A Bit of Heaven on Earth (11 page)

And how he loved Elizabeth. She would be by shortly, having attended mass, broken her fast, and issued orders for the day to their staff. Pride filled him at all she accomplished on a daily basis, far more than any woman of his acquaintance. Theirs was not a physical love, one of grand passion. No, it favored affection, tender feelings, and good will. She was friend, daughter, and wife all captured in one.

He hoped arranging for her betrothal to Robert would please her after he was gone. Robert was a good man, and he was more than a little fond of Elizabeth, despite his protests to the contrary.

Aldred pushed himself up, propping pillows behind his back and smoothing his hair down. He looked forward to a visit from Gavin this morning. The boy worried him, a former shell of the man he’d been when Aldred last saw him. Obviously, the war in France had not been kind to Gavin.

He was troubled, too. Aldred sensed it in Gavin’s wary gaze, in the cock of his head. If not the war, ‘twould mean only one thing amiss.

Berwyn.

Aldred cursed the day Berwyn arrived upon his property. Physically gifted, he was a good soldier—when he bothered to listen. He had peas for brains, though. A good estate manager and sweet wife, along with years of decent weather, had allowed Berwyn’s estate to prosper.

What bothered Aldred was the man’s loose morals. He found neither honor nor loyalty in Berwyn of Ashgrove. Oh, the nobleman was sure he said the right things when certain ears were present, yet he was quick to speak ill of someone the minute that man’s back was turned. Only as a favor to Gillian had Aldred decided to take Gavin on to foster, hoping his influence on the boy might override that of his worthless father.

That proved to be a blessing in disguise. Gavin’s talents were limitless. Skilled at war games and a keen hunter, the young boy also showed unswerving fidelity to his liege and his friends. Guilt racked Aldred when Gavin had fostered at Kentwood because he’d grown to love the boy more than his own kin.

A knock sounded at the door, and Elizabeth poked her head in. She smiled as she brought him a tray of food.

“I trust you had a good night, my lord?” She opened all sides of the bed curtains and put the tray down upon his lap before going to feed fresh wood into the fire.

He immediately felt the warmth of the fire’s blaze and sighed in contentment. “Did you know you please me in every way, Wife?” he asked.

She laughed. “I would love to record your words, Aldred, for I fear you are most forgetful. I remember times when you have cautioned me for being too headstrong, too stubborn, blind to the—”

“Enough,” he protested, cutting her off as he pulled a piece of bread apart. “Mayhap there has been a time or two that you distressed me. Overall, though, you are tolerable. I suppose.” He grinned mischievously at her.

A knock at the open door interrupted their playful banter. He looked up and saw Gavin standing there hesitantly.

“Come in, Gavin, come in. I hope all is well? You are pleased with your room? Your bed?”

“Yes, my lord. Though I would have been happy with a pallet on the floor of the Great Hall, the luxury of a room has me feeling as if I were royalty. Everything is most splendid.”

Aldred watched Gavin step through the portal. He eyed Elizabeth unsurely and then turned his attention back to Aldred.

For his part, Aldred was amused. Elizabeth intimidated many a man. For all her youth and beauty, she was quite in charge of things. He sensed Gavin had discovered this and didn’t know what to make of her just yet.

“Come closer, Gavin. Closer,” he instructed. “I can’t hear quite as well as I once did.”

“At least that’s what he claims,” Elizabeth chimed in. “Although this hearing loss only seems to come about whenever I ask him to do something he wishes to avoid.”

Aldred chuckled. “She has found me out,” he whispered in Gavin’s direction before taking his wife’s hand and smiling benignly at her.

She dropped his hand. “You, my lord, are impossible. Now break your fast and stop all this quibbling. I have much work to do.”

Elizabeth turned to Gavin. “See that he eats, and please do not tire him.” She gave a mock glare to Aldred and left the room.

“See what I must put up with?” he asked and sighed. “Now pull up a chair, Gavin. We have much to discuss.”

“As long as you eat what ‘tis before you,” Gavin said as he brought a chair beside the bed. “I would not want your wife to think less of me than she does.”

“Elizabeth? Oh, she’ll adore you once she gets to know you. You did not meet under ideal circumstances. She is rather like a mama bear protecting her fragile cub, as far as I am concerned. But ‘tis neither here nor there.”

