Chapter Eight #2
Garren knew that, in the grand scheme of things, nine days was a trifle. He would trust Fergus and his judgment completely as to the right time to whisk Derica from Framlingham, so it was quite possible that he was looking at weeks. It was a depressing thought. He didn’t know if he could take it.
It was an hour before sunset. He had been in his sister’s chamber since just after sunrise.
Over the past nine days, they had spent an indeterminate number of hours talking about so many things he could hardly keep track.
It was the most time he had ever spent with his sister at one time and, in spite of the circumstances, he had enjoyed it.
Gabrielle had kept him calm and occupied and, for that, he was grateful.
But on this ninth day, He spent his waking hours resigning himself to a long wait.
When Gabrielle was summoned to help with the evening meal preparation, Garren excused himself and wandered to the entry hall of the abbey.
He wasn’t allowed anywhere else. He stood there a moment, muddled and unfocused.
Thinking that he should perhaps check on his horse to occupy himself, he opened the door and stepped out into the fading sunlight.
The horse was tethered with some other animals in a small shelter the abbey used for a stable.
Garren wandered through the ward, glancing up into the trees when he heard a hawk cry.
The branches over his head were thick with greenery and moisture, filtering the weak rays of the sun.
He was nearing the stables when he heard the abbey gate swing open and shut heavily.
Knowing some of the nuns had been out in the trees gathering mushrooms, he didn’t give the squeaking gate a second thought.
He was learning to control those impulses that had him running to the door every time he heard the iron-clad sound of the gate.
The horse’s hindquarters were facing him.
He put his hands on the beast and shoved it sideways.
Ever since his trip to Framlingham, the horse had shown a tendency to come up lame on the right front leg and he wanted to check it again.
The horse was still favoring the leg, but not nearly as it had been.
He was deep in his inspection of the fetlock when a voice filled his ears, a sweet note that he thought he surely must have dreamt.
He heard it again, louder this time, and some familiar part of him inside ignited like a roaring flame.
Someone was calling his name. He looked up from the horse’s leg and turned around.
Derica stood several feet away, dirty, disheveled, with tears streaming down her face. She said his name again, so choked she could hardly speak, and Garren nearly came apart.
Somehow, he managed to stumble over to her.
It was odd how everything seemed so dreamlike, as if time itself had slowed.
He could hardly believe what he was seeing.
But the moment he touched her, the dream burst and she was very real and very warm.
He pulled her into an embrace that threatened to crush her.
“Derica,” he whispered. “My God… are you real?”
She was sobbing. “I am.” Her arms were around his neck so tightly that she was in danger of strangling him. “Garren, I have missed you so. I did not know you would be here. Fergus said….”
His bruising lips cut her short. In a short matter of seconds, his mouth was on hers, kissing her as if he had been doing it all of his life. She was sweet and soft and he kissed her until she gasped for breath.
“You have no idea how I have longed for you, how much I have thought of you,” he murmured in between heated kisses.
“The day I walked from Framlingham I was sure that my life was over.” He paused, holding her face in his hands, drinking in the sight of her.
“My God, you are more beautiful than I had remembered.”
She smiled through her tears, running a finger over his delicious lips. “I could not believe it when Fergus came for me,” she murmured. “He said that you wanted to marry me.”
He kissed her furiously, again, because he could not get enough of her. “If you will have me.”
“I will have none other.”
He squeezed the breath out of her. For an eternity of sweet moments, they said nothing.
Their words were in their kisses, in their touch.
Garren was so delirious that it took him some time to realize the entire back of her dress was damp and cold.
Like a man waking from a dream, he struggled to get a grip on reality.
And the reality was that she was cold and wet.
He let her go long enough to turn her around to see just how bad off she really was.
“Why are you all wet?” he asked.
Derica was swooning with happiness and exhaustion. “I fell into the creek when Fergus…,” her eyes suddenly grew wide with fear. “Garren, Fergus is in trouble.”
“What trouble?”
“My family has been chasing us since we left Framlingham, three days ago,” she said. “They almost caught up to us earlier today. Fergus sent me on to the abbey while he went to lead them off our trail.”
