A Widow Plagued (12 page)

Lady Sara knew better than to face the inevitable wrath in the company of Gavin's men. Instead, she turned and ran.

Gavin swallowed his rage and humiliation. Sliding the second copy of the agreement from beneath his leather pouch, he pulled out his second-to-last piece of parchment and painstakingly copied the contents once again. Pushing the anger that bubbled within him down several times more, he was finally able to turn both pages over to Sir David to sign, and Thomas to witness. A missive had already been sent to the priest to read Sir David and Lady Hannah's names in the banns each week, as well as to the Lord Polk, explaining the most recent development.

The knot was tied, and no squalling by Lady Sara would unravel it. The manor must be saved at any expense. Sara would come to see the benefit of the untimely matrimony, despite her strong feelings at present. Women could be exhausting, with their emotional responses.

Sir Gavin had himself been married barely a month, and he felt harried and hen pecked already...
I
s this what I have in store again, when Lady Elizabeth becomes a young woman? Heaven preserve me from having any more daughters! Why did I not wish for a son?

~

Sara strode out to the back of the barn, eager to spend this excess energy coursing through her. This is what came of trusting a man! She had let her guard down for only a moment when this opportunistic, loathsome creature sold out her daughter for his own benefit.

Gavin had promised in their very marriage contract, to allow Hannah time to wed. This contract was in direct violation of that promise. Sitting down upon the rotting, weed-infested bench, in the late Lady Sander's overgrown garden, Sara read over the torn marriage contract. The contract required evidence of Sir David's identity, and swore David's loyalty to Gavin as Lord Sanders.

No mention was made of where Sir David planned on taking Hannah. She was just this week fourteen years old, not nearly ready to be a wife and mother. Sara had seen all too often what happened to the young women unlucky enough to marry at such a tender age. They struggled with their wifely duties-they died in child bed. She wanted better for her dear, sweet Hannah. Just a year or two more and she would be so much better equipped to deal with such expectations.

“Hiding amongst the other wild flowers, I see,” came Gavin's rumbling voice about the corner of the barn.

Sara jumped despite her resolve. “Nay, not hiding, My Lord.” She could barely stand to speak with the man, so betrayed and adrift did she feel.

“Very little have I asked of ye, Sara, but to kept yer opinions stated behind closed doors, not aired fer the whole of the keep.”

“Then consult me afore ye promise my precious child up as a sacrificial lamb! Or are ye too great a coward to admit yer own betrayal like a man?”

Gavin strode through the overgrown lilac to grab Sara about the arms and shake her. “How dare thee challenge me afore my men, accuse me of such atrocities without one question, without one shred of evidence!”

Sara paled at the barely leashed rage coursing through Gavin's contorted features. “I trekked all day yesterday and today to find yer 'precious child' nuzzled up to the naked chest of the man in that hall there.

“She has ruined herself in front of my men and the only way for her to marry well, if at all, was for me to agree to this contract. Have ye no concept of what yer own daughter hath done?”

Sara stilled, “I-I know very well the power young men can hold over a young woman. If she was found in his embrace, I am certain twas not of her doing. The man is twice her size, Gavin!”

“She was splayed across him, smiling, Sara. I know the difference between a terrified young lady and one well pleasured.”

Sara struck Gavin across the cheek, then immediately regretted the impulse.

Grabbing her about the waist, Gavin dumped himself onto the rickety bench and slammed his hand across Sara's backside. Sara refused to call out and alert Gavin's men, for fear she would have an audience for her ultimate humiliation.

“If ye insist on acting the impulsive child, I will treat ye as such, Lady Sara.”

Gavin vented his frustration on her backside. Every smack brought a fresh, stinging wave of tears tumbling down Sara's cheeks to wet Gavin's chauses. Standing her up to face him, Gavin sensed Sara's humiliation and his voice softened slightly.

“Now let us hear no more about this marriage contract. I will keep yer errant daughter safe, if ye can be trusted to keep her in line. No more outbursts or I'll tan yer hide again, Lady Sara. I'll have order in my own household, whatever it takes.”

Striding away, Gavin gave himself time to organize his thoughts before returning to the keep.

“Sir David, ye'll stay in Adam's room until we leave for court. I'll have yer word that ye will see nothing of Lady Hannah, outside the supervised suppers in our hall; twill be a marriage in name only, until such time that I deem otherwise. Dost thou understand my terms and expectations?”

“I would expect nothing less, My Lord,” Sir David bent his head, hiding an expectant smile. He could bear Lord Sanders cursory treatment and restrictions as long as needed. After all, he'd born much worse for much less. Lady Hannah was to be his wife!

