Creston shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “Keep him at the gatehouse. I will be there shortly. And make sure he is unarmed.”
“Aye, my lord.”
With that, the soldier headed back the way he had come and Creston moved in the direction of the village. Ophelia was at their cottage with the younger children and he wanted to see her before heading to the gatehouse. Even after ten years of marriage, he still missed her when he wasn’t with her. He looked forward to the conclusion of his classes so that he could be with his wife again. She fed his heart, his soul, and everything about him, like food to a starving man. Therefore, he would drop in to inform her he had business at the gatehouse before returning for supper.
Thankfully, her cooking had gotten better and he actually didn’t mind returning for it.
As he entered the village, he could already hear the voice of his four-year-old daughter, Violet. She was crying about something, which was a regular occurrence with her. His onlydaughter, his sweetheart, was very sensitive. He could also hear the voice of his two-year-old son, Shepton, and he suspected, correctly, that the two of them were fighting. They usually were. As he entered the cottage, the pair sat on the floor of the main chamber, a toy of some kind being pulled between them.
“Vi?” Creston said as he went to the tussling duo. “Shep? What is amiss? What are you fighting over?”
“The wooden horse.” An exhausted voice came from the kitchen area. “That is Vi’s horse, but Shep wants it and they fight over it constantly. Honestly, Cres, the way that lad claims everything in this house as his. He is a tyrant.”
Creston grinned as he pulled the horse out of Shepton’s grip and picked the lad up. “He takes what he wants,” he said proudly, wiping the tears from Shepton’s face. “There is nothing wrong with that. It shows initiative.”
Ophelia stuck her head out of the kitchen. “It shows that he is spoiled,” she said, frowning. “You must not indulge him like that. It ruins all of my hard work.”
Creston laughed softly as he made his way over to his wife, kissing her sweetly. “Shepton is my conqueror,” he said. “He will go on to do great and powerful things.”
“He will go on to be a dictator.”
Creston poked the boy in his rounded belly, turning his tears to laughter. “Is that what you are going to be?” he asked, teasing him. “A dictator?”
Shepton squealed with delight as his father tickled him. But he eventually wanted to be set on his feet, so Creston put down the boy, who then promptly ran back to his sister and stole her wooden horse.
The fighting started all over again.
“Apologies,” Creston said, giving his wife a remorseful look. “Do you want me to break it up?”
Ophelia shook her head wearily. “Nay,” she said. “They will eventually give up and move on. But this is constant, Cres. I do not know how I am going to have the time to deal with them once this child is born.”
She put her hand on her rather large belly and Creston put his hand over hers, pulling her against him and kissing her somewhat passionately. There was always passion between them—even more so when she was pregnant, because he found nothing more arousing than a woman pregnant with his child.
“Mayhap this babe will be an easy one,” he murmured against her mouth, her cheek. “One can always hope.”
Ophelia gave in to his warmth, his power. The man she could not live without. “Mayhap,” she whispered. “But I was thinking that I should find a nurse to help me. I’ve done it all on my own with five children, but with one more, I could use the help.”
He kissed her cheek one last time and looked at her. “If that is your wish, then we shall find one,” he said. “But you will be losing Gar soon. He will be fostering here year-round, so that is one fewer child to manage.”
She nodded, turning back to the food she was preparing. “I do not know what Keaton and Preston will do without him,” she said. “They want to do what Gar does, all of the time. They will be lost without him.”
“True.”
Violet suddenly screamed, loudly, and Creston turned for the common room to see what was amiss. Once more, Shepton had the horse and was running around as she chased him. Then she tripped and began to wail.
Creston just shook his head.
“And this has been going on all day?” he asked incredulously.
“Aye,” Ophelia said. “For Christ’s sake, have another wooden horse made for Shep so we can have some peace around here.”
Creston chuckled, but nodded. He went to pick Violet up, comforting her over her beastly little brother. As he cuddled her and soothed her, Ophelia called out from the kitchen.
“Will you help them wash their hands?” she asked. “Supper will be soon.”
That comment reminded him about his gatehouse visitor. “I will when I return,” he said. “I have business at the gatehouse. I’ll return shortly.”
“Be quick about it,” Ophelia said. “Everything is ready.”