Reality settled more firmly on Garren; were they to leave the safety of the abbey while the de Rosa patrols were still in the area, they risked running into them.
However, as the only abbey in the area and place of safe haven, it would be inevitable that, at some point, the de Rosa band would come knocking at the door.
Even though Derica could claim sanctuary, still, it would make for an ugly situation, especially if they knew that Garren was with her. He couldn’t risk being discovered.
“He is buying us time to get away,” Garren took her gently by the arm. “We must get out of here. Did you bring anything with you?”
“No, nothing. We left hastily to avoid being followed, but we were followed anyway.”
Garren didn’t say anything to that; he simply patted her hand. Derica followed him across the ward and into the abbey. It was cool and dark, the smells of cooking wafting on the air. Her damp dress was causing her a chill and she shivered. Garren could feel her twitch.
“First things first,” he said. “We must get you into something dry and get you something to eat.”
“It has been a while since I last ate.”
“Didn’t Fergus feed you?”
“Of course he did. But the last of our bread ran out this morning.”
“I hope he was chivalrous. He didn’t eat everything, did he?”
“He ate hardly a thing. He let me have most of it.”
“As well he should.” He kissed her again, just because he wanted to. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you again. Although I hoped for the best, I wasn’t sure if the best would come.”
She smiled and grasped his hand, tightly. He took her into a small corridor and into the second chamber on the right; it was empty but for a cot, a small table and two chairs. It was dark, and somewhat creepy.
“I shall see if the nuns have something you can wear while your gown dries,” he said. “Sit down and rest a moment, sweetheart. I shall return shortly.”
She sat down, but she continued holding his hand as if she was fearful to let him out of her sight. He knelt down beside her and kissed her hand gently.
“I promise, I shan’t be long,” he kissed her lips. “Everything will be all right, Derica. I swear it.”
Their gazes locked and she smiled, putting her hands around his neck affectionately.
“I know it will,” she said. “Do you remember when we were up on the battlements of Framlingham, right after we’d first met, how you told me that we would be in for a good deal of trouble were my father to find us alone and unescorted? ”
He grinned. “I do.”
“I think this is a bit more serious than that.”
“Agreed.”
“But even if they were to break the door down this moment, for the feeling that I have right now when I look at you, it would be well worth the price.”
He was deeply touched. “I can tell you now that I intend there should be many more moments like this one,” he whispered. “You shall never be out of my sight, ever.”
Derica knew he meant every word of it. “But what about Fergus? Aren’t you going to help him?”
“Fergus can take care of himself. To go chasing after him right now would only ruin what he is trying to accomplish.”
She understood, but still, she worried for him. “He is a good friend to you.”
“The very best. I am concerned for him, of course, but I would do more harm than good in my attempt to help him right now.”
Derica smiled sadly and let go of his hand so he could search for something dry for her to wear. With a wink, Garren left her in the cold, silent room.
She must have been more exhausted than she’d realized. She was aware that she was on her back, still in that dark little room, with soft voices around her. She stirred a bit before sitting up, groggily.
Garren was sitting across from her on a small chair. There was a tiny figure swathed in brown and white beside him, and the two of them were talking softly. Garren caught sight of her and smiled.
“I am sorry, sweetheart,” he stood up and went to her. “Did we wake you?”
She shook her head. “No,” she rubbed her head. “How long have I been asleep?”
“A few hours,” Garren sat down next to her and put his arm around her. “I came back with something dry for you to wear and you were asleep sitting up. So I laid you down on the bed. You never woke up.”
Derica yawned delicately, trying not to be rude. “I did not realize I was so exhausted, but this is the first bed I have slept on in days. Fergus was afraid to put us up at an inn for fear we’d be discovered, so we slept in the woods.”
Garren hugged her gently. “You have had a rough time of it.”
She grinned, rubbing the sleep from her eye. “Not really. It is all been rather adventurous.”
The tiny figure in brown and white twitched, reminding them that it was still there. Garren looked over at the silhouette.
“I would like you to meet someone,” he said to Derica. “This is Sister Mary Felicitas.”