Angie Arms - Flames series 04 (2 page)

“I…I,” the man clamped his mouth shut
. knowing his stammering was not improving his plight.

“There are 25 in the immediate household,” a female voice said from behind him.  He swung quickly to see
the most pregnant woman he had ever seen.  “With the current harvest of potatoes it will take two per person, which means one man can dig that in a reasonable amount of time."

He stared at the pregnant woman, pleased that someone here
knew what was going on.

“Of course,” the steward chimed in.  “I told her to release two of those
, which is why I was unsure of the number.”

Halvor swung back to the steward.  “Who is this woman that does your job for you?”

The man was suddenly speechless he noted irritably.  He turned back to the woman who tilted her head in a way that spoke of defiance.

“I am Lady Jillian,” she replied
, offering a bow that would have been quite humorous with her rounded belly hampering her movements, if Halvor was not shocked speechless.  No one warned him his soon to be bride was carrying her first husband’s child.  By the looks of it, she would be giving birth any moment.  She looked pale and extremely afraid, if her trembles were any indication.  It did not surprise him she gave no indication she recognized him.

“How many horses are in my stable?” Halvor asked
, glancing to the steward.

The man’s face contorted in
panicked confusion.  He scowled at the man, before turning back to the Lady.

“There are 37,” she supplied
, her voice quivering nervously.

“What is your job here?” Halvor asked
, angrily turning to the steward.

“I am the steward.  My duties are so vast I don’t bother myself with trivial matters of the household.”

“Does he speak the truth?”

Halvor never took his eyes from the steward
, so did not mistake the threat that clearly crossed his face.

“He does busy himself with other concerns,” Lady Jillian replied
diplomatically.

He knew well the kind of man Bruce was.  The only thing good that could be said of the man upon his death
, was he was a good fighter.  Halvor did not want the same at the time of his own death.  This is why he was here, to have a wife and children, and a home to pass on to them.  But here the mother of his children stood, ready to give birth to another man’s child.  It was enough to make him see red, but to know his bride not only lived in fear of her late husband, but this man as well, made him want to shed his blood.  It was apparent the steward was cut from the same cloth as Bruce.

“To whom are you loyal Lady Jillian?” Halvor asked
, turning toward the woman and drawing his sword.

Her brown eyes widened
, and a protective hand came up to rest on her abdomen.  “To the King and Lord Garrick,” she stammered.  “I thought that went without saying.  I married Bruce, I carry his child, and now I am to marry you, all because they have decreed this is what I must do to remain in my home.”

“I mean, Lady,” he said
, advancing to stand over her.  He looked down on her auburn head that glowed in the morning light coming through the windows high on the walls.  She had to tilt her head back to look up at him, and he saw the frightened child fed to the wolves so many years before.  “Do you lie for your steward, or do you tell your husband the truth?”

  
He watched her swallow, and blocked her view of the man who seemed to frighten her more than him.  “I will tell you the truth,” her voice quaked.

“Who performs the bulk of the
steward’s duties?”

The brown eyes he noticed now that he stood close to her
, were a light brown, but the charcoal ring around the outer edge darkened them, and the full dark lashes that surrounded her eyes, darkened them even more.  But now as she looked up at him with so much fear, he felt himself scowl, if Bruce wasn't dead, Halvor would drive his sword through him to the hilt.  “I do.”

“If you wish to see another day,” he said
, his anger leashed like a beast and he saw the horror cross Jillian’s face when she read it, and thought it was directed at her.  He turned quickly to the steward, and watched the color drain from his already pale face.  “You will leave Hawknest with all due haste,” he continued.  “If I ever lay eyes on you again I will kill you.”

The man just stood there like some kind of drooling idiot
, his mouth hanging slack, and he had that look about himself that made Halvor believe if he said “boo" to the man, he would piss all over himself.

“With all due haste means leave my sight now,” he bellowed.  The
man made to bow, but halfway there, thought better of it, and turning fled.

He turned back to Lady Jillian
, and she looked relieved, and then immediately her guard went up and her chin raised a notch.  He saw an emotion flash across her face, but it was quickly hidden before he could analyze it.  With a husband like Bruce, she would have learned quite well how to keep her thoughts to herself, how to keep them hidden.  Halvor did not much like it, but there was nothing he could do to change it, other than give her time. 

He looked over the woman that would be his wife.  She couldn’t get any more pregnant.  He couldn’t believe she
was standing in front of him.  She should be in bed, and he said as much.

“Perhaps I would be in bed if I did not have to meet my new husband at dawn,” she snapped. 
Her eyes darted to his hands still confined in his gauntlets, then back to his face that still held shadows from his helm.  She blanched and clamped her lips together, only to open them again to ask, “Would you like some ale my lord?” she asked, moving past him toward the trestle table.  Waddled was more relevant a term for her gate.  “We will discuss your holdings.”

“We will have food, my men are hungry,” he said
, turning to follow.

Lady Jillian
was close to the bench, but veered in a different direction.  “I will see to that.”

“
Sit,” he ordered, his voice stopped her in her tracks, and he watched her back stiffen.  He was angry that she would be going back and forth in her advanced condition.  Is this how she would act carrying his child?  She cast a quick glance in his direction, and again there was some emotion there.  Anger?  Disdain?  He felt his irritation return, because her only emotion he could read was fear, and he already knew that was forced upon her over the years.

The Lady turned back to the bench
, and began settling herself on it, in a very unladylike fashion.

