The Best Is Yet To Be Read online

  “What did I tell ye, Isabella?” she said, scolding her granddaughter who was oldest of the group of children. “Ye must be careful of the little ones. Who is crying?”

  There were ten children in all playing – children of Jemma’s daughter, Rose, and her son, Nathaniel. But there were also three of Cassiopeia’s children – Hestia, Asteria, and little Leonidas. The children were all pointing to Leonidas as he sat on the pebbles, nursing a skinned knee as his sisters tried to comfort him.

  Jemma made her way over to the little boy.

  “There, there, laddie,” she said soothingly, peering at the knee that was barely scratched. “Is this what ye’re fussing over? ’Tis nothing at all. Get up and brush yerself off. ’Tis a tiny little scratch.”

  Leonidas, or Leo as the family called him, looked exactly like Edward de Wolfe had as a child. He had dark, curly hair and big, green eyes. “It… it’s red!” he sniffled.

  He was pointing to the blood, minute as it was. Jemma took the edge of her sleeve and dabbed at it. There was literally no difference, but the child seemed to think so.

  “See?” she said. “It is all gone. No more red. Go and finish playing now. ’Tis almost the nooning meal and yer mother will be here soon.”

  Hestia and Asteria pulled Leonidas to his feet and the children went back to their game for a few minutes. Jemma, satisfied that she’d averted a child’s disaster, headed back to her sewing. She was nearly to the bench when Jordan emerged from the house.

  “So it was ye,” Jemma said as she collected her sewing and sat back down. “I heard the sentries and thought ye might have returned.”

  Jordan came over to sit with her. “Aye,” she said, looking around and seeing the children playing. “Anything exciting happen while we were away?”

  Jemma shook her head as she took a stab at the bees again. “Nay,” she said. “Except Leo fell and scratched his knee. ’Tis nothing.”

  Jordan watched the children playing. “Did he have a fit?”

  “I told him it was nothing.”

  Jordan grinned. “That doesna usually work with him,” she said. “I’ve seen Leo cry himself sick over what amounts tae a nick. Did he weep for his mother?”

  Jemma shook her head. “Surprisingly not,” she said. “Anything exciting happening at Northwood? Why did ye go, anyway? Cassie was only just there.”

  That was a question with far too many answers, mostly ones Jordan didn’t want to give. She didn’t think she’d have to speak of it so soon; she was hoping to ease into the situation, something she’d been thinking about on the entire journey back to Castle Questing.

  How do I bring this up to Jemma?

  But she had to admit that she’d never been more nervous about something than she was now. She genuinely had no idea how Jemma was going to react to what she was about to say. Paris had reacted as she had expected him to, but Jemma…

  She was the unknown in all of this.

  The truth was that Jemma had been deeply, madly in love with Kieran. He was such a wonderful man that everyone loved him. Jemma had never expressed any interest in finding someone else after her husband of many years had passed away, so this was going to be tricky.

  She had Paris’ attention… now she needed the other party in the equation.

  Therefore, Jordan did the only thing she could do – she was going to have to try and manipulate her cousin because she was quite certain being honest with her wasn’t going to work. The deception wasn’t malicious because, truly, she thought Jemma might be happier with Paris as a companion, but she had to be convinced of it. The woman hadn’t been herself since Kieran had passed away and everybody knew it.

  Perhaps it would be a chance for her to regain a tiny bit of what she’d lost…

  Herself.

  There was only one way to find out.

  “William wanted tae visit with Paris and Cassie had some business with him as well,” Jordan said after a moment. “Jemma, there’s something I must speak tae ye about.”

  Jemma was focused on her sewing. “What is it?”

  “Well,” Jordan said, starting out slowly. “William’s visit with Paris was for a reason. ’Tis why I went, too.”

  “What reason?”

  “It seems that Paris has a secret.”

  Jemma looked at her, then. “What secret could the man possibly have? He runs his mouth so much that surely there is nothing left tae tell.”

  Already, it wasn’t starting out good with the first insult being dealt. Jordan had to take another tactic.

  “Do ye hate him so much, then?” she asked quietly.

  Jemma turned back to her sewing. “I dunna hate him at all.”

  “Ye act as if ye do.”

