Debra Kay Leland (19 page)

The Earl concerned eyes sank to the pale thin grief stricken girl who stood looking up at him
with lost eyes.  He drew a tense breath, his voice deep with emotion though he held it back. 
“…Where have ye buried him?”

She hesitated
but a moment, and drew her red rimmed eyes from the man before her, her voice a mere whisper. 
“…In—in the meadow beyond
…”  She frowned and walked past him unsteadily, hardly aware of the gazes that followed her as she made her way towards a huge oak tree that stood there.

Edmund glanced at his men with a sorrowful look.  “Stay here.”

His long strides carried him towards her, bringing him up alongside the fragile looking girl.  Her hands were clutched to herself, her face pale and filled with grief, her eyes never leaving the small wooden cross that lay under the huge lush branches of the big oak.   Her footsteps faltered only once and she stopped, then she took another unsteady step to where her William now lie.  She choked back a sob and held her hand to her mouth to silence the onslaught of tears that took her yet again.

Edmund’s gaze shifted to the small wooden cross and the wild flower
s that had been planted there with tender care, and then to the young girl at his side.

“…He—he did not want me to see him die… that’s why he sent ye away also… he—he said he wouldn’t be able to go if he saw our tears…  He came here alone—he knew he was dying, but I followed… and I—I held him in my arms…” 
She nearly collapsed at the weight of her words, but he reached out and drew the frail girl hesitantly into his arms, though she stiffened, he held her there with tenderness. 
“Oh lass, I am sorry…”

His words made the tears she had been trying to hold back trai
l down her pale cheeks again.

“Ye loved him…”

“
Aye—I loved him…”

He
had disregarded the peasant girl that his son had chosen to be his wife when he had first seen her a month ago, but now he saw that indeed she had loved him and had made his son happy here and he was glad for it. 

He
held her there under the same oak his son had gone to; where he lay now, part of the meadow in which he had made his home. 
Grief…  Sorrow…
 
Regret… 
His blue eyes filled with tears again as they had since he learned of the boys illness.  He had lost everything that was important to him when he had lost William…

Time seemed to pass without either of them knowing it.  He noticed how the
girl trembled and he drew her away from himself to look down into soft blue eyes heavy with grief. 
“Are ye well?”

She shook her head
and looked away.  He noticed the thin hand that now lie on her rounded stomach and his heart stilled…
a child… dear Lord… William’s child…!
  He put a strong tanned finger under her chin and lifted her face towards his.  He studied the beautiful pale face for a long moment before he spoke gently to her. 
“Ye are heavy with his child, lass?”

She nodded and bit back another sob.  He drew her against him
again and shut his eyes tightly, holding back the tears that took him at her words, for surely he had prayed for such a thing. 
“Shhh, lass, all shall be well…”

He turned her
then and helped her back towards the long narrow house.  She faltered in her steps and he wordlessly lifted her into his strong arms.  A whimper of protest slipped from her lips, but he did not answer it, nor did he meet her gaze as his low soft voice soothed her worried heart. 
“Ye are weary, and I shall not have thee collapse at my feet without helping thee.”

She closed her eyes then, too tired and too
weak to think of it further.

He glanced down at the thin young girl in his arms, who weighed no more than a mere child herself.  She was beautiful, very beautiful—
and she was Welsh, a mere peasant girl, no better than a foreigner, and an enemy in times past—and yet she was the wife of his son… 
But despite his wayward thoughts, this lass carried a child who shared his blood, and the only thread that bonded him with William was within her…  He didn’t care that his heir would be but the child of a poor Welsh peasant—
nothing mattered, as long as it was William’s!

He laid the girl on her unmade bed and pressed her shoulders down into it when she would have sat up.  “Nay, lass, ye are not well enough to be up.  Lie down and I shall get thee something to drink.
”

He went and brought her a cup of fresh water from the well and pressed it into her trembling hand.  She lifted her head and drank
it with a soft word.

He sat down, elbows on knees, not looking at her
as he spoke.  His mind going in directions he knew she would not be pleased to know. “…Did William know of the child?”

She nodded softly
hardly able to take her eyes from his face that reminded her so of William’s that it made her heart ache, as she answered in a quiet voice, “Aye… after ye left that day I told him I thought I was with child…  He—He said it was a gift from the Almighty…”

He drew a long breath at her words wondering why William had not sent
word to him of the child, but then perhaps he feared the girl would yet lose it…  “Have ye eaten?”

She blushed and
finally looked away from him.  “Phillip and Thomas have taken good care of me.  Though, I have not kept much of the food they prepare down.”

He looked at her and took her thin hand.  “I’m sorry, lass.  I know how much ye loved him…”  He drew a long breath before he spoke again.  “Lass, I would like to take ye with me when I go ba
ck…”

S
he shook her head and bit back tears, not looking at him now. 
“Nay, this is my home…!  And I—I shall not be far from him…”

Edmund sighed and looked down again. 
“’Tis not safe for ye here, and being alone and with child—ye need to be cared for.”

She shook her head aga
in wordlessly.

He gave her a long determined look.  “I must to insist, l
ass.  I am sorry—but ye may carry the next Earl of Whittington within ye.  Ye are now the widow of my son and mother of my only heir.  It is not safe for thee to be alone, and I shall protect ye and William’s child with my very life.”

She sat up
unsteadily at his strong words and looked at him with hopeless teary eyes. 
“B—but… I—I do not wish to go…”

He silenced her with a look.  “We leave within the hour.  Rest now, while I see to thy comfort.”

