A Widow Plagued (14 page)

Sara sighed. “I will be well. Sir John can malign me as he so wishes...Tis Hannah that worries me.”

“I can protect her, Sara. The only folk who could state for certain Hannah's legitimacy are her sires and they are dead. She was born within wedlock to Lord Sanders, and thus she is his daughter, just as Elizabeth is mine.”

Sara sighed and stretched out on the mattress. “I will pray the king sees it that way, Gavin.”

“If I have my way, the king will never hear a word about it,” Gavin growled, seating himself next to Sara and pulling off his tall boots.

Sara smiled. Gavin turned to her and the light from the moon revealed his frown. “I'll not chastise ye again for running off, Sara, but I would have yer word ye will never do so again. I can nay protect ye if I do not ken where ye are.”

Sara's frown matched Gavin's. “I promise I will not leave without telling ye first,” Sara swore. She knew she had been foolish and naïve in thinking she could take on Sir John alone.

“Sara...”

“Aye, Gavin?”

“I cannot protect ye and Hannah, if our marriage is annulled.”

Sara shivered. “Sir John states he will kill ye to marry me. He couldn't possibly think-”

“Aye, he has already proposed we have not consummated this marriage. We must make our marriage complete afore we face the king. I will lie with ye tonight.”

Sara's sharp intake of breath indicated her surprise. “It has not yet been six weeks since Elizabeth was born. Millie said we should wait until then.”

“Are ye still bleeding?”

“Nay...”

“Then tis time enough.”

Gavin began removing his clothes as a soldier might don armor for battle.

“P-please, Gavin, I have had a very trying day and, and I am frightened.”

Gavin paused in removing his chauses and looked into the darkness of the wagon, toward Sara. Grunting in response, Gavin pulled Sara close to his side. Laying back with her upon the tic, he whispered. “We live in a time of war, plague, and pestilence. Most days will be trying days. Most days will give us something to fear. We cannot wait to live our lives free from such. We will grab what happiness that we can, when we can.”

“I think we should wait,” Sara whispered.

“I think whenever we do this, ye will be frightened. I think we have risked much already, waiting as long as we have. I dare not wait longer.”

Sara lay back against the feather tic and sighed.

A long silence ensued. Then, Gavin again sat to remove his chauses. Thus disrobed, he rolled onto his side and found the bottom hem of Sara's gown. With two hands, he easily slipped it up and over her head. Quickly, he pulled a thick blanket over them both, to protect against the night's chill.

Sara shivered as Gavin pulled her bare frame firmly against his naked body. Cupping her bottom with his free hand, Gavin hugged her tightly, giving her time to adjust to the sudden intimacy. Several minutes passed before Sara relaxed her muscles.

Gavin rewarded this gift of trust with a slow kiss. Sara's lips softened to his and Gavin lessened his hold, using the available space to press gentle kisses along her brow, nose, and jawline.

“Mmmm,” Sara hummed in contentment, prodding Gavin to roll her onto her back. He reached out to caress her breasts and covered each pink tip with his tongue in turn. Kissing his way back up her neck, he plundered her mouth once more. Sara responded, opening her mouth and welcoming his caresses.

Gavin’s arm slid beneath Sara's neck, and he deepened the kiss. Sara felt hot and flushed. Her focus became the intimate sensation of Gavin’s tongue within her mouth and the hot throb between her legs. Moaning, she lay back against the covers as he relaxed his arm.

Before she could feel the cool air against her skin, Gavin ran his hand across her stomach and between the cleft at the apex of her legs. Sucking in her breath, Sara tried to sit up. “Relax, Cara Mia, relax, My Dear,” Gavin whispered in her ear. “Ye feel so good. I just want to touch ye.”

Sara relaxed and let the sensations take over. Her body flooded with heat, and her thighs fell open wantonly. Rising above her, Gavin eased himself within her. She was tight and pulsing about him. He forced himself to move slowly, reminding himself that he took her, not for pleasure, but for sealing the sanctity of their marriage.

Sara's hips rolled, seating him deeply within her moist, wet channel. Rocking into her, Gavin lost his prized control. She was everything feminine. Her soft warmth enveloped him. Instinct took over. Pumping himself into her, he shuttered as his seed poured.

