Jenna Jaxon - Time Enough to Love 03 (19 page)

“If only I could have a familiar face with me,” she said, picking at her food.

“You need to eat, love, for the child.”

She made a face, but tore off a piece of her bread and chewed resolutely.

“I will stay with you, my love, if you want me to.” He recoiled from the idea of seeing her in pain, but would gladly make that sacrifice if it would allay her fears.

“Nay, my love.” The horror that filled her wide eyes seemed almost comical. “I would not have you see me thus. Such things are not meant for men’s eyes. But oh, if I could have Lady Maurya to attend me
, I would rejoice. She was such a good friend. Even Anne, though we never got along. But as long as I have someone with experience, I am sure I will be fine.” She went back to picking at the food on her trencher.

Geoffrey drank deep of his wine, hating that he had no better prospects to offer her. There were simply no midwives in the surrounding countryside. Mayhap if he journeyed far enough he would find a woman with birthing experience to attend her, although unlikely it would be one she knew. All her friends had perished in
France. No one had been spared, neither kith nor kin. Unless…. Geoffrey shot upright in his seat, his whole body tensed. “Alyse, what if I fetched your sister to attend you?”

Alyse’s head came up; her eyes met his with a gleam of joy. “What a wonderful idea.” She took up a piece of chicken and bit into it enthusiastically. “Pippa knows nothing of childbirth, but if I could have her attend me at least I would not feel so all alone. Do you think the queen could spare her?”

“I do not know, but I ride to Windsor at first light tomorrow. With luck, I will return tomorrow evening with your sister, or at least the promise of her. I may have to return with the carriage for her. When do you expect to be confined?”

“As best I can figure, I am not due before May Day, but I cannot be sure. Might she truly come back with you tomorrow?” Her eager face wrenched his heart. He would bring the girl back if he had to tie her behind him on Saracen.

“I will bring her as quickly as I can, love. I will steal her away if I must, but I will bring her to you ere you are brought to childbed. My word on it.” He rose from the table. “And now, if you have finished, my countess, I will take you to our bed.”

He swept Alyse up in his arms and gently laid her down in the big bed. He quickly stripped off his garments, blew out the lights, and slid into the sheets beside her. She snuggled in beside him, and they lay together kissing and caressing until a series of rapid kicks landed squarely on Geoffrey’s stomach.

“Whoa, little one.” He laughed. “I do but kiss your mother. Wait a while before you try to defend her.” He kissed Alyse again. “Did you ever think to have such a cadre of gallant protectors, my lady?”

“Nay, my lord, though I am glad of them.” She rubbed her belly where the flesh poked out as the babe moved within her. “However, it seems I hardly have need of them now.” She stared down at her extremely swollen belly and spoke with mock horror. “I am so big, Geoffrey, no one would look twice at me, much less desire a woman who looks like she swallowed a cow.”

“Never a cow, my love.” He grinned mischievously. “But perhaps a calf?’

“Geoffrey!”

“A small calf…”

Laughing, he took her in his arms. Someone desired her this moment. He raised her shift and ran his hand over her stomach then kissed the creamy skin. Here was beauty incarnate. And it would be his absolute pleasure to convince her of that.

Chapter 20

Geoffrey’s journey to
London bore wonderful fruit. Alyse shed tears of joy when she beheld her sister and the midwife riding in a carriage sent by Queen Phillipa to attend her. Much of her anxiety eased with the arrival of Joan Margate, who had attended the queen at several of her lyings-in. With her years of experience, this woman could tell her with surety what to expect during the labor. The more she knew, the less she would fear.

The three women immediately fell to making preparations for Alyse’s coming confinement. They retired to the master solar, where Joan bade Alyse lie down that she might examine her. She asked about the pregnancy and how she had faired thus far. She felt Alyse’s belly and the hearty kicking that seemed constant now.

“’Tis a good sign, my lady, that the child is so active. Mayhap ’twill make for an easier time for you.”

Alyse sent a prayer to St. Margaret, patron saint of laboring women
, that it might be so.

The last week in April
, the child moved downward in Alyse’s belly; Joan confirmed it was a sign her time was near. She had grown so big, it was difficult to sit, stand, or lie down. Although she still feared the coming ordeal, she longed for her labor to begin. She was heartily tired of waiting.

A
s she lay beside Geoffrey in the huge oak bed, she turned this way and that, trying to find a position that would afford her some rest. The skin over her belly was stretched as tight as a drum which compounded her discomfort. She rubbed it in an attempt to find some relief, and got a kick from within for her pains. Try as she might, nothing she did appeared to help. If she lay on her right side, she rested her back against Geoffrey, usually her favorite way to fall asleep. Now, however, his heat seemed to scorch her through her shift, and she had to keep her distance. Lying on her other side was more comfortable, but her left arm tended to get a prickling sensation whenever she lay like that for long. And if she lay on her back…

Alyse sighed and sat up in bed. Geoffrey bolted up, instantly awake. “What is wrong, sweetheart? Is it the
…”

“Nay, my love. I lay on my back
, and now I need the chamberpot again.”

