Archangel (21 page)

He shut the door behind them.  It was cool and dark inside, a small window near the roof allowing for ventilation and a small amount of light.   Gart pulled her into his arms now that they had some privacy, rocking her gently.

“What is the matter, my love?” he murmured, his lips against her head. “Why do you weep?”

She sobbed miserably. “We are in trouble.”

Other than the obvious, he had no idea what she meant. “Why?”

She was sobbing so much that it was difficult for him to understand her.  “Since… since Julian and the queen have been lovers, he has not… not… touched me.  He said that it would not be right.”

Gart digested that statement, the ridiculousness of it, feeling a great deal of happiness in the declaration. But he was still confused.

“I see,” he wasn’t sure what more to say. “What does that have to do with anything?”

She pulled back, gazing up at him with a harried, frightened expression. “Because he will know he is not the father.”

Gart still wasn’t quite following her. “What do you mean?”

She struggled to calm herself, gazing into his handsome face and laboring to bring forth the words. “The baby,” she said softly. “He will know it is not his.”

“What…?”

“I am pregnant, Gart,” she interrupted him softly. “You have your wish. But Julian will know the baby is not his.”

Gart stared at her, such shock invading his features that, for a moment, it looked as if the man was about to blow the top of his head off.  He was stunned. Genuinely speechless, he pulled her into a crushing embrace.

“My sweet, sweet girl,” he breathed, holding her tightly. “How do you… are you certain of this?”

Emberley was tucked up against him, protected and safe.  She wanted to stay there for the rest of her life.  At the moment, she didn’t feel nearly the fear she had been feeling seconds earlier. Gart seemed to have the ability to suck the fear right out of her.

“I have had four children, Gart,” she said with some irony. “I know when I am with child. “

He suddenly held her at arm’s length, looking her over. There was a quiver to his movements, as if everything was all bottled up inside of him and waiting to come bursting forth.   Even his hands were shaking as he gripped her.

“But… how?” he asked, correcting himself when he realized how stupid that sounded. “What I mean to say is why did you not tell me before now?”

She couldn’t tell if he was upset or thrilled.  She wiped at the tears on her face, composing herself.

“I am only now certain,” she said. “I was not going to tell you my suspicions until I was certain.  There was no need to upset you.”

His eyebrows flew up. “Upset me?” he repeated, almost outraged. “Did you truly believe this news would upset me?”

She shrugged weakly. “I was not sure,” she said honestly. “In fact, while you were out shooting the buck, I was sitting at the table trying to determine just how I should tell you. It is not as if we do not have enough worries on our minds.”

He knew she was right. It was both joyous and terrible news.  With a heavy sigh, he pulled her back into his powerful embrace, feeling her soft warmth against him.  He leaned back against the cold stone, holding her as his mind wandered to the new scenario now presented.  Now, things had changed dramatically.

“It is not as if we did not know this could happen,” he said softly. “We have been with each other nightly. I did not have to spill my seed inside of you but… I was selfish. I wanted to. To lose that joy, that expression of my feelings for you, somehow made the act itself seem trite and incomplete.”

Her head was against his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. “I became pregnant very quickly with my children,” she murmured. “In fact, Julian has truly only touched me a handful of times since we have been married, and only then he did it until I conceived, which was mercifully quick. I seem to be very fertile. I knew this could happen but it did not discourage me.  You belong to me, Gart, as I belong to you. Conceiving a child in such love does not seem wrong.”

He grunted in agreement. “Nay, it does not,” he whispered. “But the fact remains that the situation has changed considerably. We must make some hard decisions and make them quickly.”

She was coming to feel afraid again.  “I told you once that I will trust you to do what is right. I still trust you, more than ever.  What shall we do?”

Gart had been thinking on that subject for more than seven weeks.  There were times he would wake up in the middle of the night, unable to go back to sleep because his mind was whirling with thought.  He would lay there with Emberley in his arms, staring at the ceiling and wondering what in the world he was going to do.  As much as he loved living a fantasy life at Dunster, the truth was that he could not do that any longer.  He had to make a decision and follow that path through to completion or the consequences could be deadly.

But he needed time to clear his thoughts. A pending child had changed everything. He put his enormous hands on Emberley’s face, kissing her sweetly in the dim light of the buttery.

“Go inside and take the nooning meal with the children,” he told her. “I will see you later and we will make plans.”

She nodded. “As you say,” she replied. “Will you not take the meal with us?”

“Nay. I will see you later.”

“Where are you going?”

He paused. “To see a priest.”

She blinked. “Priest?” she repeated. “What about?”

He grinned. “Can I not keep any secrets from you?”

She returned his smile, reluctantly. “I did not mean to pry, but if you are going to confession, do not go to the church in town or in Minehead. Those priests are loyal to Julian and they would not hesitate to tell him your confession.”

