The Silent Love (40 page)

Athol, turning the boy to the door, then walked out into the misting rain with them and grinned knowingly as the coachman hunched beneath the cover of the blanket. Astonishment showed in Gates face as the rain slid off the seemingly ordinary cloth and soaked not through one thread.

The coachman glanced sideways at the old wise man and nodded briefly his thanks and climbed to his open perch, pulling the blanket up over his head.

Waving a hand in farewell, he called after them, "Come again and bring your mother David, and you as well, young master. Bring
your
mother as well."

Clay stuck his head out the window and called back. "Shall we bring Grandfather Strongbow, to see you, too?" But he did not hear the answer as the coach bounced upon a rut at that moment and he was tossed back upon the cushions.

When next he looked, the ancient magician had disappeared and the cottage as well, swallowed by a bank of fog that seemed only to be in that one place.

Chapter Twenty-Four

~~

Hannah, looking from the high window of the nursery, saw the coach coming along the lane. Even when it was so far away as to be only a speck on the horizon, she knew it was her man coming home to her, bringing her son.

She heart thudded and a tingling went along her spine, as anticipation mixed with dread. Anticipation at seeing David and dread of what he might do. He might not be speaking to her still.

She looked around the nursery with appreciation, for it was in the process of refurbishing. The curtains had been pulled down and replaced with fresh ones, the rugs had been beaten of all their dust and the walls had been freshly painted, as well.

The small child's table had returned to replace the student's desk, which had been moved to a new suite of rooms down the hall, as had the bed and dresser, toys and other items that belonged to Clay. In the center of the room, the cradle that had once held the boy as an infant, rocked gently under Hannah's hand as she passed it, hurrying her step as she went along to meet the loves of her life as they approached the door.

David stepped first out of the coach, not waiting for the stair to be placed, as his long legs could easily manage the distance. He turned and lifted his son, who was eagerly craning his neck for a sight of his mother. When he spied her, he squirmed out of his father's grasp and nearly fell before David could ease his feet to the cobbles, and he ran to Hannah, arms outstretched, his small face bright with joy.

She clasped the boy to her as he reached small arms about her and buried his face in her stomach, and she smoothed his unruly black curls, her eyes downcast on the child, for she was suddenly shy of looking at the man who approached.

He came to stand beside them and took the boy gently by an arm, disengaging him from his mother, and the three of them walked into the manor—the adults silent, the boy chattering excitedly.

David, though he looked sideways at his wife, did not speak, for he was taken with a bout of shyness as well. Their last meeting had not been a pleasant one, and the angry words between them still echoed across the distance of the few feet that separated them.

They were as two strangers meeting for the first time, circling one another warily.

Once in the foyer, Clay went immediately forward to Darwin, who stood awaiting his master. Darwin, accustomed to the child's haughtiness and naughtiness, as well, braced himself for some prank or sneering comment. It did not come, however, and when he looked down, the boy was standing very correctly before him, hands clasped behind his back, rocking on his heels.

"I think, Darwin, we shall have tea in the study, for I have much to tell my mother about our adventure." He grinned at the butler with such engaging sprightliness the retainer wanted to laugh, and smiled a little, waiting for the child's next directive. When it came, it startled him no end.

"I think as well, that you and I should have a talk. I owe you many apologies and the rest of the staff as well. Please have them attend me in the large drawing room after tea so that I may make my amends."

Darwin, though astonished, managed to bow respectfully and looked up at the boy's parents, his eyebrows raised to his hairline, "As you wish, young master. Would you like biscuits with your tea?"

The small family dined
al fresco
, seated upon cushions before the roaring fire, for the day had turned cold and there was winter in the air. Clay had spoken much and his parents little—and seldom to each other. The boy did not seem to notice their restraint, and continued to regale his mother with tales of magic stones and angels in his dreams.

She listened with only half an ear, as her awareness of the boy's father consumed her, a distraction of her entire being that clouded her senses.

"Clay, if you have finished your biscuits, you should go along and find Darwin... and do your duty." David, reminding the boy in a gentle way that he had an appointment with the servants, was proud of the child and the way he obediently hurried to do that which he needed to do, without a hint of reluctance.

After Clay quit the room, it grew very silent and the pair removed to the chairs before the fire, having had their fill of cushions on the floor. Facing each other, their eyes were compelled to meet at last. David looked long upon Hannah, noting the changes the last week had wrought in her.

Her face was luminescent and her amber eyes glowed, her soft wispy hair seemed lustrous, picking up the flames of the fire and turning them into sparks of gold. But it was not just her outward appearance that was changed, for David sensed a serenity and calm about her he had not experienced since the beginning of their living together as man and wife.

He shifted in his chair, and pulled his eyes away first. David was at a loss for speech, for all he really wanted to do was hold her close and feel her love for him, something that had been a long time withheld. He was so aware of her that it was as though she touched him with her amber gaze.

