A Widow Plagued (5 page)

Nodding, Sara dared to say aloud. “Might I sometimes accompany thee?”

“Whatever for? What interest might thou have in men’s business?”

“My interest lies in seeing more of the world than this bit of land. I have a wish to travel.”

“I will not risk thy safety unnecessarily. Thou may accompany me when I visit other estates, however. Wouldst that suit?”

“Thank ye, Gavin. That would be something.”

A long silence ensued in which both Sara and Gavin examined the bits of information they had gathered about the other. Suddenly, Sara spoke out, needing to clear the air about her babe. “I am eight months gone, my Lord. I expect that the baby will come in time to harvest the crops. I have fretted over how we will manage.”

“My men are experienced farmers. Many have left their service of noble households when the promise of reimbursement could not be made. I am in the position to pay them well for their services. I also treat them well. I will expect the same of thee. Gone are the times that servants were attached to the land they worked. There are fewer serfs to go round. They go where they can earn a good salary and be treated fairly.”

“Have I not shown my ability to retain loyal help, My Lord? I have been unable to pay Millie and Adam. Yet, they have stayed. I hope that thou will listen to their input on the running of the household. They are both most clever and hard working.”

“I have seen that for myself... Sara, we must plan for how we will defend our marriage, if it is to be challenged. I will not insist on bedding thee in thy delicate condition. T’would not be wise. Yet, I must ask that if thou art questioned, ye imply that our marriage has been consummated. Many lives depend on our successful claim on this title.”

“I hope to never be questioned about my wifely duties; if I am, I feel confident that I will represent our marriage well.”

“Good,” said Gavin, setting down his cup and looking at Sara approvingly. “Shall we retire? It has been a long day for both of us.”

Despite herself, she began to panic. She was afraid to lie abed with this man, even though he had promised not to bother her physically.

“W-wouldst thou care for some more cider, Sir Gavin? There is plenty more. Here, let me get it for thee,” leaning to grab his mug, Gavin stopped her by wrapping his hand about her wrist.

“I thought we agreed ye would call me Gavin.”

“I-I forgot. Wouldst thou like some more cider, Gavin?”

“Nay, Sara. I would not. I would like ye to come and sit closer to me.”

At Sara’s distraught expression, Gavin realized that this would not be as easy as he had hoped. Sara was obviously going to need some convincing. Following the path of least resistance, he scooted himself nearer to her.

“The air tis growing chill, Sara. Why don’t ye sit closer to the fire?” Scooting her nearer to the flames, Gavin sat before the hearth, leaned against the bed frame, and looked at his wife. Her open-necked under gown of undyed linen left her looking young and innocent. Sara leaned forward; loosely hugging her legs, she unwittingly obscured the evidence of her growing pregnancy. Her hair hung loose down her back, completing the picture of a virginal bride.

If he didn’t know better, he would be tempted to think that she had no idea what came next.
Perhaps her experiences have been limite
d
.
Perhaps she has not yet come to know the pleasures of the marriage be
d
, he thought. A wicked, selfish ball of hope flared at this thought. Some part of him wanted to be the only man to have ever brought his wife pleasure. Yet, to think this way, he realized, would be to wish that she had suffered injustice from her first husband. This he would not do.

As much as he wished to claim her for his own, he must do so in a way that would engender her trust and loyalty. Gavin wished to develop a closeness and affection with his wife over the next few weeks, while they awaited the birth of her first child. Yet, he refused to give her the upper hand. He would also communicate his complete authority over her.

Upon entering the bed chamber, Gavin had removed his belt and sword. Still, he felt much too over-dressed for the occasion. Hoisting himself unto the bed, he demanded, “Sara. Please help me remove my chausses. I find I have grown much too warm.”

Sara kneeled to do so. She was surprised when Gavin placed his hand upon her head as she pulled off each shoe and legging. The gesture felt reassuring and affectionate. A tear came to her eye. She could not remember the last time she had been touched so tenderly. Not since she was a young child, she figured.

