Authors: Kathryn Le Veque
From that point, the conversation was light and gay. Emilie discovered that Emberley was hysterically humorous and the pair laughed uproariously as they enjoyed warmed, watered wine and a variety of foods. The more Emilie came to know of the woman, the more sorrow she began to feel for her plight. She didn’t deserve what life had dealt her until she met Gart.
Around mid-day, Romney was starting to feel like a caged animal as he paced around the reception room while his mother and Lady de Lohr conversed about their respective childhoods.
Emberley could see that her son was restless so she casually suggested that they all go for a walk around the grounds. Emilie agreed quickly, giving sleepy Christina over to a servant as she took her new friends outside to show them the grounds of Bellham Place.
The day was moist and warm, and within a few minutes of being outside, Emberley’s faced was rosy and damp from the weather. The linen was a cool fabric and kept her relatively comfortable as she and Emilie began to walk the path to the lovely formal gardens north of the manse. There were massive oak trees lining the path and Romney tried to climb every tree he came across.
Emilie watched the boy try to sprint up a tree. She laughed when he fell off the tree and rolled around in the damp grass.
“Am I to understand that you have three boys, my lady?” she turned to Emberley. “I cannot imagine three boys with such vigor.”
Emberley gave her a half-grin. “Truly, you have no concept,” she shook her head with feigned resignation. “My boys are full of life and mischief. When Gart first came to Dunster, they robbed him as he entered the keep.”
Emilie burst out laughing. “They robbed the great Gart Forbes?”
Emberley giggled along with her. “Do not be so quick to laugh,” she told her. “They robbed your husband as well and would have beat him had he not given them a pense each. That was enough to keep the hounds at bay.”
Emilie laughed harder. “Say not so,” she begged, watching Romney race on ahead. “They are brave young men to attack such powerful knights.”
Emberley was forced to agree. She shaded her eyes from the sun, watching Romney pick up rocks and throw them at birds.
“Gart has tried to break them of it,” she admitted. “When we went to stay at Trelystan Castle, they robbed the lord of the keep several times before Gart found out about it. He made them return everything but then we found out that Lord de Lara had quite willingly gone along with the robberies. He even let the boys take him hostage and he ransomed himself with the promise of a gold crown each. That was when Gart put a stop to everything.”
Emilie was giggling throughout the story. “I hope I get to meet your boys some time,” she said. “Do you think they will try to rob me as well?”
Emberley shook her head. “They only rob men, thankfully. But I would still be careful if I was you.”
They paused by a fountain that was fed by a stream running across the property. Flowers of all kinds were blooming, foxgloves and hollyhocks reaching to the sky in a riot of color. Romney was throwing rocks at the crows that kept swooping in and Emberley thought it was all quite heavenly but for the absence of her other three children. She tried not to think of Orin and Brendt and Lacy because it only brought her to tears. She knew that Lord de Lara was spoiling them rotten and that they were well tended. Still, she missed them.
Emilie was watching Romney, oblivious to Emberley’s longing for her other children. She pointed to the boy.
“He has good aim with his rocks, my lady,” she observed. “He will make a fine marksman.”
Emberley turned to her. “Please call me Emberley,” she said. “It seems odd to be so formal with someone who has very nearly saved your life.”
Emilie smiled broadly. “You will call me Emilie,” she insisted. “Or Em. I will answer to either.”
Emberley lifted an eyebrow. “I am called Em, also. We very nearly have the same name.”
Emilie giggled. “The same name and the same blond hair, but that is where the similarities end.”
Emberley cocked her head. “Why do you say that?”
Emilie looked rather hesitant to speak, her gaze drifting over Emberley’s delicious figure, something that had not gone unnoticed by her or by the men at Bellham. She began to make hand gestures around her waist and bosom.
“Well,” she said. “You have… you are much better endowed that I am and… well, you are quite attractive.”
Emberley could see what she meant as she held her hands over her breasts like great cups and she burst out laughing.
“It is the pregnancy, I assure you,” she said. “My breasts grow enormous as the child grows.”
Emilie grinned in return. “As I recall, mine did as well. I look forward to that day again and, I am sure, so does my husband. He was quite… pleased.”
The two of them giggled like girls as the sounds of thunder caught their attention. Turning to the south, they could see a pair of chargers approach from the rear of the manse where the stable block was located.
Emberley recognized Gart’s black and white charger as he roared towards them. It was then that she noticed that Gart was leading a cream-colored pony with a black mane and tail. Romney saw Gart coming and he was nearly run over as he ran out to meet him.
Gart had to settle his charger down as the horse reared up, having been abruptly prevented from stomping on Romney. Kevin was beside Gart astride his silver charger, having brought up the rear.
“Gart!” Romney was jumping up and down, his focus completely on the pony. “Can I ride him? Can I please?”
Gart was dressed casually in a heavy tunic, breeches, big boots and a mail coat. On his hands were enormous leather gloves. He grinned down at the excited child.
“Lord de Lohr said you could ride him while you are at Bellham,” he handed the pony over to Kevin as he dismounted his charger. “What do you think of him?”
