The Silent Love (16 page)

"Have your say, then," she said, leery of her son's tone.

Instead of answering right away, David wandered to the bed and looked down upon the sleeping mother and child, a smile of tender love transforming the hardness of his features. He reached out to touch her, as he was wont to do on any pretext. His mother stayed his hand with a touch.

He then moved his fingertips to the child, instead, and brushed the downy soft fuzz atop the babe's pate, the rich black color so like his own. "Did you know that father regrets his treatment of you?"

"Enough!" Mary Strongbow wanted naught to do with the Marquis, and she hissed at David in a most vehement manner. Her voice awoke the child and the tiny face scrunched into a grimace, his lips pursing, mouth open and seeking the tit.

David, unable to resist, gently pushed back the coverlet and lifted his son, cradling the fretting babe awkwardly as he looked at his mother in surprise while she continued to speak. "That vile master of intrigue and deceit will soon be carrion for the worms, and I await eagerly his passing from this earth."

"You cannot mean it. Surely you can find some forgiveness for him if as you say, you have done with blame upon yourself... " David allowed his voice to trail away as the babe began to squall in very loud manner. "I... I shall just take him along the hall to Mistress Gunner."

He quit the room, holding his squirming bundle gingerly, feeling the wet nappy sagging against his hand with much distaste, for the odor that emitted there from was more that piss and he, like most men, was not up to the challenge of such things.

Placing the child in his cradle, he left him in the charge of his wet nurse, returned to Hannah's room and went to wash his hands in the corner basin, grimacing. "Demned little termagant messed upon me."

"You speak so of my son?" The voice, though weak and whispery was a deal angry, and came from the bed where Hannah, eyes alight with a spark of indignation, glared at him. "Get out of my room... you, you... "

David turned in surprise, for he had been so intent upon washing his hands he had not noticed Hannah awake in her bed. "I... meant nothing by it. The child is dear to me, I assure you Milady."

"David, leave us now... go and fetch the doctor, and tell your father as well, that Hannah has awakened."

She gently pushed him from the room, but, as he moved to the door, he turned his head and gave Hannah a most pleading look, swallowing hard the lump of pain in his throat. Her eyes upon him were cold and distant, and her face, sallow and drawn from her illness, was set unremittingly against him.

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*  * * * *

.

Hannah rested against her pillows, watching the man plead with his eyes for her regard, just as he had pled with her in the darkened room with his movements and touches. She wavered for a moment, the old feeling of tenderness surfacing, but she pressed it back, for she knew that he had done a terrible thing and she had been drawn into the sin.

Adultery
, she reminded herself, and kept her eyes steady and cold upon him, refusing his silent request.
'Twas the worst kind of sin, no matter her motives
. That he had drawn her into such deceit, and further maligned her with his lies, and those of his father, she could not forgive. She was damned, her soul lost. How could she not hate this man?

She knew he had not maligned his child with his words; she had heard the gentle teasing of his voice. Yet she used that as an excuse to be rid of him, for she could not bear to be near him.

Though she could not bear to be apart from him as well, for she ached with longing to feel his hand upon her brow. Feel the touch of his fingers trailing along her throat, followed by his warm lips.

Mary Strongbow came back to the bed, and Hannah watched the woman busy herself once more with her sewing, eyes not meeting her own. Hannah took this for rejection.

"You are angry with me Mistress Strongbow?"

"Nay, child... only sad for... for you both."

"I cannot help this. I am wed to the Marquis... 'tis his grandchild I have borne. They lied to me most terribly... I have committed more than adultery. He is my stepson... "

"Rubbish!" Mary's voice was derisive and she decided in that instant that the girl must be lied to, if only a little bit, in order to bring her from her self abuse. "Grievous sin you said last night. How can you think so? David is no blood of yours... he is not even a cousin. He is technically not your stepson as well, for his father was not wed to his mother. Under the law—"

"The law? Whose law? That of man or that of God?" Hannah's voice grew weaker, for she was still not well and this conversation was taxing her small reserve of strength mightily.

"Man's law first, you foolish girl." Mary said. "Under man's law, you are not related to David in any way. Under God's law, in this case, there is no Grievous sin. If there were—
which there is
not
—you would be forgiven your involvement, being ignorant of the facts."

"And what of adultery?" The girl argued, her voice even fainter as dizziness assailed her while she struggled to sit up then fell back once more, weakened from her loss of blood. "What of that?"

"On that issue I have no answer, for 'tis true you have willingly committed this sin, but again, you were compelled by circumstances, and your motive was not lust. Am I correct?"

Blushing, the younger woman nodded, and her hands went to her now nearly flat stomach. Uncertain that her motive was so pure—for she thought she might have lusted for him, after all—her change of subject was abrupt and final. "Where then is my son? And when can I see him?"

"You will see him when he awakens. I have watched over you these three days since his birth, fearing you would not come back from that far place where you had gone. I am glad to see that you have enough spirit to argue with me and more glad that you want your babe."

"How has he been fed these days I have lain here senseless? Who has cared for him? Is he well? He was early, I know... will he survive?"

