PART TWO
HIS ROSE
Tall, handsome, blond, and blue-eyed, James de Wolfe was in the stableyard on this bright winter’s day, watching a groom lead a very young Belgian warmblood around the yard. This was his new horse, one he intended to train for battle, because the beast came from fine bloodlines and was strong and spirited. But the stablemaster thought the horse had a bad hip because of the way he tended to stand, so James was watching the horse as it was walked around the yard, listening to the stablemaster tell him why the horse’s gait was odd.
It wasn’t exactly the type of activity a groom should be doing only a few hours before his wedding, but James wasn’t even sure he would be married today considering how heavy the snow was. The roads were piled high with the stuff, making it very difficult to travel, and his brothers had departed for Kelso yesterday and still hadn’t returned. A trip like that normally took a morning to complete, there and back. Therefore, James wasn’t entirely sure when the marriage would take place. Spending time in the stable was simply a way of burning off his anxiety.
He was rather eager to marry his Rose.
As he stood there and watched the horse walk by, Kevin Hage and Andreas de Wolfe entered the stableyard and demanded their horses. Big, muscular Kevin was James’ cousin while Andreas was his nephew, eldest son of his brother, Troy.
James merely waved at the pair as they collected their horses and raced off just as William entered the yard. He then glanced over at his father, wrapped up in heavy tunics and a woolen cloak that, as he came closer, appeared to be soaking wet. James frowned.
“Why are you all wet?” he asked the man. “You’d better take that cloak off before Mother sees you. After the lung sickness you had last year, you should know better.”
William simply grinned at his son; the man was still tall, dark, and handsome, even in his advancing years, and he was still powerful enough that most men couldn’t best him in battle. The legendary Wolfe of the Border was still a force to be reckoned with, except when it came to his wife. She was the one force that could overpower his own, so he took his son’s statement seriously.
“We were playing in the snow,” he said. “By the way – Rosie can throw a snowball that can disable a grown man, so I would be careful if I were you should she throw anything at you.”
James chuckled. “She already has,” he said. “I am fast enough to dodge it, fortunately.”
William’s eyebrows lifted. “Do you mean to say you are making the woman angry enough to throw something at you and you aren’t even married yet?”
James began to laugh; it was one of his personality traits, this impish laugh that would easily come over him.
“It takes very little to make her angry,” he said. “She is much like her mother in that respect, but I have learned well from Uncle Kieran. He tells me that the angrier she becomes, the more groveling I must do.”
“Is that so?”
“It is. He also says to spank her when all else fails.”
Now, William started to chuckle. “He is a very wise man,” he said. “And speaking of wise men, I came to tell you that we believe your brothers have been sighted in the distance. With the clearness of the day, they are still a mile or so out, but we can easily see them against the white landscape. We are watching the approach now.”
James felt both relief and excitement at that statement. “So they made it, did they?” he said. “I was coming to wonder if they would.”
William nodded, seeing the pleasure in his son’s face. It was sweet, really; James was very much in love with the spirited Rose, a love story they’d all watched unfold for the past two years, ever since Rose began to blossom into a woman and grew past the phase where she would rather punch a boy than be nice to him.
James was several years older than Rose was and only knew her as that rough-and-tumble little girl, but when she’d hit her sixteenth birthday, something changed – suddenly, rough-and-tumble Rosie became curvaceous, beautiful Rosie and James wasn’t blind to the fact. A sweet romance had blossomed from the seeds of friendship and, now, Rose and James were about to embark on their married lives together.
William couldn’t have been happier.
“You were not the only one questioning whether or not they would arrive,” he said to his son. “Kieran and some of the others were talking about heading out to find them.”
James shook his head. “Uncle Kieran should not be exerting himself like that,” he said. “You know what the physic said.”
William sobered dramatically; he didn’t like to be reminded of his dearest friend’s health problem. “I do,” he said. “Luckily, we do not have to worry about him overextending himself. But… there is something I want to say to you before your brothers arrive with the priest. After that, I fear I might not have another chance before Rosie takes you away from me.”
James turned to his father, a smile playing on his lips. “What about, Papa?” he asked. “The ways of men and women? You are too late. I already know what I am supposed to do on my wedding night.”
William chuckled. “Bloody hell, who told you? Was it Paris? Whatever he told you is a lie. Women do not like to be tied down and spanked.”
James couldn’t stop laughing. “That is not what he told me they liked.”
“What was it, then?”
“If I tell you, you will only punch him.”
“I may punch him still. What did he tell you, James?”