Gavin regained his senses to find he had collapsed atop this wife. Rolling to the side, he ran his palm along her cheek and felt it wet with tears. Peering down at his young wife, aghast, he cupped her wet cheek. “Have I harmed ye, Sara?”

Sara shook her head. “N-no. I am fine.”

Gavin wished he could see her face, to assess the truth of her statement. Instead, he sighed and pulled her closer to him. “If I have done something wrong, thou must tell me.”

“I am fine, Gavin. It has just been a long day.”

“Well, rest well, My Dear.”

“Good night,” Sara whispered. She knew not what to do with her body. Gavin had not let her go, but cuddled her against his form. His hand remained over her private area in a proprietary gesture. Sara’s emotions swirled. She could not make sense of how she felt. She wanted to cuddle closer and leap out of bed simultaneously. She felt guilty for having met, wedded, and bedded a man all within the same year of her first husbands death.

And yet, it felt good to drift off to sleep feeling safe and sated. Stretching, she placed a small space between herself and Gavin before drifting into a fitful sleep.

Chapter
8

All the King's Men

The day before they arrived at court dawned grey and drizzly. Quickly, Sara slid from Gavin's embrace and donned her kirtle. Slipping from the men's wagon, Sara dashed over to the women's. Pulling Elizabeth from Millie's grasp, Sara snuggled beneath the quilt to nurse. She was cold and confused as to how she felt about her feelings for Gavin. Today, she would stay warm and dry with Elizabeth in the wagon. Roused by Sara's entrance into the wagon, Hannah donned her cloak in preference for the fresh air.

“What?” Hannah challenged, when Sara eyed her dubiously. “I cannot abide riding in the wagon. The way it sways makes me ill.”

Sara said nothing but rolled back over. Millie laughed. “She's smitten, is all. Let her have these few months to feel over the moon for the young man. Courting is such a short time in a young lady's life, before all the demands of womanhood come crashing down about her. Ye can't deny the girl a bit of starry eyed romance, can ye now, My Lady?”

Sighing, Sara responded. “Nay, I do not. I just don't understand it, is all. I never had stars in my eyes, when it came to a man. They are very base creatures. I just don't see how Hannah can nay see that.”

“Ach, do nay act like ye did not sneak back into this wagon after being with yer own bonny groom. Besides, she can see the frailties in most men. But for now, she can nay see it in Sir David. If she is truly blessed, she'll always have a blind spot for her man. Tis the only way to forgive him all his frailties. We can also hope that he will do the same for her.”

Sara sat up and looked at Millie. “Ignoring other's weaknesses can be dangerous,” Sara looked pointedly at Millie.

“No
t
ignorin
g
, my pet
,
forgivin
g
. These are two different things. We can acknowledge the faults in others and still forgive them their trespasses, as they, we hope, forgive us for those times we harm them with our mistakes.”

Sara felt chastised, and for good reason. She had not given any quarter to Gavin for his cursory treatment of her, nor had she examined her own behavior.

“Put on yer cloak, Lady Sara; ye ride with me today,” Gavin's voice called out from the foot of the wagon.

Sara looked over at Millie, her face stricken. Millie winked. “Ye'll catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, My Lady.”

Handing the milk drunk Elizabeth to Millie, Sara sighed and slid from the wagon. She never had understood that saying.
Why would anyone want to catch a fly?

Gavin enjoyed the feel of Sara's backside against his hands as he lifted her up unto his horse. Swinging his leg up and over the beast, Gavin pulled Sara back onto his lap, her legs off to the side. Despite his mixed feelings towards her, Gavin lusted for Sara with ever-growing intensity.

Slating his lust last night had only seemed to fan the fire within his gut. Having no privacy with Sara would surely drive him mad. Gavin cantered up a bit ahead of the group to give them solitude for speaking. Yet, he held his tongue for several long minutes, relishing the feel of her backside against his thighs. The smell of her skin in the morning reminded him of heather, when the dew still clung to its tiny leaves. It was all he could do not to nuzzle her neck, so close it swayed before his mouth.

How could he still ache for her so, knowing she could barely stand to be in the same space with him? Even now, she sat stiff, straight-backed on his lap, avoiding any unnecessary contact. As much as Gavin longed to break past her cold exterior, he refused to give in to her.