“God have mercy,” he said
impatiently, as he waited behind her.  He began to reach for her, but she cast such a withering glance back at him, he took a step away and allowed her the time to settle herself, before taking a seat beside her.

He marveled at the difference in this woman from the small slip of a girl she was when first
wed to Bruce.  When Bruce was granted Jillian and her property Halvor had come with him to meet his bride, and share in the wedding celebration.  It turned into a brutal nightmare for the bride, and the next day Halvor left quietly.  But he never forgot the frightened girl or her tears, and the fear Bruce brought out in her.  Until the man's wedding, Halvor considered him a friend.  But never would Halvor align himself with a man as heartless to a defenseless woman as Bruce was to his new bride.  If he stayed he would have to become Lady Jillian's champion, which would get Halvor thrown in a dungeon, beheaded, or a number of things in between.  Despite having no claim to Jillian, the guilt ate at him through the years because he left the girl to her fate, with no one to protect her.  Not that anyone could protect her from her husband, for a husband was all powerful over his wife.  Which was why he requested the Lady Jillian be wed to him upon Bruce's death, instead of some other heartless man.  He had visions of riding into the keep, taking over easily, even with some gratitude sent his way, for he was kind to her the short time he was at Hawknest.  But it was obvious Jillian did not remember him trying to block the knights from seeing upon the dais, as Bruce took her virginity, or that he carried her back to her chamber and mended her as best he could before leaving.

He decided it was best not to mention his presence at her deflowering
, or that he already saw her naked, had already touched her, knew what her soft skin felt like under his touch.  How he wanted to kill Bruce for what he did to the child, not even a woman yet.  But now it was a woman he sat beside.  Although he detected the power of her fear, he also saw something else, her bravery and resilience.  She survived, and she did not know it yet, but he would do all he could so she would never feel the pain of a fist against her head, or the humiliation of her husband taking her whenever or wherever the urge hit him. 

~   ~   ~

It was well passed midday when she finished apprising her soon to be new husband of his land, servants, and other holdings.  She felt exhausted, her back ached from sitting on the bench, her legs had little feeling in them, and the food she watched Halvor eat was enough to make her feel queasy again. 

After she
settled onto the bench Halvor sat beside her, his size frightened her and his heat made the sweat trickle down her back.  He removed his gauntlets and she couldn’t help the stare that dried out her throat, as she gazed at the size of his hands.  He used those huge hands to lay his gauntlets just so on the table, before lifting them to his helm and pulling it from his head.  He then pulled the hood of his chain mail from his head, and turned to her.

She stared at her new husband’s face for the first time.  It was a strong face,
chiseled from granite as he looked down at her.  His eyes were hazel, not quite any color, and she suspected they changed with the predominate color of his surroundings and clothing.  Despite their appealing color, they were bottomless voids as he looked at her.  He was handsome, his dark brown hair was plastered to his forehead, and tufted out in other places, giving this hardened man a look of boyishness.  He was by all rights handsome, if only there was some warmth to be found there she might be able to accept her fate a little better, but there was none.  She pleaded with the Lord to make him kind, if not to her, than to her people.  The truth was she was tired.  Jillian was tired of the worry and constant work that went into looking after her people alone, while doing everything in her power to please her husband so as not to feel his rage.  She stared at this man beside her, hoping beyond hope that this man would give her some relief.

As if in response the baby kicked and
a slight pain followed.  She touched a hand to the mound of her stomach, wincing slightly.   Halvor saw, and scowled down at her. 

“Do you carry Bruce’s child?” he asked.

Anger shot through her at the question, and if it had been possible, she would have jumped up from the bench, but she had not been able to jump for at least a month.  Instead, her eyebrows snapped together and her eyes narrowed on him.  “How dare you,” she spat out, barely above a whisper.  “I have known no other man’s touch but the vile touch of my husband, and you question my faithfulness.”

His remarkable eyes darkened as he frowned
down at her.

“You consider your husband’s touch to be vile, why then do you carry his child?  It seems you may have found yourself a man’s touch that did not drive you away.” 
She looked up at this man with the darkening eyes, and saw an anger toward her that gave her hope.

“Regardless of how brutal my husband was
, I was his, and my people still my people.”

He stared at her, allowing his gaze to travel slowly over her from the tip of her head to the enormous mountain that was her stomach.  As he looked upon that mountain
, the child gave a mighty kick and she saw he too saw this.  His face took on a look of awe, and the emptiness was gone as he raised them to meet hers.  “Was that the babe?” he asked, his eyes darting back to her stomach.

She
nodded, but he paid her no heed as he stared, waiting for another movement.  When she reached for his hand he did not jerk away from her.  That was another thing she hated about Bruce, she could never touch him.  If she tried he drew away, as if she would burn him, and sometimes, he returned the favor by hitting her.  At least this man did not fear her touch.  She offered Halvor a smile and a reassuring nod of her head, before drawing it across his lap and placing the palm flat against her stomach.  He stared down at their two hands intertwined, waiting, while she studied her husband’s face.  When the baby gave another mighty kick, she saw the corners of his mouth turn upward and she could not help the giggle that escaped.  She quickly ended it, for Bruce thought each time he heard her laughter, it was her laughing at him, which would warrant at least one blow.  But the smile remained on Halvor’s lips and Jillian had the insane hope that she would be able to laugh and smile again.

“Does this not hurt you?”

“Not when he kicks that way.  He can kick other places and it hurts, but nothing unbearable.”  She wanted to tell him nothing like the pain of giving birth to a child that never breathed, but she cared not to ruin the moment.