James knew the two older knights would go at it, genuinely, if William was mad enough, so he put his hands on his father to calm the man down. “He only told me to be patient,” he said. “I swear it. Now, what did you want to tell me, Papa?”
William looked at his son; he was his fourth son, the twin to his first daughter, Katheryn. When the pair had been born, James had struggled for his first few weeks, fighting to live. He didn’t eat well and slept constantly, and William remembered the very real fear of losing his child. But the infant had lived and, eventually, thrived. Today, he was one of the finest and most powerful knights the north had ever seen.
But it was more than that for William – James didn’t have the fiery passion about battle and warfare that his older three had. Scott, Troy, and Patrick were the consummate knights, living and breathing battle. James could match any of his brothers’ prowess in a fight, but he had something more that they didn’t – compassion for the enemy, a deep compassion that, at times, had turned him into a brooding and moody man. James felt more deeply than most, was more patient than Job himself, and would much rather negotiate his way out of a fight than quickly draw arms. They were such wonderful qualities and William adored his boy for them. He had a soft spot for James and his wise, gentle ways.
What did he want to tell him? Gazing into his handsome face, there were so many things that came to mind. He’d had to have this same talk with Scott, Troy, and Patrick before their weddings but, somehow with James, it was different. He just wanted to hug the man and hold him close. After a moment, he put a hand on his son’s shoulder.
“I wanted to tell you how proud I am of the man you have become,” he said, suddenly feeling a lump in his throat where, moments before, there had been laughter. “After today, you will go forth to become the head of your own family, and I want to tell you how proud I am of you. I have watched a skinny, pale young man with a silly giggle grow into a man of such character and strength. It has been a privilege watching you become the man I see before me, James. I wanted you to know that.”
James hasn’t expected those words from his father. In fact, he began to tear up and, by the time William was finished, he threw his arms around his father’s neck and hugged him tightly. For a moment, he simply couldn’t speak.
“I love you, Da,” he said hoarsely. “You are the greatest man I have ever known, the man I most wish to emulate. Know that I will do my best to always be like you and to always honor you and the de Wolfe name. I shall not fail, I swear it, nor will any of my sons. We will all make you proud.”
He released his father and saw that William was wiping away his own tears. William cupped James’ head in his big hands, gazing deep into those sky-blue eyes. He’d always joked with his wife about James’ coloring, a blond-haired, blue-eyed child in a family full of dark-haired people. He would tease Jordan and tell her that James must have been fathered by a passing Viking, but the truth was that James’ features mirrored William’s. He looked very much like his father. William kissed his son on the cheek and forced a smile as he dropped his hands.
“There is nothing you could do to dishonor the de Wolfe name,” he said. “You are my son and I shall always be proud of you. Now, as for your wedding night, I am afraid that I can only tell you what Paris has told you – to be patient, be kind, and be understanding. Rosie is much like her mother in that she is rather highly-strung, so you are simply going to have to be as kind and gentle as you can be.”
James’ grin returned. “That is exactly what Uncle Kieran said,” he said. Then, he hesitated a moment before continuing. “Besides… I am not entirely sure if I should tell you this, but Rosie will not be nervous.”
He was looking at his father rather knowingly and William understood the implication immediately. William fought off a grin at his rather naughty and amorous son.
“Whatever you do, do not tell your Uncle Kieran that,” he grunted. “She is his daughter, after all. Up until you marry her, it is still his duty to defend her honor and I am not entirely sure you would survive his wrath.”
James’ laughter returned. “I did not tell you simply to boast, Da,” he said. “I told you that for a reason. In seven months, when Rosie gives birth to my son, I will have to ask you to intercede on my behalf with Uncle Kieran. That may be the wrath you are speaking of.”
William’s eyes widened. “She… she is with child, lad?”
“She is.”
William’s jaw dropped. At first, he was genuinely shocked. But after a split-second, he threw his arms around his son and hugged the man tightly.
“That is the greatest gift I could receive this Christmas season,” he said, releasing the grinning man. “I am genuinely thrilled, James. May I tell your mother?”
James shook his head. “Nay, for she will tell Aunt Jemma, and Aunt Jemma will tell Kieran,” he said. “I do not wish to defend myself from him until it is absolutely necessary.”
William understood. “It will be difficult to keep that secret, but I shall honor your wishes,” he said. But he was quite elated about it. “Mayhap you should put your horse away and we will go into the bailey and stop your future wife from exerting herself. She is carrying a de Wolfe heir, after all.”
