Vow of Deception (32 page)

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Authors: Angela Johnson

BOOK: Vow of Deception
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Chapter Thirty

Upon receiving the latest refusal by King Edward for a private audience, Rose took long, swift strides in search of Edith and Jason. Rand's townhome in Chester had a small but magnificent walled garden. Meadowsweet, with its frothy white petals, betony, with its purple-hued flowers, honeysuckle, and roses of white and pale pink grew in profusion in raised planter beds, imbuing the courtyard with an intoxicating concoction of sweet fragrance. But Rose was oblivious to all but her mission.

As Rose passed under an arbor of honeysuckle, a warm summer breeze wafted through her long flowing hair, which was held back by a circlet. Jason's childish giggles drew a smile from Rose. In a back corner of the garden, Edith sat on a bench below a hawthorn tree, many of its green leaves tinged with a reddish hue. Jason, wearing just his braies, played in a pool of water in the middle of the courtyard, his feet kicking sprays of water into the air.

Flicking back a loose lock tickling her cheek, Rose raised the missive in her other hand and waved it at Edith. “The king has denied my request for an audience, again. If Edward thinks his refusal will deter me, well, I am afraid he shall be disappointed.” Rose halted by the bench.

Edith gazed at her, raisin-brown eyes shadowed with concern. “Milady, what do you intend to do?”

“I intend to go to Chester Castle and stand day after day in the presence chamber like the rest of the supplicants petitioning the king.” Rose tipped back on her heels and, staring down, smoothed her hands over the red silk stretched over her rounded stomach.

She calculated four and a half moon cycles had passed since she and Rand had made love and conceived this precious babe she carried. Her heart blossomed with profound love and tenderness. But she could not prevent a ripple of sadness from marring her happiness. Rand should be here with her. He missed his son's birth and early years; it was not fair he would never know this child either.

Rose continued, “My condition being glaringly evident, I am counting on the king showing mercy upon me. If not, perhaps the queen will take pity on me and use her influence with the king to get me an audience. I shall not rest till Edward frees Rand from prison.” The conviction in her voice rang like steel.

“What do you hope to accomplish by speaking with the king?”

“I intend to persuade Edward that Rand did not truly betray him. The king knows Golan extorted my confession. Rand, therefore, should not be condemned for breaking me free from prison when I was not guilty of the crime Golan made me falsely confess to.”

“Do you truly believe the king can be swayed with reason?”

“I pray Edward's love for his cousin shall outweigh his anger that Rand broke his oath of fealty, and the king will pardon him.”

“You must not despair should you fail. You have Jason, and another child on the way to consider now.”

Aye,
Rose swore fiercely to herself,
I shall protect you, my sweet one.
Already she loved this baby more than her own life. She loved Jason just as much, but this baby was conceived in an amalgam of hope, love, and desolation; desolation because she'd thought she was going to die and never see Rand and Jason again.

Rose jumped, startled, when a small hare scampered into the garden. It froze not far from the pool. One beady dark eye stared at them. Jason scooped up water in his hands and, giggling, showered the hare with it. When the animal darted away, Jason leapt from the pool and gave chase. The hare, cornered, scrabbled beneath the hedge. Jason lunged for it with his hands outstretched. The hare made its escape. Catching naught but air, Jason fell onto his hands in the dirt.

Rose ran to his side, fearing he was hurt. But he just crawled to his feet, and laughing, he swiped his dirty hands onto his braies.

His eyes brightened upon seeing her. “Mama, did you see? I almost caught a hare.”

“Aye, I saw all right. I also see what a dirty mess you are.” She licked her thumb and wiped a bit of dirt off his forehead.

His feet and hands were muddy and his braies were covered with dirty smudges at the thighs and knees.

“I believe 'tis time for someone's bath.”

“Ah, Mama, I want to play some more. Can I?”

Since Rand's imprisonment, it was rare to see Jason so happy. She did not have the heart to spoil his playtime.

“Very well, dar—” Feeling a sharp twinge in her abdomen, Rose gasped and clutched her stomach. “Oh my.”

“Mama?”