“Thank ye, Sara. Wouldst thou place my clasp beside my sword?”

Smiling, she rose to take his clasp to the window seat. She found comfort in these menial tasks; they took her mind from the reality of her situation. Turning, she saw that Gavin too had risen and was now unbuttoning the front of his dress shirt. As the rough spun green silk fell away from his shoulders, Sara gaped at the expanse of chest revealed. Each muscle stood defined along Gavin’s front. He looked sleek and powerful, not bulky as his size would suggest. She was fascinated. Gavin was thirty, not fifty, she reminded herself. Apparently, this made a great deal of difference in a man’s physique.

He will definitely be disappointed in my fram
e
, she thought.
I have not so many muscles and far too much belly.

Sara looked away quickly and busied herself with arranging Gavin’s clothing. He had brought only what would fit in his pack. Choosing a plain white linen shirt, she shook it out and turned to hand it to Gavin.

“I have no intention of dressing for bed, My Lady.”

Looking at him, she gasped despite herself. He stood in front of her completely dishabille. And he was magnificent. Candlelight and firelight danced and swirled with the shadowed crevices of his frame. He was like an angel of vengeance, her disarming knight.

“Come here, Sara.”

Sara stood still. She felt as if she were made of marble.

Gavin stood before her and waited. He did not intend to repeat himself. Finally, after several tense moments, Sara’s feet moved of their own volition. Somehow, she came to be standing in front of Gavin.

Somehow, her wrists became enveloped in Gavin's hands. “I need thee to trust me, Sara. I need thee to trust me to protect ye and take care of ye. If thou dost not, we may both be harmed. Can ye understand that?”

She bobbed her head, slowly, looking into his sage green eyes, she felt her shoulders relax.

“Close thine eyes,” he commanded.

Narrowing her eyes at him, in question, she sighed and then obeyed.

Gavin pulled her closer, then waited for her shoulders to relax again. Running his finger along her temple and down her neck, he followed the light touch with his kisses. Sara gasped and opened her eyes. “Close thine eyes,” he demanded.

As she complied he continued to trail his finger down and around her full lips. As they fell open softly, Gavin leaned in to press his lips to hers. Lifting his head, Gavin noted that Sara’s eyes were squeezed shut, as if she were bracing herself for an impact. Gavin bit his tongue against the chuckle that rose in his throat.

“Sara, look at me, please.” Opening her eyes, she peered at her husband expectantly. “Did ye like my kisses?” Gavin whispered, gifting her with a crooked grin.

Sara could not help but smile back. It was all the answer he needed. Grasping her hand, Gavin led the Sara to the large bed. Sara gasped as Gavin swooped her up in his arms and deposited her upon the over stuffed feather tick. She laughed a bit and fell back into the enveloping softness as Gavin crossed around to climb onto his side. Resting his head upon his hand and facing his bride, Gavin contemplated her expression.

“How didst thou know that this is the side of the bed I sleep on?” Sara asked, curiously.

“Ye have a side table with a candle and a journal. Thou art also expecting. When my sister was as far along as ye are, she could not abide the side of the bed by the fire. She became overheated. It made sense that ye would lie here.”

Sara couldn’t hold back the pleased smile that played across her face. “Thou art observant,” she responded with sparse praise.

“I am a trained knight. Being observant is a necessary survival skill.”

“Many men do not bother to make observations about the women in their lives, however, Sir Gavin.”

“I find observance of women an equally important survival skill, My lady. Especially when tis a woman with whom I lie down to sleep.”

“Well played,” Sara chuckled.

“For instance, I have observed that thou art now referring to me as ‘Sir Gavin’, not ‘Lord’, not ‘Gavin’. This is an important observation. Thou hast clearly communicated that ye do not consider me the entitled baron, nor dost thou consider me thy unquestioned partner. As much as I am proud of my history as a knight, of my service to the king, I would prefer that my wife acknowledges me as her rightful Lord and husband.”

