Chapter Twenty
When the litter finally came to a stop in the bailey, Gillian gave thanks. Her stomach rolled from the constant uneven motion, and her head pounded. She longed for nothing more than her soft bed.
The door opened and her husband held out a hand to aid her down. He frowned.
"Are you ill?"
"'Tis the third time today you've asked. Nay, I am not ill. I am merely tired from the last days."
"You are home now, and you can rest again."
He still eyed her curiously as they walked toward the steps. Residents of the manor all clamored forward to welcome them back. Joy at being home, among her people again, pushed back the queasiness.
Simon pushed through the crowd, bowing with respect.
Gillian smiled, her delight at seeing her brother dampened by the sight of Burke coming up immediately behind.
Despite Royce's dismissal of her suspicions, his captain's presence still left her uneasy, as if waiting for a sword to swing at her head.
She thought of her husband's words the first night he arrived.
Her gaze settled on him as he greeted Burke.
Jesu, she hated admitting he was right. A bow would do her no good in close quarter.
Simon pulled her close for a hug. "I've missed you. How did you fare through...?"
Gillian shuddered at the recollection. "'Twas awful. But it's over, and my loyalty has been proven for the entire realm to see."
Simon chuckled. "You sound displeased."
She let out a heavy sigh. "'Tis frustrating that some would take the word of an outlaw over my own."
"You've been publicly accepted by the king."
"Until someone else decides my loyalty is questionable." Her gaze slid toward Burke, deep in conversation with her husband. "Simon, did you notice anything amiss?"
"There are some things we must discuss. In private."
While she understood Simon's reasoning, she did not wish to do anything that might raise Royce's suspicions again.
Secrecy always roused problems. Still, there wasn't much choice.
She needed to be sure before she brought any of her misgivings about Burke to Royce's attention.
She must have some sort of proof and hoped Simon had obtained it.
"I will send for you once I have unpacked. Apprise my husband of the normal activities, but say nothing of anything else. I want us both to speak to him together."
"Very well. I am glad you are home."
She smiled. "As am I."
The heat of her husband's hand on her shoulder chased the chill of her worries. She turned and allowed him to escort her up the stairs and into the hall.
Seeing the festive mood in her home, Gillian's heart swelled. How long had it been since Lyndon had been filled with laughter? She felt the joy was a good omen.
The next hours passed quickly. Edith quickly settled Gillian's belongings, and while Simon and Burke updated Royce on the issues of security and the rebels, Thomas assured Gillian the autumn crops had been gathered and tallied.
The season had been successful, so much that there was more than enough to last the winter.
Alone, she took a seat before the hearth.
How odd that after weeks of turmoil and despair, all now seemed calm.
But she couldn't shake the sense more doom lay ahead.
Tomorrow, the king arrived and Royce would join him on the journey to London.
For a moment, she wanted to ask her husband to take her along.
Nay, she must remain and oversee the manor.
Besides, the illness on just a short trip to Shrewsbury had been bad enough.
The thought of a fortnight's worth of travel left her queasy once more.
A tap on the door drew her attention. She stood and hurried to open it. Simon pushed in and quickly closed the door behind him.
"How goes it with my husband?"
"He and Burke are inspecting the barracks. He wants to expand them and permanently place some of his men in Lyndon's garrison."
She nodded. "I expected that. What of Burke?"
"He has some secrets. Several times when I approached his conversations with Henry, one of your husband's men, he would stop speaking."
"That is not enough, Simon. What about Jervais? Anything that ties them together?"
"I've not seen Burke give him any attention. And Jervais has done nothing untoward in the last week."
"There must be something. Has he done anything that appears to harm Lyndon?"
She needed some sort of proof that Burke plotted against her, or Royce, before she dared tell her husband.
Simon shifted. "Not exactly, though there is one thing I found odd. Three times, he disappeared for several hours."
"Neglecting his duties?" This could be something useful.
Simon shook his head. "I cannot say, but twice I saw him ride in from the southern edge of the forest. But he'd headed north when he departed. When he returned, he appeared agitated. Kept looking around to see if anyone noticed him. His horse was in a lather, he'd been ridden hard and fast."
