Epilogue
Five years later
“Maman, Maman!”
I lay still, not wishing to move, listening to the sound of the wind in the trees above me and the faint musical melody of the nearby stream.
“Maman!” The voice drew closer.
Summer was over but the heat of the sun bathed my face. The bright sunlight penetrated my eyelids, giving a sense of being enveloped in a warm, red blanket.
“Maman, they are coming! Sir Roger is on an enormous black horse!”
I rolled to one side, opening my eyes to look across the field. The roof of the hall was barely visible between tall pointed tufts that gently moved from side to side in the breeze. The wheat was growing, and I smiled at the prospect of a good harvest.
A strong arm pulled me back and a hand coiled around my waist and settled over my belly where the swelling was beginning to show. I covered the hand with my own, interlocking with the long, fingers.
Hurried footsteps approached and the voice called out again. A soft kiss landed on my forehead, and I looked up into a blue more brilliant than the sky overhead.
“Geoffrey grows impatient, cherie.” My husband’s deep voice reverberated through his body where I lay with my head in his lap, and I sighed.
“It’s almost as if he wants to leave me.”
Vane drew me to him and placed a kiss on my lips before helping me to my feet.
We heard squeals of delight as our son caught sight of us.
Cradling my face in his hands, Vane wiped away the tear that had begun to form before I had even realized it.
My husband knew me better than I knew myself. He always would.
“’Tis a great honor for him, Lisetta, and he’s not going far. Beauvane Castle is barely two days’ ride away.”
Geoffrey was to be fostered as a page to de Beauvane, the first step on his path to manhood and eventually knighthood. Sir Roger and Lady Adelia were to stay with us for a sennight before taking our son back to Kent.
Shortly after Vane and I were reunited, Sir Roger granted Vane an estate situated between Beauvane Castle and London; a fertile plot of land with a hall and various outbuildings.
The hall itself was considerably smaller than Shoreton and Mortlock, but it was warm and comfortable, and I had never been happier.
The village and farm which served us had grown and prospered since we arrived.
Sir Roger had established many of the villagers and servants from Shoreton, including Elspeth who kept house for us and looked after our children.
Our servants even included some of the children from Mortlock Fort.
The night Vane had left me alone at the smith’s hut, he returned to Mortlock in search of survivors, delivering them into de Beauvane’s care, including Cedric, who was now our head groom.
Jack and Lily visited us regularly, having settled nearby. Lily had been staying with us to spend time with Geoffrey before he left, and as my son rushed toward us, she followed in his wake. My son adored his aunt, and she would miss him almost as much as I.
As he reached us, Geoffrey threw his arms around my waist. He already reached my chest in height. When he reached manhood, he would likely grow to be taller even than his father.
“Tante Lily was helping Elspeth in the kitchens when Cedric told us he saw them coming,” he said, his voice vibrating with animation. “Sir Roger has brought that big horse with him, the one he said he’d let me ride one day. He…”
My son’s joy for life was infectious, but when I saw Lily her eyes were wet with tears that mirrored my own. She opened her arms, and we embraced while Vane lifted Geoffrey into the air, swinging him round as he screamed with laughter.
“Again, Papa, again!”
“No more, young sir, or I’ll be unable to greet Sir Roger properly.”
My husband’s voice was stern but his eyes sparkled with mirth. He set Geoffrey down and my son gave me another quick hug before he took Lily’s hand and ran back to the hall, insisting that as the eldest son, the right and duty to lead the welcome party belonged to him.
Vane took my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“Lisetta my love, do not worry,” he said. “Geoffrey will be in good hands. I know you’ll miss him, but you can rejoice in his future. He’ll grow up to be a knight like his father—as will little Henri.”
I let out a sigh. “I could wish for nothing more for either of our sons than to be like you, Vane. For you are the best of men.”
He pulled me close, turning me around so my back was against his chest. Then he wrapped his arms around my front, caressing my belly. Our child responded to his touch, and he murmured with delight at the flutter of movement. He dipped his head and nipped my ear, his hot breath fanning my neck.
“Perhaps after two sons you might see fit to bless me with a daughter to cherish.”
I leaned into his warm body.
“She’s considerably more restless than her brothers were. This past fortnight I have slept poorly.”
He chuckled softly, molding his body against mine where his rigid manhood pulsed against my lower back.
“If I recall, wife, it’s your husband who has been restless this past fortnight. He is in pain now, and I would have you soothe him.”
“But Sir Roger, Lady Adelia…”
“…will be greeted by Geoffrey and will think no less of us for being otherwise occupied. Come, wife, I expect you to honor your vows and be obedient.”
My husband was not to be denied. He pulled me back onto the blanket on which we had been lying.
“I. Love. You. Wife,” he said, kissing me between each word on the forehead, nose, cheeks, before finally claiming my lips.
I reached up, gladly opening myself to him.
We made love in the field under the warmth of the evening sun before returning to our home, hand in hand as any young couple in love, to greet our overlord and dine with him before retiring to our chamber to share a plate of honeyed figs.