Emberley gazed back at him with wide, terrified eyes. Her lower lip trembled and her eyes watered over with tears.
“Please,” she begged. “Do not go down there. Let us leave, now, run far and fast so they can never catch us.”
He kissed her wet cheeks. “What about Orin, Brendt and Lacy?” he asked. “We cannot leave now. We cannot leave them behind.”
She closed her eyes, a sob escaping her lips as she nodded. “Nay, we cannot.”
Gart sighed heavily, kissing her cheeks again. “I am going to go downstairs and find out why Buckland is here,” he told her firmly but gently. “It is very important to me that you compose yourself. I cannot think if I know you are hysterical because all I will be thinking of is comforting you. If I know you are strong, I will be strong. Do you understand?”
Emberley swallowed hard, meeting his gaze. “A-aye,” she hiccupped. “I am… am sorry to weep so. It is simply that… Julian is here and….”
He kissed her soft mouth, cutting her off before she could start crying again.
“I know,” he said softly. “I intend to find out why but I need for you to be calm and composed. It will help me immensely. Agreed?”
She nodded unsteadily, wiping at her nose as she labored to stop the tears. “I will calm,” she said with more bravery than she felt. “I will do my best.”
He smiled at her, cupped her face and kissed her one last time.
“Good girl,” he cooed. Then he stood up, peeling her hands from his arms and handing her over to Emilie. “I will be back as soon as I can, I swear it. But you stay here with the door bolted. You will not open it for anyone but me or David or the earl. Is that clear?”
Emberley nodded obediently. “It is, Gart.”
He winked at her as he moved to the door, noticing Romney standing in the corner, looking terrified. His heart softened as he gazed at the frightened boy, extending a hand to him. Romney emerged from the corner and went to him.
Gart took a knee in front of the boy so he could speak to him at his level. He was serious but gentle.
“I need you to watch over your mother until I return,” he put a big hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Can you do this?”
Romney nodded solemnly. “Aye, Gart.”
Gart patted his shoulder and stood up. “Good lad,” he glanced back at Emberley and gave her a smile. “I will return shortly.”
Gart pulled the chair away and unlatched the bolt, quitting the room. Once he was gone, Romney rushed up and threw the bolt, shoving the chair up against the door again. He kicked it for good measure just to make sure it was solid.
Turning to look at his mother, he could see that she was still crying, now quietly into her hand. Lady Emilie was trying her best to comfort her. Confused, frightened, Romney wandered back over to the corner where he had been standing, lost to his own young and turbulent thoughts.
His father was at Bellham, invading a place that had been full of joy and comfort for Romney and his mother. He even had a pony to ride. Now his father had ruined everything, like he always did. How many times had Romney wanted to protect his mother from his father’s brutal beatings, to comfort her and make her smile. He’d never been able to help her very much, but that was before. Now he was older, bigger, and Gart had taught him much about weapons and fighting. Well, for the most part. A wooden sword wasn’t an effective weapon but a real sword would be.
As Romney wandered over to the darkened corner, he brushed by the table where Gart had been sharpening his sword. The pumice stone still lay there as did the five daggers Gart had brought up from the armory.
As his mother sat on the bed and wept, Romney eyed the daggers. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure his mother wasn’t looking, he shoved one of them into his tunic.
He had to protect her.
*
Outside on thelanding, Gart heard the door shut behind him and the bolt thrown. He stood there a moment, struggling to push his last vision of Emberley’s face out of his mind– terrified and pale. He heard the bolt engage behind him, taking a deep breath to compose himself before heading downstairs.
The moment he put a foot on the staircase, he saw David standing at the base of the steps. Quickly, he took the stairs to join him.
“How is she?” David asked softly.
Gart nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as if to rub away the stress. “Understandably upset,” he said. “But she is calming. Emilie is with her.”
David nodded. “Good,” he muttered, pulling Gart in the direction of the solar. “You and I must speak.”
Gart looked around as David pulled him aside. “Where is Buckland?”
