At last, the ending is posted. My thanks to everyone who has stayed with this story. My apologies for the many delays in seeing it completed, but I hope you enjoy this finale. There may be some slight changes made when I begin the edit, and if you have any thoughts, feel free to share them. (But please be kind. )
Enjoy! :)
*****
May, 1214
The spring air surrounding the Gisborne estate was so sweet.
Isabella closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the heady scent of orange
blossoms and jasmine. So many times, she had dreamed of coming home to this
wonderful place. Though they did not reside at the manor all of the time, they
were frequent visitors, and to return after being away for a time was always a
delight.
Sebastian had found a stable and loving home there, where he
continued his schooling and knightly duties, and it warmed Isabella’s heart to
know that he was not so far away. She could hardly wait to see him again, along
with the rest of the family, and she smiled as she looked out the window
opening, seeing Lady Cassia waiting for them in the courtyard. Dear Cassia.
More like her beloved friend than her mother-in-law. After they had stepped
down to the walk, Cassia greeted them both with her usual love.
“At last, you arrive,” she said with a smile. She placed a kiss
on Isabella’s cheek. “We have been waiting.”
Owen embraced her. “Hello, Mama.”
She smiled at him, kissing both his cheeks. “I am so happy to
see you again. It has been much too long.”
Turning to Isabella, Cassia’s lips curled into an eager smile.
“So, tell me,” she said. “Are you to make me a grandmother at last? Your letter
indicated the possibility. So tell me. I must know.”
Isabella smiled, hesitating for a moment as Cassia clasped her
hands. They had tried for a baby, hoping and praying that God would bless them
with a son or daughter. But time had flown, and no child had come.
Broken-hearted, they had all but given up the possibility of parenthood.
Until recently.
To Cassia’s question, Isabella nodded. The result was a squeal
of delight, and Isabella found herself laughing as she was gripped in a tight
hug. Cassia turned her excitement to Owen, kissing him again and again as happy
tears rolled down her cheeks. Her exclamation was punctuated with sniffles. “My
baby boy, soon to become a father! Wait until your Papa hears of this news!”
Wearing a delighted smiled, Owen looked around. “By and by,
where is he? I expected to see him at your side.”
Cassia’s expression sobered slightly as she led Owen and
Isabella towards the door.
“He has flown away on one of his temperamental journeys. You
know his displeasure in regards to his birthdays. He has been quite
disagreeable these last few days. But this glorious news will cheer him. I am
certain of it.” Her smile returned, and she gave Owen a pat on the cheek.
“See that your wife is cared for. Food and drink. A bath. Whatever
she requires. I will go and fetch your father.”
Another hug, another kiss, and she departed as Owen asked of
her, “Where is the rest of the family?”
The question was followed by the answer, as the merry noise of
children came to be heard. Looking towards the stairs, Isabella beamed as her
son, along with her nieces and nephews – with their mothers and nurses in tow –
came rushing towards her. Phillipe Gisborne, five years old now, was yet
another spitting image of Sir Guy, but with a much more cheerful disposition
and a charming smile. Thea’s son, Gabriel, was the same age as Phillipe, and
the two were closely bonded playmates. Often in their shadow was Sophia – Simon
and Evelyn’s three year old daughter. She was fearless, energetic, and not at
all shy about chasing after the boys and engaging in their games with them. Quite
the opposite of the tomboyish Sophia were Thea’s twin daughters, Elizabeth and
Catherine. They enjoyed being proper young ladies, preferring to behave as
such, and the games they liked were ones of a more quiet nature. But they were
still children. And when visited by their favorite aunt and uncle, they could
not hide their enthusiasm.
“Oh my heavens, we are surrounded!” Owen cried in mock protest.
“Where are the dogs to protect us?”
There were kisses and hugs to be given all around, but Isabella
greeted her son before any other. She hugged him close, moved by the thought
that he was already growing into a handsome young man. She had missed so much
of his childhood, and it was a loss that would never to be returned to her. But
he was still young, and she intended to show him as much affection as she
could. She kissed his cheek.
“How are you, my darling? I have missed you so.”
“I am well, Mama,” he said. “Sir Lucien and I have been
preparing for the coming tourney.”
Touching his face, she smiled proudly at him. Like Owen, he was
becoming a prize student of Sir Lucien – learning the ways of the knighthood,
so he could one day be of service to the king. There was so little of Gilbert
in his nature, and she thanked God for that. He had not taken the loss of his
father in a particularly bad way, or so it seemed. He had shed tears a few
times, but had rarely spoken of it, and she had not pressed him on the matter. Only
time would tell if his wounds ran more than skin deep, but for the moment, he
was a happy and loving young man.
Over the heads of the children, Isabella saw Evie and Thea, who
were watching with happy expressions, and Isabella’s eye went to the bundle in
Evie’s arms. Evelyn moved forward, presenting her son with a proud smile. Simon
Alexander Jean-Carre was plump and chubby-cheeked, and was quite bald except
for a small bit of hair on the top of his head. His eyes were large and hazel,
and Isabella was delighted by him.
