Authors: Anna Markland
A Man of Value (26 page)
The tears came unbidden and rolled down Agneta’s cheek. “It’s a ruin,” she choked.
“I’ve also asked for his assistance in rebuilding the hall and manor house. Rufus will recognize the benefits of a prosperous estate in that area of Northumbria, now Roger de Mowbray has been disgraced and imprisoned. I’m sure you and my son can restore it to its former standing.”
She looked up again at the Earl. His smile filled her heart and she could barely speak.
“
Thank you
seems little to say in return, my lord Earl.”
Caedmon rose from his chair, nodded to his father and escorted his wife back to her place. Agneta felt his hand tremble at her elbow.
~~~
They’d retired to their chamber. Caedmon sat, gazing at Blythe cradled to his chest. Whenever he looked at the child he couldn’t believe how much she already resembled Agneta. His daughter slept peacefully, unaware of the thudding of her father’s heart as he waited for Agneta to finish reading his codex.
Finally he heard his wife sigh and plucked up the courage to steal a glance at her and saw her tears. He rose and lay the child carefully in her cradle, then strode over to where Agneta sat, the closed codex on her lap, her hands folded atop it. He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. As soon as he touched her, the blood rushed to his groin.
“Don’t cry, Agneta. I didn’t want to make you sad.”
“I’m not sad, Caedmon. I’m filled with a happiness that makes me want to weep. You truly love me.”
He sat down beside her, took her hand and placed it on his erection. “Did you ever doubt it?”
She giggled. “No. I’m fortunate to have a lusty man like you for a husband.” The smile left her face. “I grieve for the torments and trials you underwent on the Crusade.”
He put his hand on her thigh. “But the experience made a better man of me, though it hurt you when I left.”
She put her hand atop his. “But I’m stronger too. I’ve learned not to let my hatred and resentments rule me. I thank God for bringing you back safely to my side.”
“And our children will perhaps benefit, if we teach them the futility of hatred.”
She smiled. “The best way to do that is to preserve this book of yours and make sure they read it as they grow older. I’ll make a new cover for it.”
“And I’ll teach you how to make quills, but first—”
She screamed with laughter as he pushed her back onto the bed. The codex fell to the floor.
“Your journal,” she spluttered.
“Later,” he replied.
~~~
“Caedmon,” Agneta whispered as they lay skin to skin in each other’s arms that night, listening to the steady breathing of their sleeping infants. “Your father has given us the Sussex manors, but when Kirkthwaite Hall is rebuilt, would you want to live there? You’ve said often you would like a piece of Northumbria for yourself.”
He looked at her with surprise. “I would like that very much. I’m a northerner at heart. And my mother wants to return to Shelfhoc, though she’ll be without a knight.”
“Leofric will be more than happy to stay there, with his wife.”
Caedmon sat up abruptly. “His wife?”
“He and Coventina married.”
“The devil! Her mother approved?”
“She didn’t have much choice. Coventina finally stood up for what she wanted.”
Caedmon lay back down and cradled his wife again, chuckling.
Agneta put her fingers on his lips. “Will you promise, if we go to Kirkthwaite, to do something for me?”
“I’ll do anything for you,” he whispered, nibbling her earlobe.
Agneta rose and went to the
armoire
. She didn’t unwrap the bundle she retrieved, but knelt on the bed beside Caedmon with it in her hands.
“I was proud of you this evening as you pledged yourself to your Father. My heart was ready to burst.”
He sat up, pulling the linens around his hips, his arms resting on his bent knees. “I was proud of myself too. I’m a better man than I was.”
She paused, trying to gather her thoughts. “When we left the Abbey, Mother Superior gave this to me. You’ve never asked me about it.”
He looked into her eyes. “I trusted you would tell me.”
She unfolded the wrapping and held the dagger out to him with both hands, like an offering.
“It’s a ceremonial dagger,” he said, leaning forward to take hold of the walrus ivory handle, examining the workmanship. “Danish, I think? Someone laboured long over this.”
“It belonged to my mother, who inherited it from her mother, who received it as a gift from her grandfather. He made it.”
“Your great, great grandfather,” he calculated.
“Yes. My mother took her life with it.”
There was a long awkward silence as he sat looking at the dagger. Finally he raised his eyes to meet her gaze. “After Bolton?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry, Agneta,” he whispered, shaking his head. “Sorry for the pain I caused.”
She struggled to continue. “At first I refused to take it, but Mother Superior insisted. She told me it’s good to have a reminder of past sorrow.”
