Archangel (41 page)

“I do not believe you.”

David started snorting as he and Christopher continued their conversation about Julian and his disturbed behavior.  But as they muttered in the darkness, Romney caught most of what they were saying, especially the part about killing Julian. 

Although Romney was only seven years old, he was an exceptionally intelligent child. He realized in simple terms that the only way to save his mother and his family was to kill his father.  He had been protecting his mother all of his life but now that he was growing older, he could protect her better.  Especially from his father.

As he was lost to muddled thoughts, a servant entered through the small door next to the hearth with a big, steaming cup in his hand.  Christopher pointed to the boy and the servant handed Romney the cup of warm milk.  The servant disappeared as Romney sipped at the milk – it had cinnamon, nutmeg and honey in it, making it sweet and delicious.  He tried to gulp it down but it was too hot, so he settled for a steady, loud sip.

At some point, Christopher and David broke from their conference and came to sit near Romney.  The earl sat silently in a big oak chair while David sat behind Romney on a chair that was really two built into one, crafted from a giant piece of oak.  Romney sipped loudly at his milk, watching the men as they gazed at him.

“Do you have a boy, my lord?” Romney asked Christopher.

The earl smiled faintly, mostly because Romney had a huge milk ring around his upper lip. “I do,” he replied softly. “I have two daughters and a son who was born to my wife and I last year.”

Romney gulped a hot swallow. “Will he be the earl when he grows up?”

Christopher nodded. “God willing,” he said. “And I understand you have brothers and a sister, too.”

Romney nodded, gulping the last of the cup and dribbling milk onto his tunic. “My brothers are Orin and Brendt,” he told him. “My baby sister is Lacy. She likes to kiss everybody.”

Christopher’s smile grew. “Is that so?”

Finished, Romney set the cup down on the nearest table. “She loves Gart,” he told him. “She wraps her arms around his head and kisses his cheek until it is all wet. She slobbers all over him.”

Christopher bit his lip to keep from laughing, looking at David to see that the man was silently laughing as well.  Neither one of them could imagine the all-powerful Gart Forbes would allow a baby to slobber all over him.

“Well,” Christopher wiped a hand over his beard in an attempt to hide the smile. “That sounds delightful.”

Romney was feeling more at ease now that he had a belly full of warm milk. “One time, she hugged his head so that he could not see. Her arms were over his eyes and when my mother tried to remove her, Gart told her to let Lacy alone.  Lacy hugged his head and licked his scalp.”

David couldn’t help it; he burst out into soft laughter, quickly looking away when Romney turned around to look at him.  David stood up from his chair, struggling with the mental picture of Gart and a licking baby.  But it was at that moment that both brothers began to realize the extent of Gart’s devotion to Lady de Moyon and her children.  An ordinary man would not have tolerated a slobbery baby that was not of his loins, but Gart had.  Whatever he was feeling for the family went beyond simple lust for the mother.  It went deeper than they could imagine.

Sobering, Christopher stood up also and held out a hand to Romney.

“Perhaps it is time for you to return to bed,” he told the boy. “It was an honor to meet you, Master Romney de Moyon.”

Romney took the outstretched hand and Christopher shook his little hand kindly.

“Thank you,” Romney said. “Are you really going to let my mother and me stay here for awhile?”

“I really am.”

Romney’s relief was visible.  He turned around and David was there, holding open the solar door as Christopher and Romney passed through it. The hall outside was dark, the entry hall beyond even darker.  Romney wasn’t afraid of the ghosts with the big earl walking next to him. As they neared the dark stone staircase, there was a knock at the front door.

Christopher wasn’t concerned because whoever it was would have had to get past the gate guards first.  Trouble didn’t usually come knocking at the front door.  David moved past him to answer it.  He threw the big iron bolt and pulled open the panel.

Jonas was standing in the moonlight, wrapped in his heavy traveling cloak.  He looked dark and secretive, his eyes darting to the occupants of the entry hall.  His expression was taut with seriousness.

“Father Jonas,” David ushered the man inside and out of the cold.  “What are you doing here this time of night?”

Jonas pulled the hood off his dark, curly hair.  He noticed Christopher on the stairs with a young boy.  He had known the earl through his brother, having met the man on a few occasions. He acknowledged him.

“My lord,” he bowed slightly at Christopher before turning to David. “We must speak. Is Forbes here?”

David didn’t like the tone of the man. Something ominous filled him as he nodded.

“He is here.”

“Get him.” Jonas began removing his cloak as a servant suddenly appeared with a lighted taper.  The priest tossed his cloak at the hovering servant as he turned back to David. “Quickly. Take me someplace private.”

David immediately took the priest back into the solar as Christopher escorted Romney up to the sleeping chambers on the second floor.  He paused in front of the door where Lady de Moyon was sleeping, knowing that Gart was with her. He rapped heavily on the big oak door.