"Something to do with the rebels?"
"I don't know. I want to follow him next time."
Gillian paced, considering Simon's words. Leaving in one direction, returning from another wasn't enough to raise alarms, but she sensed this was crucial.
"Very well. But be careful. If he's consorting with traitors, he'll do anything to keep from being discovered."
"I will use every caution. We'll uncover something soon."
"Yes, well until we have some proof of Burke's wrongdoings, we cannot tell Royce. Mayhap by the time he returns from London." She hugged her brother. "Thank you. Now, go prepare for supper. I'm famished and wish to find Royce so we may eat."
***
Sunlight filtering through the shutters woke Gillian.
She stretched, finding herself alone. Just at the moment she realized the day marked her husband's departure from Lyndon, a large wave of nausea rolled over her.
She flung back the bedcovers and hurried to the washbasin.
The sickness had come upon her so fast; she had barely enough time to reach the basin before emptying her stomach.
Weak and shaky, she slumped on the floor, willing strength back into her limbs.
She'd thought once she'd returned from Shrewsbury, the memory of the execution growing more distant, the sickness would go away.
When she finally regained enough strength to stand, she strode to the door and called for her maid.
If only Royce hadn't insisted Edith bed down in the great hall with the others.
Then again, she had no wish for the woman to witness the carnal games her husband liked to play.
At the recollection of last night, heat slithered along her spine.
She would miss him in their bed most of all.
A month. He would be gone only a month. The time would surely pass quickly.
Once dressed, she hurried to the hall, dismayed to see the tables had already been cleared.
She had no desire for food, but feared Royce had already left.
At the sound of her name, she turned, relieved to see her husband, fully dressed in his mail, helm in the crook of his arm, standing by the doors.
Her smile would not be contained as she made her way toward him.
He drew her close and slid his lips across hers in a gentle yet, soul-searing kiss.
Again, the realization of how much she'd long for him dampened her mood.
'Twas not fair he must leave when they finally had reached an accord in their marriage, one that gave her hope for a happy future.
"I will miss you," she said when he drew away.
"And I, you." He gave her a smile and ran a finger along her cheek. "I will return anon."
She nodded and hugged him, wishing she could stay in his arms like this forever. A cough beside them drew her from her reverie. Burke stood at attention. When Gillian met his dark eyes, she suppressed an apprehensive shudder. Despite her husband's assurances, misgivings rose again.
"Ah, Burke. You will follow the countess' orders, and rely on her as well. I am depending on you and Simon to keep my home and my lady safe."
The delight bubbling through her at his words made her smile. She turned, Simon approaching.
"The king is ready, my lord."
Her brother looked happy and Gillian supposed Lady Madelaine had something to do with that. She recalled the queen's assurances that arrangements for a wedding would commence upon her and Edward's return to London. Gillian looked forward to attending court.
"I must go," Royce said. He pressed another kiss to her lips and released her.
She nodded, the burn of tears growing stronger. She followed him out of the hall and down the stairs, across the bailey to where the king and his train waited. Edward sat tall in the saddle, clearly impatient judging from his scowl. Royce mounted.
"My lord, wait!" Gillian grabbed his leg. She pulled a ribbon from her hair and handed it to him. She urged him to lean down. He did, eyeing her curiously.
"You give me a favor?"
She gave him a sly smile and lowered her voice. "You may use it on me when you return." Understanding sparked in his eyes and he chuckled. "I cannot wait, Wildcat."
She stepped back. Royce wheeled his destrier around and fell into place beside the king. She waved, forcing the smile to remain until he had vanished through the gates. Only when he disappeared from view did she let her tears fall.
Simon's arm around her shoulders opened the floodgates.
She turned into his embrace. When had she lost her heart to her husband, to be so upset to see him go?
Why did he have to leave when they'd only just reached a place where they could be happy?
She silently railed at the unjustness of the situation, then forced the tears to stop.
She had a manor to run and protect, and wanted to prove herself capable to Royce upon his return.
***
The recollection of the tears welling in his wife's eyes soured Royce's mood. He watched