Lady Sara waited until Gavin rode out of the front gates with a small group of men before she slunk back into the keep and upstairs. Two hours had passed, and it was high time she fed her bairn.

Sliding in the door to the solar, Sara walked resolutely to the basin and splashed some tepid water on her tear-streaked cheeks. Turning to Millie, she was instantly contrite. The older woman had clearly been crying herself and Sara was horrified to recall the nasty words she had spoken in her blinding panic.

“Oh, Millie, please forgive me for my horrible words. I would never willingly harm thee, Millie; please believe that.”

Millie sniffed a bit and handed Sara the cranky babe. “Aye,” she responded, reservedly. “If ye will excuse me, I have a supper to prepare.”

Sara nodded and accepted the squirming infant. But before Millie could leave, she grabbed the older woman's arm in silent plea. Millie's face softened, and she patted Sara's shoulder.

“Twill all work out in the end; ye'll see, My Dear.”

Sara nodded to appease Millie, and sank gingerly into the rocking chair to feed Elizabeth. Her back side hurt far less than her aching pride, she supposed. What stung the most was that she had felt so certain of Gavin's chivalry, so valued by him, that it had not occurred to her that he would toss that trust and solidarity from the ramparts at the first opportunity.

If what Gavin told her about Hannah's compromised position had even a shred of truth to it, then she might be inclined to at least understand his impulse to protect her through an impromptu marriage. Yet, knowing Hannah as she did, she was certain Gavin was turning an innocent victim into the wanton woman to achieve his own selfish ends.

That was precisely what had happened to Sara, when the late Lord Sanders had discovered her defending herself against that vile young man. She had thought Gavin to be a valiant, true knight, a protector of the weak; she had dared to dream. Now, she knew he was simply a man-a man with faults and weaknesses like any other. He might be slow to anger, but he was capable of great, eruptive violence, if so driven.

She grieved the loss of that feeling of partnership she and Gavin had created. She now felt firmly pushed into her place as dependent. She knew how to play the role of submissive wife. She had done so for the three years prior to Gavin's arrival. She could do so again. So, why did the idea of playing the martyr hurt so much more this time?

Chapter
7

Going Courting

Due to Hannah's disappearance, the departure date had been pushed back a week. They were now slated to leave in three day's time. Sara did not have nearly the necessary clothing and food stores to accommodate such a trip.

Gavin had explained to her that he was not interested in making an impressive showing at court. “Looking as if one has wealth is not necessarily a wise choice at this juncture. The war with France is expensive, and the good King Edward will find funds wherever they might be available. We will bring only our family, Millie, and two men to drive the wagons. I want to portray ourselves as the impoverished country gentry that we are. In this way, King Edward will unceremoniously grant our title and we can go back to eking out a living on our tiny corner of the realm.”

Sara had nodded, beguiled into believing every self-serving word that had crossed Gavin's lips. Now, she was not so certain how competent Gavin would look with his motley crew of ragamuffins.

Yet, she was not one to put stock in lovely, superfluous things. She would swallow her pride and show up to court wearing her hand-me-down gown. She would willingly be subjected to far worse, if it meant protecting her daughters' interests. She would get down on her knees and beg the king and country to spare her daughter, if she thought it would make a positive difference in Hannah's fate.

She knew it would not. Instead, she would smile and nod and keep her mouth shut. A closed mouth was a saved neck at court, she was more than certain of that. Despite her reservations, Sara did hope to get a glimpse of the Black Prince and the newest fashions at court. Maybe she could model her next gown in a more proper style.

T'would take a week to travel to court. Gavin had already sent a herald, one week hence, to announce their upcoming arrival and arrange time for their appeal to be considered before the court.

Although the ravages of the plague were waning, Gavin hoped they would only have to stay so close to London for a day or two, not so long that they would risk contagion. The expense of such an undertaking was also great. He would be forced to deplete the last of his coin to gain access to Lord Sander's capital.

Gavin felt like the ghost of a man. His wife and stepdaughter were barely speaking with him. Sara had taken to sleeping in the rocking chair, holding Elizabeth through the night. It was a transparent effort to keep him at arm's length. How could he be bending over backwards to accommodate the long-term safety of this family and still be treated like a leper in his own home?

It mattered not. He would do what was necessary to keep them safe, whether or not it was appreciated. There was much to do to prepare for the trip, as was. If all went well, he had a lifetime to smooth this ripple in his marriage. If all went ill, he may not have a wife to return to, elsewise. Gavin gazed over at Lady Sara; her head slumped against the back of the rocker; his resolve strengthened.
Best to leave sleeping dogs li
e
.