Her questions, one after another, assaulted Mary, and she put up a hand, laughing gently.

"Milady, one question at a time. He is fed and asleep in the next room. He is thriving and healthy, and quite large for a premature babe. Mistress Gunner, a cousin of mine who comes well recommended, is his wet nurse."

"I would have his cradle here. Keep him with me... " Hannah's voice drifted off as sleep overcame her.

Mary went to pull the coverlet over her, tucking it under her chin. "Poor urchin... she is nearly alone as I was, though 'tis true I bore no burden upon my conscience as she does."

Mary went back to her sewing, singing softly all the while, those old lullabies she had learned at her own mother's knee. The music appeared to soothe the sleeping girl, and, soothe the singer as well. Her hands smoothly plying the needle, the shapes began to take form round the edges of the fine woolen blanket.

Mary's spirit lifted as she thought of her small grandson, hoping she would have some contact with the child once she was done here. Perhaps Hannah would bring him to the village on occasion, that he might know his grandmother, and his great-grandfather, Gillian Strongbow, as well.

Turning her thoughts to David, she reflected that she must find time to speak with him alone... away from the sickroom, and she resolved to get Elspeth to sit with her mistress for a while so she might seek him out.

First though, she would stay awhile to be sure the girl rested well. Her nightmares had nearly ceased, and she seldom muttered in her sleep now; but it would be as well to be certain.

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*  * * * *

.

David paced his father's study, a glass of port half-drank and forgotten on the table nearby. He was a man at war with himself, for he was bound to leave this place, and yet he could not leave his ailing father. He had pledged his word, just this morning, to stay and fulfill his bargain. Running his hands through the thick mane of his hair, he worried the situation till his head fairly spun, for no solution that could satisfy both his needs—and those of his parent—was readily available.

Remembering how Hannah had looked at him, his spirit fell low, and his hand reached for the glass as he passed by, draining the ruby liquid in a few gulps. Thinking to get blotted and forget the whole thing he went to the drinks tray and lifted the bottle, measuring a brimming glass. A glass that he then set on the desk and promptly forgot about as footfalls sounded in the hall. Turning, David saw his mother enter the room and close the door softly behind her.

"I thought I might find you here. Pour me a glass as well, my son, for I am weary to death and like to fall upon my face soon." Mary's drawn features reflected her words well, and she sat behind the desk in the chair of the Marquis as though she belonged there. Folding her hands upon the blotter, she gazed at David as he came to her with the wine, accepting it with a shaky hand.

Noticing the tremor, David queried her, "When do you last sleep, mother?"

"I have rested here and there, for Elspeth has been very helpful, though the girl has a bad habit of gossip I am afraid. Quick, too, that one. She has put you and Milady in the same bed, in her mind only, of course... but the gossip has begun, well and truly."     

"What? I shall box her ears!" Though Elspeth was his second cousin, once removed, he never thought of the servant as 'family', for David was a Larkspur through and through, despite his strong resemblance to the Strongbow family. "Impertinent, scheming... " He waved a hand, seeking an expletive to match his ire, then let his hand drop and finished on a grim note, "I will have her fired. Indeed I will."

"Too late for that, and she is no better nor worse than any other. She has not named the babe as yours, and I believe that everyone truly believes he is the offspring of the Marquis."

"Well, then. What is to be done?"

"You should return to the cottage and not come here again... for awhile, at least."

"I am thinking of leaving this place altogether. She hates me."

"Yes, I think perhaps she does... at this moment, at least. Nevertheless, a part of her does not hate you at all, and that is one of her problems." Mary looked at her distraught son, standing before her so tall, handsome, strong—yet broken. "She loves you very much indeed."

"How can you say so? You heard her tell me to go. Did you not see the look she gave me?"

"Yes, and I have spoken with her since. I have... planted a seed that she will think upon and mayhap ease her conscience. There is little I can do, David, to change the situation, for she is wed to your father, but when she is widowed... "

His head jerked up at her words, and he frowned at her. "He is recovering mother. Much as you may wish for his death, I cannot. I have grown to admire him, in spite of your efforts. I will leave what is between you just there—between the two of you."

"That is wise thinking. Yet, I would that you could know my suffering when he took you from me. Do you remember that day?" Her eyes withdrew from the study, going back in time to witness in her mind's eye the scene of her terrible loss. "Perhaps you might understand better my feelings."

"Nay, I recall nothing. I only know that one day I was in my grandfather's house, and the next day I was in that school." Reaching out, he touched her hand. "Tell me."

"I tried to stop him... I fell into the mud and clawed my way up his back, pounding him with my fists. David, he did not even speak to me, other than to tell me he could do so much better for you than I. He looked through me as though I was nothing. And he left gold... a bag of gold. Had I not already hated him, I should have done so then."

"Surely you knew that he was doing his best for me? Did he not speak with grandfather?" David, whose tentative feelings of forgiveness for his father were being shattered once more, desperately sought to find something... anything that would let him keep his respect for the man.