  Jemma stopped sewing and frowned. “What is this all about, Jordie? Why are ye telling me this?”

  Jordan had no choice but to get it all out and hope for the best. “William has been worried about Paris,” she said. “Ye know the man has been sad since Callie passed. We’ve all commented on it. Jemma, do ye recall when I first came tae Northwood, how ye followed the army until they caught ye?”

  “Of course I remember.”

  “And Paris thought ye were a spy?”

  Jemma’s mouth pressed into a flat line at first. But then, a flicker of a smirk appeared and she turned back to her sewing. “What in the world made ye think of that?” she said. “I havena thought of that in a very long time. I remember that very moment perfectly.”

  Jordan grinned because Jemma was. “Sweet Jesu, I was so angry with ye,” she said. “We started screaming at each other right in front of William and Paris and Kieran. I remember that I called ye a stupid wench.”

  Jemma snorted. “And Paris tried tae stop us,” she said. “I called him a clod, or an idiot, or something… I canna remember what it was, exactly, but I remember kicking him.”

  Jordan was laughing softly. “Ye punched him in the belly.”

  Jemma giggled like a naughty girl. “Tae tell ye the truth, he had every right tae punish me for that,” she said. “I was a hellion, tae be sure.”

  Jordan was still laughing. “That side of ye is still there,” she said. “I’ve seen it in the past when yer children were small and ye were forced tae discipline them because Kieran wouldna.”

  “’Tis true. Kieran was too soft with them most of the time.”

  “Yer sons were greatly a-feared of ye.”

  “They still are.”

  Jordan nodded, snickering. But she quieted down as the children came out of the labyrinth and began heading through the garden, into the keep. Jordan caught little Leonidas, kissing him until he whined and pulled away from her. As the children disappeared into the keep, heading for the hall and the nooning meal, Jordan’s gaze lingered on the door where the group had disappeared.

  “Leo looks so much like Eddie did as a child,” she said wistfully. “I miss those days. I miss our children all growing up together, the days when we would become angry at them for something small and William and Kieran would hide them from us.”

  Jemma’s sewing slowed as she pondered those days, so long ago. “It was mostly Kieran,” she said. “He was the great, wise father with the children. They always knew they could go to him with a problem or an ache, and he would fix it.”

  Jordan sensed a change in mood. She watched Jemma as the woman moved slowly with her stitches, her mind lingering on days gone by and the husband she had lost.

  “Ye miss him, still,” she murmured.

  Jemma lifted her shoulders. “I miss the man he was,” she said. “I miss my strong husband who was kind and gentle and wise. I miss his laughter, the way his eyes would flash when he was teasing me. That’s the man I miss. But the man who was so ill towards the end of his life… I’ve never told anyone this, Jordie, but it killed me tae see him like that. He was so ashamed and I hurt for him. Towards the end… for his sake, I just wanted it tae be over. That was no way for a man of Kieran’s strength and character tae die. In truth… I fe
el as if I lost him long before he died.”

  Jordan put her arm around Jemma’s shoulders. “Ye never told him?”

  “Never. Why hurt the man when he was helpless? ’Twas my duty tae tend him until the end. I was happy tae. But I hated tae see him like that.”

  Jordan squeezed her gently. “We all did,” she said softly. “We all loved him very much, for he was a great man. But his death took something out of ye, Jemma. We’ve all seen it. When he died, yer fire went out.”

  Jemma looked at her, prepared to contradict her, but she couldn’t. Not when she knew it was the truth.

  “He took my heart with him,” she said simply. “He’s gone now and I’m… alone.”

  “But women do marry again after their husbands die,” Jordan said. “It happens all of the time. And if ye’re lonely, Kieran would want ye tae be happy. He wouldna want ye tae be lonely forever.”

  Jemma looked at her as if she’d gone mad. “Me? Remarry?” she scoffed. “Who on earth would want an old woman like me, Jordie?”

  “Someone might. Why not find a companion in yer old age? There is no reason tae be alone.”

  “Who?”

  “Mayhap… mayhap someone who has admired ye since the day he met ye.”

  Jemma’s look of surprise turned to one of shock. She eyed her cousin for several long moments before speaking. “What’s this, now?” she asked. “And just who would that be?”

