Epilogue
There were ponies in the wedding party.
The day of the wedding had dawned bright and warm, and guests had been invited from all over England.
Even the village of Wellesbourne was in the celebration mood, as Matthew had supplied barrels of wine and two large hogs for a feast. Everyone in and around Wellesbourne Castle was celebrating on this day, cheering the happy couple on the event of their marriage.
But it was an unusual wedding party already.
Cynethryn and Brencis had begged to have their ponies with them, and Dewi as well, and deck them out in flowers.
Trenton had given them permission for the ponies, but he knew Dewi wouldn’t tolerate being primped, so he had to suffer through Brencis’ sad face when he denied her permission to decorate his warhorse.
He had given the girls his approval without asking Lysabel, who hadn’t been around at the time.
She had been in her chamber with her mother, and Remington, and Gilliana, Trenton’s youngest sister, and he hadn’t wanted to bother her about it.
Or perhaps he simply wanted to make his first fatherly decision.
It had felt good.
Because the wedding had happened within a week of Matthew officially giving his consent, that meant that most things, including the announcements, had been rushed.
News of Benoit de Wilde’s death had been circulated shortly before the announcement of the remarriage of Lady de Wilde, and messengers were sent out to all of the de Russe and Wellesbourne siblings.
Unfortunately, most were unable to attend, but a few had managed – William was there, of course, as was his brother, Daniel, a rather serious knight without much of a sense of humor.
He was a trainer at Kenilworth and it showed – grim, dedicated, and knightly.
William had harassed him about it until Daniel slugged him, drawing blood.
William teased from a safe distance after that.
Matthieu de Russe had also been able to attend the festivities, and he had brought his wife and young sons, who were tormented by Cort and Boden and Gage. Wellesbourne Castle abounded with screaming children and taunting uncles. But it was all in great fun.
Then, of course, there were the ponies in the wedding party.
At sunset on the eighth day after Matthew gave his consent, a priest from St. Peter’s church in Wellesbourne’s village performed the wedding mass at the door to Wellesbourne’s keep, with nearly everyone at Wellesbourne as witnesses.
Trenton had never known such happiness and as he looked into Lysabel’s eyes as the priest tied their hands together with a satin sash, he was genuinely choked with emotion.
It would have been perfect had a series of unsavory events not interrupted what had been the most momentous moment of his life.
It had all started with Cynethryn and Brencis being led into the wedding ceremony on Honey and Snowdrop, who were no longer lame and covered in flowers that the little girls had woven into their manes and tails.
William was leading Cynethryn as Boden led Brencis, with the uncles in charge of managing the girls and the animals.
It sounded simple enough. They positioned the beasts next to Lysabel, who rolled her eyes when she saw the barnyard wedding guests.
She laid the blame squarely on Trenton, who merely shrugged sheepishly.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. Somehow, one of the ponies had a sour stomach and started to pass gas during the ceremony, which drove most of the younger knights into fits of giggles.
Nothing said romance like a pony farting throughout a wedding.
It was bad enough, but Gage, who was standing near the offending pony, tried to push the beast away from him.
That resulted in the animal lifting its tail and dumping shite onto his feet.
Disgusted, Gage tried to move away, but ended up slipping in the shite, crashing into his brother, Matthieu, who shoved him aside and sent him onto his arse. This startled the ponies, and Lysabel grabbed Brencis as Trenton grabbed Cynethryn to prevent the ponies from dumping the girls.
After that, the animals were banished, and the girls were teary with the loss, but the ceremony proceeded without incident. Lysabel Wellesbourne de Wilde became Lady de Russe, Countess of Westbury, and farting ponies notwithstanding, Trenton had never been so proud in his entire life.
It was done.
Day moved into night, and all of Wellesbourne had joined in the wedding festivities.
Even the off-duty soldiers were drunk. The castle was lit up and could be seen for miles around, and the wine and music both flowed freely.
Trenton and Lysabel walked hand in hand among the guests, receiving their blessing and well-wishes, as the girls sat sleepily with Alixandrea and Remington, who ended up taking them up to bed when the hour grew late.
The last Trenton saw of his mother, it was with Brencis hanging on to her neck, cuddling up to the woman.
Already, they were family.
“My girls love your mother,” Lysabel said softly as she watched Remington follow Alixandrea from the hall. “She is a truly wonderful woman.”
Trenton smiled, his arm around her shoulders and a cup of wine in his hand. He gave her a squeeze as his attention turned to the great hall, with its smoke and laughter and revelry going on.
“Look at Dane,” he said, pointing with the hand that held the cup. “He has only been watching that gambling game. The second my mother leaves the hall, he’ll rush to join it.”
Lysabel giggled when, as predicted, Dane inserted himself into the middle of a gambling game over near the hearth. “He is a grown man,” she said. “Are you telling me that he is still afraid of his mother?”
Trenton looked at her. “Aren’t you?”
Lysabel continued laughing, conceding the point.
Her gaze moved over the hall, seeing both family and friends alike enjoying themselves.
Cort, William, Gage, and Boden, the troublemakers, were laughing and drinking along with Matthieu and Daniel, older brothers who weren’t quite as silly and gay as the younger knights, but they were enjoying themselves nonetheless.
Markus was also there along with Trenton’s men, Timothy, Adrian, and Anthony, who had come from the village of Westbury to witness the wedding at Trenton’s summons.
