Julie Garwood - [3 Book Box Set] (34 page)

Elizabeth knew when her grandfather was in one of his stubborn moods. It was the set of his jaw and his tone of voice that now told her she had best do as he requested, else she would sit at the table long into the night. As quickly as possible she recited the happening, including the information about killing the enemy with her arrows—a fact that drew a wide smile from her grandfather, she noticed—and ending the tale with her husband’s most unsatisfactory reaction to her deed. “I thought he would be pleased with my help, but he was not.”

“Tell me what he did,” Elslow persisted. Now he was the one drumming his fingers on the tabletop, his impatience with his granddaughter obvious.

“I do not know what you seek,” Elizabeth protested. “He was angry and yelled, of course—he always yells at me—and he would not let me explain my motives.”

“You miss my question, child,” Elslow stated, his tone gentle. He could see that the conversation upset her, but he felt he must continue. Picking his words carefully, he said, “Did he pull you from the water by
your hair? Did he throw you to the ground and kick you?”

Elizabeth gasped at his outrageous questions. “He would never hurt me. You know that, Grandfather, you know he is honorable and—”

Elslow’s slow smile stopped her tirade. “Paint what happened in your mind again and tell me each detail, from the time you were in the water.”

“You insist?” Elizabeth asked, not wishing to comply.

“I do!”

“Very well. He pulled me from the water, but not by my hair,” she said, shaking her head, “at least I think he pulled me from the water, and then, in front of his men, he began to shake me, so hard I thought my teeth would come loose. It was so embarrassing in front of his men, the way he shook me,” she said with renewed irritation.

“Continue,” Elslow encouraged.

“And then he . . . ” Elizabeth’s eyes widened with astonishment as memory took over. Ever so slowly the frown left her face, and a sparkle of hope entered her gaze.

Elslow witnessed it and sighed. His granddaughter was coming to her senses. “He what?” Elslow asked, trying hard not to laugh.

“Why, he pulled me to him and embraced me. It is true. I was crying so that I could not hear what he was saying.” Elizabeth grabbed Elslow’s hand and began to smile. “God’s truth, he treated me like a rag doll, Grandfather. First he would shake me, and then he would hug me, and then he would repeat the ordeal again and again. It was as if he could not make up his mind over the matter.”

“Aye, that is how Roger recounted it,” Elslow confirmed, grinning. “Now,” he added, his voice firm, “I just heard you call him unbending, unreasonable, and uncaring.”

“I have,” Elizabeth admitted. “I
would
be honest,” she explained.

“With everyone but yourself,” Elslow amended. “I will not question you further, Elizabeth. You will begin to use your head now and find your own solutions.”

“Tell me your thoughts,” Elizabeth begged.

“My thoughts are insignificant,” Elslow hedged. The look of disappointment softened his resolve. “Very well. To me, it is all quite simple. The man loves you, whether he wishes to or not.”

“If what you say is true,” Elizabeth answered, “then there is still one problem.”

“Aye?”

“He does not know it . . . yet.”

“Then it will be your duty to instruct him,” Elslow stated with a sparkle in his eyes.

The game of chess continued, but Elizabeth could not concentrate on what she was doing. Her mind was busy trying to think of a plan of action in dealing with her husband, and it took her full effort.

“Grandfather?” she interrupted at one point. “Geoffrey thinks I have been disloyal to him, and I do not know how to change his way of thinking,” she admitted.

“In time his attitude will soften. Your motives were pure, child, and he will surely realize that soon enough,” her grandfather answered as he studied the board.

Elizabeth considered her grandfather’s words and then interrupted his concentration again. “You have always taught me to form a plan before making a change. I have considered that I could—”

“Do not tell me your intentions,” Elslow stated. “I would remain innocent of your deceptions.”

“Deceptions! You shame me, Grandfather. I will deal with my husband with honor. Always,” she stated with emphasis. “If Geoffrey truly loves me, then what I plan will be most honorable.”

“Checkmate!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The game, Elizabeth. I have won.”

“Nay, Grandfather,” Elizabeth denied with a smile. “It is I who has won.”

“What say you? I have your queen, and your king cannot move. The game is mine.”

“Aye, that is true,” Elizabeth conceded with a nod. “The game is yours . . . but the knight is mine.”