Geoffrey chuckled. “Do you need my assistance, madam?”

“Hah.” She slowly slid off the bed. “I hardly think so at this point.” She reached for the pot then stopped.

“Geoffrey?”

“Can you not find it, my love? I placed it right near the foot of the bed.”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean…” She stopped midsentence, her hand going to her belly.

“Alyse? What was that sound? Did you miss the pot, love?”

“Geoffrey.” The sharp pain wrenched a gasp from Alyse.

A light flared, showing a naked Geoffrey beside the bed. “What is wrong, sweetheart? What happened?” He took a step toward her then backed up. “The floor is wet.” She looked down at the drenched fabric clinging to her legs. “See, you did need my assistance. All you had to do was ask, my love.”

Alyse stared at him, unable to speak as she adjusted to the new sensations in her body. She panted as
another pain rippled across her stomach.

“Let me take this wet shift off you. There.” He expertly stripped it from her swollen body and dropped it to the floor to absorb the water still at her feet. “Where are your other shifts?” He rummaged in her chest until he pulled out another and brought it to her, sliding it over her head and
arranging the soft folds over her. Proudly, he stood back. “All better now, my sweet?”

The pains eased
, and Alyse found her tongue. “Geoffrey! I did not miss the chamberpot. I am—” She stopped abruptly, the pain once more drawing down her back and around her belly to end, mercifully, as it reached the bottom of her abdomen. She gasped and started to breathe again.

Geoffrey froze, his mouth working without sound until finally he bellowed, “God’s death! The baby. Alyse, why didn’t you tell me?” With shaking hand
, he set the candlestick onto the floor and snatched her into his arms. He whirled in a perfect circle until darting finally for the bed. After placing her carefully in the center, he raced out the door, shouting for Joan. A moment later he ran back in, grabbed his chausses and tunic, and hastily pulled them on. He knelt beside her and pressed her hand to his mouth.

Raw, passionate love showed in his face, his voice, his eyes.
However, fear lurked there as well.

She stroked his head.
Strange that now the time was nigh, her fear had receded.

Truth to tell
, the pain had erased all else as it built again. ’Twould be a struggle, yet she looked forward to having this work done, to holding their child in her arms.

Joan entered the room, and immediately frowned at Geoffrey. Pippa trailed in, yawning and straightening her gown. Joan’s attention shifted to the girl as she began her instructions to her assistant.

Alyse feared her time with Geoffrey would be short. Let her comfort him while she might. “’Twill be all right, my love. When next I see you ’twill be with your babe in my arms.” She broke off as another pain hit, and she clamped down on his hand while she weathered the pang. When it was through, she lay back panting, ready to reassure him.

His face had turned chalky white in the flickering candlelight, his mouth set in
strained lines as though he had suffered the pain as well. The torment there gave her the courage to release him. “You must go now, my love. This is woman’s work for a while. Pippa will call you to come see your son.”

“’Tis no matter if it be son or daughter.” He clutched her face, peered into her eyes
, and whispered, “’Tis no matter if ’tis mine or Thomas’s. Nothing matters, save that you and the babe live.”

“I do love you so much.” She closed her eyes, relieved that he had not forgotten his word.

“God’s truth, madam, I love you.” He kissed her so deeply she scarce could draw breath.

“Lord Longford!” Joan grabbed Geoffrey by the elbow and dragged him away. “You must leave now, my lord. Now
.” The woman flew at him like a wren, small and unrelenting. “I must tend to Lady Longford, and I cannot do it with you still here. You will be sent for when you are needed.”

Geoffrey staggered out of the room. The last sight Alyse had of him, he was standing in the hallway, trying to peer in as Pippa shut the door.

“Now, my lady,” Joan said, pulling Alyse’s shift up above her hips and pushing her knees up. “Let’s see what we’re about.”

* * * *

Geoffrey glimpsed the midwife standing at the foot of the bed when Pippa closed the door in his face. He slumped and glanced around, expecting to see others awake and busy, bustling with tasks to aid Joan and his wife. But the house remained silent in the middle of the night.

He started down the steps, still unsure where to go or what to do. If
’twas light he could saddle Saracen and ride out. Doing something, anything, would surely take his mind off this damnable business.

His feet carried him into the but
lery. If activity was not available, by God, wine was. He chose a full skin and took it outside, to the central courtyard of the manor. Geoffrey found the small bench he had had placed in a corner of the courtyard, a subtle reminder of the first passionate embrace he had shared with Alyse. Later in the summer, roses would cover the trellis, until they had their own bower to flee to when the mood struck them. He tipped the wineskin up and welcomed a mouthful of the rich French wine. Was it Bordeaux? He must ask John.