  Jordan couldn’t look Jemma in the eye when she lied to her. Removing her arm from the woman’s shoulder, she ended up looking at her lap.

  “Ye never gave him a chance,” she said. “Ye never had a chance. Kieran swept ye away as soon as he met ye and there was never any chance for anyone but Kieran.”

  Jemma reached out and shoved her in the arm; not hard, but enough to jolt her. “Tell me who.”

  Jordan stood up, out of the range of fire. “Hear me out and dunna interrupt,” she said. “’Tis the entire reason we went tae Northwood. It seems that Paris had his cap set for ye before Kieran took ye away and now that Callie is gone… and Kieran is gone… he’s afraid tae tell ye that he’s always been fond of ye. He’s afraid tae tell ye what’s in his heart. That’s his secret, Jemma. Ye’re alone, and he’s alone, and he thought… and I think it is a good idea… that ye might let him call on ye.”

  Oh, but it was a blatant lie, but Jordan had no choice. She knew that if she presented it any other way, Jemma might actually take a switch to her. Her cousin wasn’t beyond such things.

  Jemma’s reaction wasn’t long in coming.

  The woman’s mouth popped open in astonishment and she bolted off the bench, her sewing still in her hand. Her eyes, the color of amber, flashed.

  “Paris?” she hissed. “De Norville?”

  “Do ye know another Paris?”

  “That… that dimwitted Sassenach?”

  Jordan held up a finger. “If ye insult him, ye insult yer own sons as well as mine,” she said sternly. “They’re all Sassenach. We married intae the English, so if ye use that term, ye insult the entire family. Control yer tongue.”

  Jemma’s cheeks were turning red. She was gearing up for something truly terrible to say; Jordan could see it.

  “Ye think I’m so lonely that I’d keep company with… with Paris?” she demanded, incredulous. “The man has been a thorn in my side since the day I met him. And ye tell me he had his cap set for me? Are ye mad, woman?”

  Jordan stood her ground. “Think about it,” she said. “Paris was in charge of ye when we journeyed from Lothian tae Northwood. He was nasty tae ye; too nasty. Did ye never stop tae think why?”

  “Because he’s a dolt?”

  “Because he fancied ye! Are ye so blind or do ye truly not remember anything about men and women?”

  Jemma scowled, planting her fists on her hips and all but crumpling the blue tunic. Jordan reached out and yanked it from her grip, laying it on the bench where Jemma couldn’t wrinkle it in her outrage.

  “Jordie,” Jemma said, trying to calm herself. “Paris never fancied me, not at any time. It’s not true!”

  “Will ye tell him that, then?” Jordan fired back softly. “Because I can tell ye, it’s true. I had a long conversation with him at Northwood and he said that Kieran took ye away so quickly that he dinna have time tae tell ye. That’s why he married Caladora – when he felt something for her, he dinna wait. He dinna want her tae get away like ye did.”

  “He dinna marry her quickly,” Jemma said, shaking a finger at her. “It took time. He toyed with her and bedded her before he married her. Do ye recall?”

  Jordan nodded. “I do,” she said. “But losing ye tae Kieran meant he dinna want tae lose Caladora. Now, think, Jemma… think back tae when ye first met Paris. Did ye think he was handsome?”

  Jemma frowned, resistant to remembering but doing so nonetheless. She was so rattled by the entire conversation that her usual composure was gone.

  “I dunna know,” she said. “He was tall.”

  “And handsome?”

  “Him?”

  “Be honest with me, Jemma. Please.”

  Jemma sighed heavily. “I… I suppose so,” she said. “Aye, he is. He still is.”

  “And ye know the man. Ye’ve known him for decades. Why not keep company with him? Ye dunna want tae live the rest of yer life alone, do ye? There is always a second chance for happiness.”

  Jemma was torn; that much was clear. She was off-balance by the entire subject, torn between her automatic annoyance for Paris and just the least bit flattered by his secret. It wasn’t that she still pined for Kieran. She had done her grieving and was at peace with it. But that didn’t mean she was on the hunt for another husband.

  And certainly not Paris.

  … was she?