Before she even had time to answer he was out the door again.  She laid back and stared at the dark ceiling above her, silent tears slipped from her sad eyes… 
All seemed to be pressuring her till she didn’t know what to do…!

The Earl went outside and informed his men that they would be leaving
soon and taking the girl with them.  They found a cart and horse in the barn and harnessed it; he would take no chances with William’s wife nor child, whether she understood that or not.

Phillip and Thomas came from the edge of the woods carrying a deer they had shot with an arrow on a pole between them.  They hurried once they saw the Earl and stopped, hefting the animal’s weight to the grass aside the barn before they drew near and bowed.  “M’lord.”

“Phillip, Thomas, I am taking William’s widow with me to Whittington.”  He looked down and shifted on strong legs, then lifted his head and looked around the meadow once again.  “Because my son loved this place and called it home…  I would have ye to stay here and tend it for him, and keep watch of that which was important to him.”

The two men nodded, for it was love and loyalty th
at bound them to their friend and they would gladly stay to finish the work he had begun.

He smiled and took a bag of silver from his tunic and handed it to them.  “I shall send men on the morrow to see to thee, tell them of thy needs and I shall make sure ye are well taken care of here.”  He looked to the great oak where his son now lie.  “Watch over my son…  His widow and his child shall one day return here to see this place again...
”

The two men bo
wed.  “Aye, m’lord, we shall.”

Within the hour the Earl went into the clean narrow house again without knocking.  He found the girl seated by the fire, her
weary head in her hands.  He touched her shoulder, but she didn’t look up.  “Come now, lass, we go.”

She shook her head with a quiet sob.  All that he was, was here, and if she left this place, he would be so far from her. 
“I—I cannot leave him….”

He took her arm and drew her gently to her feet
despite her words, her lost eyes going to his determined face.  “Phillip and Thomas shall take care of the farm and the village, and ye may visit here again… but for now I must look out after thee and thy child.  ‘Tis for the best, lass…”

He didn’t wait for an answer but drew her along with him towards the door.  His men watched the pale girl aside their master, her shaken appearance made them sorry for what they did.  Edmund stopped before the cart that had been softened with furs and lifted her carefully onto the back.  He took her trembling chin in his hand and looked into sorrowful blue eyes that were wide and unsure.  “’Tis for the best, lass… now sit back and be comfortable, we should be at Whittington before night fall…”

She didn’t answer as she sank down onto the furs; her grief filled eyes trained on Phillip and Thomas as the cart lurched ahead and took her away.  They nodded softly, as if giving her their blessing to leave, but her only answer was the silent tears that ran down pale unsure cheeks.

Edmund rode his horse behind the cart, his deep blue eyes on her soft worried face as they went.  He knew what he had done was cruel, but he would not lose his heir or the only connection he had left to his own beloved son…!

Sometime along the journey she had laid her head down and rested her eyes, only to come awake at the sound of the roughened wheels as they went across the wooden draw bridge.  She sat up unsteadily and was met with his determined eyes once again, before she glanced around at the huge stone castle made from a light quarry stone that loomed all around her.  It was tall and formidable—and intimidating.  She had never been far from her village and never before seen something like this!  She drew back and held herself tightly as they entered the courtyard; servants greeted them, others looking on her curiously as she sat pale and trembling hardly able to comprehend what was happening around her.  Edmund hardly noticed them, his eyes still trained on the frightened look on the girl’s young face.  He stopped his horse and dismounted, then went to the cart where she still sat, her eyes wide with fright and wet with tears.

“Come, lass.”
  He said in a soothing tone and held out a hand.  She looked to the face that so reminded her of William’s and then slowly stood up.  He lifted her down carefully as if she might break and put a steadying arm around her thin shoulders. 
“Do ye feel well enough to walk?”

She nodded numbly,
yet she was not sure of anything right then as she walked beside him towards the tall curved stairs that led to two massive arched doors.  Curious eyes followed them, though she was now hardly aware of any of it as he drew her along beside him with gentle soothing words…

Edmund took
the girl inside the great hall, hundreds of candles flickered around the large room, beautiful ornate tapestries hung on the wall, and clean rushes lined the floor.  The place smelled like spices and wood, and she stepped back uncertainly…  But he did not release her as he drew her along beside him with a gentle word towards the center of the grand room.  His steward walked from the halls beyond and met them there, he was an older man with short graying hair.  He bowed reverently as he greeted his lord with a smile.  “Welcome home, m’lord.”

The Earl only nodded in acknowledgement
never taking his eyes from the girl whose arm he still held gently as if she were a frightened child.  “Nigel, this is William’s widow.  Have Amelia come and see her to the lady’s guest chambers…  Nay—not the guest chamber, see her to William’s chamber instead.”

She glanced at him at the mention of William’s name.  He looked down at her with concerned eyes. 
“I hope that it shall help to make thee feel more welcome here.”
  He couldn’t help but notice the tears in her soft blue eyes at his words or how she still trembled...

The steward left and went to bring the young maid to her.  Edmund lessened the hold on her thin arm then.  “I want ye to be happy here, lass.  The castle shall be a change for thee I know, but I think we can make ye comfortable, and keep
thee and the child safe here.”

She answered him softly.
“…Am I in danger...?”

“My son
James, was murdered… and there have been attempts on my life as well.  As William’s widow, thy title puts ye and his heir in danger from ‘my enemies’ also.”
  He wanted her to feel the risk, hoping it would bind her here and to him even more; but if he had to, he would lock her in the tower to keep her at Whittington even against her will.  He’d lost everything and he would not lose William’s child as well…!