~

The sun shined, yellow and glistening atop the browning blades of grass. The small harvest had been reaped, the necessary repairs made, and orders given. Adam would maintain charge of the keep whilst Gavin was away. His soldiers would continue to care for and protect the lands therein. Gavin had given permission for two of his men to hunt the surrounding woods. It would serve the dual purpose of keeping eyes where they were needed and filling the larder for the upcoming winter. They would need several large kills to feed their ever-growing number.

All was squared away. Hannah and Sir David seemed content with their current arrangement, exchanging furtive glances across the hall each eventide. Twas only Sara who could not seem to throw off this mantel of depression that had settled so heavily across her shoulders.

A cacophony of black birds chirped the two wagons merrily on their way. Gavin had been nothing but chivalrous towards her since their altercation in the garden. In fact, he had made it a point to open doors for her and hold her seat at dinner. They still shared a trencher at every meal; he still reserved her the choicest pieces of meat. And yet, they never talked, were careful not to touch. Never in Sara's life had she felt more coddled, or more alone.

She was grateful that she would be sharing a sleeping mat with Millie, Hannah, and Elizabeth each night. Gavin, Sir David, and the two soldiers employed to guard and drive the wagons would take turns sleeping in the other wagon and standing guard.

Sitting atop the wagon bench with Thomas, Sara vacantly stared at the back end of Gavin's white stallion. It had been nearly four weeks since the birth of Elizabeth and much longer since she'd been on the back of a horse. What she wouldn't give to feel the wind on her face, the connection to the powerful animal, as she raced down the road.

Gavin and Sir David flanked the wagons in an attempt to keep an eye out for vagabonds and thieves. But, they also had the freedom to ride up and back a bit, to slow and speed their pace as they saw fit. The trip would be much less tedious for them.

By the second day of the journey, Hannah had left the wagon and been merrily walking alongside Sir David's trotting mare. They chatted amicably about this or that. Eying the young couple, caused a stirring in Sara's gut. They made her feel emotions that were unsettling. She felt...uncertain as to her disapproval of the match. She felt...isolated from her daughter. She felt...envious that Sir David and Hannah were relating in a way that she and Gavin could not.

Sara felt numb. Everyone around her chatted and laughed, ate and drank together. Hannah fairly floated about her daily routine, thrilled to have so much time with her budding romance. Sir David regaled the group with tales of battles won and lost, and Sara began to develop a grudging respect for the young man who reminded her so much of her own deceased father.

Perhaps, in time, David would turn into a worthy partner for her young Hannah. While she was in no hurry for Hannah to marry, she was happy that Hannah had found a suitable match. No young lady should have to marry a man old enough to be her father, though most did. If her daughter could escape that fate and still stay in the keep, under her and Gavin's protection, so much the better.

If only Gavin had seen fit to speak with her about this before he made such a grand decision on his own; maybe then they would not have had such a falling out. Maybe then, they would be speaking with one another civilly; they would be touching and laughing along with the rest of the traveling party. Instead, Gavin strolled about the perimeter, a trapped lion in a traveling show.

Twas not like Sara to feel so down and she didn't like it. She would have to do something about it. At their first rest stop, Sara took the opportunity to change baby Elizabeth and then hand her over to Millie.

Saying nothing to the group, she grabbed the dirty changing cloth and slid down the small hill to the stream that ran along the roadway. Rinsing the cloth in the stream, she thrilled at the icy feel to the water on her hands, the delicious sensation of being completely and utterly alone.

That must be part of my problem
,
she sighed, relieved to realize she could act to feel better. Sara had grown so accustomed to being alone, that this constant companionship of late was wearing on her nerves. She would have to learn to find time to slip off to herself more often.

A twig snapped behind her and she froze. A familiar, grating voice accosted her senses. “The Lady Sara, alone at last.”

Sara sprang up from her crouch and twisted to face her accoster. “What art thou doing here?” Sara demanded of Sir John Polk.

“I have come to stake my claim,” he glowered and flashed his tiny, yellow teeth.

“If I scream, ye'll be dead,” Lady Sara warned, voice shaking shamefully.

“If ye scream, ye'll be dead,” he chuckled, flashing his dagger.

“What do ye want?” Sara demanded. If he had planned on abducting her, he'd have done so by now.

“I want ye to ken, ye temptress of Satan, thy days are numbered. Won't be long now, I'll be placing yer current husband in the ground. Then, ye'll be mine to deal with as I please. I am the next and rightful Lord Sanders.”

