampulla to her, and she again held it reverently. “If I put the ampulla in the secret hiding place in the crypt, it will get to her.”

“You are certain of this?”

She nodded. Her eyes radiated trust and vulnerability as she described to him the carved column where there was a space small enough to hide something. “It’s just that I need to find one more ampulla,” she finished.

“I shall purchase another for you at the cathedral.”

She crossed to the next recessed ledge and began feeling inside. “I need to find an original, one with specific pictures of Becket.”

“If it is holy water, what difference does the container make?”

She stuck her arm deeper into the recess. “The original St. Thomas ampullae were filled with water from a spring at St. Sepulchre, a spring that had true curative properties. The holy water that is now used for filling the ampullae does not have the life-giving residue.” She spoke so matter-of-factly that he knew he would not be able to sway her. The only thing he could do was help her.

He began searching through the numerous nooks and crannies within the vault. After scouring the room, he was surprised when she released a happy squeal. “I’ve found another.”

She grasped a second flask with the same engraving of St. Thomas, and she sank to the floor. Her smile held such relief that he could not help but wonder if this had been her true motive for coming to Canterbury and not an unsuitable match as he’d believed.

“Can we go to the cathedral today?” She studied the newfound flask. “I’d like to put these in the crypt.”

Will didn’t respond. She must know he wouldn’t ride out in the rain this late in the day, especially not with the unrest throughout Kent.

When she glanced up, her eyes were wide and beautiful and filled with such expectation he could feel himself weakening. He helped her back to her feet and steadied her.

“I must put them in the hiding spot as soon as possible.”

As he began to comprehend her plan to accompany him, he shook his head curtly. He’d never permit her to put herself in peril. “I shall deliver them for you, mayhap at week’s end.” Or after he’d gained further reports on whether the rebels had ceased their looting and destruction.

“I need to go. What if you can’t find the hiding spot?”

“You are not going.” He spun on his heels and walked toward the door. “It is too dangerous.”

As he expected, she followed after him. “Please, Will.” Her hand on his back stopped him. He didn’t turn and instead remained facing forward. He didn’t want to look into her eyes and chance losing his ability to say no.

He steeled himself, knowing he would anger her. But her protection and safety were worth the wrath. “I forbid you from leaving.”

“You have no right to forbid me.”

“You are my wife. I have every right.”

“You can’t dictate my life.”

“You will entrust the mission to me or not at all.”

With that, he exited the vault, holding the door open for her.

She hesitated, as though trying to grasp his decision. Finally, she stalked past him, her eyes flashing with anger, her shoulders rigid, her chin aloft.

She’d challenged more of his decisions in the short time he’d known her than anyone else ever had. And he found his own ire rising along with a shot of hot desire. How was it possible she was the most infuriating woman he’d ever met as well as the most beguiling?