  “Pah,” she said, waving her hands and turning back for the bench. “This is madness, all of it. If Paris wants tae court me, then let him tell me tae my face.”

  “He came back with us from Northwood.”

  Jemma’s eyes flew open wide. “He’s here?”

  “Aye.”

  Her defiance, her confidence, was gone. And suddenly, she was a young woman again with a suitor at the door. She may as well have been for all of the nervousness she was suddenly feeling.

  “Tell him tae go home,” she said. “I dunna want tae see him.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I dunna want tae hear about fondness or… or whatever he thinks he feels. The man is daft if he thinks… just tell him tae go home!”

  Jordan could see that Jemma was rattled, which was a good thing. If she’d truly been angry and revolted, she wouldn’t have been acting nervous. Jemma’s behavior would have been adorable had Jordan not been so frustrated at Jemma’s resistance to the logic of it all.

  The hope of it all.

  “If that’s what ye want, I will,” Jordan said. But then, she took a few steps in Jemma’s direction and lowered her voice. “It’ll crush the man, but I’ll tell him. Ye should probably know that he’s tried tae kill himself because he’s so lonely. But talk of ye has lifted his spirits. There was hope in his face for the first time in a long while. But I’ll tell him tae go back tae Northwood because ye willna consider him. Who knows? If he tries tae kill himself again, he may succeed. But I’m sure ye wouldna care about that, either.”

  Jemma’s agitation ceased in an instant. “He tried tae kill himself?”

  Jordan nodded. “Aye,” she said. “He tried tae drown himself in the river. If ye dunna believe me, ask Cassie. Ask William. They saw it.”

  Jemma stared at her a moment, an expression of confusion and sorrow washing over her face. “God’s Bones,” she muttered. “Why should he do such a thing?”

  Jordan could see that Jemma was sympathetic, which told her the woman’s resistance was more from shock than revulsion.

  “I told ye,” she said, her manner less harsh. “He’s lonely. Loneliness had brought on thoughts of the past, thoughts of ye. Men simply are not a
s strong as women, Jemma. Paris has lost something he canna seem tae find. Why not keep company with the man? Ye know him. Ye’ve known him most of yer life. Why not go back to the days before Kieran and see if ye felt something for him, just a little?”

  Jemma looked at her. Then, she swallowed hard, as if all of the fight had gone out of her. “Look at me,” she whispered. “I’m not the lass I once was. I’m rounder. My hair has mostly gone tae gray. Why should he even think about me?”

  Jordan smiled faintly. “Because he still sees ye as ye were,” she said. “He’s known ye so long, he’ll never see ye as anything else. Will ye at least consider it? It would be nice not tae be lonely, wouldna it? Tae have someone tae talk tae, tae call yer own?”

  Jemma sighed faintly, turning back for her stone bench and collecting the wrinkled blue tunic. Sitting heavily, she stared at the fabric, deep in thought.

  “Let me think, Jordie,” she finally said. “I…”

  “Mother!”

  A loud voice filled the garden as Alec Hage suddenly appeared, grabbing Jordan and kissing her on the cheek before he went to his mother and wrapped her up in his big arms. Alec was exactly as Kieran had been in his youth; big, strong, with dark blond hair and that granite-square jaw. The only difference was that Alec had his mother’s amber eyes, but other than that, he was Kieran’s image.

  Jemma looked at her eldest in surprise.

  “What on earth are ye doing here?” she asked. “I dinna know ye were coming.”

  Alec kissed her on the cheek before letting her go. “I had to deliver a missive from Patrick to William,” he said. “We’ve got some interesting activity from the Gordon at Berwick and… well, it doesn’t matter. You don’t care. So, I came and brought Moira with me. Apollo had to go to Northwood for the same reason I came here, so Moira wanted to come and visit you. She brought the children with her.”

  “Where are they?”

  “In the hall. Can’t you hear all of the screaming?”

  Jemma’s hearing wasn’t what it once was. “Nay,” she said. “Why are they screaming?”

  Alec waved her off. “Because they’re excited to see their cousins, I suppose,” he said. “Come inside and share the nooning meal with us. Oh, and I saw Uncle Paris, too. He’s here along with Hector and Adonis. Seems like half of the family is here.”