CHAPTER SIX
The day wasremarkably sunny and clear as the party from Dunster Castle traveled to the rather large village of Minehead, a little less than a mile to the northwest of the castle. The sounds of the ocean filled the air as Gart rode at the head of the party astride his vicious black and white charger, followed by a carriage that contained Emberley and the children. The carriage was surrounded by twenty men-at-arms personally sworn to Gart.
He had sixty retainers that traveled with him everywhere, men that were highly trained and carried the same sense of battle aggression that Gart did. They were a hard bunch, loyal to the core, intermingled with de Lohr ranks since David was Gart’s liege. But on this trip, Gart’s men alone had the escort duty.
Emberley sat in the carriage with Orin next to her and Lacy on her lap, smelling deeply the scent of the sea as they passed through the softly rolling hills that led to Minehead. She felt better than she had in days, her spirit renewed with the departure of Julian and the company of Gart, and her body healing quickly from the beating. She was actually happy, something she didn’t normally feel, as she gazed off across the ocean and watched the seagulls ride the salty drafts.
Emberley could see Gart at the head of the column, riding strong and proud astride his black and white steed, and she realized that she had been watching him a good deal of thetime. When she wasn’t gazing at the sea, or the birds, she was watching his broad back. As Lacy fell asleep against her, sucking her thumb, Emberley settled back against the seat with her gaze still riveted to Gart.
Her mind began to wander to the days of her youth when she remembered her brother and Gart as young men of fifteen or sixteen years of age. It was right before she had gone to foster and she remembered that Gart was extremely tall for his age, a good-looking young man returned for the winter season from fostering at Kenilworth Castle. Erik, too, was fostering at Kenilworth and had come home to see his ailing mother. Gart had come with him simply because he had nowhere else to go. Emberley remembered the young man, so handsome and poised, until Erik, the ringleader, would whip them both into a frenzy and they would wreak good-natured havoc. She missed those days.
Although Gart had always been kind to her, she had never received the impression that it was anything more than polite concern. As she watched him ride ahead of the column, she could only surmise that in this situation, too, it was polite concern, but Gart’s entire manner had changed over the past twelve years. He had grown up, acquired depth of character, and she would swear until the day he died that some of the exchanges between them had gone beyond polite concern. There was warmth to the man, a spark in his eye, and she had to admit she found it wildly attractive. She was sure that Julian had killed any ability she had to feel something for the opposite sex, but with the reintroduction of Gart Forbes, she was coming to think that she was not dead inside, after all.
In her arms, Lacy cuddled close in her sleep and Orin, sitting next to her, was leaning against his mother, dozing. Emberley’s dark blue eyes drifted over her beautiful children. If only they were Gart’s children. She realized, at that moment, that shewould have sold her soul for that opportunity. Perhaps, for a time, she could just pretend they were. It would be a bright spot in an otherwise colorless life, her little secret to carry with her to her grave.
Lost to her thoughts as she watched Gart’s proud posture, Minehead came into view and she was distracted from Gart by the sight of the sprawling village. It spread out over the softly rolling hills in little, brown bumps with dozens of tendrils of gray smoke trailing into the sky from cooking fires. Just as they crested the hill of the road that led down into the berg, Gart reined his charger about and made his way back to the carriage. Mud sprayed from his horse’s hooves as he barked orders to his men. He flipped his visor up as he reached the carriage, a faint smile on his lips. Emberley smiled in return.
“We have arrived,” he said, looking at Romney and Brendt as they hung over the side of the carriage to catch a glimpse. “Where shall we go first?”
Emberley stretched her neck, trying to get a look at the town without waking the children sleeping on her.
“There is a neighborhood with merchants over to the west,” she told him. “There is the Street of the Farmers and next to that is the Street of the Merchants. This road will fork at the base of the hill and you will go left.”
He nodded shortly, snapping more orders to the men around him, and the party took off again. They began the slow trek down the hill with Gart riding alongside the carriage astride his excitable charger. The animal danced about, switching his bound tail angrily, as Romney and Brendt tried to reach out and catch it. It made for quite a game until Gart moved the animal away to a safe distance.
“Since we have come to town to buy you something nice, where would you like to go?” he asked Emberley. “Surely there is something lovely or expensive that you would like.”
She looked at him, shaking her head reprovingly, but there was a smile on her lips. “I told you that you do not have to buy me anything,” she reiterated. “But I would like to purchase some durable fabric for the boys. There are merchants in town that carry such goods. The children seem to go through clothing so quickly.”
He looked down his nose at her. “If you refuse me again, I shall become quite angry.”
She lifted a defiant eyebrow in response. “Is that so?”
“It is.”
She lifted her shoulders lazily. “There is nothing you can do about it so I suggest you focus your energies elsewhere.”
He sighed heavily, with exaggeration. “You ungrateful woman. I will focus my energies on my palm to your backside if you do not show more cooperation.”
She fought off a grin. “You would spank me if I do not let you buy me something?”
“That is the general idea.”
By this time, Romney and Brendt were listening. Romney’s young face was taut with rage and fear.
“You will not spank my mother,” he put a hand out as if to shove Gart away. “I will not let you do it. I will kill you if you try.”
Gart and Emberley lost all of their humor. “I was only jesting, Romney,” Gart said evenly and sincerely. “I would never lay a hand on your mother. I would rather die than hurt her in any way. Surely you know that.”
“Rom,” Emberley reached out to her eldest child, gently, and pulled him against her. “You are such a brave young lad. But surely you know that Sir Gart would never, ever harm any of us. He is our friend.”
Romney was angry but he eased up when his mother kissed his forehead. He eyed Gart, still suspicious.
“Well,” he said reluctantly. “I guess he is.”
Emberley hugged her boy. “Of course he is, sweetheart. He has been my friend for a very long time.”
Next to the cab, Gart leaned down, bracing a massive arm against his thigh. He found that he wanted to soothe the confused, angry boy. “I will protect your mother, and you, always.”
