MORGAN
EPILOGUE
December roared in with a vicious storm, which blanketed the earth in snow and made the trip from Salisbury somewhat treacherous. As was the custom, the married Brethren gathered at Chichester Castle, whither it all began, to convey the news of the next Nautionnier Knight to wed. Given only one unattached man remained, it was not difficult to discern for whom the wedding bell tolled.
“Hawisia, my love.” Morgan sat beside her, on the mattress, and rubbed the back of his finger to her cheek. “Darling, it is time to wake and dine, as Geoffrey must be led to his doom.”
“That is not funny.” Stretching, she yawned and rested her palm to his thigh. “Come back to bed, my love.”
“Sweetheart, if you do not get up, we will be late.” He bent and pressed his lips to her protruding belly. “Shall I help you dress?”
“I prefer it when you undress me.” She giggled and sat upright. “But, if you insist, I suppose I should avail myself of your assistance.”
“Ah, you make it difficult to resist you, when you are so accommodating.” As she scooted to the edge of the bed, he balanced her, when she stood. “Yet, you should eat something, as you know I worry about you.”
“My love, I am fine.” Despite her reassurances, he fretted for her health, in the wake of her illness, which almost took her from him. “Now, whither is the blue dress?”
“Hawisia, as much as I love you, you cannot wear that gown, because it will not fit your temporary addition.” He framed her protuberance with his hands and chuckled. “Mayhap a sheet will suffice.”
“Oh, horrid man.” She pouted, and he pinched her bottom. “You would not speak so casually if you bore the children in this family.”
“There is a reason Our Lord blessed you with the singular ability, because women are the stronger of the sexes, and I will argue that with anyone.” How so much changed in a year, as they had grown close as a couple. And while their marriage was not perfect, it was far more perfect than he ever thought possible. “What about your green kirtle and cotehardie? I can loosen the laces, so you will be more comfortable.”
“All right.” Crestfallen, Hawisia raised her arms, so he could remove her nightgown, and he took the opportunity to kiss each pert nipple.
Once he had her garbed, he knelt as she sat, so he could pull on her hose, and then he eased on her slippers.
“There.” Holding her hands, he drew her from the chair. “Hmm. Your attire is lacking, my love.” From beneath his tunic, Morgan pulled a small bundle, which he presented to his wife. “I think this is just what you need.”
“Morgan, what have you done?” She arched a brow.
“For you, my love.” When she unfolded the cloth, she discovered the diamond necklace he selected from the dungeon, and he took the jewelry from her grasp, to fasten the sparkling gems about her neck. “Do you like it?”
“Wherefore do you buy these things, when I love you without them?” With a sniff, she favored him with a tender kiss. “I would rather spend our eventide, hither, just the two of us, that I might show my appreciation of your gift.”
“My darling wife, proof of your appreciation precedes you.” He pointed at her belly. “But we must join the others in Arucard’s solar.”
After a few turns and a stroll down a long passageway, they arrived at the lord and lady’s suite. Given the doors stood open, they entered, to find Isolde, Athelyna, and Dionysia fussing over the meal and seating arrangements.
“Hawisia.” Isolde paused and hugged Morgan’s bride. “I was going to wait until we were ready to be seated, before we disturbed you, as you arrived only last night, and you need your rest.”
“But I feel fine.” Hawisia hugged her protrusion. “And I would assist you in any way I can.”
“You will do naught of the sort.” Athelyna took Hawisia by the hand and led her to a chair. “Everything is prepared, so you need but enjoy yourself, dear sister.”
“Aristide and I were so thrilled to learn of your happy news.” Dionysia kissed Hawisia’s cheek. “And you look beauteous.”
“Well, can we sup, as I am on the verge of eating my toenails?” Aristide strode into the room. “Good eventide, Morgan.”
“Indeed, Aristide is right.” Demetrius filed into the solar. “Whither is Geoffrey?”
“I am not sure.” Arucard scratched his chin and studied the familiar rolled parchment, which would reveal the next lucky lady to enter the Brethren. “But I sent Pellier to summon Geoffrey.”
Just then, Pellier ran into the solar. “My lord, Sir Geoffrey is gone.”
“Not again.” Arucard pounded the table. “He made it halfway to Winchester before we ran him aground the last time.”
“Oh, dear.” As Morgan prepared to join the hunt for their missing brother, Hawisia scrunched her face. When she stood from the chair, some sort of liquid pooled at her feet.
“The baby is coming.” Isolde snapped her fingers. “Quick, Athelyna, get the physic.”
Caught in the middle, Morgan glanced at Arucard and then at Hawisia, and there was no choice. “Brother, I am sorry, but you will have to find Geoffrey without me, as it appears I am about to become a father.”