Debra Kay Leland (23 page)

As they walked on, she stopped then closed her eyes with a heavy frown as child moved hard within her.  She rested her hand on her rounded stomach, as
she stilled.

He touched her arm lightly.
“Are ye well?”

She nodded and bit her lip, not bothering to look at him.  “
’Tis but the child…”

He smiled softly and looked at her
with gently.  “Surely, William’s child does not makes ye look so sad now?”

She didn’t look up as she continued, “Nay, ‘tis only that I wish he were here to share it with me…  I miss him and each day I wonder if this is where he would want me to be.”

He watched her with kind eyes.  “I believe he would.  And soon, it shall be easier and easier to let go of those thoughts.”

She looked up. 
“Let go?!  My thoughts are all I have left of him …!”

He frowned down at her knowing she hadn’t
understood his words.  “’Tis true… but he is gone, Miranda, and ye must go on without him.”  He looked into blue eyes that filled with tears at his words, and he felt his own heart ache.

She did not look at him as she spoke, offended at his words.  “…I—I go on because the sun rises without my consent and the day drags me with it, and for a child who deserves to see life and know of the goodness of its father.”

He reached up and wiped away the tear that had slipped from her eye, but she only pulled away warily before she turned to Nigel who lingered at the door with pleading eyes. 
“…Nigel, please… take me back inside
.”

She turned then without a word and left him there in the lush fragrant garden staring after her as she entered the house.  He drew a deep breath and turned towa
rds the castle door himself knowing he’d have to satisfy his uncle’s curious questions as to why the girl had returned without him.  And it somehow bothered him that she was so wary of him, when in reality he shouldn’t really care at all.  Yet somehow, he found himself desiring only to see her smile again, and that alone surprised him even more.  His dark brows knit together at the thought, for Sarah’s memory was on its heels and he still loved her as much today as he had then.  And he knew he had no right to be thinking about the young girl, and especially not one who was still mourning her own husband—
and
who was carrying his child within her...!  He cursed himself for the direction of his thoughts and promised himself that it would not happen again.  She was his cousin’s widow, a relative and he would befriend her as such!

Lydan caught him in the hall, his smiling face held a sarcastic humor that drew his anger even more.
“I see she was quick to take her leave of ye also.  Did ye try to kiss her then?”

Without warning Garrick grabbed the man’s thin neck with one strong
tanned hand and pressed him against the hard stone wall as he glared into his shaken eyes angrily. 
“Ye would do well, m’lord Hastings, not to speak to of the lady as though she be a common serving wench!”

Lydan swallowed uncomfortably as he stared back unblinking; his face turning purple under the pressure exerted to this throat though he refused to struggle or show fear to the older man.  He drew an audible breath, somehow managing a
hoarse tense whisper. 
“I—meant—no—disrespect...”

Garrick’s dark eyes only narrowed even more. 
“Then ye should take care what words slip from thy lips!  And ye would do well to remember that she is as titled as ye and I!  That, my friend, changes the rules a bit, does it not?”

Lydan’s eyes narrowed as he considered the other man’s words though he did not answer, his dark distain for it all
was written all over his face.

Garrick just shook his head and released him, then brushed past him knocking the man askew though he quickly recovered.

Lydan stared at the older man darkly.  The girl, no matter her borrowed title would always be no more than a peasant in royal garment to him,
nay… a most beautiful desirable peasant.

His uncle’s Steward stood waiting outside the solar as he entered the great hall; he sighed and walked towards him without a word as the older man opened the door for him not needing to explain his actions.  He went in and sat down without a word to find his uncle looking at him curiously.  “…
And
…?”

Garrick took a deep breath, before letting his eyes meet his
uncle’s.  “It was only a walk, uncle; ye may inquire of thy Steward.”

“I have, the girl means much to me; too much not to worry after her.”

“I only meant to offer her my friendship…  We talked about Lydan, he makes her uncomfortable, ye know that?”

“Aye, I know.”

He scowled even harder.  “And yet, ye do nothing?”

Her uncle turned his goblet on the polished wooden table thoughtfully.  “He is my nephew, and a man like any other, despite it all he w
ould make her a good husband, if she chose it to be so.”

Garrick could hardly answer for the anger that swelled up within him. 
“I see…”

“But ye have not yet told me why the girl came back without thee?”

Garrick looked at his uncle with dark brooding eyes.  “I fear I angered her.  We discussed William and her child… and she began to cry… I merely lifted my hand to wipe her tears away, but I fear she took my actions and my words as something else.”

“Ah, an
d ye meant it not to be more?”

Garrick swore under his breath and clenched down on the anger that was rising within him. 
“Nay, Uncle.  I give thee my word that I did not intend more.”

“So Nigel said.”

Garrick leaned back in his chair and studied the man in front of him before he spoke again. 
“Ye are trying to make me fall in love with the girl, are ye not?”

Edmund took a sip of his cup calmly not bothering to look at his nephew.  “I would like nothing better than for thee to bid for her hand, but—I have no control over what a man feels and does not feel.”

Garrick’s eyes narrowed at his words. 
“No matter what I may feel—”
He paused and scowled angrily at the words he had just spoken, before he continued again.
“…I shall offer her my friendship if she desires it.  But, I do not want a wife and to take a mere girl to the altar—and her with child from another!  Nay, I shall not!” 

Edmund lifted a hand to silence the younger angry man.  “Best ye stop, nephew, before ye regret the words ye speak to me.”

Garrick leaned forward, his arms crossed on the table in front of him, his head bowed slightly as he took a moment to regain control of himself and his swirling thoughts.

