Archangel (43 page)

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Authors: Kathryn Le Veque

BOOK: Archangel
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Her smile turned genuine as she stepped into the room.  Gart took her hand immediately, kissing it sweetly and tucking it into the crook of his elbow.  As he pulled her deeper into the room, he pulled her towards the seated priest.  As the fire in the hearth crackled softly, he faced off against Jonas.

“This,” he said pointedy,”is the Lady Emberley de Moyon.  This is what I am fighting for, priest.  Know that even though you failed in your attempt to aid us, I will find another way.  There is always another way.  I will not stop until I have her or I will die trying.”

Emberley’s wide eyes moved between Gart and the priest. At his last few words, she looked rather ill.

“Gart?” she whispered. “What has happened?”

Gart wouldn’t look at her; his intense green eyes were focused on the priest. He suddenly let go of Emberley’s hand, putting his big palms on her face as if to frame it.

“Look at her,” he growled at Jonas. “Look at this face. It is the most beautiful face you have ever seen.  Can you look her in the eye and tell her that you will send her back to the husband that beats and humiliates her? Can you tell her that the Church holds no sympathy for her because she is the property of a monster?”

By this time, Emberley was tearing up.  Her big eyes were gazing at Gart, seeing a side of him she had never seen before. He was bitter and brutal. Even though it was not directed at her, still, it was disturbing.

Jonas’ gaze was on the lady as she looked apprehensively at Gart.  She was an exquisite woman, no doubt. He’d never seen finer. He couldn’t imagine a man taking his fists to such a fragile creature.  After a moment, he simply shook his his head.

“Let her go,” he told Gart with gruff gentleness, reaching up to take the lady’s hand himself. “Sit down, my lady. We must speak. Gart, go stand over there somewhere. Leave us alone for a moment.”

Emberley allowed the priest to pull her down into a chair opposite him.  He was an older man with a kind face but she was still apprehensive. She knew that Gart was right behind her because she could feel him, like always. She always knew when he was near whether or not she could see him.  With anticipation, she sat before the priest, focused intently on him.

Jonas smiled at her, trying to settle the mood down after Gart’s outburst.

“I am Father Jonas,” he said politely. “My church is St. Bartholomew. Have you heard of it?”

Emberley shook her head. “I am sorry, I have not.”

Jonas sat forward, holding her hand. “Did Gart tell you what he has asked of me?”

She nodded hesitantly. “He did.”

“What do you think about it?”

She paused, many different thoughts rolling through her head. She suspected he was looking for a righteous answer but she found that she could not give him one.  She stared at his hand as it held hers, formulating her thoughts.

“I was raised by parents who were very devout,” she began slowly, softly. “I have always believed in God and the laws of the Church. When Julian and I were first introduced, he seemed kind and attentive. He can be quite charming when he wants to be. I was sure I had married a man who was kind and respectful.  But on our wedding night, he became ragingly drunk and raped me for most of the night. When he was not raping me, he was beating me.”

She looked up from her hands to see Jonas’ serious expression.  She knew that Gart was behind her, supporting her, and it fed her courage.  She cleared her throat softly and continued.

“When I became pregnant with Romney, he told me that he would kill me if it was not a boy,” she said. “When Romney was born, I wept with relief because I was sure he would have carried out his threat.  I was pregnant again soon after Romney’s birth but when I was about five months with child, he pushed me down a flight of stairs and killed the child. He blamed me for the death, of course, and took me out into the countryside where he dumped me in a grove of trees and left me to die.  I lay there a day and night, in the rain, until he returned for me. Then I lay ill for months with an infection in my chest that nearly killed me.  And all of this was only the first two years we were married.”

She could feel Gart’s hand on her shoulder, strong and steady, and she turned to see that he had tears in his eyes.  She smiled faintly, patting his hand gently, before returning to the priest.

“I suppose the point I will make is that although I believe in God, I surely believe in the Devil because I am married to him,” she squeezed the priest’s hand. “If you return me to Julian, I have no doubt that he will kill me. I must get away from him anyway I can, even if it is by means of a divorce. I think that you are a saint for trying to help me and I think Gart is a saint for asking you to do it. He has been my angel and I love him more than anything else on this earth.”

Jonas listened to her story with a heavy heart.  He sighed heavily and let go of her hand, sitting back in his chair to contemplate her story.  He rubbed at his chin as if the gesture helped him to sort through this mess.

“I was unable to execute our plan,” he said. “But in speaking with you, I can say with truth that I no longer have any reserve about the rightness of a divorce from your husband.  If even half of what you say is true, then your husband is a beast. But that unfortunately does not change the fact that he is your husband and by rights can do as he pleases with you.  I am sorry if that is something you do not want to hear but it is the truth.”

The calm expression on Emberley’s face vanished.  She bolted out of the seat, stumbling, her gaze searching for Gart. He was already heading for her, moving out of the shadows with his arms outstretched. She collapsed in the safety of his embrace.

“I will not go back to him,” she hissed.

Gart held her tightly, his gaze moving between Christopher and David and the priest.

“You will not,” he said firmly. “I will not allow it.”

David, having remained largely silent through the exchange, spoke from his chair near the hearth.

“You worry overly,” he told them. “Just because the priest could not tell Isabella to force Buckland into a divorce does not mean that hope is lost. It simply means that we will have to try another avenue.”

