Chapter Twenty-One

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Berwick-Upon-Tweed

H e had left Kellington sleeping at an inn, watched over by men he trusted. The rest, including the bulk of his army, he had sent back to Pelinom for the time being. But that could change at any moment. He was still waiting to hear from de Vesci on the matter of whether or not he would be permitted to purchase the castle. Every day he waited for word.

It had been a week since the events at Alnwick– a week for Kellington to grieve for her father, a week for Jax to become accustomed to his new life with a new wife. He had married her the day of that fateful battle. The trip to Berwick a week later had been under the pretense of a shopping trip, to purchase his wife finery and jewelry on the event of their marriage. Being a normal female, she readily agreed to the shopping trip. Over the past four days, he had spent almost as much money as he had confiscated from all of his northern conquests combined. For a man unused to spending his wealth, it had been something of a harrowing experience.

But the wedding celebration had not been his primary purpose. There was something gnawing at him, and had been, since his confrontation with Amadeo. He had chosen Berwick for a purpose. The man's dying words echoed in Jax's brain and, try as he might, he could not shake them. He had been a terrible husband to his first wife and vowed he would be the best husband he could be to his second. Still, he had some amends to make to Mira, if for no other reason than to ease his guilty conscience.

He had not told Kellington of Mira. With all they had been through, he did not believe it was the right time. His wife was still distraught over her father and Jax did not want to add to that burden. So in the midst of their shopping trip, he had waited until the time was right to slip away and go in search of Amadeo's clues. It was the dead of night and he knew Kellington was a heavy sleeper; hopefully she would not wake and find him missing. But he could not worry about that.

So he had come to Bridge Terrace, a street near the mouth of the River Tweed. It was a seedy area, lined with disreputable taverns and murderer's dens. But no one would dare bother a man of Jax's size and overall presentation; though he was without his helm, he still had on his armor and most of his personal weapons. Only an idiot would have challenged him as he moved in darkened streets. He navigated the night with no fear.

Jax wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for. Amadeo had said ‘Blankenship' in the midst of his death throes, though Jax had no real idea what that meant. It could have been someone's name or the name of a vessel. Perhaps it was the name of a ship that sailed from the wharf with Mira in it. His eyes roved the street, the signs, the buildings, looking for a sign. With every moment, he was growing more baffled and more discouraged.

But then his dual-colored gaze came to rest on an object and he suddenly came to a halt. Over his head was a sign, crudely carved, that said "Blankynship". It was barely legible, but unmistakable. Slightly startled, he sized up the small structure and hesitantly moved to one of the windows, peering inside.

There were a few people in the interior, eating or drinking by the light of a few fat tapers. A dirty fire burned in the hearth, spitting smoke into the room. He assumed it was an inn, although it did not look like most inns he knew. It was far too quiet and empty. Still, he went to the door and pushed it open. He was met by a blast of warm air and the sharp smell of yeast.

Every face in the room turned to him, unconcerned at first but then eyes wide with trepidation. That wasn't unusual; Jax was used to that kind of reaction. Still, he was here for a purpose, and that purpose wasn't to maim or terrorize. He spoke to the room as a whole.

"I am looking for the owner of this establishment."

People began pointing to the back of the room so he followed their direction and moved into the dimness that constituted the rear of the building. There were a few empty tables and a very cluttered kitchen. He accidentally kicked a cat in the darkness, cursing under his breath as the animal howled. As he moved through the very back of the room, a tall, dark-haired man suddenly came into view.

Their eyes met in the weak light of the distant hearth. The man was young, handsome and slender. He wiped his hands on a rag and stepped forward.

"May I help you, my lord?" he asked politely.

"Are you the innkeeper?"

The young man nodded. "I am Edward Blankynship," he replied. "May I be of service?"

So that explained the sign above the tavern. Jax was trying not to look too confused. "I do not know," he said honestly. "I am looking for some information, I think."

"What information would that be, my lord?"

"Do you know a woman by the name of Mira?"

Edward nodded eagerly. "Of course, my lord. Mira is my wife. Do you wish to see her?"

Jax stared at him; his wife? He could no longer control his confusion and his features twisted with puzzlement.

"Your wife ?" he repeated dumbly.

"Aye, my lord. Shall I get her?"

"If it… well, if it is possible," he scratched his scalp as if it would help him think more clearly. "Your wife, you say?"

Edward nodded again, an odd twinkle in his eye at the man who kept asking him the same question. "Aye," with a rag in one hand, he moved to the rear door; outside, Jax could see a small cottage across what looked to be an alley. Edward called across the way. "Mira? Mira, love, someone is here to see you!"

He shut the door against the chill evening and turned back to Jax. "It should only be a moment," he said. "She is putting our youngest to bed. He does not like to comply."

Jax was as close to astonishment as he had ever been in his life. He stood there with his mouth hanging open, finally making a conscious effort to shut it. Too many things did not make sense.

"How… how long have you been married?" it was the first thing he could think to ask.

"Almost four years," Edward replied. He peered more closely at Jax. "Would you like some wine?"

