“Not at all. David and I crave the excitement.”
“But your life was so quiet before we came.”
Offa snorted. “It was dull. At least now we have something to look forward to.”
“A battle?”
The old man’s eyes lit up, memories of glory from long ago filling his mind. “Indeed. Fine adventures of bloody battles!”
Derica looked at her husband and they smiled at each other. After a few more moments of languishing before the fire, she forced herself to stand. “I believe I shall go to bed.” She stretched her shapely body. “Good eve to you, my lords.”
The men responded politely. David stole a quick glance but just as quickly turned away. Garren excused himself and followed his wife up the narrow steps the led into the minstrel’s gallery above the hall. He’d fashioned a large screen out of wood and rushes, hiding them from the view down below. A pallet of more rushes and bedding from Emyl’s humble home lay upon the floor, comfortable enough for the two of them. Garren felt bad that he had nothing to offer her other than borrowed goods and the bare minimum of comfort. She deserved so much more. As his wife lay down, he tucked the worn coverlets in around her.
“Someday, we’ll have a massive castle and the finest bedding money can buy,” he said softly. “You will only touch satins and silks, I swear it.”
She smiled. “I have had that. It matters naught if you are not with me to share it.”
“So you prefer rushes that scratch and poke?”
“As long as they scratch and poke you, too.”
He sat there a moment, gazing down at her, torn between tremendous joy and tremendous sorrow. He could not delay the inevitable; the longer he put it off, the harder it would be.
It was quiet in the gallery. He tucked the covers in tighter around her, trying to think of the correct words, when she interrupted his thoughts.
“I have something to tell you,” she said softly.
“You do? What?”
“You’re going to be leaving soon.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I am?”
“Aye,” she nodded. “You must attend William Marshal. He needs to know all that has gone on at Framlingham during the past few weeks.”
“Hmmm,” he looked at her with interest. “You are correct, madam. The security of this country is at stake. When must I leave?”
“I would think tomorrow,” she said as if issuing orders. “The sooner you leave, the sooner you return.”
He nodded, a warm twinkle in his eye. “I cannot tell you how much is pains me that I must go alone. I wish I could take you with me.”
“I am safe here,” Derica was trying to be brave. “I have Emyl and Offa and David to protect me.”
An eyebrow lifted. “Mind that David keeps a respectful distance. I would hate to have to kill him.”
“David is afraid of me. I swear that if I winked at him, he’d faint.”
“I have spent my life being suspicious of the motives of others. Though he seems harmless enough, I cannot discount his thoughts should I not be here as a thwarting presence.”
“I am my own thwarting presence. I have thwarted many an amorous suitor in my time.”
He grinned. “But not me.”
She returned his smile. “Nay, not you. You were the only man who lowered himself from the roof into my boudoir. With such dedication, how could I discourage you?”
His smile faded as he gazed into her eyes. “Christ, I am going to miss you. I am so sorry that I must leave, even for a short time.”
The longing in his voice squeezed her heart, making it difficult to be brave. “How long do you think you shall be away?”