He picked up a slice of cheese to nibble on. “So now, my friend. What brings you to Kentwood? Your countenance is a troubled one. You are as thin as a lad of four and ten. What ails you, Gavin? ‘Tis it the war in France? Or has Berwyn been up to no good?”

Gavin visibly shuddered at the mention of his father’s name. So he’d been right in thinking this unease that sat upon the lad’s shoulders had to do with that fool Berwyn.

The knight pushed his hands through his hair, frustrated at where to begin. He sat back in his chair and fidgeted as a boy might. Then the little cat that seemed to be a part of him peeked its head from within the sack it rode in. It used its claws to scamper up Gavin’s chest and placed both paws on its master’s shoulders.

Aldred heard a loud purr as it licked Gavin’s chin and proceeded to bump its nose against Gavin’s own nose. With a fond smile, he unhooked the cat’s claws from his clothing and settled the gray fur ball against him, stroking it as he began to speak.

“I’ve come to you in need of a favor, my lord,” he began.

“’Tis yours to ask, Gavin. You know I shall grant you anything within my power.”

“I am at a crossroads in my life. War no longer appeals to me.” A dark shadow crossed his face. Aldred’s stomach tightened in response.

“What happened in France, my boy?” he asked softly.

Gavin recounted his and Robert’s capture and their first weeks in confinement. Aldred had heard all this before from Robert himself but chose to keep silent, wishing to hear the tale from Gavin’s lips. Nothing varied from the account Robert gave when he returned from being ransomed.

“And after Robert left?” Aldred prodded. “I know word reached Baywith first, and he immediately sent the ransom for his son’s release. How long before the French received Berwyn’s response?”

Gavin’s face grew colorless as he spoke. “A fortnight after Robert’s release, I received a letter with my . . . with Berwyn’s seal upon it. In it, he refused to pay the ransom. He wrote . . . ”

Gavin’s voice faltered, and he rested his head in his hands. The cat jumped to the floor and curled up at its master’s feet. Aldred waited, knowing what Gavin would say must be painful indeed.

“It said to do with the prisoner as they liked.” His head rose, and he met Aldred’s eyes with all the bleakness of a winter’s day.

Yet the shock of his words weren’t nearly as strong as what Aldred saw in an instant. He’d never been one for vanity and rarely gave his looks a second thought for a majority of his life. He did know women often spent time fussing over their appearance so he’d gifted Elizabeth with a mirror, which seemed to please her.

But he himself eventually became fascinated with the image it displayed. As time passed, he looked often into this mirror, studying what he saw before him. He wondered why men followed him, did whatever he asked without question. He’d wanted to see what was in his face that would cause a man to place himself in peril at the mere request of another man.

And now he knew.

The eyes alone would give it away if no other feature did. Gavin’s eyes were his own, a deep brown edged in amber. ‘Twere eyes he’d never seen in another, only in the mirror, and now in Gavin himself. His frame, the sensual lips, the very shape of the fingers on his hands—all told the tale.

Aldred cursed himself silently. Why had he not realized it years ago when the boy had fostered under him? He lived under this very roof for so long. No wonder they’d always gotten along so well. Gavin was
his son
. A mistake he’d made long ago, comforting a troubled young girl, now came back to haunt him.

That girl hadn’t wished to marry Berwyn. Aldred could well understand why. The solace he sought to give her turned into something much, much more, and for seven magical nights they coupled, loving purely and sweetly before her wedding.

The result of their lovemaking now sat before him. Gavin was the fruit of their time spent together. Aldred never dreamt a child had been made. He had never seen himself in the young boy that came to foster with him so many years ago.

And now that boy was a man, lost and alone.

He amazed himself by finding his voice. “Did you suffer much?”

“Aye.” The word came out softly and hung in the air. Gavin drew in a long breath and exhaled it slowly. “‘Twas two years at the hands of those bastards. Two long, long years. Spent in fear and loneliness and pain. I have scars on my back that will never heal. I lost the hearing in my left ear.”

He stood now and began to pace as he continued his tale, the cat following on his heels. “I escaped through the help of a dying priest and made my way home. Home,” he repeated softly, and Aldred heard the bitterness in Gavin’s voice.

