Her head was in turmoil at the moment. The boys had their toy swords and shields, but Gart had returned to the perfume and soap merchant and had purchased several different sets of soaps and oils for Emberley. There were several lovely painted boxes in the cab and she collected them, handing them over to Gart.
Gart took the six boxes in one hand and helped Emberley out with the other. In the sunshine of the lazy afternoon, he took her politely by the elbow and escorted her up the stairs into the dark, cool keep. It was quiet and still inside. Taking the stone spiral stairs to the third floor, they could hear the baby whining and the boys arguing as Gerta tried to settle them in for an afternoon nap. Emberley continued to the fourth floor and her big, sprawling chamber, and Gart followed silently with the boxes.
The master’s chamber took up most of the fourth floor. There was an enormous bed in the center, lavished with expensive furs and coverlets, and two oak chairs with feather-stuffed cushions. Someone had banked the fire in the hearth and the coals glowed, providing a bit of warmth to stave off the cold in the room that the stone walls generated.
As soon as they entered the bower, Emberley turned to him and began taking the boxes. She took three and went over to her dressing table, a piece of furniture made from oak, polished, and painted with flowers on one side. There was a large mirror made from polished bronze but set in the middle of it was a much smaller mirror made from very precious polished glass. It gave a true reflection and Emberley set the boxes of oils and soaps down on the table, returning to Gart to take the rest from him.
“Thank you very much for these wonderful gifts,” she said softly. “I am very grateful.”
Gart stood in the doorway, watching her carefully organize the boxes. He didn’t say a word but he shifted on his big legs, watching her. She pretended to be busy with her new items but he knew that her mind was on their situation just as his was. He couldn’t think of anything else. It was like a fog that surrounded them in a confusing embrace. Very quietly, he closed the door.
Emberley heard the door close and thought he had left. She paused in her organization of the boxes, closing her eyes against the turmoil in her chest. Now that Gart’s presence was no longer around to bewilder her, she could respond to the emotion she was feeling. Everything came out in a heavy sigh. She dropped her hands from the boxes and sat heavily on the stool next to the dressing table, dragging a weary hand over her face.
“What are you thinking, kitten?” Gart asked softly.
Emberley gasped with surprise, turning to see that he was standing just inside the door. She took a deep breath to steady herself.
“I… I do not know,” she said honestly. “All I can feel is fear and joy. Thoughts of you make my heart sing and then just as quickly, I remember Julian and what he will do to me if he discovers us. He would kill me, Gart.”
“We have not done anything wrong. Yet.”
She heard the tone in his voice, feeling a bolt of excitement shoot through her body that just as quickly vanished. It was wrong of her to even entertain such thoughts and she angrily, sadly, pushed such ideas aside. She just couldn’t….
“We cannot,” she whispered. “Gart, please do not tempt me more than you already have. My life hangs in the balance– not yours.”
He moved away from the door, heading towards her with slow, thoughtful steps. He sighed heavily.
“I know,” he said in his soft, deep voice, sitting pensively at the foot of the bed. “I have thought of nothing else for quite some time. The only answer is to remove you and the children from Dunster.”
She looked at him, surprised. “You would take us away?”
He nodded, still very much deep in thought. “I cannot involve Lord David in this situation, so it would have to be somewhere far away and….”
“But you cannot,” she cut him off imploringly. “Think about what you are saying– you would take all of us from Dunster?”
“Aye.”
She shook her head strongly. “You cannot steal another man’s family, Gart. Julian would have you drawn and quartered.”
He countered. “He would never find us. We would leave England and go far away.”
He was deadly serious. She could read it in his face. “Then there is something else,” she pointed out. “Romney is the heir to the Buckland barony. What of his inheritance? It is his right and you, as someone who was denied his strong family ties, should understand that. Is it fair to Romney to take all of that away from him?”
Gart gazed steadily at her. “Would you rather have a son who is unhappy yet will inherit a wealthy barony or a son who is extremely happy but will not inherit a fraction of his due?”
She returned his gaze, seriously, so many thoughts and feelings rolling through her mind. “What are you saying?”
He lifted his eyebrows. “I am saying that I am offering to provide you and your children with a happy home. I would live like a pauper so long as you are with me, kitten. Money does not buy happiness, as you are well aware. But I swear to you that you would be rich in love, and I would love you and only you until the day I died.”
He had a valid point but she was still overwhelmed, confused. Wearily, she rose from the stool and went to the bed, plopping down beside him. She was despondent and depressed.
“It is a dream,” she murmured.
He stood up from the mattress, increasingly agitated as he paced away from her, hand to his head as if it would help him think more clearly.
“It is not a dream,” he told her firmly. “It is as real as flesh and blood and bone. We will leave tonight and never look back.”
He was speaking passionately and she exhaled lightly, rising from the bed and putting a hand on his arm to quiet him.
