“We will speak more of this tomorrow,” she said softly, firmly. “It is time for bed now.”
Romney let his mother take him to bed and tuck him in. She kissed him and smiled at him, making sure to leave a smalltaper lit as she closed the door softly so he wouldn’t be in total darkness. He lay still and obedient until she shut the door.
Then, he climbed out of bed. He was a man on a mission.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
With Romney inbed, Emberley moved back into her chamber and made sure to bolt the door that led out to the corridor. The room was lit only by a glowing fire in the hearth, casting dancing shadows on the walls, as she made her way back over to the bed where Gart was stripping off his sweaty, dirty tunic. Lady Emilie had lain out the lamb’s wool shift and delicate yellow robe and she fingered them distractedly, thinking on her son.
“He has so many questions,” she said quietly. “When I hear him speak to you, I am reminded of the time you told me that he wants very much to become a man. He is trying so hard to grow up.”
Gart nodded as he unlaced his breeches and slid them off his big frame. “Indeed he is,” he replied. “I told you that you must let the child become a man.”
“I am trying.”
“I know you are.”
As Emberley pushed aside thoughts of her son and began to inspect the quality of the shift, Gart made his way over to the tub. He climbed into the big copper pot and sloshed water over the sides. Emberley gasped when she saw what he was doing.
“The water is cold,” she pointed out the obvious. “Do you not want hot water?”
He began splashing water over his head and neck, sputtering when it ran over his mouth. “This will do,” he held out a hand. “Will you please give me the soap bar?”
She went over to the table and picked up the lumpy bar that smelled of flowers. “You are going to smell like a woman.”
“It is better than smelling like a rotted corpse.”
She giggled as she put the soap in his hand. “Very well,” she said. “But if men start flirting with you, I will only laugh at your misfortune.”
Eyes still closed, he grinned as he lathered up his scalp and neck. “You are a cruel woman.”
She giggled as she made her way back to the bed, dropping the big linen towel in favor of the lamb’s wool. It fit her snugly but comfortably, and she donned the yellow robe over that. Lady Emilie had left a large bone comb as well as a few other toiletries, and she ran the comb through her hair repeatedly as she watched Gart bathe. Now that he was here, she was fully calm and settled. The situation was feeling normal again, alone in a world with no Julian, only Gart. He was the center of everything.
She took a stool by the hearth and combed her hair to dry it against the heat from the fire. When Gart finished soaping and rinsing, he opened his eyes to find her sitting there, looking like an angel in her yellow dressing gown and silky, blond hair. The glow of the fire behind her gave her a halo appearance, glowing all around her body. Rinsing off the last of the soap, he smiled at her, feeling so incredibly fortunate to have her with him again.
“I have missed you, kitten,” he said softly. “Every minute of the days and nights that we were separated were filled with thoughts of you. Have you been well?”
She returned his smile as she combed through her hair, the color returning to her cheeks in the warmth of the blaze. “I have been very well but I have missed you terribly,” she replied. “The boys were lonely for you also. They had no one to play with.”
He chuckled softly, looking around for the big, linen towel and seeing that it was draped neatly on a chair near the bed. He stood up, water sloshing off his big body and onto the floor as he climbed out of the tub in his quest for the damp towel that Emberley had used.
“You would not tell me what they did to Lord de Lara,” he grabbed the towel and began rubbing it across his legs. “I would suspect he served well in my place as an object of their aggression.”
She smiled in agreement but that smile soon faded. “I miss my babies,” she responded. “They were terribly frightened when Julian’s escort came for us.”
Gart wasn’t going to bring up the subject of the escort just yet, but since she did, he took her lead.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asked gently.
Her smile faded completely. “I am not entirely sure,” she said honestly. “I know that Lord de Lara keeps the gates open and people come in and out of Trelystan all of the time. I suppose the escort entered just like any other party. I truly do not know. All I know is that they were suddenly standing there as I crossed through the bailey.”
He pondered that explanation a moment. “How is it that only you and Romney managed to go with them?”
She shrugged. “As we ran for the keep, I was captured. Orin and Brendt took Lacy up to our chamber and bolted the door, but Romney stayed behind to protect me. They captured him, too. The only reason they were able to take us from Trelystan was because they held a knife to my throat and threatened to kill me if Lord de Lara showed any resistance.”
It all made a great deal of sense to him now. He thought of Romney standing against armed knights, attempting to protect his mother, and it made him proud and sick at the same time.His jaw ticked as he dried off his chest and arms, looking between his task and Emberley’s rosy face.
“That is how you got that gash on your neck,” he rumbled.