Christopher and Romney stood there a few moments, waiting, finally looking at each other as they heard movement on the opposite side of the panel.   Christopher rapped again and Gart yanked the door open a few moments later.

It was clear that Gart wasn’t pleased.  Standing the open doorway, bare-chested and with only his leather breeches on, he was prepared to take someone’s head off until he saw it was the earl.   Then he saw Romney and he went from angry to concerned all in a split-second.

“Rom?” he opened the door wider, his gaze on the boy. “What is the matter? You are supposed to be in bed.”

Christopher answered before Romney could. “Father Jonas has arrived,” he told Gart. “He has asked to speak with you.”

Gart stared at Christopher a moment, his features tinted with shock as he tried to gauge, from Christopher’s expression, what was going on.  There was no good reason he could think of that the priest should be here at this time of night.  After a moment, he nodded obediently.

“I shall be down shortly,” he said, reaching out for the boy. “Come back to bed, Rom.”

Romney turned to Christopher, his big blue eyes on the man. “Thank you for the milk, my lord.”

Christopher smiled faintly at the polite young lad. “You are welcome,” he replied. “I look forward to having more conversations with you, young Romney.”

Romney nodded, following Gart back into the sleeping chamber.  As Christopher retraced his steps back down the staircase, Gart shut the chamber door and went in search of his tunic.

By this time, Emberley was sitting up in the bed, making sure to cover herself up to her neck so her son would not see that she was completely nude.  Her eyes were wide on the child.

“Rom?” she asked. “Why were you with the earl?”

Romney continued walking towards the adjoining door that led into his sleeping chamber. “I went to talk to him.”

“What about?”

His brow furrowed. “I do not want to tell you,” he was grumpy, exhausted and emotional. “I wanted to talk to him and that is all.”

Gart found his soiled tunic and pulled it over his head. “That is
not
all,” he said. “You will not speak to your mother with disrespect. She has asked you a question and you will answer her.”

Romney stood by the adjoining door, frowning. “But it is my business. Why do I have to tell her everything? Maybe it is a secret.”

Gart cocked an eyebrow at the stubborn lad and opened his mouth but Emberley stopped him.

“It is all right, Gart,” she said softly, her eyes on her son. “He is growing up, as you said. If he does not want to tell me all of his business, that is his choice. But I do want to make sure he did not bother the earl. You are not in trouble, are you?”

When Romney shook his head, Gart spoke up. “You did not try to rob him, did you?”

Romney shook his head more firmly. “I do not have my sword.”

Gart grunted, finding his boots and moving to sit on the bed to pull them on. “You did not have a sword and you robbed me quite adequately.”

Romney started to make a face at him but throught better of it. “I did not rob him,” he repeated, looking to his mother. “May I go to bed now, Mama?”

Emberley nodded. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

Romney opened the adjoining door and passed into the dark room beyond, shutting the panel softly behind him.  Emberley’s gaze lingered on the closed door a moment before turning to Gart.

“What do you suppose he was doing with the earl?” she asked softly.

Gart finished pulling on one boot and moved to pull on the other. “I would not know,” he replied, glancing at her over his shoulder. “But with the priest here, I would encourage you to get dressed. I am concerned as to why he has come.”

As Gart finished with his boot, Emberley crept up behind him and embraced him from behind, her head on his shoulder and her arms around his waist.

“If it is not good news, promise me that we will run,” she whispered. “We will run back to Trelystan to retrieve Orin, Brendt and Lacy, and then we will flee. I care not where we go, Gart, so long as we are together.”

He turned to face her, pulling her into his arms. “What about Rom’s inheritance?” he asked softly. “You were so concerned that the boy be given his due.”

She shook her head, tears in her eyes. “It is more important that we are all together,” she whispered. “I put money and power over love and happiness and I should not have. Forgive me. Promise me that if the priest does not bring good news that we will flee tonight.”

He kissed her gently, holding her tightly against him. “I swear that we will never be apart,” he whispered, kissing her ear. “If that means we must flee tonight, then so be it. I love you, Em. Madly and deeply, I do. I swear I will do what is right and necessary so that we may be together always.”

She pulled back, smiling bravely for him as he kissed her once more.  Then he released her and stood up.

“Get dressed,” he told her. “Come downstairs when you are presentable.”

She gazed up at him, hesitant. “Are you certain?”

He nodded. “Aye,” he went to the door. “I want the priest to meet you.  Letting him see what I am fighting for will only strengthen our case.”

She nodded reluctantly, blowing him a kiss as he quit the chamber and quietly shut the door behind him. 

Tossing off the coverlets, Emberley leapt out of bed and went in search of the shift Gart had pulled off of her and the surcoats that Lady Emilie had left behind.  She tried not to let fear grip her heart, but it was difficult.

If Gart was concerned for the priest’s odd-hour visit, she was positively scared to death.