Jax raised his eyebrows, thinking he could probably use some. He nodded and Edward brought him a large cup of rich, and cheap, red wine. Jax took the entire cup in three swallows and slammed the cup back down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked at the young innkeeper again, studying him, perhaps sizing him up.

"How did you meet your wife?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound as if he was interrogating the man but frankly not caring. He wanted answers.

Edward poured him another drink. "She was shopping in town. I met her on the street, not far from here. She is the sister of a great warlord, although I've never met him. She says that he lives in France."

"And you have lived here since the day you were married?"

"Right here, my lord. We have two sons."

Suddenly, pieces were starting to fall together and a good deal was starting to make sense. Jax drained the second cup and realized he was beginning to feel ill. Just as he opened his mouth to ask another question, a small figure entered the shop from the dark alley. Both Jax and Edward turned as the figure moved towards them, hidden by the shadows. But the moment her face came into the light, Jax struggled not to react.

It was a sweet little face with big dark eyes and pretty dark hair. Mira de Velt's eyes widened at the sight of her first husband, surely a sight she never expected to see. She took a step back, hand to her heart, terror in her eyes. Jax could see her shock, matching his own, and he moved quickly to stave off her panic before she could erupt.

"Dear sister," he said, grabbing her by the shoulders and kissing her on the forehead. "Is that how you greet your brother? With such astonishment?"

Mira was stiff in his grip as he released her. She stumbled back, away from him, her mind spinning with shock. Even so, she had heard his words; is this how you greet your brother? To her left, her husband was watching with surprise. She could not give away anything, not now, not when her entire life hung in the balance. She could not let Jax or her unabashed bewilderment ruin what she had worked so hard to achieve. All she could manage was a strangled sentence.

"I… I did not know you were here," she stammered. Then the most truthful question of the night came forth. "How did you find me?"

Jax just stared at her, thinking she was still a pretty little thing but that she had aged quickly over the past four years. Oddly enough, he felt no anger or sense of possessiveness. But he did realize that, as of this moment, both he and Mira had a giant, common problem. He needed to get her alone to discuss it.

"It was not too difficult," he said. "Someone told me you would be here."

Mira was trembling; Jax could see it. He sat back down at the table and indicated for her to do the same. "Sit, sister. We've not seen each other in years. There is much to talk about."

Edward helped his wife to sit; his attentions toward her were kind and loving. Even Jax could see that. Then he pulled up a chair of his own but Mira stopped him.

"Edward," she said quickly, holding a hand over the chair to prevent him from sitting. "Johnny was very restless when I left him. Would you mind checking on him while I speak to my… brother?"

Edward nodded eagerly. "Of course, my love. I will be right back."

Jax and Mira sat in silence until the slender young man left back through the alley door. When Jax finally looked at the woman, she was staring back at him fearfully.

"Please do not kill me, Jax," she begged softly. "I am sorry if I shamed you and I am sorry if this is a horrendous shock to you, but you must understand that…."

Jax cut her off with a raised hand. "I am not here to exact revenge, Mira," he said quietly. "In fact, I am rather relieved to see that you are alive."

The expression on her pasty face changed slightly. "Why?"

"Because I thought you were dead."

Mira did not quite know what to say to that. "Why did you come looking for me?" she suddenly went into panic mode again. "If you think I am going to return with you, know right now that I will not. I will never go back to you. I would rather…"

He cut her off for a second time. "I've not come to bring you back nor have I come to kill you," he sat forward on the table, folding his enormous hands patiently. "Mira, I came because I thought Amadeo had killed you and I had come to seek some manner of peace with the situation. I should have done it four years ago but I suppose it took me that long to discover what an ignorant husband I had been. In any case, before he died, Amadeo mentioned Bridge Terrace and Blankenship. I knew there was a bridge wharf in Berwick, so I came to Bridge Terrace and, by chance, found this place. Believe me when I tell you that it was purely by chance. I came on Amadeo's clues but honestly had no idea what I would find."

Mira gazed at him a long time, digesting what he had told her. But knowing de Velt as she had, she could hardly believe he hadn't come to punish her. Along with her fear, however, she also felt betrayed.

"He promised he would not tell you," she finally said, her eyes welling. "He swore to me that he would never tell you what happened."

Jax was starting to feel some confusion again, now about Amadeo's part in all of this. "Would you please tell me what happened? I promise I will not become angry, but I would like to know the truth."

Mira's breathing began to come in strange little pants. She fidgeted a bit, wiping at her eyes, glancing at Jax every so often. She finally sat on her hands in a nervous gesture, struggling with her composure.

"You swear that you will not kill me?"

"I swear."

She took a deep breath. "Then if that is true, you are not the husband I left."

He cocked an eyebrow. "I am most certainly not the husband you left. Tell me the truth, Mira. What happened? Why are you here?"

She took another deep breath; she did not want to anger him by refusing, so she summoned her courage.

"I met Edward on a shopping trip when you and I lived at Foulburn," she said softly, haltingly. "In two minutes the man made me feel more comfort and joy than you gave me in two years. I… I told him that I was not married. I truly wished that I was not and as time passed and the more I conversed with him, it was easy to pretend that I was not. He wanted to marry me and I wanted to marry him, so I planned my escape from Foulburn one night and Amadeo caught me. He made me tell him where I was going. When I did, he offered to escort me there. He swore that he would never tell you what had happened."