“Oh, Evie,” she said. “He is so handsome.”
She took him gently into her arms, feeling an overwhelming sense
of motherly instinct. One day soon, she would be holding Owen’s child – their
child – like this. When she raised her eyes to look at her husband, she saw
that he was smiling at her. Their thoughts, and hopes, were the same. Thoughts
of the future. Of happiness. Of a family, and a joy that would at last be
theirs to have.
*****
It wasn’t at all
difficult to find her wayward husband. Cassia wandered out of the dense woods
into the fields, dotted purple everywhere with the springtime blossoms of
lavender. Even at a distance she could see him, his frame impressive and strong
even when sitting, his sharp profile unmistakable even from far away. When she
quietly approached him, he slowly turned to look up at her. His greeting was
cool, given with something close to a frown.
“Good
afternoon, wife.”
Eyes slightly
wide with mock displeasure, she gently reproached him for being so glum.
“What a
greeting, husband! Is your mood so sour that you cannot greet me with something
more pleasant?”
At last he
smiled, reaching out his hand to her. As she placed her palm in his, he pulled
her down to sit beside him.
“Forgive an old
man and his grumpiness,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Sighing,
she snuggled into his arms, informing him of their guests’ arrival.
“Owen and
Isabella are here. They wish to see you.”
Now it was Guy
who let out a sigh. “All in due time, beloved.”
Leaning back in
his arms, Cassia looked into his eyes. “Guy, you are the same as ever, with
your moodiness and tendency to go into seclusion when you are troubled. Will
you never learn that you cannot hide from me?”
“It is not you
I hide from,” he replied. “It is the constant reminder of my age that I have no
desire to see or hear.”
She leaned her
head against his chest. “Do you not think I know your feelings? I share them,
more than you may know. Have you not
seen the age lines around my mouth?”
His tone became
softer, more pleasant. She could tell from the way he spoke that he was
smiling. “That is not age, beloved. It is the constancy of your lovely smile.”
“Oh? And what
of the crinkles around my eyes?”
“Your eyes
match the actions of your lips. Results of a happy disposition that has brought
much joy to us all.”
He was
determined to argue his points, which was something that had always pleased
her. She loved these kinds of playful debates with him, for they often drew him
out of his gloomy moods. Her eyes meeting his with a daring look and a little
smile, she challenged him.
“What of my
knees, then? You have heard the noise they make at times. What explanation do
you have for that?”
A light of
mischief flashed in his eyes. “That? It is most certainly old age.”
A stunned laugh
escaped her, and as he grinned at his own cheekiness, she playfully hit him.
“Fiend!” she
scolded him, but he only laughed, and she laughed along with him. Such moments
of shared joy had always seen them through difficult times. It would see them
through the trials of their autumn years as well.
“Let us go home
and see our family. They are waiting for us.”
He grumbled for
a moment. But as she rose to her feet beside him, he rose to his as well.
Putting her palm in his, she felt a familiar sense of love and comfort at the
sensation of their joined hands. Together they walked through the fields of
lavender and into the woods, eager to return home to the ones they loved.
*****
January, 1215
A cold winter
wind was howling outside the house. But in the bedchamber, all was warm and
cozy. Owen sat in a chair beside the bed, where his wife was sleeping
peacefully. In a cradle nearby, their newborn son was sleeping as well. After
the chaos that had gone on to bring the boy into the world, it was wonderful to
know that all was peaceful at last.
John Edward
Gisborne had been born after a long and difficult labor that had utterly
exhausted his mother and made his father crazed with anxiety and concern. But
in the end, all had been well. Rising from his chair now, Owen crept over to
the cradle to look down at the baby. Like all of the Gisborne babies, he was a
handsome child and a healthy one. That was partly an inherited trait. But one
could not forget that a strong and beautiful woman had so much more to do with
it.
Moving from the
cradle back to the bedside, Owen resumed his place beside Isabella. She was so
beautiful, even in sleep. And he loved her so, more than he had ever loved
anyone in his life. He wanted her to always be happy, and he would do whatever
it took, even it meant he would defy customs that other followed religiously.
He thought of the days before their son was born, when she had revealed her
fears, and of course, her memories.
Sebastian was torn from my arms instantly,
she had said, her eyes filled with tears. She had clung to him tightly. Promise me you will not let that happen.
He had not let
it happen. Indeed, he had insisted that the baby be returned to her arms the
moment he was clean and swaddled. He would not do as Gilbert had done –
snatching the child away and immediately handing him over to the care of a
nurse, instead of allowing mother and child to bond. Isabella had held young
John close for hours, just admiring him, until weariness had finally overtaken
her. Mother and son had fallen asleep together, and Owen had felt his own
exhaustion coming over him. But he fought against sleep. He had been with them
through the long and difficult day. And he would be there to greet them both
when they woke up in the morning.
THE END
THE END
