“Gently, young men, gently,” Gart was pointing at them as he rode up on his dancing charger. In full armor, he looked terrifying and imposing. “If you squash the woman, you will have me to deal with.”
The boys grinned while the younger children began to squeal and jump with excitement. Gart flipped up the visor on his helm, a smile on his face as he viewed his entire family, together for the first time in months. With the older boys off to foster with the Earl of Hereford, times like this were few and far between. He relished the moment with great joy.
He dismounted his black and white destrier and handed him over to a groom. He hadn’t taken two steps when the little ones rushed at him, screaming his name. He grunted as they ran into him, pretending to teeter off balance.
“Good Christ,” he grunted again as Brydon jumped up and latched on to him. He picked the boy up, his first born son, and hugged the lad tightly. “Brydon, you have grown by a head since last I saw you. Are you ready to go and foster with your brothers?”
Brydon had his little arms wrapped around his father’s neck, grinning.
“I am ready, Dada,” he said confidently.
As Gart kissed the boy’s cheek again and set him to the ground, the twins were howling at his feet and he scooped them up, one little girl in each arm. Kissing rosy cheeks, he approached his wife and bent down, kissing her sweetly on the lips.
“Greetings, kitten,” he murmured, kissing her again. “How are you feeling?”
Emberley smiled at him, cupping his face between her two hands. “Very well,” she said, kissing him yet again because she was so glad to see him. “But I will admit that I am ready for this child to be born.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine. I am simply ready to be done with it.”
He nodded in sympathy, watching as Romney approached his mother. Emberley embraced young Baron Buckland, having inherited his title from his father and Dunster Castle along with it. Romney had grown up tall and handsome, favoring his mother’s blond attractiveness tremendously.
At thirteen years of age, he was wise beyond his years and although he remembered his real father, he considered Gart the only father he had ever had. He and Gart were inordinately close and Gart could not have been prouder of the boy. With Gart’s guidance and calm, fair manner, all three of Julian’s boys were growing into fine, strong, young men. To them, Julian was just a bad memory.
“Greetings, Mother,” Romney kissed his mother on the cheek. “It is good to be home.”
Emberley smiled. He was growing up, sounding so formal in greeting. “It is good to have you home again,” she said. “Lacy and the children have missed you.”
As if on cue, Brydon jumped on his older brother and Romney grunted as the child hit him in the gut. He picked thelittle boy up and swung him around in circles, listening to him giggle. Then Brendt and Orin jumped in, tickling the little boy, and Brydon squealed with delight as his three older brothers gently teased him.
Gart and Emberley watched as the four boys dashed for the keep, setting Brydon to his feet and encouraging the boy to chase them. Brydon did so happily, following them up the stone steps into the enormous keep of Dunster.
Emberley shook her head at the humor of the scene, turning to look at Gart just as the boys disappeared into the keep.
“Poor Brydon has been so lonely without them,” she said, wrapping her hands around her husband’s elbow. “He has only had girls to play with.”
Gart had his daughters in his arms, sweet, little faces that reminded him so much of his wife, and he kissed them again as they hugged their father in tandem. He then noticed Lacy standing beside him and he set Emmaline to her feet so he could hug his oldest daughter.
“I rather like girls,” Gart said as he kissed Lacy on the top of the head. “I have missed mine.”
Emberley smiled up at him. “We have missed you as well,” she said, taking Emmaline by the hand and moving towards the keep in the wake of the loud boys. “Now, tell me all of the news from Lioncross and mind you, do not leave anything out.”
Gart took her command seriously. “The earl’s wife just had another baby, a boy,” he dutifully told her. “His name is Henry and he has blond hair and big blue eyes just like the rest of the earl’s brood.”
Emberley lifted her eyebrows. “That makes four boys now, does it not?”
Gart nodded. “Emilie is also due to give birth very soon, just as you are,” he told her. “David is convinced it is a son.”
Emberley giggled softly. “After three girls, the man is desperate for a son. He told me that if Emilie has another girl, he may try to trade the baby for one of our boys.”
Gart grinned as they reached the stone steps leading up to the keep. “He cannot have any of them,” he said flatly, setting Elizabeth to her feet so she could take the stairs by herself. “I will keep my sons. He will have to produce his own.”
Emberley chuckled softly, falling in to the rear as the three girls mounted the steps. Gart had Emberley by the arm to make sure she was steady while simultaneously shepherding the toddlers up the stone. He didn’t want anyone slipping and falling.
By the time they reached the entry with the squirrely little girls, he puffed out his cheeks wearily and came to a halt. Lacy took the twins inside as Emberley paused beside her husband.
“Exhausted?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye.