Gavin new Sara wanted him to concede to her wishes and annul Hannah's wedding contract with Sir David. Yet, as head of the household, he could do not such thing. The contract was in everyone's best interest, whether or not Sara understood. Besides, if he allowed her to sway him now, his position would be weakened throughout their marriage. Twas better to stand ground now, than fight an uphill battle later.

Thomas had laughed at him when he'd used that analogy the night before. “As long as ye see marriage as a battlefield, My Lord, thou wilt be taking casualties. I was married to my Ana for fourteen blessed years afore the plague took her. Marriage is nay a battle, My Lord, tis a yoke. Ye and yer lady wife are like two oxen, joined with a yoke. The more ye pull in opposite directions, the more the yoke chafes and weighs on ye both. I should know. Ana and I did nay choose to marry.

“Those first two years were a might rough, I'll tell ye true. Yet, when we started working as a team, our burdens became lighter, the work easier. After about eight years, we oft forgot the weight of the yoke, fore the ease with which is allowed us to carry our load together.

“That's all ye need, My Lord, a way of moving and working together. She is not yer soldier to order about and ye are not simply a knight, bound by some code of chivalry to cater to her every whim. Ye are a team, ye ken?”

As much as Gavin loathed being compared to a pair of oxen, the thought stuck with him. He had to find a way to work with Sara. Thus far, they had been looking after their individual goals, rather than forging a path together. That stopped today.

“Sara, I have decided to stop treating ye like a soldier and start treating ye more like a lady ox.”

Sara's head whipped around, and she squinted her emerald eyes at Gavin in wary confusion. “What I mean to say is, ye are my wife, not my soldier, and we must work together to carry our heavy load.”

“As much as I appreciate being elevated to the lofty status of 'lady ox', I am not so certain I follow yer reasoning, My Lord.”

Sara bit her tongue. Why was it so important to her to be clever with this man, rather than try to understand what he was saying? Didn't she want him to communicate with her? “What I meant to say, Gavin, is that I don't quite understand.”

Gavin grunted and continued. “If we are to run a household together, we must see it as a task that takes us both moving in the same direction. If ye pull one way and I pull t'other, we will stay in the same place, with only a kink in the neck to show for our troubles.”

Sara laughed, finally understanding the analogy. “So we are like two bull-headed oxen, is that it?”

“Aye,” Gavin chuckled, “we are.”

Sara sighed and leaned back against Gavin's chest. “Well, then, 'Lord Ox'. I do believe I am tired of this pain in my neck. Where shall we go from here?”

Sir Gavin's heart soared. Twas not an impossible task, taming this woman, he supposed. Wrapping his arm about her waist, he pulled her more tightly against him.

~

“I do nay feel safe bringing our wagons into the city,” Gavin pulled up short at the top of a rise. “T'would be near impossible to protect them amongst the teeming masses therein. I also have qualms about sleeping within the city's filth and disease.”

Sara nodded, feeling an uneasy churning in her stomach. “T'would it be possible to pay a local farmer to use his outbuildings and still sleep in our wagons?”

“I'll send Thomas to inquire about. We can always use one wagon to ride to Windsor, then leave the other with an inn keeper, I suppose.”

Sara shrugged, she knew nothing of city life and now that the visit to court was upon them, she hoped desperately that their encounter would be brief and uneventful.

Adventure was well and good in theory, but the reality was something else all together. She wanted her children to be safe and secure. By this time tomorrow, she hoped their future would be well protected. The king had the power to turn her entire world upside down, if he so chose. She prayed that he would be too caught up in this war with France to care two wits about the small country estate.

Thomas had returned within the hour, having bartered an agreement with a local inn keeper. “He says with court being in session, his inn is full, but he has an available out building we can use to store our horses and wagons. His price is steep, but fair, considering how much he could make, boarding horses in our stead.”

Gavin agreed, and they moved up the road.

The cock crowed the next morning, just as the small entourage pulled from the over-sized barn. They had all barely slept, in anticipation of the big day. It had not been a problem to rise and dress long before the break of day. Sensing everyone's ill ease, Elizabeth had been up half the night, insisting on nursing and snuggling with her mother.

