Free Word of Honor (Knights of Valor Book 1) by Lauren Linwood

family at Kinwick Castle had never been
close to that at Winterbourne, so any contact was out of the ordinary. Merryn
accepted the letter Elia handed her since her mother-in-law had never learned
her letters. She opened it and scanned it quickly.
    “It seems
Lord Berold has passed on. A funeral mass is scheduled on the morrow, and the
new earl would have us attend.” She thought a moment. “What was the boy’s name?
I saw him, years ago.”
    Merryn
remembered the exact occasion. They had gone to Winterbourne to search for any
news of Geoffrey. Lord Berold had briefly introduced the boy, who’d slipped
from the room. She had supposed he was the shy sort.
    “Hardwin,”
Elia replied. “I remember names if not faces. And the boy is a man now. He’s to
be married soon, or so I’m told.”
    ***
    They sat in
the chapel at Winterbourne. Merryn found it odd the two families so rarely had
contact. They were the closest neighbors to Kinwick, even closer than her own
family at Wellbury to the south—yet no ties kept them in touch.
    She glanced
over at Hugh, handsome as always. Milla sat on his other side. As usual in
springtime, her nose dripped and was red in color. Her eyes watered constantly
as she dabbed at them. Merryn so wished for them to have children. She prayed
for that every morning at mass.
    And for
Geoffrey to come home to her.
    Her
attention turned to the new earl. She barely recognized Hardwin from her last
glimpse of him all those years ago. He’d grown slightly taller, but his body
had filled out. His face had also matured. She hoped they would be able to
share a word of comfort with him once the funeral mass ended.
    Merryn’s
mind wandered as the proceedings went on. She wondered if she should have had
some kind of mass for Geoffrey. It was so hard. He was neither alive nor dead,
almost as if he’d been in a Purgatory all these years.
    Just as she
had.
    Yet in her
heart, Merryn believed she would have sensed his death. No inkling of that ever
came to her. Others might call her foolish, but she had faith that one day
Geoffrey would walk through the doors of the Great Hall, and all would be well
again.
    She pinched
herself, forcing the fantasy to fade. She had to prepare herself for the king’s
upcoming visit.
    And make a
decision regarding Sir Symond Benedict.
    Mass ended.
She’d heard there would be food and drink offered afterward for those in
attendance, but she was in no mood to stay.
    She leaned
toward her brother. “Let us go offer our condolences to the new earl and be
off.”
    He nodded
and escorted her and Milla toward Hardwin. As they drew closer, the earl looked
up. Their eyes met, and he gave her a slight nod.
    They
reached him and exchanged pleasantries and then told him of their sorrow for
his loss.
    “You
understand loss, my lady,” Hardwin said, his eyes locking on hers.
    His words
took her aback, but she recovered. “Yes. I do. Not a day goes by that I don’t
wish for my husband to be back at my side.” She fingered her brooch absently.
    “’Tis a
lovely piece you wear,” the nobleman told her. “Are those sapphires?”
    “Yes.
Geoffrey found it for me in France. ‘Twas his wedding gift to me.” Her eyes
closed for a minute, and she was back in the moment when he presented it to her.
She opened them again, forcing herself back into reality.
    “We must be
off, my lord. Please let us know if there is anything we may do for you.”
    His gaze
held hers. “Thank you, Lady Merryn. And mayhap one day I can return the favor.”
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER 12
     
    “Nine
hundred ninety-nine. One thousand.”
    Geoffrey dropped
his arm. He’d finished rubbing his shackled right hand against the stone wall
the prescribed thousand times. He did this each day with both his cuffed wrists
and ankles, hoping to wear through the iron.
    He never
did.
    But it was
part of his routine. Routine helped keep him sane.
    He moved
his limbs