Jonas could see how upset the lady was. Truth was that he didn’t blame her. But facts were facts and he was struggling to think of another avenue to follow, something that would end the lady’s suffering as well as her marriage.  More than that, he could see in just the few minutes he had spent with Gart and Emberley how much they loved one another.  There was genuine concern and adoration between them, and he felt a great deal of pity for them both.

“If de Moyon cannot be convinced to divorce his wife, then what?” Jonas asked.

Gart held Emberley against his chest, his enormous hand on her blond head as he cradled it against his sternum.  His intense gaze was even more powerful than usual.

“I will take her and the children and we will flee,” he said in a low voice. “We will go someplace safe where no one can find us, least of all Buckland. I will never let her go back to him, not ever.”

In the darkness, David and Christopher passed long glances. Gart served David and was essentially telling the man that he would recant his oath and run, with or without his liege’s approval. David had known that from the beginning, however, and wasn’t particularly upset by it.  But he was silently begging his brother for his wisdom in the matter.  Christopher knew this, avoiding his brother’s pleading gaze until he could avoid it no longer.  He sighed heavily, putting his thoughts into words.  These thoughts were coming from the heart more than his head.

“When I was in The Levant with Richard, I took a different route home than our king,” his voice was barely above a whisper. “My army passed through many different countries and kingdoms and when we were in a particular area called Burgenland, we happened upon a castle under siege.  At first we attempted to give the siege a wide berth, but a panicked priest begged for our aid so I complied.  It would seem that we aided the Lord of Lockenhaus Castle,
or Burg Lockenhaus
as they called it, and the lord was so grateful that upon his death, he willed the castle to me.  It is still mine, with a contingent of soldiers to man it because it sits at the head of a well-traveled valley with mountains as tall as the sky. “

By this time, Emberley had stopped weeping and was listening to the earl intently. Christopher held her gaze as he moved away from the door and into the heart of the room, his focus serious.

“I have no doubt that what you have told us is true, my lady,” he said quietly. “Your young son told me essentially the same story. I cannot imagine the hell you have endured at the hands of the man who is supposed to protect you.  Because I have a wife I adore, I can understand Gart’s feelings for you, right or wrong, and will therefore make you this pledge – if Buckland cannot be convinced to divorce you by proper means, then I will send you and Gart to Lockenhaus Castle where you may live your lives free of Buckland’s horror. He will never find you there.  But the caveat is that Gart will continue to serve me, as my garrison commander. Will this be acceptable?”

Emberley stared at the man in shock.  “Ac… acceptable, my lord? Are you serious?”

“Or course.”

After a moment of stunned silence, Emberley pulled herself free of Gart’s embrace and went to the earl, gently grasping one of his enormous hands.  The look in her eye was beyond the scope of words.  It was thanks beyond measure. 

“My husband often spoke of you with ill-favor, my lord, stating that he believed you were Richard’s trained dog, now forced to do tricks for a new master because John sat upon the throne,” she said softly. “It was all I knew of you until yesterday.  Now I see that you are a kind and generous man beyond compare, with compassion and understanding that most men do not have. Even as I stand here, I consider myself extremely fortunate to have met you.  My thanks is not sufficient for what you have proposed, but please know that you have my undying gratitude.”

Christopher smiled faintly at the woman, seeing why Gart loved her so.  She was sweet, gentle and gracious.  It made him that much more protective over her and her son, more determined than ever to see them to safety with Gart.

  Finally, the tides had turned and he was no longer resistant to their quest. Now he was on their side. Christopher squeezed her hand gently before turning to the priest.

“You will seek out Buckland and offer a proposal,” he told him. “If he will divorce his wife, I will provide compensation of ten thousand gold marks and Ryton Castle in Worcestershire.  Tell him that this offer is non-negotiable and if he does not comply, I will make his life hell until the day he dies. Is this in any way unclear? “

Wide-eyed, Jonas rose from his chair. “It is clear, my lord,” he replied. “You will pay the man to divorce his wife?”

“I will compensate him for his loss.”

“On what grounds will he base the divorce?”

Christopher looked at the stunned Emberley and the equally stunned Gart. “Adultery,” he said softly. Then he shrugged. “The Church would not contest such a thing.”

After a long and tense moment, Jonas nodded his head sharply in agreement. With nothing more to be said, David moved out of the shadows, hastily taking the priest by the arm and escorting the man to the door.  Jonas passed by Emberley on his way out and his dark eyes fixed on her.

“I will do my best, my lady,” he assured her softly.  “Have faith that God understands your plight. He will not fail you.”

Emberley nodded to his statement, watching the man quit the room with David on his heels.  As she stood there with tears in her eyes, saying a thousand silent prayers of thanks to a God that had never particularly listened to her, Gart went over to Christopher.

His handsome face was soft with humility and gratitude. “My lord,” he began quietly. “What you have offered for the lady’s divorce… I do not have the means to compensate you, but rest assured that I will. I will pay you back every pense.”

Christopher was feeling exhausted, satisfied, pleased that he could assist.  He clapped Gart on the shoulder.

“The day you saved my brother’s life was the day I became indebted to you,” he said softly. “No price is too high to pay, Gart, and certainly not ten thousand marks and a broken down castle. You have proved your worth a thousand times over and I am happy to pay you back in any way I can.”

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