Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Very well,” Julian suddenly seemed very resigned. His mercurial fury had tempered and he ran his hands through his dark hair, laboring for control. “Very well, then. If we must speak of divorce, then I will speak only to you. I want to talk to you alone. Everyone else must leave this room.”
“Never,” Gart roared. “You will never be alone with her, Buckland, not if God himself stood before me and demanded it. I will kill you before I allow you to be alone with her.”
He started to move forward but Christopher rushed over and grabbed him, holding him at bay along with David. Even with the two of them and their considerable strength, it was still a struggle. It was like trying to stop a raging bull.
Julian was clever and knew how to play the game. He could play it very well when his temper didn’t have the best of him. He looked Gart in the eye.
“Then you shall not have your divorce,” he said frankly. “If you want it badly enough, you will have to make allowances. I want to speak with my wife alone without interference from anyone. Those are my terms or no divorce.”
Stricken, Emberley looked at Gart. He was barely holding himself in check, trapped between David and Christopher, and she knew that the entire situation rested on her shoulders. She was the only one that could convince Gart of what needed to be done. Setting Romney to his feet, she went to Gart.
Pressed up against his heaving chest, she put her hands on his shoulders.
“Gart, please,” she whispered. “If there is a chance he will do as we asked, then I am willing to concede to this demand.”
Gart was so angry that he was trembling, straining against David and Christopher.
“Nay,” he rumbled. “I will not permit it.”
“Please,” she begged softly. “Nothing will happen. You will be right on the other side of the door, listening to everything. If you hear trouble, you can come right in and save me. Please, Gart. We must do as he asks if there is the slightest chance I can obtain my divorce.”
Gart didn’t like it – God knew, he didn’t like it in the least. He was as resistant to the idea as he had ever been, hating Julian for the manipulative suggestion and more than eager to wrap his hands around the man’s throat and squeeze.
He tried to ignore the idea that Emberley might be correct, too fearful to allow her to be alone with the man.
For the past several hours, it had been Emberley who had been afraid to even be near Julian.
Now, she was begging to be alone with him.
If only for the opportunity to discuss divorce, she was willing to try. Gart should be willing, too.
Trembling, struggling, he gazed into her pleading face and began to relent. An expression of extreme pain crossed his face.
“Kitten…,” he whispered.
She smiled bravely at him. “’Twill be all right,” she assured him softly. “You will be right outside the door. Nothing can happen. But if he is willing to discuss a divorce to me alone, then we must take the chance.”
He gritted his teeth. “Nay.”
“Do you have a better idea, then?”
He didn’t. It was then he began to realize that he might have to allow her to do as Julian had asked. Gart hated the idea. He really did. As Emberley caressed his shoulders gently, encouragingly, he finally surrendered and hated himself for it.
“Very well.” He felt as if all of the air had been sucked out of him, weak with defeat.
He looked over at Julian, standing smug and expectant.
“You may speak with her alone but rest assured I will be right outside the door. If I hear any sounds other than civil conversation, I will come in here and I will kill you. Do you comprehend?”
Julian smiled thinly, nearly setting Gart off, and Emberley threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly.
It was enough to distract him from his fury and he wrapped his arms around her.
The feel of her, the smell of her, settled and calmed him.
Face against the side of her head, he inhaled deeply of her sweet, musky fragrance.
“Go,” Emberley whispered. “Take Romney with you.”
“Nay!” Romney heard his name, crying out. “I want to stay with you!”
Emberley released Gart and bent down to her son. “You must go with Gart. I will not be long.”
Romney shook his head furiously, holding on to his mother’s arm as if afraid Gart was going to drag him away. He turned to his father.
“I want to stay with Mama,” he told Julian.
Julian waved him off. “You may stay.”
Now Gart was worried about the boy as well as Emberley but he allowed Christopher and David to turn him around and steer him towards the chamber door. Emberley put her hands on his back, helping the baron and the earl remove him. Gart was a very big man and he wasn’t moving easily.
Mellitus began to follow, motioning to the papal guards, but Jonas hesitated.
“I would like to stay,” he looked at Julian. “As a neutral witness and for safety’s sake, I would like to remain.”