“Milady, is it the baby? Are you all right?” Edith rushed over and wrapped her arms around Rose's shoulders. “I knew all your worrying was not good for the baby. I shall take you—”

“Nay, my dear friend, 'tis naught wrong with the babe. The opposite actually. The baby kicked me, I think.” She marveled.

“Can I feel the baby?” Jason leaned toward her eagerly.

She beamed at his enthusiasm. “Aye, son, here.” She grabbed his grimy hands and pressed them to the tiny bulge that protruded from her rounded stomach.

His eyes rounded, awe in his face. “I can feel him moving.”

She laughed, ruffling his shoulder-length damp curls. “Aye, I can feel him, too. Though you know, son, it could very well be a girl and not a boy.”

“Rose?”

Rose started at the soft, silken caress of the masculine voice. Slowly, disbelieving, she turned in the direction of the voice. Rand stood beneath the spreading canopy of the hawthorn tree, staring at her stomach. The leaves overhead fluttered in the breeze, dappling him with shimmering light. She skimmed her gaze over him from head to toe. His surcoate was ragged and dirty. His hair, long, lanky, and greasy, framed his dirt-begrimed, bearded face. Yet he never appeared more handsome to her.

His gaze shot up to hers.

She spoke in unison with Rand, shock palpable in both their voices.

“Rand, what…how came you to be here?”

“Rose, darling, verily? You are with child?”

A thrumming wonder and happiness began to beat in her breast.

She nodded, biting the corner of her plump lower lip, waiting for his response. She did not wait long. A huge grin spread across his bearded face; in a trice he loped toward her, then swung her up into his arms with one hand at her back and the other under her knees.

He spun her around, releasing a carefree laugh of exuberance she'd never heard from him before. She clutched his shoulders, laughing and crying with unbound joy. Then Rand set her down and clutched her face between his palms. His green eyes, lit with overwhelming pleasure, bore into hers. “You are having a baby. I still cannot believe it. By the looks of it, Jason shall have a baby brother or sister in five months or so.”

Jason nudged between them. “I am having a brother. Girls are no fun to play with.”

Rand released her, and laughing, picked Jason up and hugged him. “Girls are fun too. One day I am sure you will agree.”

Jason wiggled to be free. “I am too old to be picked up like a baby.”

Rand stumbled, appearing as though Jason was too heavy a burden to carry. “Aye, you are so heavy, I cannot hold you any longer,” he said, setting Jason down on his feet.

Jason giggled heartily. Rose smiled, so happy she felt like raising her voice to the sky.

“Milord, milady,” Edith interjected, “you no doubt wish to have your privacy to discuss all that has occurred of late. I can tend Jason for the nonce, and he may sleep with me in the servants' quarters this eve.”

Rose felt a flush on her cheeks, knowing Edith was giving them privacy for more than just talking.

Rand grinned, his eyes twinkling with laughter. But when he spoke his voice sounded calm and serious. “Aye, Edith, Rose and I do have much to…discuss. And I desperately need a bath to remove the filth of prison.”

“Come, Rand. I shall order a bath for you and find you some clean clothes,” Rose said.

But first, she turned and kissed Jason. “Good eve, son. Sleep well. Rand and I shall see you in the morn.”

Rand knelt down, hugged and kissed Jason.

“Your beard tickles, Papa,” Jason said, giggling.

Rand's throat visibly quivered. “Well, it appears I need to shave too. Good eve, son,” he said, a crack in his voice.

He stood up and held his hand out for her. His eyes glowed like hot steel. Her heart missed a beat, then began racing wildly with anticipation. Without hesitation, she slipped her hand into his warm clasp interlacing her fingers through his.

 

Rose held Rand's hand tightly as they walked in silence, tension building between them like a sultry wave of heat.

She quickened her pace to keep up with his longer gait. Upon approaching the arbor, he released her, then swung his arm out with a flourish for her to go before him. She grinned, curtsied, and hurried beneath the arch. When he stepped through the arbor, he swept her off her feet again, clutching her to his chest. She squealed in delight. He laughed and hurriedly raced to the outer steps leading to their bedchamber above the kitchen.

