The Falls of Erith (50 page)

“Look
at you,” she gasped, gazing up into her daughter’s rosy face. “Are you well,
sweetheart? How do you feel?”

“She
is fine,” Dallas was standing at the edge of the wagon, beaming from ear to
ear. “She eats more than I do, runs around like a madwoman, and refuses to slow
down. I have my hands full with her.  She is as healthy as a horse.”

Gray
laughed softly, tears finding their way onto her cheeks as she returned her
gaze to her daughter.  “You really should ease up,” she said softly. “You must
take care of yourself and my grandchild.”

Brooke
waved her off, peering at the tow-headed baby in Gray’s arms. “I am fine, truly,”
she smiled at the round-cheeked, blue-eyed infant. “Oh, Mama, he is wonderful. 
He looks just like Braxton. What is his name?”

Gray
looked down at the baby, cuddled and content in her arms.  “Meet your brother,”
she murmured, stroking the velvety cheek. “This is Deston de Nerra, a big and
healthy boy who very nearly drained the life from me.”

Brooke
was cooing and touching the infant, who smiled back at her.  She crowed in
delight. “He is beautiful! Can I hold him?”

By
this time, Braxton and Dallas had moved to the side of the wagon where the
women were sitting.  Dallas helped his wife to sit on her bottom while Gray
handed the baby over to her.  Brooke happily cuddled the boy with the
white-blond hair.

“He
is so sweet,” she crooned, then looked to her mother. “Is this why you were so
sick?”

Gray
nodded, peeling back the swaddling from the baby’s head and exposing him to the
warm sunlight. “He made me ill day and night,” she replied. “I could not eat
and could barely keep water down.  He was just starting to announce himself
when the Gloucester soldiers took us from Creekmere and when I fought with
them, I very nearly killed myself from the strain. “

Brooked
nodded in understanding, turning back to look at the baby. “It makes sense
now,” she said. “But why did you not send word to us before now? We did not
know if you or Braxton were dead or alive.”

Braxton’s
big hand came to rest on Gray’s shoulder. “Your mother was quite ill for the
duration of the pregnancy,” he said. “I spent my time at Elswick keeping both
myself and your mother alive. I could not attempt escape because she could not
be moved, so my only choice was to stay with her. Moreover, I did not have the
type of relationship with de Milne where the man would allow me to send
missives; we were, essentially, prisoners. But that all changed when Deston was
born.  De Milne’s wife, who helped me tend your mother for the duration of her
pregnancy, convinced her husband to let us leave.  As soon as your mother was
strong enough and the baby old enough, we did.”

It
explained a great deal.  Brooke realized she wasn’t perturbed about it any
longer; she was just grateful to have her mother and Braxton back.  All of the
anguish and grief she felt over the past year suddenly vanished as she gazed at
her mother.

“I
am so glad you have come home,” she looked at Braxton. “It simply was not the
same without you.”

Braxton
kissed his wife. “I have always been a wealthy man,” he said softly, his gaze
moving to his beloved son, the one he had seen once reflected in Gray’s eyes.
“But suppose I never truly understood what it was to be truly rich.  If
happiness and a family makes a man rich, then I am indeed the richest man in
the world.”

Dallas
clapped him on the shoulder. “You are very rich,” he agreed. “And we are glad
to have our liege back.”

Braxton
wriggled his eyebrows. “My time in captivity has taught me something, Dallas,”
he looked at the young man. “It has taught me that it is my time in life now to
enjoy my wife and children and leave the warring to the younger men. I have put
in my time as a knight and commander; now it is my time to enjoy the fruits of
my labor.”

Brooke
looked at Braxton. “Dallas has been commanding your army for the past year. He
has done a wonderful job.  He has made a lot of money.”

Braxton
grinned. “And he can keep on commanding it, for I am going to stay home and
grow fat and lazy with my wife by my side.”

Brooke
laughed softly, returning her attention to the infant in her arms. She kissed
his little cheek happily.

“I
have never had a brother,” she murmured, watching the baby grin. “Welcome home,
Deston. Soon you will have a little playmate.”

And
soon he did. Fat, healthy Matthew Aston was born on a cool September night, so
easily that it was over almost before it began. Brooke hardly broke a sweat
while her husband’s light-headed reaction was decidedly different. The
following year, Deston was joined by brother Auston and Matthew was joined by
twins Andrew and Alexandra. Erith, once a place of doom and hopelessness, was
now a place with joy and children. The old de Montfort castle began to live
again.

Life
went on. Dallas went on to assume the mantle of commander of Braxton’s army but
with three little ones at home, he mostly sent Geoff and Niclas out instead,
carrying on the legacy of the great de Nerra mercenary army. Like Braxton,
Dallas wanted to watch his children grow up.  In the years to come, he and
Braxton would sit in the great hall of Erith before a roaring blaze, watching
five tow-headed youngsters play and grow, thinking that these were the best
years of their lives.  But then Deston would clobber Matthew, Auston and Andrew
would squabble, and screams would fill the air. After the fathers broke up the
fights, they still thought it was the best time of their lives. There was no
doubt about it.  

 Sometimes,
when all was still and peaceful and the children were in bed, they would
discuss that day at the falls of Erith that changed their lives forever.  A
happenstance on that day turned out to be platform through which greater things
were achieved.  Dallas admitted once that he thought, as he held tight to the
girl clinging precariously on the wet rocks, that he was certain he would lose
his grip on her.  He even remembered at the time feeling her wet flesh slip
away from him, increment by increment, and thought for certain that her life
was about to end. 

But
it didn’t end. He had no idea at the time that his, in fact, had just begun.

ABOUT
THE AUTHOR

Kathryn
Le Veque has always been a writer.  From her first ‘book’ at the age of 13,
Kathryn has been writing prolifically.  A strong interest in History and
adventure has added to her stories, most of which take place in the Plantagenet
period of England.  She also writes contemporary romance and adventure, as
evidenced in the Kathlyn Trent/Marcus Burton Adventure/Romance Series.

When
Kathryn isn’t writing, she is volunteering her time with the local high school
as the booster president, gardening, golfing, or watching old black and white
movies.  Her daughter, currently in college, is following in her mother’s
footsteps with a love of creative writing and Medieval History.

Visit
Kathryn’s website at
www.kathrynleveque.com
for more novels and ordering information.