While Geoffrey was gone from Montwright, Elizabeth prepared her belongings for transfer to her husband’s home. It was a most difficult task. Each morning, upon awakening, Elizabeth would fight waves of nausea. Bile would push for release, and more often than not, her contrary stomach would have its way. Elizabeth found herself eating less and less, thinking to purge the poison that had mysteriously found its way into her stomach, and rested several times during the day in an effort to gain new strength.

She dared not wear the ring of garlic around her neck as a safeguard, for she wanted to hide her sickness from her grandfather. She had no wish to cause him worry, but she could not help becoming concerned. The sickness was strange indeed, for after each morning’s battle with her stomach, she would suddenly find herself feeling quite normal. Until nighttime, when the battle would be resumed.

She blamed her upset on the fact that Geoffrey was gone. Love was playing havoc with her body as well as her mind, she concluded. Yet, when Geoffrey returned to Montwright some seven days later, Elizabeth’s condition did not improve. Her husband was too busy with his preparations for departure to give Elizabeth much notice. Elizabeth found herself both pleased and disgruntled by her husband’s lack of attention. It was soon obvious that he was avoiding her, obvious even to the most dim-witted. He would come to bed long after
Elizabeth had fallen asleep, and be gone before Elizabeth opened her eyes in the morning.

Elizabeth maintained an outward calm while her stomach continued its war, gaining new strength each time her grandfather would gift her with a wink or a smile. Each nod, each smile was a reminder of their conversation . . . an acknowledgment that her husband did love her.

Lord but he was stubborn! Why, he was still so angry with her that he barely glanced her way whenever they were in the same room. And he did not touch her, not since his return. Her heart pained her as much as her stomach when she realized how much she longed for his kiss, his embrace, his love.

Elizabeth found herself struggling for control on the morning she and Geoffrey were to leave for his home. It was unusually hot for early summer and Elizabeth was feeling quite melancholy as she made her good-byes. She knew her husband would not be pleased if she became overly emotional, and she kept reminding herself of that fact as she tickled and hugged her little brother and then turned to her grandfather. “I will miss you,” she told him in a whisper.

“Did you remember to pack your banner?” her grandfather asked. “A small remembrance of your past will help you deal with the uncertainty of the future.”

“I did remember,” Elizabeth replied. “I love you, Grandfather. God protect you and Thomas.”

Her grandfather embraced her in a powerful hug and then lifted her onto her mare. “You have been through much in these past months, child,” Elslow stated in a soft voice. He took hold of her hand and squeezed it. “But you are made of strong stuff. It is God’s will that you follow your destiny and your husband. The two are entwined, just like the vines that cling to the castle walls. Be not afraid, Elizabeth. And remember, trust your heart but use your head.”

Elizabeth smiled at her grandfather’s confusing order and replied, “I will do my best.”

Geoffrey observed the farewell between grandfather and granddaughter from the steps of Montwright. He was proud of his wife, knowing how she held her emotions in check. She looked so dignified and serene; yes, he thought, she is as regal as a queen, yet he knew how difficult this parting was for her. She was leaving all that was familiar to her to follow her husband, a man she thought incapable of feeling any emotion other than anger.

Geoffrey admitted that he liked the tender show of affection between Elslow and Elizabeth and found himself irritated that he was the observer and not the participant. Yet he did not know how to enter into the farewell, and so continued to stand and watch, a brooding expression on his face.

Thomas demanded the warrior’s attention. The child launched into Geoffrey’s leg, barely nudging the lord with his puny strength. Geoffrey effortlessly lifted the child high into the air and then slowly lowered him until the two were eye to eye. “You will behave and listen to your grandfather!” His voice sounded harsh to his ears, but the child seemed unafraid. He grinned and nodded his answer.

Geoffrey pretended to drop Thomas, and the boy let out a squeal of delight. The lord placed the child on the ground and seemed undisturbed when the little one wrapped himself around Geoffrey’s leg. Indeed, he was pleased that the boy was so open and honest with his affection, and patted him on his head as he watched Elslow stride over to him.

“I will watch Thomas well,” Elslow said.

“And I will watch your Elizabeth,” Geoffrey promised in a solemn voice.

“And we will both be led a merry chase,” Elslow said with a chuckle.