Trenton had sent a missive to The Horn and The Crown tavern, where they had been waiting for him, and they’d come on the run.
He’d only spoken with them briefly when they arrived, and it had been clear that they were surprised by the wedding to Lady de Wilde.
Considering the last time they’d seen the woman was the night they’d killed her first husband, to say that they were surprised was putting it mildly.
Still, when Trenton explained everything, they understood – in his quest to ensure she was safe after the harrowing events with her husband, Trenton had fallen in love with her.
It was as simple as that. Perhaps that was the most shocking of all to them, that the Trenton de Russe they knew could actually show such feeling.
But it was feeling that was exceedingly obvious.
“Trenton?” Lysabel asked over the noise of the hall.
“Aye, love?”
Her gaze was lingering on Timothy and Adrian and Anthony as the men drank heartily with Markus. “When your men return to London, are you going with them?”
Trenton looked at his men, also. He’d been with them for many years, and they’d lived side by side for most of that time. He found it ironic that in the biggest adventure of his life, the one with Lysabel, they hadn’t been with him at all.
But perhaps they weren’t meant to be.
They were from another chapter in his life.
“I will,” he said, “but only to give Henry my resignation in person.”
She smiled up at him. “Are you certain?” she asked. “I do not wish for you to surrender something you love to do. You told me once that you felt as if you made a difference. That you were shaping a kingdom.”
He looked down at her. “That is true, but there is more to it,” he said.
“I think I was hiding from something, hiding from what my life had become. I was doing what I wanted to do because there was nothing else for me. But now… now, there is so much more for me. I told your father that I would give it all up for you and I meant it. We shall retire to Deverill Castle for now, but I shall petition Henry for permission to build a new castle at Westbury, something bigger and more beautiful than you can possibly imagine. You deserve something as grand as I can give you.”
She reached up, touching his face sweetly. “Only if you’re certain.
“Never more certain of anything. You are what is most important to me now.”
Lysabel leaned in to him for a hug and he kissed the top of her head. But as she looked at the hall, she spied her father and Gaston sitting at the very end of one of the tables, deeply involved in their conversation.
Two great knights with their empires laid out before them, and their children marrying to cement a great legacy. It was a proud and powerful dynasty they both shared, The Dark One and the White Lord. Lysabel’s gaze lingered on Matthew.
“My father seems much happier the past few days,” she said. “Don’t you think so?”
Trenton spied the two older men also. “Aye,” he said. “He is back to hugging me again. He has not done that since this whole thing started.”
“He loves you,” Lysabel said. “He has always loved you. I think he feels bad for the way things went, for the position he had to take. Truthfully, now that things have calmed down and everything worked in our favor, I understand what he was trying to do. It was a terribly difficult position for him, though.”
Trenton nodded. “It was,” he said. “In hindsight, if the same thing had happened to Cissy or Cinny, I cannot say that I would not have reacted just as your father did.”
“Did you tell him that?”
“Not yet. But I will.”
“Why don’t you do that now? I want to see my daughters before they go to sleep. Come up when you have finished with my father and bid them a good sleep.”
Trenton’s gaze lingered on his father and Matthew, seeing how wrapped up in their conversation they were.
He could only imagine what they were discussing; the past, their dedication to each other, and their dedication to a braver, stronger England.
Perhaps, they were discussing the future.
Trenton could only imagine Matthew’s grief at facing a future without his very best friend, because it was a grief that Trenton suffered every single day, knowing that each day with his father was precious.
And each day might be the last.
That was why he was so glad his father was here with him now, seeing his joy as he embarked on a new life with the woman he loved.
It had been a hard-fought battle, but they’d been victorious, and it was a victory for all to share.
Trenton had already discussed with Lysabel the importance of spending what time he could with his father at Deverill Castle, for as long as he could. She wholeheartedly agreed.
It was something more to love her for.
“I will talk to him,” he said. “But give the old men their time together. That time between them is rare and few these days. For now, I have something else to do.”
“What?”
“I have a man to thank.”
Lysabel knew who he meant.
Ranse de Troyes hadn’t attended the wedding, or any of the festivities even though he’d been invited.
He’d politely declined, instead preferring to remain at his post to ensure Wellesbourne Castle was safe and the wedding uninterrupted.
It was his wedding gift to the happy couple, but Lysabel suspected there was more to it.
It would have been difficult for any man to witness a marriage that should have been his, and she didn’t blame him for staying away.
The man who had made this all possible.
Therefore, she smiled in understanding at Trenton’s statement and kissed him before heading from the hall, following the path of her mother and mother-in-law as they’d taken her girls to bed.
Trenton watched her go, his heart fuller than he ever knew possible. A new wife, new daughters, and a baby on the way made him more content than he’d ever been. A whole new life was laid wide before him and the world was at his feet. Together, with Lysabel, he would conquer it all.
He would be the man his father had always wanted him to be.
As Trenton headed out of the hall on his way to thank de Troyes, he looked up into the brilliant night sky and remembered that on a night very similar to this one, he’d discovered the love of his life in an abused, beaten lady who, in spite of her sorrows, had never let it destroy her.
Her strength and her dignity were the things legends were made of, but the adoration he felt for her was something only dreamt of.
Trenton de Russe had finally learned the meaning of what it meant to love.
* THE END *