“How did Berwyn explain his actions to you?”

Gavin spun around. “With a sword pointed at my heart. He told me my mother had been a whore and that I was not of his blood.” A tear coursed down Gavin’s cheek. “I hadn’t even known she’d passed away,” he whispered. “What kept me going was knowing how much she loved me. And I never had a chance to say goodbye.”

He brought himself up to his full height and returned to his chair. The cat sprang into his lap and curled up into a ball. “I do not wish your pity, my lord. Far from it. I wish simply to be useful. To learn to make my way in the world without land or fortune.”

Gavin’s mouth turned down. “I find I have no taste for war, so I no longer wish to return to France. That could change, of course. ‘Tis not fear of battle I find within me, only a loathing to return to French soil so quickly.”

Aldred composed himself. “I well understand that, Gavin. How may I aid you?”

Gavin looked him squarely in the eye. “I would ask that you allow me to serve in your guard. I would consider it an honor. If you have no room for me, I would gladly ask the same of Robert’s father, though I’ve never met him.

“Or,” Gavin continued, a steely determination coming over him, “I know that you are close to King Edward. If you think there’s an inkling of a chance for me to be of service to the king in his royal guard, I would be most grateful if you could request an audience for me to plead my cause.”

Aldred’s heart grew heavy. His own flesh and blood had suffered so, first at the hands of the French and then Berwyn. He wanted to run a sword through the man, so great was his anger at Berwyn’s betrayal. Yet he must keep his head.

“I would be selfish, Gavin, and ask that you stay here as captain of my guard until my death. ‘Twill be before the year’s out, I suppose, despite all Elizabeth’s ministrations. I most certainly will send word to Edward, however, and after I am gone, I’m sure your situation will fast improve.”

Aldred decided to write the king that very day. He now had a worthy heir to Kentwood.

And a husband for his Elizabeth.

CHAPTER 12

Aldred thought carefully as he composed each line of the letter to Edward. Though he respected his monarch, the king threw constant, heated tantrums, much as a small child who didn’t get a treat. He did not want a single word to offend the ruler, thus ruining his case for Gavin inheriting Kentwood.

He’d spent most of the morning weighing the decision. The conclusion seemed obvious. Neither Elizabeth nor Gavin would be told of his plans. If he worded his request well, he knew in his heart Edward would grant it.

He hoped it would cause no bitterness between Gavin and Robert, but it was a chance he was willing to risk. His promise to Robert of Elizabeth’s hand in marriage after his death had been sincere, but the circumstances had changed so rapidly. They altered the decision he’d made before.

As much as he enjoyed Robert’s company and thought well of him, Aldred knew Elizabeth and Kentwood must be for Gavin. His son was the one man who could be her true equal. He would match her in both wit and intelligence. He would provide her with the challenges she so dearly loved. Gavin also had a sweetness of spirit about him, which would do well for Elizabeth coming to their marital bed as a virgin.

More importantly, Elizabeth would remain at Kentwood. She loved the place as much as Aldred himself. She saw to its day to day running and planned well in advance for every foreseeable problem down the road. She would relish remaining at her home, albeit it in a diminished capacity. If Gavin were as intelligent as Aldred gave him credit for, he’d make good use of the knowledge Elizabeth had accumulated in the last decade residing at Kentwood.

If not, he would be making a mistake. Aldred saw it a correctable one. He trusted Elizabeth had enough love in her heart for Kentwood and a good man, once she was placed in that position.

A tap on the door caused him to turn in that direction. The simple movement brought a pain to his side.

“Come.” He put on a cheerful countenance as his wife sailed through the portal.

She stopped in her tracks. “Might I ask why you are not resting? And why you are attempting to write something? You know how easily you tire, Husband, and how your eyesight is strained when you read.”

He smiled and motioned for her to come closer as he signed his work of the past hour. “’Tis a letter I write, to King Edward.” He folded it and drizzled wax upon it, grateful she hadn’t seen its contents.

Elizabeth placed a hand upon his shoulder. “I have aided you with correspondence many times. Cedd, too. Can we not make ourselves useful?” She reached across and lifted his signet ring from where it sat upon the table and pressed it into the warm wax.