How long would this birthing take? Why had he
not asked such an important question while he had had the chance? Waiting was ever the worst thing. Especially waiting alone. He took another pull on the wineskin. What he would not give to have Thomas here at his side right now. He shook his head.

If Thomas were here,
’twould be me comforting him, and we would be in Castile. Or Thomas would be here, and Alyse and I would be in Castile
.

“I am here, Thomas,” he spoke out loud in the darkness
, “and you are not, but God help me, I need you now as I never have before.” Another mouthful of wine. Geoffrey leaned his head back against the bower’s wall.

“She is strong, my friend. You need have no fear for her.”
Geoffrey could hear the familiar voice in his mind as though Thomas indeed sat beside him.

“But she has been through so much. So much that she did not have to suffer, but for me.”

“Playing the martyr now, Geoffrey? The role hardly suits you.”
That mocking tone rang true, irritating as always.
“Why not simply the loving husband, a part you were destined to play? You were besotted with her from the first. I could scarcely watch the two of you.”

“Jealous
, were you, Thomas?”

“Nay, my friend. That too was your part. The jealous friend or lover or husband. Mayhap you have finally learned there was no call for such behavior?”

Geoffrey shook his head. “Aye. There was never any call, was there? Except…”

“Aye. Except when she was married to me.”

Geoffrey grunted and tipped the skin again. “And then the tables turned.”

“Aye, then I was the jealous one. I cannot say I did not know how you felt. She was worth fighting for. Worth dying for.”

Pain tore through him. “You did die, Thomas. Just not for her.”

“Oh, but Geoffrey, I did die for her. I would have taken the sickness for her if that would have kept her safe. But I died for her so that she would be free to return to you.”

Geoffrey snorted. “So then I suppose Mary died for me, so that I would be free to seek Alyse?”

Another indulgent chuckle.
“Geoffrey, look at all that has happened over the past year. Can you not see the pattern? It fits together, my friend, like a stained glass window, made up of many small bits of brightly colored glass. If you look at those bits one by one, they do not mean anything. But taken as a whole, from a far enough distance, ’tis a beautiful sight, with life, and meaning, and wonder.”
Thomas’s voice grew more resolute.
“That window is not yet complete, Geoffrey. You but wait for the final bit to be placed in the frame. Go see what he looks like, my friend. Go now.”

Geoffrey awoke in the bower, the wineskin beside him on the bench empty, the dawn just lighting the eastern sky pink. What the devil was he doing here? He picked up the wineskin and the night’s business all came flooding back. He jumped and ran into the manor house, taking the stairs two and sometimes three at time. He landed in front of their chamber door just in time to hear an ear-piercing shriek erupt from within.

Alyse
.

His legs wobbled
, and he slumped to the floor. He gripped his head in his hands, agonized that he could have heard his wife’s dying wail.

Until the next one came, longer and more shrill than the last.

“God’s death!” He glanced around the corridor, but there was nowhere to retreat to. Nothing to do but see the bloody business through. Slowly, he got to his feet, steeling himself for the next scream. What came, however, was no scream, but a cry. A lusty cry from an upset babe. Geoffrey leaned against the door, gathering his strength to knock, and almost fell into the room when Pippa opened it.

He gazed
around the room, trying to see the whole chamber at once. His attention lighted on Alyse, sitting on a strange chair, her gown around her hips, breathing heavily and looking tired, but oh so satisfied. A bundle wriggled at her breast.

She tried to smile as she said, “Geoffrey, come look…”

“He’s got all ten fingers and ten toes, my lord,” Joan said as she removed a bloody basin. “And all the other trappings a boy child should have.”

A son
.

His heart thumped
, and he took a halting step into the chamber, afraid to make a quick movement or a sound.

Alyse pushed the swaddling off the baby’s head
, and he lurched forward, eager now to see him.

Joan grabbed his arm and broke in before he moved closer. “Coloring in families is sometimes a chancy thing, my lord. Sometimes the child looks like neither ma nor da, but later has the look of a grandma or grandda. Have you any light hair in your family, my lady?”

Alyse looked up at Geoffrey and shook her head. “Nay, I have not heard of any who were not dark.” The excitement in her face was tempered with sadness. “Geoffrey? Have you any in yours?”

He shook his head. “Nay, I know not. My father and brother were dark like me.”

“Geoffrey? Do you think…”

He peeped over her hand at the fine blond fuzz that covered her son’s head. The small babe opened his eyes long enough to look at her, yawn, and settle back to sleep. Long enough to see
that his eyes were a deep, murky blue. A blue that might even turn brown one day.

“Aye. I think it may be.” A pang rippled through his chest. He had so wanted a son. But God knew Thomas needed one more. “Time may tell for sure, but the babe is small and blond.” He ran a hand through his hair and nodded. “’Tis my belief he is Thomas’s son.”