“That is very brave of you to help your mother,” he said softly. “But you must understand that your mother and father are married. No one can interfere with that, not even me.”
Romney began to feel a sense of fear, fearful that all would not be well as Gart said it would be. He had to make the man understand.
“One time, my father pushed my mother down the stairs because he was angry,” his eyes started to tear up and he wiped them away furiously with the back of his hand. “She had a baby in her belly and the baby died. I remember that my mother almost died, too, until my father let a physic come and tend her.My mother… I love my mother. She kisses us and gives us treats, and plays games with us. She takes care of us.”
Christopher gazed steadily at the boy, his heart just about breaking. The lad was struggling so hard to be brave but his fear, his tears, had the better of him. He put a big hand on the boy’s shoulder as he stood up.
“Come over here and sit down, Master Romney,” he led the boy over to the hearth where a little chair sat. It was Christina’s chair, painted pink, but Romney didn’t notice in the dim of the room. Christopher sat in the bigger chair opposite the boy, focused on his distressed young face. “It sounds as if your mother is a wonderful woman.”
Romney’s lower lip was trembling as he continued to angrily wipe away tears. “She is always afraid when my father is home,” he said. “When he goes away, she is happy again. When Gart came to stay with us, she was happy every day. Gart makes her happy. He is nice to her and buys her nice things, and she… she is not afraid any more. Gart takes care of all of us and he loves us. We love him. That is why I do not want to go back to my father. Please do not make us.”
The last sentence was spoken with a sob. The young boy lost his battle against tears and he hung his head, weeping softly. Christopher watched the lowered head a moment before lifting his gaze to his brother.
David stood a few feet away, his features taut with sympathy. He looked as if he were about to cry himself. Christopher put a gentle hand on the boy’s lowered head as he stood up and went to his brother.
“Did you send this child in here to try and convince me?” he hissed at his brother.
David rolled his eyes. “Do you truly think I would be so treacherous?”
Christopher pursed his lips irritably at his brother for a moment before looking back to the child. Romney was wiping his face and struggling to stop his tears. Christopher sighed heavily.
“Surely I cannot return the boy and his mother to Buckland now,” he whispered. “To hear of the situation from the child’s perspective is true and clear.”
Romney turned around, hearing the whispers. He focused on the two men. “My father says that the queen is his special friend,” he said, wiping at his nose. “Maybe the queen will want him so he will forget about us. Then we can be with Gart and we will be happy again.”
Christopher and David passed long glances at each other. “It is not that simple, lad,” Christopher said. “We cannot….”
Romney jumped up from the stool, interrupting him. “But my father says he only keeps my mother because she is beautiful and has given him fine sons,” he said insistently. “When he tires of her, he will kill her and find another wife. I have heard him say so!”
Christopher went to the boy, gently forcing him back down on the little chair as he sat opposite him. “Romney, I understand your concern,” he said gently. “But the fact remains that your father and mother are married. No one can destroy that marriage no matter how terrible your father is.”
Romney’s brow furrowed as he thought on that, laboring furiously for an answer to all of this. “My father will kill my mother if you take us to him. I do not want my mother to die!”
Christopher patted the boy sympathetically on the arm. “Your father is not going to kill your mother any time soon,” he assured him. “You and your mother are going to stay here as my guests for a time.”
“How long?” Romney wanted to know.
Christopher shrugged. “Until we can figure out a solution to the situation.”
Romney felt a little better, but not much. At least he knew they weren’t going to turn them over to his father tomorrow. There was still time. As he sat in brooding silence, Christopher stood up and went to the small service door in the corner of the solar. Opening it, he instructed the servant sleeping in the alcove to bring the boy some warmed milk. Closing the door softly, he went back over to his brother.
“Now what?” he demanded in a whisper. “Since I cannot return the boy and his mother to Buckland, what do you suggest?”
David puffed out his cheeks, looking thoughtful. “It would solve our problem if Buckland went to France and got himself killed fighting Isabella’s war,” he muttered, half in jest. “Gart could marry Lady de Moyon and we would not have to agonize over this any longer.”
Christopher rubbed wearily at his eyes. “Perhaps I should hire an archer myself simply to be done with it. From what you have told me, Buckland has completely lost his mind.”
David had to agree. “Who would enter my home and try to slug me in the mouth? De Moyon is an idiot.”
Christopher fought off a grin. “I would have liked to have seen you knock his teeth out.”
David looked at him with a smirk. “It was purely in self-defense, I assure you.”
“I do not believe you.”
David started snorting as he and Christopher continued their conversation about Julian and his disturbed behavior. But as they muttered in the darkness, Romney caught most of what they were saying, especially the part about killing Julian.
Although Romney was only seven years old, he was an exceptionally intelligent child. He realized in simple terms thatthe only way to save his mother and his family was to kill his father. He had been protecting his mother all of his life but now that he was growing older, he could protect her better. Especially from his father.