James grabbed hold of his father as the man turned for the bailey. “Nay, Da,” he said. “If you try to stop her from playing, she’ll know I have told you, and then I will have to defend myself from her. That is not something I wish to do on my wedding night.”
William relented. “Very well,” he said. “I will not say a word, but I must leave you now and find Penelope. Kieran hit her in the head with a snowball and got snow in her ear. She swears she is going to die from it.”
James simply shook his head at his overprotective father, at least when it came to Penelope. Everyone knew how the man coddled her. Therefore, James waved the man on just as Rose entered the stableyard in search of her betrothed. James was certain from the way his father hugged Rose that the woman would suspect that William knew of their little secret, but she didn’t seem suspicious. She seemed very touched by his display of affection. As William left the yard, Rose turned to James.
“What is the matter with your father today?” she asked. “He seems very emotional.”
James smiled at her. “Of course he is emotional,” he said. “His favorite son is marrying. Why shouldn’t he be emotional?”
Rose laughed softly, looking very much like her mother in that action. Petite, with big breasts, Rose Elizabeth Scott Hage was a vibrant and lovely woman with dark hair, pale skin, and delicate features. She had a smile that lit up the heavens as far as James was concerned.
“I suppose I understand,” she said. “My father is the same way. He cannot look at me and not get teary-eyed today.”
Reaching out, James put his arms around Rose, pulling her up against him. She felt warm and soft in his arms, a contentment that filled him like nothing else. His Rose.
“I have heard, from no one in particular, that you are throwing snowballs quite viciously,” he said.
Rose wrapped her arms around his waist, her strong young knight. “Who is telling such lies?”
“I said it was no one in particular.”
Her eyes narrowed at him. “It was your father, wasn’t it? He told you because I hit Penelope twice, rather hard.”
“She deserved it.”
“She hit me in the face.”
James chuckled. “The nasty wench! Shall I punish her for you?”
Rose hugged him tightly, giggling. “You would have to go through your father to do that, and he would not acquiesce easily,” she said. “Nay, leave it be. I will get Penelope someday when she least expects it.”
“Do not forget that she knows how to use a sword.”
“So do I.”
James laughed at the mental image. “Now, that is something I would pay money to see. That shall be great entertainment, watching you two face off.”
“I shall win, too.”
“Of that, I have no doubt,” he said, giving her a squeeze and a kiss.
The stable boy came around yet again, leading a horse James was no longer looking at, and he motioned for the boy to return the horse to his stall. When the lad moved to take the fat, lazy horse back to its food and bedding, James took Rose by the hand and began to lead her out of the stableyard.
“I have heard that my brothers have been sighted,” he told her. “Did you hear that, also?”
Rose nodded, clutching his hand tightly. “I did,” she said. “Some of the younger men ran out to meet them; Kevin and Andreas, in fact.”
She was speaking of her brother, Kevin Hage, and of Troy’s eldest teenage son, Andreas. James nodded.
“I saw them take their horses,” he said. “I did not realize where they were going.”
Rose squeezed his hand. “Are you nervous?”
He looked at her, frowning. “What about?”
She grinned that toothy grin. “Marrying me,” she said. “You cannot refuse, you know. If you do, I will tell my father that you ravaged me and forced me to bear your child.”
His eyes flew up in mock outrage. “You wicked minx,” he said. “Would you really tell him that?”
“Aye.”
“Then know I am not afraid of your father. Well, not much.”
“Shall we tell him our secret now, then?”
James grunted. “Hell, no,” he said. “I do not want to be bruised and bleeding when we are married.”
Rose laughed as they emerged out into the bright, snow-filled bailey. “I would not want you to be bruised and bleeding, either,” she said. Then, she sobered as she gazed up at him, great longing in her expression. “Tell me it will always be like this, James.”
He looked at her. “Like what?”
She shrugged, clinging to his hand. “That we will always laugh with one another,” she said. “That we will always have these feelings for one another. I will love you until I die and I never want to feel any differently.”
He paused, gazing down into her young, sweet face. “You will never feel any differently,” he assured her softly. “Nor will I. I will love you until I die and beyond. You must remember that. You are my Rose and always will be.”
A smile creased her lips as she smiled. James lifted her hands, kissing them tenderly, but was prevented from doing anything more when a commotion at the gatehouse caught his attention. It seemed that his brothers and cousins had, indeed, returned, bringing not one priest with them but two.
After that, the inhabitants of Castle Questing seemed to fly into a frenzy, for a wedding was swiftly approaching now that the officiants had finally arrived.
It would be the most wonderful Christmas ever.