Gart nodded, his smile fading. “I understand. Thank you for the warning.  But I did not intend to go to confession.”

“May I ask what you intend to do?”

“I want to know what the church would consider grounds for a divorce.”

She looked at the man as if he had lost his mind.  Gart quietly opened the door, peering out into the kitchen yard to see that the cook and the two male servants had returned to butcher the buck.  They were far enough away that Gart and Emberley were able to slip from the buttery unseen. Gart touched her hand sweetly before moving off towards the stables while Emberley continued on to the keep.

Lost in thoughts of a divorce, Emberley rounded the corner of the keep from the stables and kitchen yard area into the main body of the bailey.  She could hear soldiers on the wall, shouting to one another, but she was used to the commotion and didn’t give it much thought.  Life went on around her, dogs and men and horses, but she ignored it as she pondered her future.  She was afraid, but she was also hopeful. At the moment, she couldn’t really decide what she was feeling because it was all so surreal. Like Gart, she needed time to sort her thoughts out as well.

Mounting the stairs, she noticed that there seemed to be a good deal of activity on the walls, enough that it jarred her from her thoughts.  Glancing up, Emberley could see that Gart had mounted the walls and his men were talking to him, pointing out into the countryside beyond.  Curious but not overly so, Emberley continued into the keep where her children were taking their meal.

Chapter Eleven

Gart caught a glimpse of Emberley disappearing into the enormous keep as his men described the rider that had been sighted a mile from Dunster. But he shifted his focus from Emberley to the approaching rider, curious and nothing more. A lone rider was not much of a threat so he climbed down off the wall and went to the gatehouse.   He ordered his men to lower the portcullis to half-staff, which would discourage the rider from charging in to the bailey yet not give off a completely unfriendly appearance from Dunstan. It was a precautionary measure.

Gart stood back in the shadows because if the rider was someone familiar to Julian, he didn’t want to be seen. He wasn’t supposed to be here.  Crossing his big arms, he waited expectantly for the mysterious rider to appear.

The man wasn’t long in showing himself. Hooves pounded and mail armor creaked as the rider slowed, approaching the gatehouse. A big brown charger with hairy white feet came into view and Gart recognized the horse immediately.  He’d seen that snappish beast before.

“Open the portcullis,” he commanded, moving forward as the horse slowed and began to move through the low-ceilinged gatehouse. “If he makes a wrong move, use him for target practice.”

The knight on horseback heard him, grinning as he raised his visor. Gart met him half-way through the cool passage of the gatehouse, a smirk on his lips.

“And so you have found me,” he said.  “Even at the ends of the earth, you have tracked me down.”

The knight nodded, leaning wearily against his saddle. “De Lohr said you might be here,” he replied, his blue eyes twinkling. “I must say, I am rather surprised.”

“Why?”

“Because you are not usually one to keep yourself in the wilds and out of the action.”

Gart wriggled his eyebrows. “Did you come to tell me about the action I am missing?”

The knight shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. “But I do bring a message for you.”

Some of Gart’s humor left him.  He motioned the knight forward, following him as he brought his charger into the bailey and laboriously dismounted.  The animal was sweaty and foaming, and the knight was nearly doing the same. Both were exhausted. Gart noticed the sheer fatigue and it concerned him; why was the man so strung out from his ride? What was so important that he was forced to ride so hard? He faced the man with more composure than he felt.

“How long have you been in the saddle?” he asked, making small talk as the weary knight removed his helm.

“Do you mean to ask if I have slept over the past week?” the knight’s dark eyebrows lifted with some irony. “The answer is I have not. I left Bellham Place six days ago and was told to make all haste for Dunster to see if you were still here.”

Gart eyed the knight; he had known Sir Kevin de Lara for several years, a rather short knight with the strength of Samson. He was young, very handsome, with blue eyes, a square jaw and bright smile.  Moreover, he had a good deal of charisma and was brilliant and honest to a fault. They had served de Lohr together for three years, having spent a full year in France on behalf of the king.  They had seen many adventures, and many battles, together. Consequently, Gart respected and trusted the man more than most. He considered him a friend.

“What is the message?” he asked with some trepidation.

Kevin looked around to make sure there wasn’t anyone within earshot.  He looked at Gart as he began to pull off his gauntlets. “Do you want me to tell you now or do you wish to go someplace more private?”

“Tell me now. What is the message?”

Kevin tucked his gloves into his saddle before facing Gart. He exhaled wearily, running a hand over his face.

 “De Lohr says to tell you that Buckland is sending an escort to Dunstan,” he lowered his voice. “The man wants his family with him in London.  David says to tell you that if you are still here, then to get out in a hurry.  Buckland’s men can’t be more than an hour or two behind me. I had to ride like the wind to avoid them.”

Gart stared at him. “Buckland wants his family with him in London?”