“I would agree with that suggestion,” Christopher almost had Gart through the door as he spoke. “I am sure it would make the lady feel comforted.”
Julian simply shrugged his shoulders as he moved towards the hearth, pretending to inspect the enormous and elaborate mantel.
He ran his hands along the wood, ignoring those exiting the room.
He was focused on what he was about to do, what he must accomplish, and it would not work to his advantage to either be too eager or too resistant to the priest’s presence. The man would not get in his way.
Gart’s gaze lingered on Julian, seemingly interested in the hearth, before looking to Emberley one last time.
She smiled at him and blew him a kiss, and he couldn’t help but smile in return.
But that was his last glimpse of her as David and Christopher managed to get him out the door, followed by Father Mellitus and the papal guards.
One of the guards shut the door softly behind him.
Gart stood right next to the door. He wasn’t going to budge and no one would force him. No one seemed to be moving from the entry hall, in fact, most of them clustered near the door as well. Only the papal guards moved off into the shadows.
Gart found a comfortable position next to the door, his ears peaked, listening for any movement or any words beyond the panel. For the moment, it remained silent. He didn’t hear a thing until from the other side of the heavy oak door, there was distinct sound of the bolt being thrown.
It was a final, sickening sound. Gart immediately grabbed the latch, seeing that it was indeed locked. David moved up beside him.
“What happened?” he jiggled the frozen lock himself. “Who locked the damn door?”
Gart knew the answer to that. Dear God, he knew the answer. He began pounding on the door.
“Buckland!” he hollered. “Open the door or I will break it down!”
Christopher, seeing the commotion, tried the lock as if he didn’t believe Gart and David. Shoving Gart aside, he lashed out a massive boot and kicked the door. The old panel shuddered but didn’t break. Panicked, Gart began ramming his big shoulder into the door jamb.
“Emberley?” he hollered. “Can you hear me? Open the door!”
He heard Emberley scream his name and he froze, a look of such horror on his face that it was difficult to fathom. He looked at David, and then Christopher, before going wild and trying to kick the door in. But the heavy, well-built door stood strong.
“Emberley!” he bellowed. “I hear you, kitten! I am coming!”
David bolted to the kitchens, racing outside and shouting across the yard toward the troop house that was down near the stables. As he roused the soldiers, Christopher and Gart continued to try to break the door down. They could hear screaming and things breaking from the other side.
Gart was beside himself with terror. He was ramming into the door so hard that he’d managed to strike his head against it, drawing blood.
“Is there another way in?” he demanded.
Christopher shook his head. “Only this door,” he told him. “The exterior windows are too narrow to enter. The house was built so that each room can act autonomously if the manse is breached. This door can withstand almost anything.”
That wasn’t the answer Gart wanted to hear. He could hear more screaming and objects breaking and he was crazed with fear.
“We need something to break the door down with,” he grabbed the earl with his bloodied knuckles. “We cannot break this door down without assistance.”
David came barreling back into the entry hall at that moment. He had a battle axe in his hands.
“Here,” he tossed it to Gart. “Breach the door.”
Gart deftly caught the axe, planted his feet, and swung the pike-end of it at the door. Pieces of wood flew off but it was going to take time. Gart began swinging with all his might.
“I have more men coming,” David told them, breathing heavily from having run to the yard and then to the armory. “They are bringing axes and weapons.”
“She will be dead before they get here,” Gart grunted, hacking away at the junction just above the bolt. “If I can just make a hole in the door, I can get my arm in and unlock it.”
Above their heads on the staircase landing, they heard weeping. Gart didn’t bother to look up, but David and Christopher did. Emilie was standing there, sobbing with fear.
“What has happened?” she wept. “Where is Emberley?”
David raced up the stairs to his wife, taking her in his arms. He didn’t quite know how to explain that they had been duped by a madman, feeling sick and ashamed.
“It is all right, sweetling,” he held her close. “We will get to her.”
“But… she is screaming!” Emilie wept. “He is killing her! Oh, please, hurry!”
“Gart is moving as fast as he can,” David was wrought with terror, too. He knew they were all listening to a murder taking place. “He will save her.”