Geoffrey found himself smiling, and then turned to
glance at Elizabeth. He saw the distress she tried to hide. “I must hurry, before my wife changes her mind and refuses to leave,” he told Elslow. He started to walk toward his mount and then stopped and turned back to Elslow. “There is still danger as long as Belwain has his freedom. Walk with caution,” he said. It was the closest Geoffrey could come to admitting his concern and affection.

Elslow, however, harbored no such inhibitions. He whacked Geoffrey on his back and threw his arm around his shoulder. “Son, you’ll miss this old man,” he advised the serious-faced knight.

Geoffrey chuckled and replied, shaking his head, “Never have I been surrounded by so many who are so unafraid. It is a mystery,” he admitted.

“That is because we are family,” Elslow stated.

“Aye,” Geoffrey said, mounting his steed, “family.” He gave Elizabeth a long look and then turned toward the gates. Roger was saddled beside Geoffrey, and the two, flanked by Elizabeth’s wolfhounds, led the troops surrounding Elizabeth out of Montwright.

Geoffrey had left half his contingent of men with Elslow and felt no unease. He looked forward, eager for the ride.

Elizabeth preferred to look back, straining to memorize the walls of her home. The future frightened her, and she felt a devastating loneliness that tore at her heart.

Her physical discomfort soon took her mind off her loneliness. It seemed that every hour or so, both her bladder and her stomach demanded release. It was both awkward and embarrassing to have to stop so often. She should have found a female servant to bring along, she decided. Another woman would have eased her embarrassment, and perhaps share her worry.

By the time the sun had reached its zenith, Elizabeth was hot, miserable, and exhausted. She closed her eyes for a moment’s rest and almost fell out of her saddle,
but Geoffrey was suddenly there, beside her, and caught her just in time. He lifted her and settled her against him without breaking his stallion’s stride. Elizabeth sighed her acceptance and quickly went to sleep, her head nestled against her husband’s chest and her arms wrapped around his waist.

With one arm, Geoffrey held his wife close to him, savoring the feel of her softness against him. She smelled of wildflowers, Geoffrey thought, rubbing his chin against the top of her head as he inhaled her sweet scent, and apples too, from the meager lunch they had shared. He heard his wife sigh in her sleep, and silently echoed the sound.

Elizabeth slept the afternoon away. Geoffrey finally called a halt to the fast pace an hour before sundown. Elizabeth’s legs would not support her when she finally touched the ground, and she found she had to hold on to Geoffrey’s arm until the shaking subsided.

“You are ill?” Geoffrey made the question sound like an accusation, and Elizabeth straightened up at once.

“I am not!” she contradicted. “Just a little indisposed. It will pass.”

She tried to look away, but Geoffrey placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her toward him. It was the first show of affection in such a long time that Elizabeth felt herself becoming shy.

“It is your time of the month?” he asked in a gentle whisper.

Shyness evaporated with his intimate question. Elizabeth gasped and shook her head furiously. “We must not discuss such things,” she said, blushing. “It is unseemly.”

She tried to pull away but Geoffrey would not let go. “And if husband and wife do not discuss this . . . thing, then when am I to know when I cannot touch you?” he asked in a logical voice.

“Oh! I do not know,” Elizabeth whispered her answer, looking down at the ground. A sudden thought
turned her gaze back to her husband. “That is why you have not, that is the reason we have not. . .” she stammered, unable to put her thoughts into words. She waited with the hope that Geoffrey would finish her sentence but he remained silent and watchful. “That is the reason you have not touched me?” she finally asked.

Her voice was like the whisper of the wind, but Geoffrey heard. “Nay,” he replied. His voice was gentle and most confusing to Elizabeth.

“Then you are still angry with me?” Elizabeth asked. “That is the reason.” In her heart she prayed she was right, that it was Geoffrey’s anger over her conduct that kept him from her bed. She didn’t know how she would deal with any other reason. If he no longer found her desirable . . .

Geoffrey watched the play of emotions that swept across his wife’s face, and longed to take her fully into his arms and kiss away all her doubts, her worries. He could barely conceal his hunger for her. His promise to wait until Elizabeth was settled into his home before telling her of his love, before showing her his love, now seemed highly unreasonable. And, Geoffrey reminded himself with a grin, he was always most reasonable, wasn’t he?