Sara had lived long enough under a tyrant to know better than to contradict the man. He was clearly unstable and desperate. “If Lord Sanders finds ye here, he'll kill ye.”

“Meet me tonight, in the woods by yer camp,” Sir John demanded.

“Nay.” Sara shook her head.

“Meet me, or I promise ye I will be meeting up with yer daughter next. I won't be quite so chivalrous with her.” John Polk tilted his head towards the woods on the opposite side of the stream. At least ten men moved about in the sparse fall foliage, awaiting John Polk's command.

How had he amassed such a company? Her mind raced. According to Mortichai, Lord Polk had disowned Sir John. Where had he the funds or connections? Who was helping Sir John?

“T'would be unfortunate, were my brother to discover the truth about Lady Hannah's lineage,” Sir John shook his head in mock pity. Then, his head rose slowly and maliciously. “Nothing sadder than a lady, fallen from grace.”

Sara's body shook, imperceptibly. How had he discovered her darkest secret? How could he now threaten her precious Hannah?

“I only ask that ye meet with me briefly, and do one small favor. Meet and tell no one, or Lady Hannah will suffer the consequences,” stepping forward, Sir John grabbed the end of Sara's hair and cut a lock with his dagger.

Before she could do more than grab at her shorn locks, Sir John was gone. Shock descended around Sara. She heard nothing, thought nothing; time stood still.

“Tis dangerous and thoughtless to wander from the group, Lady Sara.”

Gavin's words felt like a slap to an open wound. Sara jumped, then drew her black cloak closer about her. She could not bring herself to respond to Gavin, but strode past him, to the wagons. Scooping Elizabeth from Millie's arms, she deposited the babe within the wagon bed before climbing in herself.

Gavin sighed. What could he do to restore the accord between them? He could not give in to her demands or allow her to act in ways that challenged his authority. Yet, with every passing day, Sara grew more distant towards him. Despite his earnest attempts at chivalry and manners, the lady was somewhere far from his reach. He felt very unsettled approaching court with his wife so disconnected. He hoped she was wise enough to act in the best interest of the family, and leave her personal feelings to herself. Surely, he could rely on her for that.

~

Sarah waited until midnight had long past before she slid from the wagon. Although the half moon glowed much too brightly for her liking, she was lucky in that James was on watch. He was skittish around her and could be easily manipulated. “All is well, My Lady?” he questioned, as she strode past the campfire.

“Aye, James, tis. I should nay have had so much cider with my dinner is all,” she chuckled, allowing her voice to sound heavy with sleep. Without another word, she slowly moved toward the tree line in an unhurried movement of a woman with nothing more important to do than empty her bladder.

The moment she reached the shadowed forest, Sara picked up her pace, moving toward what looked to be a small opening in the copse of trees. There John Polk stood, a dark smear upon the peaceful landscape.

He chuckled softly. “Ye have come-smart lass.”

“What is it that ye want?” Sara pressured, wishing to be done with this unholy arrangement.

“An answer to a question, is all. Ye married Gavin Williams, but is it a marriage, in truth? Ye have had a bairn and I'd wager the marriage has yet to be consummated.”

Sara took a step back from the clearing. “Ye ask a lady to speak of such things?” she hedged. “How dare ye!”

“I will take that as an answer,” he laughed moving towards Sara deliberately.

“I have shared a bed with my husband often,” Sara's voice trembled.

Feeling unsafe, she turned to flee, only to run into the broad chest of a stranger. The hulking mercenary grabbed Sara's arms, pinning them to her sides. She could hear the dry rustle of grass as Sir John closed the distance behind her.

Panicked, Sara kicked up towards the man's groin and was gifted with her release. Dashing to his side, Sara ran. Branches hit her outstretched hands and face and clutched at her gown. “Gavin!” she screeched, filled with terror, “Gavin!”

Sara's voice penetrated Gavin's restless sleep, adding another layer to his nightmare. Now, the tear-streaked face of Hannah being dragged away became Sara's. Again, he heard his name called, jarring him from his slumber.

Before he could think, he was stumbling from the wagon, sword in hand. “She's in the woods!” James' panicked voice called over his shoulder as he ran towards his lady's desperate pleas for help.

Gavin's heart lurched into his throat as he raced to close the distance. If anything happened to Sara-Thank God! She'd cleared the tree line, sobbing and tripping as she went.

Gavin rushed to her side, gathering her close. He looked past her for the pursuing threat.

“What is it, My Lady?” James coaxed. “A wolf?”

Sara shook her head against Gavin's chest. “Twas John Polk. He means to d-destroy us.”