Bretton smiled at her. “I got my father back, too,” he said, stroking her dark head. “I cannot say what manner of relationship we will have, but I intend to try and forge one. He is my father, after all. I feel… I feel as if I have been given a second chance with him, even if he doesn’t remember me. I am going to do my best to help him try.”
Allaston agreed, noting that Rod and John Morgan were now leaving the kitchen yard, having tied Teague up to one of the supporting posts that held up the kitchen roof. The man was bound and gagged, ridiculously so, and Rod grinned brightly at Allaston as he walked past her.
“I kicked him a few times for you, my lady,” he said, leaning his head in the direction of Teague. “I even pinched his neck for good measure.”
Allaston giggled at him. “I think I am going to like you, cousin Rod.”
Rod winked at her boldly, his gaze moving to his cousin. His expression softened as he beheld the man and, after a moment, he reached out to lay a hand on Bretton’s broad shoulder.
“Welcome back from the dead, cousin,” he exclaimed. “I am very glad to have you back.”
Bretton softened toward his cousin, a man who had been so happy upon their first meeting to see him alive. Bretton hadn’t been very nice about it. Now, he was feeling the same joy that Rod had felt. Before Rod could get away, he grasped him and pulled him into a tight embrace, reaffirming bonds that had been shattered those years ago. Now, the bonds were being re-forged, stronger than before.
“I am glad to be back,” he said softly as he released the man.
Rod was grinning from ear to ear as he walked away, heading back to the bailey where the rest of the de Lohr and de Velt men were gathering. Behind him trailed John Morgan, a big man with a battered head, and Bretton watched the man as he walked away, feeling a mixture of joy and sorrow in his heart. His father didn’t know him now, but soon he would. Bretton vowed this to be true. He was just about to turn to Allaston when John Morgan came to a sudden halt, paused, and retraced his steps to Bretton. He stood there a moment, looking at the man, as Bretton returned his stare curiously.
“Is something the matter, John Morgan?” he asked.
The man stood there a moment, seemingly confused. When he finally looked up and fixed Bretton in the eye, there was something there, something more than just cursory recognition.
“Bretton,” he finally said in his raspy voice, one that sounded very much like his son’s tone. “Your name is Bretton.”
Bretton nodded encouragingly. “It is.”
John Morgan’s mouth worked as if he was trying very hard to say something, words that he couldn’t quite bring forth. Finally, he spit them out.
“Bee,” he muttered. “Your name… it used to be Bee.”
Bretton’s breath caught in his throat and tears came to his eyes as he gazed back at the man he loved with all his heart. Once, there had only been his father in his world, a man who was bigger to him than a mountain. His life that was and would be again. He swallowed the lump in his throat.
“Aye,” Bretton breathed. “You used to call me Bee when I was small.”
A twinkle came to John Morgan’s brilliant blue eyes. “I… remember.”
Bretton started laughing. They were the sweetest words he had ever heard.
EPILOGUE
Year of Our Lord 1206 A.D.
Month of May
Pelinom Castle, Northumberland
The wedding dresswas pink and Kellington had been extravagant with it. The train was twelve feet long, embroidered by Kellington, Allaston, Effington, and Addington as sort of a group project of the mother and daughters. While Kellington had been very specific on the designs, which were to be hummingbirds, flowers, and angels, Effington, the best embroiderer out of the group, and also the jokester, had stitched two small cherubs with big buttocks that she had tinged red right at the tip of the train. Addington had been in on the joke but she had kept her mouth shut, and the sisters had embroidered beautiful vines and flowers all around, so much so that Kellington hadn’t see the cheeky cherubs until the day of the wedding. Mother exploded, and Addie and Effie ran to their father for protection after that, which he struggled to give. There was no holding off an angry mother.
Allaston, however, had grinned at her sisters’ naughtiness and she had calmed her mother down about it. It didn’t really matter in the long run and the cherubswerebeautifully done. Dressing in the pink silk gown with the rounded neckline, long belled sleeves, and snug bodice, Allaston had looked like a goddess in spite of the cherubs with the red buttocks lining her train. When Jax came to get her in her bower to take her to the carriage, the one that would take her into town to St. Peter’s Church where her wedding to Bretton would take place promptly at Vespers, he had to fight off the tears. His first born daughter was all grown up.
Addington and Effington were dressed in blue silk to complement their sister, with a band of small white roses around their heads, in contrast to their dark hair. The older brothers, Coleby and Julian, were dressed in their knightly finest while Cassian, the youngest son, had been brought home from fostering at Alnwick Castle for the event of his sister’s wedding. He was dressed like a proper young master. In all, the entire family was lavishly dressed for the occasion, one that had particularly poignant meaning to Kellington because she and Jax had been married under very simple circumstances– a church, two priests, and no celebration. Kellington very much wanted a celebration for her daughter. After the events of the previous year, there was much to celebrate.
But there was also much to be irritated over. Every time Allaston moved, the train of the dress would move, and Kellington would start fussing over the big-buttocked cherubs and Addington and Effington would try to cower behind their sister, the bride. Jax, riding next to the carriage in his finest, spent the majority of the ride into town trying to soothe his wife.
The wedding for Lady Allaston de Velt and Bretton de Llion had brought allies and friends alike to St. Peter’s Church and the town was full of families in their finery and knights of opposinghouses. Christopher de Lohr was there with his brood, as was Keller de Poyer, Berwyn de Llion, Rod and Rod’s entire family including his mother and father, as well as Yves de Vesci, Earl of Northumberland, and John Morgan, who was going by Morgan de Llion these days. It was this group that greeted the de Velt party as they rode into town, and the entire town of Coldstream had turned out for the spectacle. It wasn’t often they saw finery, of great nobility, like this.
Christopher was outside of the church, watching his children play on the stoop, as Jax and his party drew near. He went out to greet Jax personally, and the man climbed off his horse to shake his friend’s hand. Edward and Max had come also, moving forward to greet de Velt, as Bretton and Rod, on the other side of the street, moved forward to help the ladies from the carriage.
Bretton’s heart was thumping loudly against his ribs at the sight of Allaston in her pink silk. She looked like an angel. Rather than helping her down to the road, which was muddy and filthy, he lifted her into his arms, train and all, and carried her into the church. That left Rod with seventeen year old Effington and fifteen year old Addington, who were gazing at the blue-eyed, black-haired knight as if he were Adonis himself.
