Without a word, she slipped her hand into the crook of his right elbow. She could make the excuse that she was only touching her daughter, cradled in the man’s enormous right arm, but that wasn’t the truth. The truth was that she just wanted to touch Gart. Greedily, secretly, she stood there and held him.
“Mama!” Orin suddenly turned to her. “Where are thweets?”
She smiled at her lazy-tongued son. “I am not sure,” she said, looking around. “We will find some, not to worry. Are you finished watching the dogs?”
The boys all turned to her, nodding eagerly, and she finally dared to look up at Gart. His gaze was steady upon her, his smile faint but unmistakable. He turned to his men and ordered them to find someplace nearby to park the carriage. Ten men-at-arms broke off from the group and went in search of a rest area while Gart, Emberley, the children and another ten men-at-arms continued down the avenue.
The day was brilliant as they walked down the dirt street, avoiding piles of horse dung and pools of animal urine as they walked. Gart carried the baby, who had her arms wrapped tightly around his neck and her cheek hugged up against his. Emberley offered to take the little girl from him, twice, but he refused. He looked rather content so she didn’t press. When she dropped her hand from the crook of his elbow, he switched Lacy to the opposite arm and reached out to take Emberley’s hand with his free hand.
His enormous mitt closed in over her soft, warm fingers. Startled, feeling her chest swell with excitement at what could be considered an intimate action, she held his hand tightly. She was thrilled beyond measure, living greedily in her secret little world where Gart belonged to her and there was no Julian, no horrors of a brutal husband. But her secret dreams were shattered whenBrendt took off running. Gart quickly handed Lacy to her mother and took off after the little boy.
Romney and Orin stopped before a woodworker as Gart chased Brendt down. The two older boys were fascinated with the wooden toys the man had on display– little carts and wooden horses, wooden shields and wooden swords. They were particularly in love with the swords and Emberley had to repeatedly tell them not to touch them. Unhappy, they began to beg and whine and she turned away from them, unwilling to give in to their demands. Across the avenue, she spied Gart approaching with Brendt tucked under one arm.
Brendt was squealing because Gart was carrying him sideways, like a parcel. The child was delighted, giggling, and Gart turned him upside down and pretended to plant his head in the mud once they reached his mother. Brendt giggled uncontrollably until Gart turned him right-side up and put him on his feet.
“No more running away,” Gart wagged a stern finger in his face. “Do you hear me? If you run off again, I will not buy you any sweets.”
Brendt’s giggles were gone and he nodded seriously. Gart gave him a lingering look just for emphasis as he turned to Emberley.
She was smiling at him. “Where was he running to?” she asked.
He threw a thumb back over his shoulder. “There is a man over there with a goat that was dancing on its hind legs.”
Emberley’s features relaxed in understanding. “He loves goats,” she sighed, then pointed to the woodworker where her three boys were now gleefully inspecting the goods. “I have a bigger problem now. This man makes little wooden swords and shields and I fear I shall not get the boys away from this stall without great drama.”
Gart didn’t think it was a problem at all. He purchased three little wooden shields and three little wooden swords over Emberley’s protests. Thrilled to be well-armed knights, Romney, Orin and Brendt began attacking each other before Gart had fully paid for everything. Giving the woodworker a tidy sum for the little toys, Gart stilled the three combatants before the situation got out of hand. He could see that they were already far too enthusiastic about killing each other. When Brendt refused to stop, he pulled the toy sword away and held it out of his reach so he had the boy’s attention.
“Now,” he said firmly. “Along with these weapons comes responsibility. You must not hit each other in the head with them. You must not try to stab each other when them. Keep them away from your eyes. The first time someone gets hurt because of carelessness, I will take away everyone’s toys and hold them until such time as I feel you are ready to accept the responsibility again. Is that clear?”
“How long would you keep them?” Romney demanded.
“Years.”
Gart said it so seriously that Emberley bit off a smile, watching the distressed expressions on her sons’ faces. Romney and Orin looked at each other apprehensively before returning their attention to the enormous knight.
“We will be careful,” Romney said.
“Promith!” Orin piped up.
Gart cocked an eyebrow at them. “Very well,” he handed the sword back to Brendt. “Behave yourselves.”
Properly subdued, the boys took their toys and followed their mother and Gart down the avenue. Emberley let her grin burst forth when she knew the boys couldn’t see her.
“You are very good with children,” Emberley commented, eyeing her boys as they attempted not to hurt each otherwith their new toys. “You must have received experience somewhere.”
Gart shook his head. “No experience.”
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
She looked up at him, a smile on her lips. “Then you have a natural talent for it and will make an excellent father,” she said. “Your children will be very lucky.”
He looked at her, feeling strangely sad at that statement. He’d only spent four days with Emberley and her children but it felt as if he’d spent an eternity with them. He fought down the familiar feeling of wishing they belonged to him, struggling against the sadness it provoked.
“Perhaps someday,” he said quietly.
Emberley sensed his depressed mood but she wasn’t sure why. She shifted the baby from one arm to the other as they walked.