Hannah saw changes in David as well. He seemed more regal, and at the same time, more self-effacing, and yet over all, he was the same man. His eyes were deeper with secrets and mysteries, his lips were more relaxed, and the lines that had begun in his face a few months before, seemed nearly to have disappeared.

She studied his rugged profile as he turned his eyes back to the fire and wanted desperately to climb into his lap and whisper her secret news to him, but she could not make the first move.

"You seem well content. Did you not miss us, Hannah?" David finally opened his mouth, and the words that came out were not what he had wanted to say at all.

To his own ears he sounded stiff and formal, even a bit aggravated. He cleared his throat and tried again, "What I mean to say, of course, is that you are looking particularly well... and," he turned, his gaze suddenly burning into her, "quite beautiful. More so than ever before."

A hot blush rose from her throat to her brow at his look and his words. She lifted a hand to the pulse that fluttered in her throat, as she was wont to do when confused. "I... missed you, of course, David."

She swallowed and went on, her voice a low whisper as she cast her eyes down to her clasped hands. "It has been very lonely without you and Clay here. I have been much with your mother, and she has eased my days, and taught me to sew as well."

On a sudden inspiration, Hannah knew just how to tell him, and she bid him wait a moment, then hurried to the nursery, where she pulled a small blanket and some swaddling clothes from the dresser, and prepared to go back.

When she turned to the door, she stopped, for David stood there, watching her, quiet and tense, his eyes going from her to the cradle and back again. She approached him and held out the items, her hands trembling just a little.

"See what your mother has taught me?" Her voice was timid, her eyes hidden in the dusk of the room.

"I see well what you have learned." Voice wooden, he was at a loss for words. He fingered the soft cloth she held out to him, but his eyes were on her.

"I think you should know... " She stopped of a sudden, her throat closing in her anxiety, for David did not look pleased and she feared he would not want the babe she carried in her womb.

"What is amiss?" Hannah's voice trembled, much to her regret. She did not want to show weakness.

"I have eyes, and I see what you would have me know." David, stunned by the news of another babe, tried to sort out his feelings. They had barely had time together after all the years of separation, and there was much work yet to do with young Clay.

Though the child showed promise of coming around, David was not so sure that he would not revert to his old ways now that he was back in his own territory.

Looking at Hannah, though, he realized that she needed him to be pleased, and so he made an effort. His voice was gentle, his manner tender and he reached a huge hand across the distance, stroking her cheek.

"Are you... pleased?"

"Aye, madam. Well pleased." And saying the words, he was.

"Then you are coming home to stay?"

"And just where else would a man go when he has all this to bind him?"

"Bind you, Milord? Is that how you see it?"

"Bind me. It is the only way to see it." He smiled as he closed the distance between them, tossing the baby garments away to land on the cradle, as his arms came round her. "Bind me with love, and passion, and truth, and all those things of which every man dreams."

He punctuated his list by placing tiny kisses on her eyelids, her jaw and along her brow.

The small distance remaining between them was gone in an instant as he suddenly pulled her fast against him, his mouth coming down, his arms lifting her up. He moved his hips against her abdomen, whispering into her mouth, his breath tinged with mint and brandy. "And how comes this small stranger to be growing here?"

Teasing him with her lilting voice, she whispered back, "You do not know? Well, then, Milord, I shall have to show you."

Reaching up and pulling herself hard against him, her hands locking behind his neck, she brushed her mouth tentatively against his and nipped at his lower lip.

David brushed his own lips over hers, then trailed a hot breath down her neck, hands drawing her closer.

"I think, madam," he whispered, pulling back a bit, "we should find a more appropriate place to do this. For I fear that cradle will hold neither of us, much less both."

"Whatever you wish, Milord. Whatever you wish."

Hannah and David went hand and hand to her chamber and closed the door, the hasp of the lock clicking unevenly into its notch, just as it had always done. She drew the drapes closed against the night, while he damped the fire to low coals.

She twisted to face him, and when David turned his hungry eyes upon her, and began to pull his buttons loose to remove his shirt, she came and presented her back. He took his time, opening the small eyelets with ease and pulling the cloth away, exposing her creamy flesh inch by inch.

His mouth followed the progress of the garment as it fell away, and when she shrugged out of the arms, he turned her around and kissed her shoulders, moving his mouth downward to the tops of her breasts.

She stepped back and removed herself from his touch, but not with fear or distaste. She teased him with her amber eyes, the embers in the grate glowing there. She sighed and moved toward the bed, presenting her back to him.

The darkness settled in as he stood there, and soon there was nothing but shadows in the room. "Shall I light the lamp?"

David's voice was husky and deep with desire. He had not moved, but watched as she slid her chemise down and her pantalets as well. Her bare skin glowed pale in the darkened room, and she turned to pull back the covers, her slightly rounded abdomen giving him proof of her quickening.

"Hush you. I would have the silence of the night and your actions, my husband. No words or light are needed here."