Edward’s expression turned incredulous. “You would do that?”
“My wife is more important than you are,” Brandt’s dark eyes drilled into the man. “You have denied me long enough the privilege of returning home and I will be denied no longer. I am going home but I will return in time for your negotiations with Jean. If you do not like these terms, then find someone else to plan your foolish wars. I will return to England and forget I ever knew you.”
Edward just stared at him. For several long moments, it was a tense standoff to see which way the pendulum would swing.Brandt would not bend, Edward knew that. Although unused to bending himself, he knew he would have to if he wanted to retain his Black Angel. He was unused to the new terms of their relationship but he knew he had no choice. Finally, he broke out in a smile. Then, he started to laugh. He laughed heartily and slapped Brandt on the shoulder, hoping to ease the tension.
“Go home, you big lout,” he snorted. “I will tell Jean we will meet to discuss on the last day of the month, so you have eleven days to spend with your wife before returning to me. Is that acceptable?”
Brandt wasn’t in a humorous or forgiving mood. “It is a start.”
Without another word or a hint of a smile in return, Brandt quit the hall. He was riding hard for Melesse less than ten minutes later.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Oh, God… thearmor… I recognize it!
She was in that awful mess of a dream again, gazing down at the injured knight beneath the tree. What she thought was a de Nerra coat of arms on the breast plate wasn’t de Nerra at all. It was a bird of prey with great talons ready to spear its enemies. It sat upon a broad, broad chest, much bigger than her father ever was. In fact, the man was enormous.
All she could feel was sheer terror as she gazed down at the man beneath the tree. He was leaning up against the trunk, his helmed head facing away from her, and she crouched down on shaking legs next to him.
Angst and terror and panic gripped her. It was raining again and the tree provided minimal shelter. She felt wet all over. A nervous glance over her shoulder showed the castle in the distance to be half-melted now, bleeding out into the fields around it. It was horribly unsettling. The mud fields were churning now, churning the bodies in the ground, making them appear as if they were rolling over and over in their graves.
Frightened, she turned back to the knight against the tree. With a shaking hand, she reached out and lifted the visor so she could see his face. Then, all she could see were his eyes.
She knew those eyes.
*
Ellowyn was entrenchedin the awful dream when she felt the bed give slightly. It wasn’t a big shift, but big enough to rouse hersomewhat. She was so exhausted, however, that very soon she was drifting back to sleep, snoring softly. The dream was gone but the anxiety was still there. Someone gently kissed the hand by her face and Ellowyn slowly opened her eyes.
Brandt was lying next to her, smiling into her sleeping face. Mind foggy from the terrible dream, it took Ellowyn a moment to realize she was looking at him and when realization dawned, it was as if the sun had emerged from behind the clouds. All was bright and well in her world again, and her apprehension had vanished. She smiled sleepily.
“Are you real?” she whispered.
“I am real.”
“I am not dreaming?”
“Nay, sweetheart, you are not dreaming.”
“Tell me you love me.”
“With everything I am, I love you more with each breath I take.”
That was enough for her. She reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck, overwhelmed with joy and ecstasy as he pulled her into his muscular embrace. She pressed tight against him, and he against her, but when he realized how big her belly was, he backed off.
“I am sorry,” he whispered, one hand on her stomach as the other held her. “Did I hurt you?”
Ellowyn didn’t like being held at arm’s length. She resumed pressing herself against him. “Of course not,” she murmured, her lips on his face. “You have finally returned to me. It seemed as if you were gone forever.”
“It seemed that way to me as well,” he said, his hand still on her hard belly, feeling the growing life within with awe and gratitude. “My son has grown quite large.”
She grinned. “He will become bigger still,” she said. “He is not due to be born for another few weeks yet. His is very restless, however; I believe he wants to be born now.”
Brandt was grinning because she was. “What is he doing?”
She rolled onto her back so he could get both hands on her belly. It seemed that he was most interested in that at the moment. She put her hands on his as he felt up her stomach.
“He kicks constantly,” she said. “Sometimes I cannot sleep because he is kicking me.”