Reaching forward, she took the dagger from his hands, and pressed the point lightly to her breast. “When you left on the Crusade, I intended to take my own life with it.”
“No, Agneta,” he cried, rising to his knees, trying to wrest the dagger from her.
She held his warm hand over the cold dagger at her breast as they knelt, their bodies pressed together, the dagger between them. She smiled and shook her head.
“I’m not telling you this to make you feel guilty. I knew then I loved you and didn’t want to live without you. I truly understood, for the first time, something of what my mother felt on that fateful day when she took her life. The dagger brought home to me many things. My pride in my ancestry, my love for you, the sure knowledge you are a good and true man, a noble man, a man of value. When I saw you at Bolton, your actions showed you were sickened by what happened there. The way you cradled Aidan—”
She pressed her lips together, unable to continue.
“I’m not worthy of you,” he choked.
“Caedmon, I’m the one who hasn’t been worthy of you. I insisted on making you feel guilty for something you’d atoned for long ago. I failed to provide you with the love you needed to cushion the blow when you found out—”
Caedmon put his fingertips on her mouth, took the dagger, placed it beside them, then drew her back into his arms. “You’d suffered such a great loss.”
“Our conversation about your codex made me think about what I want to pass on to my children. When we return to Kirkthwaite, I want you to find a place of honour to display my dagger. After my death, I want you to give it to Blythe. I will tell our children its history when they are old enough. It will be a reminder of pain and sorrow, but also love and endurance. We marked Aidan as firstborn with it. The dagger saved my life, and perhaps yours. It sent me to your father for help.”
They clung to each other for long minutes, thighs to thighs, belly to belly, breasts to chest, her head resting on his shoulder. His breathing quickened and she felt his hard male length against her. She moved one leg to press against his hip. He kneaded her thigh and she wrapped her legs around him. He lifted her slightly and she impaled herself on his shaft.
“You’re my heart,” she whispered, rocking against him.
“And you my soul.”
~~~
Later that night, the faithful steward of Ellesmere Castle, Martin Bonhomme, was making his final rounds through the darkened castle to ensure all was well. As he passed the chamber of the Earl and Countess, he smiled. Judging from the squeals of delight coming from the room everything was back to normal at the castle.
He carried on past the chamber assigned to Sir Caedmon and Lady Agneta, and after pausing briefly to listen to the happy commotion inside, chuckled, “Like father, like son.”
He hurried off to his own chamber, where his wife awaited him.
EPILOGUE
The heroes and heroines of this story outlived King William II (William Rufus) who died in a bizarre hunting accident in the New Forest, in the year of Our Lord Eleven Hundred, after being king for only thirteen years. He was
accidentally
shot with an arrow, by a hunting companion renowned throughout England as an expert bowman. Rufus might have lived had he not fallen from his horse and driven the arrow deeper.
He was succeeded on the throne of the English by his brother, Henry, co-conspirator of the chamber pot incident, who coincidentally was also present in the New Forest on the day of the accident. We must bear in mind the New Forest covered a vast area.
The dramatic lives of the descendants of Ram and Mabelle, Rhodri and Rhonwen, and Caedmon and Agneta form the lore and legend of the next generation and the beginning of the turbulent twelfth century. But those are other stories in the Montbryce Legacy.
####
Afterword
Thank you for reading
A Man of Value
. If you enjoyed this book, I would appreciate it if you would help others enjoy it too.
Recommend it
. Please help other readers find this book by recommending it to friends, readers’ groups and discussion boards.
Tweet about it.
Review it
. Please tell other readers why you liked this book by reviewing it at the following websites: Amazon and Goodreads. If you do publish a review, send an email to anna at annamarkland dot com, so I can thank you personally.
If you are anxious to know the beginning of this family’s story, you’ll enjoy
Conquering Passion
,
Book One of The Montbryce Legacy.
If you would like to read about Hugh and Antoine de Montbryce, I recommend
If Love Dares Enough
.
When Caedmon’s daughter grows up she becomes a lady-in-waiting to Henry I’s daughter and travels with her to Germany, where unexpected things happen.
Carried Away
is her story.
About the Author
Anna Markland is a Canadian author with a keen interest in genealogy. She writes medieval romance about family honour, ancestry and roots. Her novels are intimate love stories filled with passion and adventure. Following a fruitful career in teaching, Anna transformed her love of writing and history into engaging works of fiction. Prior to becoming a fiction author, she published numerous family histories. One of the things she enjoys most about writing historical romance is the in-depth research required to provide the reader with an authentic medieval experience.
Twitter @annamarkland
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