Rose had too many questions vying for an explanation. “How came you to be free?” she blurted out. “I wrote the king numerous times begging for your release. But every time he denied me.”

“Edward was disappointed I broke my oath of fealty. But breaking an accused felon from gaol was a blatant defiance of his authority.” She stiffened in his arms, about to refute the king's erroneous conjecture. “'Tis true you were not really culpable for Bertram's death, but appearances made you guilty all the same. So Edward wished to make an example of me. He may have planned to pardon me all along, but now that the main body of the army is to advance along the north coast of Wales into Llewelyn's territory of Gwynedd, the king pardoned me on condition I fight without remuneration in this or any other Welsh wars in the future.”

“When must you leave?”

“We have three days together before Edward and the fighting force move out from Chester.”

Her heart plummeted. “Three days! 'Tis not enough time. You have only just returned to us.” She searched his pale, thin face. “And you are much too thin. I know what sort of swill they serve in prison. Surely you need time to recup—”

At the top of the stairs, he reached for the door latch and pushed the door open with his knee, spun around, and slammed it shut with his back. He let her legs down and still holding her placed his finger over her lips to still her words.

Her legs quivered at his touch, while her breath hitched.

Rand said, his own voice breathless, “You are right. We do not have much time. And I intend to make the most of every waking hour we have till I must part from you and Jason again. I am grateful for the time I do have, because I know once the war is over, I am coming back to you, to home, to family. No war, or enemy, or king shall keep me from you!”

Rose's eyes welled with tears. “Aye, Rand, we are a family. Can you forgive me for lying to you about Jason? For not telling you he was your son?”

Rand spun away, pacing to the large canopy bed draped in dark blue velvet curtains. “Why did you keep such a secret, Rose?” Despite how much he loved her, that still hurt terribly. He'd wondered every day in gaol if Rose just did not believe him capable of being a good father to Jason. He rubbed the pain in his chest. “Why did you lie to me? You had so many opportunities to tell me the truth. Good God, that day at the wharf—that is what your strange behavior was about. You could have told me then.”

“I have no excuse, Rand. I was afraid—” She stopped abruptly, slow tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Afraid of what? Go ahead and say it. You are afraid that I shall make a terrible father, that I cannot even prevent my son from being abducted in my own dwelling.”

“Nay, Rand,” she cried out. “I have never believed such of you. How can you think that of me? Unless…surely you do not fear you cannot protect Jason? You saved Jason and me from the fire.”

“What of my mother and sister? They are dead because of me.”

“Nay, you were not responsible. Sometimes accidents happen. There is naught we can do about it.”

Rand's vision blurred. He felt his sister's arms slip from his neck, saw her floating down into the depths of the river, her eyes staring at him with reproach.

“Rand.” Rose's gentle touch upon his arm, her soft plea recalled him from his memories.

“I had Juliana in my arms, Rose, but I released her so I could live.”

“You were just a boy, Rand. You tried to save her. If you had not let her go, you would have died too. I would never have met you, and Jason would never have been born. Nor would you ever have protected me from marriage to Golan.

“And as far as your mother, do not belittle her sacrifice.”

“Her sacrifice?”

“Aye. Your mother
chose
to run into a burning building to save you. She risked her life because she loved you. Did you not do the same when we rescued Jason from Golan and Lydia and escaped from the hospital fire? Would you not do so again?” Her hands were alive as she talked, reminding him of the animated girl he knew before her first marriage. “Would you not risk any fear, any punishment, any torment to save Jason, or our baby who lies protected within my womb?”

Rand dropped his gaze to where her hands cradled their baby. Her red silk surcoate was smudged with Jason's muddy handprints. Without volition, he reached out and touched her rounded stomach, marveling that inside her belly was his child, a child they'd conceived as man and wife.

Rand raised his eyes back to her face. The last barrier around his heart shattered. Wonder filled him and his heart expanded. He'd discovered a renewed hope in the future and belief that their love for each other was strong enough to overcome their fears. Their love was forged in a cataclysm of fire, making them as strong and durable as steel. “You are right. Just moments before she died, Mother made me swear to never give up hope. She never gave up hope, and I am here, alive, about to be blessed with another child.”

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