Lady Sara feared there would be dark circles beneath her eyes, when she made her curtsy to the king.
Mayhap the great hall will be dimly li
t
, she smiled to herself. Els
e
wise, a poor showing I'll mak
e,
indee
d
.

Gavin and Sir David had both opted to wear the blue tunics for which Lord Sander's household was known. They had shined their boots and scabbards the night before. Knowing they would have to surrender their swords at the door, they also polished them until they glistened. Thomas and James would ride on the wagon bench and wait outside the castle gates, while the family entered on foot.

Twas uncommon for children to make an appearance at court, but Gavin knew that King Edward wanted to see the entire family for himself. Sara, Hannah, Elizabeth, and Sir David were his evidence of having fully claimed the land and title for himself. Without them, twas simply his word against that of Sir John's, and he could not trust that Jonathan Polk had not already reared his ugly head at court.

Once within the great gates, Sara looked about. Sir David and Gavin looked handsome in their plain, well-crafted tunics. She and Hannah had worn their best gowns, which, while made of fine fabric, were several years old. They looked plain, but serviceable, compared to the other ladies filing towards the large, open entrance.

Sara prayed that Elizabeth would stay silent and asleep for the duration of the visit. She willed herself to breath calmly and evenly, so that the babe did not awaken in distress.

“We are the third case on the king's agenda today,” Gavin reminded Sara for the fifteenth time. She nodded, understanding he was just as anxious as she.

“One man is a gentleman farmer and will take a short time. The other is a high-ranking official and may take much longer.”

Sara again nodded, familiar with the litany by now. “If ye must slip out with the bairn, I'll send Sir David to fetch ye, should our names be called.”

Twenty minutes later, a herald called their names and they were ushered into court. The wealth that surrounded them was dazzling, and Sara bit her inner lip, willing herself to stay focused, to not become overwhelmed.

The king's long face and tired demeanor terrified Sara. She could tell he suffered these proceedings, but his mind lay elsewhere.

“Sir Gavin Williams and Sir David Polk stand before his majesty to answer to his challenge over the title of Lord Sanders and the stewardship of Hampstead Manor.”

King Edward sat up a bit and leaned forward, his dark eyes sparkling with interest. “Sir David Polk, eh? And who are ye, in relation to Sir John?”

“I am his younger brother, my liege,” Sir David bowed low.

King Edward III nodded, his interest peeked. “Explain thyself, Sir Gavin. What evidence hast thou brought me of thy claim.”

Gavin beckoned, and Hannah and Sara stepped forward. “Yer Majesty, I present to thee the Lady Sara Sanders, my wife, her stepdaughter, the Lady Hannah Hartford, and her daughter, the Lady Elizabeth Hartford, now my wards.”

“So, ye gained entrance to, and sovereignty over the keep. Ye have married the Widow Sanders and taken over care of the late Lord Sanders' daughters?”

“Aye, yer Majesty.”

“I am pleased with this progress, Sir Gavin. Explain to me, then, why I have been presented with this Sir David Polk.”

“If it please yer Majesty, Sir David has pledged his fealty to me and is serving as my troop leader. He is also betrothed to the Lady Hannah, should this connection between the two families support His Majesty's interests in the region.”

King Edward sat back for a moment. “Is Lord Polk aware of this development?”

Sir David stepped forward again and bowed. “I had not the opportunity to meet with my father, yer Majesty, as I was busy working to regain my honor and establish closer ties with the new Lord Sanders. However, we have sent a messenger and expect he has been apprised of the development.”

“And what of this betrothal undermining thy elder brother's interests?” King Edward queried.

“I set out to help my brother gain the property. Once I was convinced that Sir Gavin had successfully gained sovereignty over the land and its people, I worked to arrange a connection that would be mutually beneficially to both families.”

“Thus excluding yer eldest brother from the opportunity?”

“My father has denied my brother's rights and inheritance, yer Majesty, owed to actions ill befitting a knight.”

Sir Edward nodded, not at all surprised by the revelation. “How answer thee, to such claims, Sir John?”

The court grew quietly expectant as Sir John walked up with a handful of men. “I consider Sir Gavin and my brother, Sir David, little more than usurpers, yer majesty.”