“Thou art my rightful husband, Sir Gavin; in that we have come to an agreement and taken vows. It remains to be seen whether ye will acquire the title and become rightful Lord of these lands.”

“If I cannot convince thee of my right, how can I expect to convince the court? I need thy support in this, My Lady. Thy fate is now wound up with mine. The fate of thy children depends on my ability to secure these lands and this title.”

“So thou wouldst have me believe. I am not yet completely convinced of the fact, Sir.”

“Call me Gavin, at least. I would not have ye put the distance between us. If others hear ye refer to me in such a way, they will question my authority here.”

“Very well, Gavin. If my child is a son, this title and land will rightfully be his. I will not concede to any plan that will undermine his right. I fear that ye will question the legitimacy of my son, upon our meeting with the court. I do not know thy true intention.”

“Challenging thy child’s birth right would not help my current position. Being married to and father of the legitimate heir will insure my authority here, even if it does mean that I am not the Lord and my sons will not inherit... I must admit; I would prefer thy child be a female. Being the father of a child that out ranks me would prove a challenge.”

“Ye consider thyself my child’s father?”

“I am not the bairn’s sire, but I am the father. I committed to be when I married thee, did I not?”

“This is true. I am no less a mother because I did not bear Hannah. I have cared for her since the day she was born. I have cared for her as if she were my own...”

“I will do the same, Sara. Hannah and this new child will be treated as well as any other children we might have. On that ye have my word. I have known the harsh hand of an apathetic stepfather...”

“I can only hope that thy good intentions are not too sorely tested, S-er ...Gavin. Tis well and good to intend to give Hannah and my child equal treatment. Once we have other children, ye might feel more attached to them. They might look or act like thee-they will be thy blood and bone. Thou will want them to have all that thou can offer. Thou might resent their having to give up thy title, lands, and wealth to another.”

“Thy children are now my children. They are more closely related to the title than I. I will hope for the title so that I might have the authority to care for these lands and discipline my children. I will not resent sharing the bounty with those who deserve it. Every child deserves two parents who will care for them and treat them kindly. I wish ye to trust that I will treat any child of mine well and show no preference amongst them.”

“Very well, I shall take thee at thy word. Might I reserve the right to advise thee, if I see that thy treatment of one child displaces the importance of another?”

“As my wife and the mother of our children, I would expect nothing less.”

Nodding, Sara smiled softly and rested her head upon her goose down pillow. Shear exhaustion weighed upon her eyelids and chest, causing her to fall into a dreamless sleep.

Gavin was not so easily lulled into rest. The events of the day had served to fill him with excess adrenaline. Instead, he used the opportunity to examine his new wife, unobserved. Her fair eyelashes rested against smooth pink cheeks. Her nearly translucent skin pulsed with life. She was a dragon turned angel in slumber. Twas strange that he could feel such a connection to a woman he had met only hours before. Yet, looking at her long, elegant limbs and thick, wavy blonde hair, Gavin felt as if he were the luckiest man alive.

The fact that she was heavy with child was not as off-putting as he might have imagined. Gavin was intrigued with the round bulge beneath her full breasts. In a few short weeks, he would be a father. The thought thrilled him and terrified him.
Thou art already a fathe
r
, he reminded himself, as he thought of thirteen-year-old Hannah. He would now be responsible for a wife, a home, an infant, and a marriageable daughter, in addition to his troops. The privilege of such responsibility, one he had long sought, seemed to have coalesced in the blink of an eye.

Reaching out tentatively, Gavin placed his hand on the abdomen of his sleeping wife. He felt a flutter, and then a rolling sensation, as if the child had moved towards his hand. Gavin’s heart constricted. He had been ten the year his father died. Twenty years without a warm embrace or encouraging word from family was a long time-too long. It was unsettling, how much he wanted this family, wanted to be embraced by this woman, by her children.