His uncle sat reclined watching the younger man with knowing eyes as he lifted his cup to his lips yet again.

Garrick sighed and looked up.   “I apologize, uncle.  I have nothing else to say, but to warn thee to watch Lydan where the lady is concerned.”

Edmund finished his cup quietly.  “I intend to, but if the man bids for the girl’s hand I shall not refuse him.”

“No matter how she feels about him?!”

“Aye, regardless of how she feels.  There is more at stake here than a girl’s feelings, Garrick.  She is the key to all that I have, and one which my enemies would not hesitate to use against me.”

Garrick considered his uncle’s words well and knew that he was right; Miranda not only carried the only heir to Whittington within her thin frame, but her position alone would allow someone to take control of the castle if something happened to Edmund or the child. 
“I understand.  Have ye told her that ye plan to marry her off as such?”

“Nay… and I hold thee to thy silence also, nephew.  Be assured that I shall do what is best for her and for the child she carries.  An acceptable suitor will be found, one who shall accept her and my grandchild and treat them well.  And one who shall not threaten my title nor holdings should something happen to me, but allow it to pass on to her child as I intended.  Truly, it would benefit the man greatly to be so joined to Whittington and to have her as an ally to guard his
back.”

“So then ye intend to sell her to guard thy lands.”

Edmund reached forward and poured himself another cup; not bothering to look at his nephew for the hard words he’d just spoken, for in truth he was intrigued by the man’s aggravation on the topic of his daughter-in-law.  “I had hoped for her sake to find a man whom she could love—but yes, if she does not find such in the men I bring, in the end she shall have little choice in who she shall wed.  But truly, all this it is for her sake and the sake of the child.”

Garrick frowned even harder at the thought of the young girl being forced to marry a man she didn’t love after all she’d been through.  Surely, she didn’t deserve such unhappiness as to live in a loveless marriage to a man she hardly knew, but it was none
of his affair and he knew it…

“I shall ask
for thy silence, Garrick…”

His eyes met his uncle’s and clashed slightly, before he hid the angry look the other man had already seen there. 
“Aye, ye have my word.”

“Good.  The girl need not be burdened with such things until it is absolutely necessary for her to know.”  He stood then setting down his cup.  “’Tis late, Ga
rrick, so I bid ye goodnight.”

Garrick nodded and watched his uncle walk out of the dimly lit room as he sat finishing his own cup.  If the girl only knew what hardship awaited her, surely she would not have come to this place…  He closed his eyes and drew a long breath as he reminded himself that in the end it was none of his business
, and that it was just his nature to wish justice done—and nothing more...

In her husband’s room Miranda got on her knees; wondering how many times William had done the same in this very place.  She prayed for favor and that her child would live to finish the good work his father had started.  And she prayed for help no matter what the future held for them both.  Truly, she had been happy here and had begun to adjust to life at Whittington until Edmund’s nephews had arrived, and she knew that once they left things would soon return to normal again.

In a dark chamber on the opposite end of the castle a low murmur threaded through the dark night air like a whisper.
  “…and help the girl and her child in whatever the future holds for them, for surely they do not deserve such sorrow…”  He ran a hand through his dark hair and stood pressing his lingering thoughts from his mind.  The girl was none of his concern, not now, not ever…

The morning brought no relief to his feelings as Miranda was seated beside Lydan again; she was quiet and pensive, not lifting her eyes to look at any of them and it bothered him.  Garrick met Lydan’s smug smile and turned away, wanting nothing more than to pin the man to the wall one more time.  Feeling grudging to his uncle for allowing such and even angrier for trying to make him care!  His uncle glanced at the three, and then let his eyes fall on her alone as he tried to draw her into conversation, but with a quiet answer she would only turn away again.  Lydan brushed her hand once more and she stilled, then without thought she purposefully reached up and pulled the trencher of food onto his lap.  She stood and apologized in a soft controlled voice, not bothering to meet any of their eyes as she frowned. 
“M’lord, I apologize…  Nigel, would ye please help Lord Hastings clean this up?”

Lydan looked up at her with narrowed eyes knowing how very lucky she was, for indeed if she had been at his castle
, and at his table, she would have found herself knocked to the floor regardless of the child within her. 
“Ye little—”

Garrick turned towards his uncle and noticed an amused smile that matched his own as he held up a calming hand seeing the anger in his nephew’s cold eyes.  “Lydan, please.”  He turned his gaze to Miranda who stood quietly with her hands clasped in front of her as she waited.  “If ye are
finished, Miranda, ye may go.”

She glanced at him and managed to curtsy before she turned, doing her best not to smile as wal
ked away without another word.

Garrick couldn’t hide his own smile that bubble from deep within him.

“I think she did that on purpose!”
  Lydan said angrily, glancing towards the now empty stairs as he brushed food from his tunic angrily.

Edmund laughed softly. 
“I know she did.  I was wondering just how much more she was going to allow thee, Lydan.”

“What?
!  Allow me?”

Garrick leaned back smiling at his uncle
’s words, enjoying the scene before him immensely.

“Oh, aye, allow ye!  If ye wish to bid for the girl’s hand, I shall gladly accept it, but ye have said naught to me about marriage and yet ye brush her hand most tenderly
.”

Lydan flushed at his uncle’s words, then looked down and cleared his throat grudgingly before he continued,
“I—I suppose there is no sense in denying it, is there?  Albeit, I find the girl as attractive as any man at thy table, uncle, I cannot bid for her hand, titled or not.”