Romney was beside himself with excitement. “He is strong and fine,” the child gleefully ran up to the pony and began stroking his face. “What is his name?”
Gart looked over at Emberley, winking at her smiling face. “His name is George,” he replied, moving to the boy and lifting him up into the saddle. He put the boy’s feet into the stirrups and took the reins from Kevin, handing them over to Romney. “Do you think you can ride him?”
Romney nodded eagerly, kicking the pony in the sides to get him going. As the adults watched, Romney directed the pony straight through the flower garden, knocking over a tall stalk of hollyhocks. Emberley winced.
“Rom!” she called. “Take the pony out of the garden!”
Romney steered the pony out of the garden but not before tramping over several other bushes. Emberley sighed heavily, looking apologetically to Emilie.
“I am sorry,” she said. “He has not ridden by himself very much. I will make sure he stays out of the garden.”
Emilie waved her off. “No need,” she assured her. “He is welcome anywhere, even in the garden.”
Emberley chuckled softly, turning to Gart as the man stood there, watching Romney trot around on the pony. She greeted Kevin amiably as she made her way over to Gart.
“That was sweet of you to bring him a pony,” she said. “He has been pacing the floors endlessly all morning. This will give him something to do.”
Gart smiled at her, wrapping an enormous arm around her shoulders and pulling her against his torso.
“I could see this morning that he needed something to occupy his time,” he replied. “Without Orin and Brendt, there is no one for him to play with.”
Emberley nodded, watching Romney bounce around in the saddle as the pony trotted. “Have you sent your men for the other children yet?”
Gart nodded. “They left about an hour ago,” he told her. “They have strict instructions to ride hard to Trelystan, collect the children, and return as quickly as they can without causing the children undue stress.”
Emberley sighed. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “I miss my babies. It will be so good to have them in my arms again.”
“It will be good to have all five of you back in mine.”
They grinned at each other and Gart kissed her forehead. As they turned back to watch Romney, the boy kicked the pony a little too hard and the little beast bucked, sending Romney flying off onto his arse.
As Emberley flinched, Gart let her go and made his way over to the boy, who was picking himself off the dirt and rubbing his bum. Kevin spurred his charger after the run-away pony, corralling the animal near the main gates of Bellham and leading him back over to the little boy with the bruised pride.
“Are you well?” Gart looked Romney over, brushing the dirt off the boy’s back. “No broken bones?”
Romney shook his head, looking rather sheepish. “I… I was not holding on tightly,” he told him. Any excuse was better than the truth that the horse had managed to throw him because he was inexperienced. “I will hold on tighter next time.”
Gart simply nodded, unwilling to damage the boy’s pride further, as Kevin brought the pony back around again. As Gart instructed Romney how to mount the pony from a standing position, they began to hear dogs barking upon the wall. Bellham Place had several dogs, in fact, some roaming around the grounds in packs while others were used by the sentries. Three or four dogs stood at the closed front gates, barking through the iron grate.
Gart didn’t give any thought to the dogs as he helped Romney mount the pony again. Even Kevin wasn’t paying any attention. Emberley strolled upon her son, watching him adjust himself in the saddle and commenting on his proud stance on horseback. She suspected his pride needed some mending after the fall so she made a good attempt.
Romney made a second attempt to ride the pony, reining it in the direction of the open lawn area to the east of the garden. Gart took Emberley’s hand, pulling her out of the way as Romney tried to direct the stubborn little pony.
Emilie eventually joined them. As the four adults watched Romney take another try at riding horseback, a sentry from the gates came jogging over to their group. Gart heard the mail grating and turned just as the soldier was upon them.
“My lord,” he saluted Gart. “A party approaches the gates.”
“Who?” Gart asked.
“Papal standards, my lord,” the guard replied. “Blue, red and yellow.”
Gart stared at the man a moment before looking to Kevin. “Westminster?” he cocked his head, confused. “Those are his standards. Do we know any other papal standards that bear those colors?”
Kevin shook his head. “I do not know of any,” he replied. “Westminster is only four or five miles to the west. It must be them.”
Gart’s confusion was growing. “Why would they come here?”
Kevin sat straight in the saddle and reined his charger for the gates. “I shall find out their business.”
Gart watched the man trot away, still relatively unconcerned at the visitors. He took Emberley by the hand and directed her towards the manse.
“I am not entirely sure who this is or what they want, so it would be best if you and Emilie retreated to the house for now,” he told her, a kiss to the temple. “Lady Emilie, I shall inform your husband we have guests.”
The ladies were unconcerned, doing as they were told. “What about Rom?” Emberley asked.
Gart turned in Romney’s direction, emitting a piercing whistle between his teeth and waving the boy over when the child turned to look at him.
“I will collect him,” he told her. “Go inside now and prepare for visitors. I will be in shortly.”
Arm in arm, Emilie and Emberley headed for the manse. Gart watched them go before turning to make sure Romney was on his way. The boy was heading in his general direction even though the pony was trying its hardest not to cooperate.