Chapter Two #3
“I never thought you a terrible mother,” he said quietly. “But I would like to know the truth of your husband’s treatment of you.”
Her smile faded as she gazed up at him. “Why?” she lifted her shoulders. “There is nothing you can do. He is my husband and may do as he pleases.”
Gart knew that and somehow, it hurt his heart. He knew it would have hurt Erik’s. “Is he truly the queen’s lover?” he asked quietly.
She nodded without emotion. “They have been lovers for almost a year,” she replied. “I do not know what she sees in Julian other than his wealth. He is a terrible character and a horrible….”
She trailed off, embarrassed at divulging more information than she should, and Gart’s expression grew serious.
“I am truly sorry,” he said in his soft, deep voice. “You do not deserve such disrespect. The man is a fool.”
Her smile returned, weakly. “You are very kind.”
“Kindness has nothing to do with it. It is true.”
Her smile grew, now modest. “I appreciate your concern. It has done my heart good to see you, Gart. You remind me of better days.”
Her words, kind and sweet, softened him. His heart began to beat strangely in his chest as he reached out and took her small hand in his, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss.
“It has done my heart a world of good to see you,” he said softly. “I see Erik in your eyes and it comforts me.”
Gart’s warm kiss on her hand made Emberley’s breathing quicken.
She was taken back to the days when he was a handsome, very young man and she was his adoring public.
He had grown into such a magnificent man she could hardly believe it.
She wondered how different her life would have been had she had not married Julian.
If only Gart could have been her husband…
but no. She chased the thought away as quickly as it came.
It would do no good for her to long for a man she could never have. That opportunity was long gone.
“I am glad,” she squeezed his hand and let it go. “Perhaps we will have more opportunity to speak in the next few days. Do you know when you are leaving?”
He shook his head, wishing she hadn’t let go of his hand. Her touch had been magic.
“I do not,” he told her. “My liege and your husband are debating that as we speak.”
She pulled her cloak more tightly around her slender body. The evening was growing cool and damp in spite of the bright moonlight.
“Then perhaps tomorrow we may….”
She was cut off when something hit the wall just behind Gart.
Startled, he jumped forward and threw his arms around her to protect her.
But it was the wrong move. Standing several feet behind him was Julian.
The arrow he held in his left hand, the second of two he had collected from the armory after spying his wife and Forbes upon the battlements, went sailing in Gart’s direction.
Gart put up an armored arm and easily deflected it.
Unwinding his arms from Emberley and turning to face Julian as the man approached, Gart could tell by his face that they were in for a good deal of trouble.
“Whore!” Julian screamed.
Gart remained cool, keeping Emberley protectively behind him. “My lord,” he said evenly. “Your wife and I were discussing days past when we knew each other. We were discussing her dead brother.”
Julian’s thin face was livid. He approached Gart and slugged him in the chest, although with Gart’s size and Julian’s diminutive stature, Gart hardly felt the blow. Still, the implication was obvious.
“You are alone with my wife,” he snarled. “You had your arms around her in a disgraceful embrace. How dare you violate my hospitality by taking my wife and… and wooing her.”
Gart shook his head. “I did not violate anything, my lord,” he was calm and steady. “Your wife and I knew each other as children and were discussing….”
Julian cut him off by shoving him back and reaching around to grab Emberley by the wrist. He pulled hard and she stumbled, nearly toppling over the side of the wall railing.
Gart grabbed her to keep her from going over but Julian was wild with fury – he pounded on Gart’s steadying arm even as he yanked at his wife.
Emberley didn’t put up a fight but she was trying to keep her balance as he yanked. Sensing her hesitation as resistance, Julian slapped her hard across the face.
“I will deal with you, you treacherous whore,” he snarled, lifting his hand to strike her again. “You are a….”
Before he could bring the hand down, Gart reached out and grabbed it. Julian turned to scream at him but was faced with an expression so tense, so deadly, that the words died in his throat.
De Lohr was suddenly on the battlements, as were several other de Lohr soldiers, and they were moving for Gart in a group, trying to pull him away from Buckland. Even Emberley, her right cheek stinging from the slap, reached out and grasped Gart by the arm.
“Gart, no,” she whispered, begging. “Please let him go.”
Gart heard her, as he also heard his liege behind him, firmly and quietly ordering him to let the baron’s arm go.
But at the moment, Gart could only see Buckland.
From a man he had initially found distasteful and displeasureable, that displeasure had grown into full-blown loathing quickly.
All he could see was a weak, bully of a man and he hated him for it.
“You will not strike her ever again,” he growled. “Is that clear?”
Julian was torn between fear and outrage. “You cannot make demands of me!” he howled. “I will do as I please with my own wife!”
Emberley’s soft voice infiltrated Gart’s rage. “Please, Gart,” she begged softly. “Please let him go.”
Her sweet, pleading voice broke through his haze of rage and he tore his eyes away from Buckland long enough to look at her.
She mouthed the world “please”, her big eyes beseeching him, and he reluctantly let the man’s hand go.
But Julian wasn’t a smart man – he slugged Emberley in the jaw simply to demonstrate his power and Gart went straight for his neck.
Emberley screamed as she fell onto the wall walk, trapped beneath Julian as Gart tried to break the man’s neck.
But soldiers and knights were swarming over them and someone pulled her free of the fighting.
Shaken, she looked up to see that it was de Lohr.
His handsome face was taut as he made sure she was secure before diving into the fray.
Terrified for Gart, Emberley positioned herself back against the wall as she watched eight men pull Gart off her husband.
He was such a big man and fed by such anger that his strength had been astounding.
Julian was unhurt but he was furious, screaming threats at Gart.
Knowing his wrath would eventually be turned against her, Emberley wisely fled the wall walk and raced for the keep, hearing the angry voices behind her filling the night with foul language and brutality.
Heart pounding, Emberley mounted the steps into the keep, running up the spiral stairs until she reached her children’s chambers on the third floor.
Scooping sleeping Lacy out of her bed, she fled into the boys’ bower and closed the door, throwing the heavy bolt behind her.
It would take an army to break the old door down and all of the pounding and screaming Julian would do could not breach it.
She knew she was safe, at least for the moment.
With her daughter still sleeping heavily in her arms, Emberley sank to the floor and wept.