Jax kept his composure remarkably well; his face never changed expression. But he could see that he had been horribly wrong about Amadeo in a most important way; still, the man had been conspiring behind his back. It was not the first time and it certainly was not the last. His only regret was that Amadeo did not tell him that Mira was still alive on the day of that fateful battle. It would have perhaps made a difference in the outcome.

"Amadeo wanted you out of the way," he said quietly. "That is why he escorted you to Berwick and left you off to a new life. He did not want you near me, distracting me, and interrupting my plans of conquest." Just as he had tried to rid me of Kellington.

Mira had not been privy to all that went on in Jax's world, but she knew enough to know that Amadeo had been a schemer. "None of the other knights liked him, Jax. Surely you know that. He tried to separate everyone from you."

Jax nodded slowly. "I am aware. But he is no longer a concern."

Mara stared at him a moment. "You killed him?"

Jax met her gaze, his silence enough of a confirmation. After a moment, he continued. "So you came to a new life and a new husband. And you never thought that I would find you?"

She shook her head. "I prayed every night that you would not." She began to relax, realizing that he was indeed not out to punish her. The Jax de Velt she knew four years ago would have decapitated her by now. "Jax, you and I were strangers when we married. We were not happy. We resented each other. I suppose I was resigned to that until I met Edward. Then I realized that I deserve to be happy, too. I did not flee to hurt you, you must believe me; I left because it was the best thing to do."

Jax sighed faintly, nodding his head after a moment. "Are you truly happy, then? This is not the life of wealth you once said you wanted."

She grinned. "I am richer than you in many accounts. I have a husband I adore and two beautiful sons. We work hard here, but I love every minute of it. It is a much better life than you and I had together."

"Then I cannot fault you. But you realize, of course, that you and I are still married. Your marriage to Edward is null."

Her smile faded. "I know," she murmured. "But he will never know the truth. In our hearts, we are more deeply husband and wife than any blessing the church could give us."

Jax sat back in his seat, toying with the empty cup at his elbow. "Then I have a confession as well. Thinking you were dead, I married another. I, too, adore her. She is my all for living. But she will never know that our marriage is invalid. It does not matter in the least to me; as you said, we are more deeply married in our hearts than anything the church could ever validate."

Mira looked surprised. "You married for love?"

"I did."

Her mouth flew open in awe, then joy. "My God, I never thought I would hear that from you," she breathed. "You are Jax de Velt, the most fearsome warlord in the land. You know nothing of mercy or compassion or emotion, yet you say you have married for love? 'Tis a miracle."

The corners of his mouth twitched, feeling her mirth but unwilling to give in to it totally. His thoughts were increasingly lingering on Kellington, still asleep in an inn a half mile away. He missed her very much.

"The miracle was in finding my wife."

Mira shook her head. "You do not mean me."

He did smile, then. "You are not my wife."

Her own smile returned. "And you are most certainly not my husband."

The back door from the alley opened and Jax eyed the slender young man entering. "Nay," he said quietly. "I am your brother. And I believe the time for me to leave has come."

He stood up just as Edward reached the table. The young innkeeper looked concerned. "Please do not get up on my account," he pulled his chair up again. "Sit, sit. Let us become better acquainted."

Jax shook his head. "Alas, I cannot. I have left my wife overlong and must return. I simply came to check on my sister to make sure she is well."

Mira stood up and put her arm around her husband's waist. "I am very well. And it was nice of you to come."

Jax lifted an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on her. The woman was a grown-up version of the girl he had known four years ago. He felt strangely at peace with the thought as his gaze moved to Edward.

The young innkeeper smiled. "I am sorry you must leave," he said. "I was hoping to come to know you. I have no family other than my wife and our children and was hoping to know a brother."

Jax could see that he was a very nice, polite man. He'd sensed that from the onset. Two months ago he would not have given a whelp like Edward any thought. He would have run him through as he had done countless others, without thought or conscience. But he actually thought the man rather pleasant. Strange, he thought to himself. Perhaps he was growing more human by the moment. Perhaps Kellington had given him more of herself than he had ever imagined. Perhaps this was what it meant to be a true man.

"Perhaps another time," he said to Edward. "Perhaps I will return another day to see how my sister is faring."

Mira reached out to grasp his hand before he could move away completely. "Will you bring your wife?" she asked. "I… I believe I would like to meet this remarkable woman."

Jax's mouth twitched with a smile. "She is indeed remarkable, as I am living proof."

With that, he turned for the door, making his way through the small main room and out into the night beyond. Mira and Edward stood a moment, watching his massive form fade into the black street beyond the door. When the panel closed behind him, Edward turned to his wife.

"He seems like a pleasant man," he said, putting his arms around her. "I cannot believe he is the blood thirsty bastard you told me he was."

Mira's gaze moved from her husband's face back to the closed door, the last place she ever saw Jax de Velt. She imagined she could still see him there, an enormous man with dual colored eyes and a terrifying reputation.

"He's apparently not," she murmured. "Not anymore."