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

they had.
    Sometimes,
he allowed Merryn to go with him. They would walk hand in hand through the
castle, exploring various rooms. She would take him to where the healer had
gathered different herbs and describe to him what each could do for an ailment.
They would go down to the stables and feed Mystery and Destiny some treat
before they went riding.
    He loved
having them ride together through the meadow or woods. Sometimes, he took them
to visit Hugh at Wellbury. He even imagined a bride for Hugh and let them
witness the wedding. He danced with Merryn in his arms, then raised a cup toasting
her beauty and wit.
    And on very
special occasions, he would allow himself to remember what it was like to make
love with his wife. He relived the night of their marriage over and over again.
Touching her silken hair. Stroking the smooth curve of her hip. Entering her
and bringing her to the heights of pleasure.
    Geoffrey never
thought of the hunting lodge.
    He’d wanted
it to be their special place. To have them spend a week at the small cottage.
But after what had happened there, he couldn’t bring himself to dwell on it.
    His stomach
grumbled noisily. Berold had not come for some time. He couldn’t remember what
feast might be celebrated above stairs.
    And a part
of him feared that the earl might not ever come back. That he would slowly
starve to death.
    But he
would die with Merryn’s name on his lips.
    Wait.
    The faint
noise he’d grown to know so well. Berold—or possibly Hardi—opened the door at
the top of the stairs. Within minutes, he would either glare at the earl or
enjoy a bit of conversation with the madman’s son.
    The
footsteps. The growing light of someone holding a torch. Then Hardi arrived. He
placed the torch in an empty sconce and moved toward the cell doors.
    “Here. I
think you will like this.” He tossed something in. Geoffrey caught it.
    Goose. He
hadn’t had goose in some time. His stomach rumbled in need and approval.
Without speaking, he bit into the meat. Though he wanted to devour it, he took
his time and chewed slowly, relishing the taste.
    Hardi
watched him silently. When he’d finished, he tossed an apple and a half loaf of
bread into the cell, along with several slices of cheese. It must be a feast
day. He rarely ate this well.
    He finished
the meal. “Thank you, Hardi,” he said simply.
    Hardi did
not speak. That was unusual. Usually, he was quite talkative. Something must be
different. Something had happened.
    Finally,
the words came. “I’m sorry no one came for a few days. Father . . . Father is
gone. He clutched his chest and collapsed. Nothing could be done. He’s dead.”
    Geoffrey
froze, hearing the words he’d long to be uttered. A mix of joy and fear swept
through him.
    Hardi was the
new earl of Winterbourne. He could choose to free him. Or would he remain a
prisoner?
    “I am sorry
for what Father did to you, Geoffrey. He was wrong. I hope to be a better man
in many ways.” He paused. “That’s why I want to do the right thing now.”
    Geoffrey
tamped down the hope that rose. He couldn’t take any more disappointment. He rested
his chained wrists atop his bent knees.
    And waited.
    He saw
Hardi struggled with what he wanted to say. He paced the space in front of the
cell, his hands behind his back. Geoffrey let him work out whatever demons he
struggled with. He tried to make his mind a blank, thinking of nothing.
    And yet
everything flooded through him. Images rapidly danced before his eyes. Longing
swept through him, piercing his soul.
    And still,
he waited.
    Hardi
halted and locked his fingers around the iron bars of the cell. Geoffrey saw
that he’d arrived at his decision.
    “I cannot
honor Father’s memory by keeping you confined any longer. Fortunately, he never
made me swear a blood oath to him that I would continue in this duty.” His nose
turned up in a sneer. “He never questioned that I would oppose him. He ordered
me to keep up the practice after his death.